Chapter Twenty-four

Jac watched the red-bordered landing zone on the rooftop of Gardiner Regional Medical Center grow larger and larger as the helitack landed on the white cross in the center. A cluster of white-coated medical personnel rushed forward the instant the helo’s runners touched down. The flight tech slid open the door, and trauma team members surged forward to transfer the stretchers onto waiting gurneys. The tech jumped out, calling out status updates as everyone raced toward the building, the injured quickly hidden in the center of the scrum. Within a minute everyone had disappeared, leaving Jac and Mallory still in the belly of the shuddering bird.

“I guess we’re done,” Jac said, the adrenaline waning and fatigue grabbing her by the throat.

“If it’s okay with you,” Mallory said, “I’d like to go downstairs and see if I can get an update on the kids.”

“Yeah. That would be good.” Jac released her shoulder harness and winced as her stiff shoulder objected to the sudden freedom.

“Maybe we ought to have someone check that shoulder too,” Mallory said.

“No, it’s okay.”

“Actually, that wasn’t a suggestion.” Mallory climbed down and extended her hand back to Jac. “Come on, let’s get you looked at.”

Jac considered refusing, but if she didn’t get medical clearance she knew damn well Mallory would never let her back in the jump plane. Somehow, she feared Mallory might be looking for an excuse to keep her at arm’s length, maybe even farther than that. She wasn’t going to give her any ammunition. Grasping Mallory’s hand, she let herself be guided out to the rooftop. “Okay. But you know how long an ER visit can take, and we need—”

“I don’t care how long. Sully has things covered back at base. All that will keep.”

“Okay,” Jac said again, surprised at how easily Mallory dismissed missing another day of boot camp. A little frisson of pleasure shot through her belly. Maybe she mattered more than Mallory was willing to let on. And maybe she was setting herself up for a fall—one a lot worse than back there on that ledge.

They followed the path of the trauma team and took the elevator to the ground floor. Like in most regional trauma centers, the doors opened across from the emergency room. To the right was the waiting area, where a harried clerk and several admitting nurses shuffled papers, typed on computers, and copied insurance cards.

Mallory stopped in front of a set of gunmetal gray double doors with Emergency Room stenciled in peeling black letters. “I’ll see if I can get an update on the kids while you sign in.”

“Take your time,” Jac said, surveying the stack of charts in the rack next to the window. She crowded closer to the wall as a transport orderly pushed an elderly man in a thin white cotton smock in a wheelchair, trailing an IV pole and oxygen canister on wheels. “You hungry? I’ll see if I can rustle us up something while we’re waiting.”

“Starved.” Mallory hesitated. “Maybe you better not eat anything.”

“Mallory, I don’t need surgery. I probably don’t need anything except some anti-inflammatories. But if I don’t eat something, I’m in danger of committing criminal acts.”

“Really.” Mallory smiled a teasing smile. “Are you one of those people who loses all semblance of civility when you need to be fed?”

Jac had a hard time looking away from Mallory’s mouth as she spoke. The windburn had faded, leaving her full lower lip looking bruised and just kissed. Kisses she wished she’d put there. She was hungry for a lot more than food and didn’t know how long she could hide it. “Yeah. I get pretty dangerous.”

Laughing, Mallory tugged on the zipper of Jac’s flight jacket. “Well then, go find some food. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Jac grabbed Mallory’s hand and pretended to bite her finger. “Careful. I did warn you.”

Mallory’s lips parted and her eyes darkened, the shadows of fatigue replaced by glowing embers. “So noted.”

When Mallory made no move to pull away, Jac battled the urge to lean forward and take her mouth. She was on the verge of combusting, her fuse lit, burning fast and hot. She shuddered and released Mallory’s hand. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Don’t get lost out there, Russo.” Mallory didn’t want to let Jac out of her sight, and that crazy reaction propelled her through the automatic doors and down the hallway to the brightly lit nurses’ station like her butt was ablaze. The ravenous look in Jac’s eyes shimmered through her despite the distance she put between them. What was she doing, flirting with her like that? But she knew, oh, she knew. She liked putting that hungry look in Jac’s eyes, liked the way Jac’s breath hitched when she teased her, liked the pressure that surged between her thighs when Jac took her hand. Maybe—maybe there was some safe halfway point. She’d never had any trouble separating her feelings from her physical pleasures before. She certainly cared about Emily, enjoyed her company in and out of bed. Why not with Jac? Not until after boot camp, when there couldn’t be any doubt the boundaries were nice and clean, but maybe then. Maybe then she could ease this terrible ache she had for her. Maybe.


*


The doors swung closed and Jac was alone. She looked at her fingers, half expecting to see sparks shooting from her fingertips. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and under the collar of her shirt, but she shivered as if icy fingers trailed across her bare skin. She throbbed. Damn it. This was bad.

She knew how to get her body into the zone where her emotions had no impact. Breathing slowly through her nose, she filled her lungs, expanded her diaphragm, centered herself the way she did when she prepared to dismantle a bomb. Dismantling the power Mallory held over her would be a hell of a lot more difficult. Maybe impossible, especially when she welcomed it. But at least she could hide it for a while.

When her legs felt steady again, she skirted around the rows of bolted-together gray plastic chairs to the sign-in window and scribbled her name on the clipboard. A middle-aged woman in a painfully bright green velour top on the other side of the sliding plastic partition leaned forward and scanned the length of Jac’s body.

“You an EMT?” the clerk asked.

“Firefighter.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Banged up my shoulder.”

“Huh.” The clerk swiveled around, muttered something to a nurse who nodded, then swung back around. “Ought to be just a few minutes.”

“Thanks. Is there a cafeteria?”

“Down the hall.”

The clerk went back to her paperwork, and Jac followed the scent of microwaved burritos and burnt coffee beans. The cafeteria was little more than a vending room, but there were several trays piled high with doughnuts and bagels, a row of industrial-sized coffee dispensers, a few baskets of small plastic containers filled with peanut butter and cream cheese, and muffins. After two days of trail mix, protein bars, and dehydrated meals out of foil containers, this spread looked like a banquet. She glanced at the muffins and smiled to herself. She might never be able to eat another muffin unless she was feeding it to Mallory. Mallory. God. She couldn’t stop thinking about her, and the only thing she was accomplishing was to drive herself nuts.

She poured two tall Styrofoam cups of coffee to go, grabbed a cardboard tray along with four bagels and spreads, and paid the cashier. Back in the waiting area, she settled into one of the chairs opposite the silent TV showing a news station and set the supplies next to her. At not quite eight on a Sunday morning, the waiting area was surprisingly crowded. An exhausted-looking young mother with two toddlers and a baby in her arms occupied one corner. A worried-looking older man in a dapper suit sat militarily erect at the end of the last row, his hands on his thighs, his eyes riveted to the closed double doors of the treatment area. Someone very important to him was back there. A young couple in biker jackets and tattered jeans snoozed across from Jac, the girl’s hand resting proprietarily on the bearded guy’s thigh. The casual intimacy struck Jac in a way she’d never experienced before. She thought of Mallory’s hand in hers throughout the night, and her stomach knotted, replacing the hunger pangs with a different kind of need.

The doors opposite her opened, and Mallory came through, scanned the room, and fixed on Jac as if Jac were the only person in the waiting area. Jac’s skin flashed hot. Suddenly the dingy, somewhat desolate room was brighter, the medicinal odor and faint undercurrent of illness faded, and her pulse jumped as if someone had just yelled incoming.

“Hey,” Jac said.

“Oh my God, you’ve got food,” Mallory muttered, dropping into the seat next to her. “You are a prince.”

Jac laughed, trying for casual when she was close to imploding. “Prince? What happened to king? I’d even settle for queen.” She handed Mallory one of the cups of coffee. “A touch of cream. No sugar.”

Mallory reached for a bagel. “What, no muffins?”

Jac choked in mid-swallow, hot coffee searing its way down the center of her chest like molten lava. Mallory made a sympathetic sound and rubbed her back, which didn’t help at all. The press of Mallory’s palm burned through her, and her breasts tightened. When she caught her breath, she said, “I thought I’d save that for a special occasion.”

“If this isn’t one, I don’t know what is.” Mallory massaged Jac’s back in slow circles. “But I don’t mind waiting.”

Jac had never in her life wished so much for time to stand still. She wanted Mallory never to move her hand, never to look at her with anything other than the tenderness in her gaze right now, wanted never to hear Mallory’s voice without the teasing undercurrent of desire. She had no idea how to keep the spell from breaking, and the helplessness made her hands tremble as she spread cream cheese on a bagel with a plastic knife and held it out to Mallory. “Here. Try this for now.”

Mallory grinned, leaned forward, and took a huge bite. She chewed, swallowed, licked her lips. Her fingers trailed down the center of Jac’s back and moved away. “Mmm. Heaven. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jac’s insides churned and her head swirled. She was hungry, but she wasn’t sure she could handle even a bagel. “Any word on the kids?”

“They took the boy right to CAT scan. The girl is a lot more alert now.” Mallory sipped her coffee, her knee resting against Jac’s. “I think they’ve both got a really good chance.”

“That’s great,” Jac muttered. “A good day’s work, huh?”

“Mmm. Very good,” Mallory said, watching Jac over the rim of her coffee cup with heavy-lidded intensity. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Jac’s blood surged, and every disparate piece of her life—her work, her needs, her desires—coalesced in the heat of Mallory’s gaze. Fuck, she was in deep trouble. “Uh, I think I’ll save it for the drive back.”

“Not a bad idea. That late spring storm is moving south. We might run into it,” Mallory said, “so it could take us longer than I expected. I rented us a Jeep. They’re going to deliver it here. Sarah and Ray will have taken ours back to base—hopefully before the storm hit.”

“The ER should call me back soon. Sorry about the wait.”

“It’s no problem,” Mallory said. “I’ll just work you twice as hard when we get back.”

“I knew there was a catch.”

Mallory laughed, and her laughter warmed Jac all the way through. She was in no hurry to get back, and Mallory didn’t seem to be either. That was strange. She had expected Mallory to be anxious to return to base where she could resurrect the rules and regulations and the distance that came with them. But if Mallory wanted to spend more time with her, she wasn’t going to question why.

“And the best news”—Mallory gathered the tray and dumped it in the nearby trash can—“is the ER docs said we could use their locker room to shower. They know we’ve been out a couple of days. As soon as we get your shoulder seen to, we can get cleaned up.”

Jac groaned. “Oh man, I could use a shower.”

“Same here.” Mallory skimmed her hand over Jac’s thigh and squeezed lightly. “It’s looking to be a mighty fine morning, all things considered.”

“Yeah,” Jac murmured, her whole leg tingling from the fleeting touch. “Fine for sure.”


*


“I’m her partner,” Mallory said when the ER tech told her to wait outside the treatment area. “I’m coming.”

The young Hispanic man raised an eyebrow at Jac. “Up to you.”

“It’s fine,” Jac said.

He led them to a treatment cubicle, pulled the striped cotton curtain back a few feet, and gestured to the narrow, sheet-covered stretcher in the middle of the small space. “Everything off to the waist. There’s a gown on the end of the bed. Take a seat and someone will be in in a minute.” He dropped the clipboard with Jac’s intake information on it into a plastic bin on the wall and walked away.

When Jac looked around the room as if uncertain what to do next, Mallory said, “You need some help getting out of your jacket and shirt?”

Jac blushed, suddenly looking a decade younger, and Mallory’s heart swelled. She stepped behind Jac and gently grasped the shoulders of Jac’s flight jacket. “Here. I’ve got this. Just ease your arm out of the sleeve.”

“It doesn’t hurt unless I try raising it,” Jac muttered.

“Sounds like your rotator cuff,” Mallory said. “Shouldn’t have let you carry the damn stretcher out there.”

“It felt fine then,” Jac said, a stubborn note in her voice.

“Uh-huh.” Mallory understood the macho routine. She would have been the same way. Injuries were part of the job. Unless you couldn’t move, you didn’t let them get in the way of doing what needed to be done. All the same, the idea of Jac being in pain made her stomach clench. She draped the jacket over a metal folding chair, the only furniture in the room besides the stretcher, and plucked up the standard hospital-issue gown. She opened it and held it out to Jac. “Here you go.”

Jac unbuttoned her shirt, shrugged her good arm out of the sleeve, and pulled the other side down her arm without raising her shoulder. She tossed the shirt on the chair, repeated the maneuver with the T-shirt she’d worn underneath, and turned with one hand out for the gown. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Mallory said hoarsely, unable to prevent her eyes from sweeping down Jac’s torso. Jac’s nipples tightened and her stomach hollowed, as if Mallory’s gaze had been a caress. Mallory would have sworn the image of Jac naked had been burned indelibly in her mind after her first glimpse in the locker room, but she’d failed somehow to register just how incredibly beautiful she was. Tired, rumpled, hurt, Jac was still magnificent.

Jac’s breathing picked up, her breasts rose and fell more quickly, and Mallory had to clutch the thin cotton fabric to keep from touching her. “Put this on, it’s freezing in here.”

“Right.” Jac slid her arms through the sleeves.

“Turn around, I’ll tie you up.”

Jac turned, her naked back to Mallory. Tendrils of Jac’s hair lay in dark swirls against her neck, and when Mallory brushed them aside to secure the cotton ties on the back of the gown, Jac shuddered. Mallory rested her fingertips gently on the bare crests of Jac’s shoulders and closed her eyes. An inch of air so thick and hot they might’ve been standing over an open fire was all that separated them. If she applied the slightest bit of pressure, Jac would be in her arms.

“Mallory,” Jac whispered, leaning back until she settled into the curve of Mallory’s body.

Mallory rested her forehead against Jac’s hair. “Jac, I—”

“Hello, hello,” a robust male voice announced as the curtain swung back. A very large, very jovial, shaggy-haired redhead in scrubs and a wrinkled white coat stepped into the room. “I’m Dr. Hurley. I hear someone’s got a bum shoulder.”

“That would be me.” Jac pivoted to face the doctor. Her eyes were a little hazy, and she sounded slightly dazed. “But I think it’s just a little ding.”

“Well, let’s have a look,” he said.

Mallory stepped back, her hands falling to her sides. Her heart thudded in her chest, and her legs quivered so badly she had to rest her butt against the stretcher to get her balance. When her head stopped spinning, she edged farther around the bottom of the stretcher so Jac could climb up onto it. “I’ll wait outside.”

Jac shot her a surprised look but Mallory slipped out and leaned against the wall. She had just come dangerously close to crossing a line she’d already moved more than she should have. She didn’t trust herself to recognize her own boundaries anymore, and that was ten times more terrifying than any wildfire she’d ever faced.


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