Page 2 of Her Older Fireman

“There’s a fire truck and an ambulance,” she says. “All the big guns are here to save you.”

I laugh hoarsely and promptly cough on the saliva that’s been building up in my mouth. Reflexively, I swallow.

And the chip goes down.

I suck in a deep breath and my face almost tingles as I finally get enough oxygen. Leaning forward, I grab my soda from the coffee table and take a couple of deep sips that go down smoothly.

“I cleared it,” I tell Colette. My voice is a little raspy, but my breath flows easily down my windpipe. “The chip’s gone.”

Colette looks visibly relieved as she sags back into the cushions.

“Thank God.” She gestures at the window. “Now we just have to figure out what to tell these people.”

Oh, shit. I peer outside and see the fire truck and ambulance grind to a stop in the gravel drive outside. A tall, dark-haired fireman in a dark blue t-shirt and black pants hop down from the cab of the truck, his thick shoulder muscles bunching as he shuts the door. He turns toward the house and as soon as I see his face, I gasp.

“What?” Colette pushes in next to me and looks outside. “What’s the problem?”

“That fireman.” I point at him—he’s facing away from us again as he pulls a few things out of the truck. I’m mortified and trying not to freak out, but my traitorous libido still perks up at the sight of his taut ass as it flexes in his black utility pants. “He lives next door.”

“That’s your hot neighbor?” Colette sounds faintly amused. “The guy you like to spy on while he does yard work?”

He turns again and I drop down out of sight as he mounts the steps of the porch and heads for the door.

“Yes,” I hiss. “Shirtless yard work. And now he’s here to save my life, but I’m not dying.”

A short, sharp knock sounds.

“Emergency services,” I hear him yell. “Please open the door.”

“Do you want to get it or should I?” Colette whispers.

He knocks again before I have a chance to say anything. “Emergency services,” he bellows.

I stand up, push my hair out of my face, and straighten my outfit—shorts and an old concert t-shirt, but at least there are no embarrassing holes and my legs are freshly shaven. I fling the door open and catch him just as he raises his fist to pound on the door again. My heart feels like it’s about to thump out of my chest as I smile weakly at him.

“Hi,” I say. “I’m, uh, fine now. Not choking anymore. Sorry for dragging you out here.”

He looks down at me and his brow furrows with concern as he studies me. He’s really tall, I notice—I hadn’t seen him up close, just watched and fantasized from afar. Up close, I can see that he’s even more handsome than I thought. Older than me, maybe in his late thirties. Slight laugh lines are visible around his mouth, and they just make him look even sexier. His blue eyes bore into me, and I fight the urge to squirm.

“I’d like for the EMTs to check you out, miss.” He jerks his chin toward the ambulance. “It was serious enough for you to call for help, so we’d like to make sure.”

I hesitate. “I don’t want to waste your time.”

He reaches forward and slides his fingers under my elbow to guide me out toward the ambulance. “It’s not a waste of time,” he says. “It’s why we’re here.”

Helpless amid the electric thrill of his big, warm hands as they slide around my arm and lightly rest on my back, I let him guide me out to the idling ambulance.

“I don’t think you aspirated anything,” the EMT says, head cocked as she listens to my lungs through a stethoscope. “So we’ll leave you here, but call your doctor or head to the ER if you start to have issues again. Got it?”

I nod, grateful that she didn’t seem annoyed or impatient with my non-emergency. “Thank you so much. I’m okay,” I tell her.

My hot neighbor has been lingering behind the ambulance the whole time, and moves in closer to me as I hop down from the back of the vehicle.

“Let me walk you back to your front door,” he says. “Miss, ah, what was your name?”

“Madelyn O’Malley,” I tell him as I climb the steps. “Maddie.”

He grins. “I like it. I’m Gabriel Anderson. Gabe.” He gestures toward the wooden fence on the other side of the trailer, at the end of the short gravel driveway. “I actually live right over there, in that house on the other side of the park fence.”

Tentatively, I smile back. “Oh, really? I didn’t know that,” I lie.

“Yeah.” He looks over at the firetruck. “I have to get going, but I’ll see you around. Don’t be a stranger.”

I watch the muscular globes of his ass flex as he strides back to the firetruck. My knees wobble from some combination of embarrassment, exhilaration, and arousal. I turn around and see Colette lounging on the sofa, staring at me with eyebrows raised as she casually sips her soda.

“Nacho?” she asks, leaning forward to nudge the plate of stone-cold nachos toward me. “Or are you hungry for something else now?”

“Oh, shut up,” I say.

She laughs, and I know that no matter how nice Gabe was about it, at least one person will never let me live this down.

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