Page 56 of Only Ever You
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen a beautiful woman before, but this one elicited a startling jolt. My thoughts swirled with curiosity, but all she was doing was checking to see if we needed any drinks.
TORI SHACKLEFORD
The pace that evening at work was busy on steroids. For the most part, the eddy of customers flowed around me like an orchestra. Until one moment. I was stunned into silence when I locked eyes with a man, one I’d never seen before. Shaggy, honey-brown hair, rich cognac eyes.
Of coursehe was a firefighter. There were a surplus of them here in Willow Brook.
I wanted to know his name, but I was working. When I hurried by him later, he caught my eye again and his lips quirked at the corners. My belly responded with a spinning flip followed by a shimmy.
A few days later
I sat down on a large boulder, letting out a happy sigh. It was just me, myself, and my ancient dog, Bella. She promptly began sniffing everything she could, every grain of sand, every rock,pieces of seaweed, the ocean water lapping at the sand, the air, all of it.
“Home,” I said aloud.
Willow Brook was home, along with Alaska and this little spot on the beach here. When I was a little girl, my mom used to take us here for walks, for frolicking, for clam digging, and more.
Looking for a distraction, I leaned down, scooping up a piece of lava rock. These were my favorite rocks. They were lightweight, as if they’d been dropped here from another galaxy. This one was a deep burgundy color on one side that transitioned into black on the other. I lightly tossed it back and forth in my hands before setting it down on the boulder, planning to take it home with me.
I sat on that boulder for a little while, savoring the salty air and the birds chattering above the shoreline before I called Bella back. She was mostly deaf, but if I managed to make eye contact when I said her name, she came right over. She was a medium-sized brown dog with a half-tail. The vet said something must’ve happened to her tail, but she didn’t know what.
Bella was my shadow, my soul dog. She went everywhere with me and was as loyal as a dog could be. Just as I got in the car, I heard a buzzing sound and glanced over to see some kind of wasp flying straight for me. I yelled and swatted at it, but it zoomed right back and stung me just above my collarbone.
“Asshole!” I pointlessly hollered.
A few minutes later, I was driving back toward Willow Brook, toward home. The last thing I recalled was Bella letting out a sharp, unexpected bark. I woke up to the sound of the tail-end of my own yelp.
“There she is,” a rumbling voice said.
I fought through layers of confusion and tried to drag in a deep breath, but my throat felt unbelievably tight. “Take it easy,” the voice said. “You’re in the middle of an anaphylactic reaction.The antihistamine shot should be taking effect. Give it a few minutes, and you’ll be able to breathe a little better.”
I dragged my eyes open and looked around wildly. I felt funny all over, and my throat was itchy and scratchy.
“Your dog is a good girl,” the man said when I finally managed to focus on his face.
Holy wow. Even though I was half out of it, I knew a handsome man when I saw one. This guy was all handsome. His concerned brown eyes held mine. “How are you doing?”
My mind distantly clocked that I’d seen him at work the other night. He seemed professional. He was kneeling in the open driver’s side door of my car with what appeared to be a bag with medical supplies on the ground.
“Did I pass out while I was driving?” I took another breath and discovered the tightness was loosening in my throat. I got more oxygen this time, and the fog in my brain started to clear.
Bella was beside me, her chin on my thigh. “I’m guessing you got stung by something.” He lightly tapped his fingertip right where that stupid wasp, or whatever, had stung me.
“Yeah, right before I got in my car. I’ve been stung before,” I said slowly, as my thoughts started to organize themselves a little more coherently.
“Most people don’t have a reaction until their second sting,” he said. “You slid off the road and your dog here started barking up a storm. I had my windows down nearby and heard her.”
“Oh,” I said brilliantly. “Are you an EMT?” I asked another moment later.
He was tucking things away in his bag. His gaze lifted to mine again. Although, apparently, I had almost just died from anaphylactic shock, my belly did a little swoop when his rich chocolate gaze snagged mine. His shaggy brown hair fell over his eyes. He had a straight nose, strong cheekbones that angleddown to molded lips, and a square jaw with a little dimple at the base of his chin.
His lips kicked up at one corner and, holy hell, another dimple peaked out. “I’m a hotshot firefighter, not officially an EMT, but we all have first responder training, kinda part of the job.”
My lips still felt a little funny, and I pressed them together quickly, relieved that the numbness and tingling were starting to wear off. “You can’t throw a rock in Willow Brook without hitting a hotshot,” I managed to tease.
He chuckled, and the sound spun through me, turning my belly in another dizzying flip. “True,” he said as he tipped his head to the side.
He leaned back, and I was abruptly disappointed to have him move away from me. “Are you leaving now?” Alarm shot through me with dizzying anxiety on its heels. I had just passed out in my car by myself with my dog.
