America's Bravest (12 page)

He had to be kidding.

But every hand shot up.

“Want to come over here, pretty lady?”

“Oooo…”

“Miz Walsh. The fireman likes you.”

Even the kids caught the sexy tone of his
voice.

When she went up front, she whispered,
“Please, don’t undermine my authority, Brody.”

His beautiful eyes rounded. “Oh, sorry. I was
joking.”

“Teaching is serious business. So is
firefighting.”

“Well, you know me. It always was hard for me
to take things seriously.”

She arched a brow. “And I’ve got the scars to
prove it, in case you’ve forgotten.”

His face turned dull, like the light went out
of it. “Would you lie down on the mat, Ms. Walsh?”

Thankfully, Emma had worn khaki slacks, so
she dropped to the floor. Before she stretched out, he added, “I
think you’re going to have to remove that sweater. I need to use
the blood pressure cuffs.”

It was a demonstration, so he could indeed
check her blood pressure through the light sweater. Still she
removed it, and having a short-sleeved blouse on, most of her arm
was bared.

Taking his time, he hunkered down beside her.
And sniffed. “Sweet,” he said to her quietly, and to the students,
“We call this examination the ABCs: Check the person’s
A
irways.” He opened her mouth and shined a light in it.
“Her
B
reathing.” He touched her throat and laid an ear
near her chest. His thick hair tickled her jaw, and it smelled
lemony. He had on an aftershave that was…wonderful. Then took held
up the blood pressure cuff. “I’m showing you how to use this little
thing to see how her blood’s pumping, so gather close.”

He taught the kids. He didn’t just
demonstrate. And he really took her blood pressure. “Hmm, BP is
one-forty over eighty. A little high.” He gave her a knowing look
which she ignored.

He grinned up at the kids. “I think she’s
alive.”

They laughed.

She didn’t have much choice in the other
things he forced her to participate in: for a suspicious situation
or when there was blood, he dressed her in the universal
precautions of a face mask, gloves and goggles.

When he put her eye gear on, his breath
fanned her ear, causing her to shiver.

But by the time he was done with her, she
needed to fan herself.

The morning ended with a boxed lunch for the
kids. When they were all seated at long tables set up for them, she
pulled Brody aside. “What was that all about?”

Dimples claimed his cheeks. “Illustrating my
moves, babe.”

“Yeah, they were moves, all right. It was
embarrassing.”

“The kids loved it.” He gazed down at her
eyes. “Didn’t you?”

“No. I got over loving anything about you
when you broke my heart.” She started away. But he drew her
back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any harm.”

“It doesn’t matter. You cause harm even if
you don’t want to. You always did.”

“Look, I tried to talk to you at the reunion,
but you didn’t stand still long enough.”

“I had responsibilities.”

“You avoided me.”

“I did not.”

“Then prove it to me. I’m off and tomorrow’s
Saturday. Have lunch with me.”

“No! I’m not interested in renewing old
acquaintances.”

He asked seriously, “What if I am, Emmy? I’ve
been thinking a lot about my life after I lost a victim. I—”

“Well, this was fascinating.”

Brody looked up and Emma turned around. A
beautiful woman with skeins of dark hair and shrewd violet eyes had
approached them. She was dressed in a designer business suit.
“Parker?”

“Emma? What are you doing here?”

“I’m one of the teachers for the kids.
You?”

“I came to get some shots of this community
service activity, I think the chief called it.”

Brody’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Parker? As in
Allen?”

“Yes. You know who I am?”

“We got pictures up of you in the firehouses
with targets on them.”

She blinked.

“How do you know Lois Lane, here?” he asked
Emma, his voice deadly cold.

“We were sorority sisters,” Parker said, and
hugged Emma. “So nice to see you again.”

oOo

Okay, so he hadn’t planned to come on so
strong. He’d volunteered to help out today—requested the duty,
really—because he wanted to see Emma again. He’d thought about her
a ton
over the last couple of weeks so he’d acted on
impulse. Now, as she sat with her students for lunch, he remembered
the sweet scent of her when he’d bent over to do his patient
assessment. Her pupils had dilated, telling him his nearness
affected her. And that she was embarrassed.

“What was all that about?” Rachel Wellington
asked from his side. She bit off a section of a peanut butter and
jelly sandwich, like those they were feeding to the kids.

He dragged his gaze from Emma and focused on
his friend. “What do you mean?”

“Spare me. You were all over that pretty
little teacher. And in front of her students.”

He winced. “Was I inappropriate?”

“No, I’m busting your balls. But what’s going
on? I miss hearing about your love life.”

“Now that you have one of your own, you don’t
need to poke into mine.”

“Touché.”

Last summer, Rachel Wellington had
unexpectedly transferred from their tight-knit group on Rescue 7.
Rumor had abounded that something was going on between her and the
captain, and he’d also heard Malvaso was taking grief for it.
Finally, she and Gabe had talked to the four remaining members and
confessed they’d become involved after they’d been trapped together
and thought they might die. Because they’d decided to go public
rather than sneak around with their unexpected romance, the
department had reacted, some positive, some negative. Brody was
happy for them both.

“Sorry to tease you. For what it’s worth, I
don’t think you should be taking shit for falling in love.”

“It’s better now.” She shook her head,
sending her hair swirling around her shoulders. “I’m worried about
Gabe, though. Did you know they put a letter in his file? No
disciplinary action yet.”

“I don’t think anybody really cares about
what happened. Gabe’s well loved.” He grasped her neck. “You too,
Rach.”

She smiled. “Now, back to Ms. Walsh.”

Brody sighed as he looked at Emma. She was
talking softly to a boy who he’d noticed was energetic. Her head
bent, he could see the bare skin on her neck. She’d been sensitive
there, long ago, when he kissed her. “My first love.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“I wasn’t ready to settle down. Christ, we
were eighteen.”

Rachel tracked his gaze. “Huh! She looked at
you like a woman looks at a man she cares about.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. Life’s short Brody. We both know
that.” Her gaze was intense. “I heard about the guy you lost. It
must have been hell, after having kept him alive so long.”

“It was a tough one.” That had affected him
greatly.

She gestured toward the group—and Emma. “So,
if you have something with her, I say go for it.”

Rachel’s words stayed with him as the school
kids finished lunch, took their turns with the engine and noisily
headed to the bus while someone honked the horn. Walking out behind
them on his crutches, he managed to catch Emma by the arm as she
helped the kids board. She hadn’t put her sweater back on; her skin
felt like silk. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

She swallowed hard, and the pretty light
complexion of hers blushed again. Her eyes were wary and he hated
putting that look there, but he needed to say some things out loud.
“Please.”

Nodding, she stepped away from the bus.

He thought of Rachel’s comment. “I lost a
victim in a fire. I’d been giving him my air for a while. He died
after he got out.”

That warm sympathy in her eyes made him
remember how he’d depended on her to make tough situations better,
like the time in high school his dad had had a heart attack and she
hadn’t left his side for three days. And he’d had a strong urge to
talk to her after 9/11. “I’m sorry, Brody.”

“It made me think long and hard about my
life. About my future.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Would you
please
have lunch
with me?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to
restart anything with you. And besides, I’m involved with
Mark.”

He watched her. What could he say? Abandon
your boyfriend so we can see if we’re still good together?

“We had our chance Brody, and it didn’t work
out. Good luck with your life, but I don’t want to be part of
it.”

An incredible feeling of sadness came over
him. Stunned by his extreme reaction, Brody swallowed hard. “Oh,
okay. You have a nice life, too.”

Standing on the blacktop, he watched her
board the bus. She was slender, yet nicely built. Suddenly he could
remember what she felt like all those years ago in his arms. Then
he remembered how he’d hurt her. The
noble
thing to do
would be to let her go without protest. That would show he’d truly
changed after the fire last month.

Shit. He turned away from the sight and
hobbled back into the bay, shaken to the core by Emma Walsh.

“Are you Emma Walsh?”

A delivery man had come around the back of
her house. She’d just started the lawnmower, and the ear-splitting
roar had covered up his arrival. He wore a uniform and carried a
floral arrangement wrapped in green paper.

She smiled. Flowers from Mark. “Yes. Are
those for me?”

The guy nodded and set them on a teak
umbrella table. “Enjoy.”

“Wait a second. Let me get you a tip.”

“Already paid for with the bouquet.” He made
his way out.

That was so like Mark. He was considerate and
thoughtful and never failed to take an opportunity to spoil her. In
the mild September afternoon, Emma tore off the paper—but frowned.
Carnations. Pink ones. Lots of them.

Inhaling the scent that was like no other
flowers, her heart started to beat at a clip, with a visceral
response. She’d never told Mark those were her favorite flowers, or
used to be, until she and Brody broke up. Even as a teenager, he’d
showered her with them.

She opened the card. “I’m sorry I imposed on
you. I won’t do it again. Good-bye, Emma.”

For some godforsaken reason, her eyes welled.
Damn Brody O’Malley. He didn’t play fair.

oOo

“What bug’s up your ass?” Ryan spoke from the
other side of their parents’ twenty-five-foot boat.

He and Brody had gone out early this morning
to do some end-of-the-season fishing. The lake was choppy but well
suited to catch the little buggers. Brody loved the scent of
seaweed and the sound of the waves lapping over each other. Though
they wore light jackets, the sun was beating down on them.

“Nothing.” Brody rarely lied to Ryan, but now
seemed a good time to do it. He didn’t need a lecture.

“Like hell. You haven’t been on a date since
the reunion. Even after…oh, damn. Oh, shit. It’s Emma Walsh, isn’t
it?”

So much for lying. He should have known
better, given their twin intuition. “I guess.”

“Jesus, Brody, you need to get a grip. I
don’t want to go through
that
again.”

Frowning, Brody looked up from his pole.
“What are you talking about?”

“When we went to Europe after you broke up
with her, you were a lost puppy.”

He didn’t like the image. “I was not.”

Ryan’s gaze zeroed in on him. “You were in a
rotten mood the whole time we were in Paris. You wouldn’t sleep
with those two Norwegian models. And I caught you staring at Emma’s
picture all through Italy.”

Ah, now he remembered. “I punched you in the
face because you stole it and threw it in the Trevi Fountain.”

“Uh-huh. But no, you weren’t a lost puppy.”
Sometimes he hated Ryan’s sarcasm.

“I got better when we went to college.”

He and Ryan attended John Jay College of
Criminal Justice in New York City, both planning to be cops. Then
when they graduated and returned to Camden Cove, Brody gravitated
toward the fire department, passed the entrance test with flying
colors—of course—and got his paramedic certification.

“You were okay until we got home for break.
You acted like a baby every time you saw her around town.”

A pain pierced his heart. He recalled the
feeling of loss in the pit of his stomach when he caught a glimpse
of Emma across the street or at a movie.

“Okay, it’s Emma. I couldn’t get her out of
my mind after the reunion, then I lost that guy in the fire and
started thinking more and more about her. I, um, volunteered at the
firehouse last week after she told us that night her class was
visiting one in Camden Cove.”

“Shit, bro, why’d you do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m acting so out of
character, I don’t even recognize myself.”

Ryan stared hard at him. “Are you ready to
settle down?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Then get your act together. The worst thing
you could do is lure Emma back and then find that out you didn’t
want a June wedding and babies.”

Well, that was true. Rye understood him like
no other, and Brody always listened to him. “Yeah, it is. Thanks
for talking this out.” A tug on his pole. “About time,” Brody said,
starting to reel the fish in.

“See, things are lookin’ up already.”

oOo

“This is fun.” Emma meant the words as she
stared over at Mark. “Ready?”

“Yeah. I’m so glad you came with me
tonight.”

“You help me chaperone elementary school
events all the time. It’s the least I can do.” Mark’s high school
was sponsoring a Fun Night at a place called Play Station in Hidden
Cove. A huge warehouse, it was filled with games, this rock wall
and a variety of video and carnival-type attractions, providing a
wonderland of play for teens and adults alike.