Kade's Rescue (Detroit Heat Book 1) (13 page)

I was up on my elbows, looking down at Layne. We were both panting and laughing with each other. I wanted to speak. I wanted to tell her just how amazing she was, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t like before when I was scared to say the words, but my brain was still reeling from my powerful orgasm. I’d have to wait to tell her just how I felt.

I fell into bed next to her, and Layne rolled onto her side and rested her head against my chest. I fell asleep in a hurry. All the work from the day before had caught up to me. The dopamine flowing through my body was keeping the muscle soreness away, but I knew when I woke up, it would be back with a vengeance.

I tried to be quiet as I put the coffee back on the stove. Kade was snoring softly in my bed, and I was sure he had been through a tough night on top of the powerful sex. Even an hour later, my knees were still weak. I put the kettle on and fell back into a chair. He had absolutely worn me out.

Our first few dates had been fantastic. We had a real connection and chemistry that couldn’t be ignored, but there were also some mental issues that couldn’t be ignored, either.

He had admitted his problems to me, and I really respected him for that. On the other hand, Kade could have told me everything before the incident at the restaurant. He could have explained that he was in therapy and he was having some issues related to work.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that it was probably very hard for him. He worked in a high-stress, testosterone-filled job. I was sure they had to hide emotions like that all the time from each other. I sighed. I knew I’d be going out on a limb, and it would be hard to explain to Shatrice, but I also felt this strong pull to Kade and I knew he felt it, too.

“Ah, so there’s coffee, after all.”

I put my hand to my heart. “Oh, God. I didn’t hear you.” I stood up and turned to Kade. He was only wearing his jeans, showing off his muscular upper body as well as his large scar. He didn’t look ashamed of it anymore. It made sense why we had kept the lights off in the bedroom. I could understand him feeling insecure about it, but the scar didn’t bother me at all.

I kept staring at his broad chest and his toned arms. He could have been on one of those hunky fireman calendars. Kade saw me staring and he smiled. “I haven’t even gone out of the house without the turtleneck since the accident.” He laughed a little. “My heart is pounding.”

Turning away, I said, “Sorry, I don’t mean to stare.”

“No, no.” Kade shook his head and stepped into the kitchen. “I don’t mind. I mean, it’s a little nerve-wracking, but it’s all right, Layne.”

He sat down in a chair across from me just as the kettle began to shriek. I refilled the French press and set it down on the table between us. “Milk, sugar?”

“Black.” Of course he liked his coffee black. He was a
real
man. He brushed his teeth with gravel, spat tar, and drank his coffee dark. I wanted to shake my head, but I was beaming too hard.

After a few minutes, I pressed the filter down and poured the coffee, Kade’s black, mine lightened with cream. We sat in silence for a while, still reeling from the amazing sex.

“Think you could get used to this?”

I looked up from my cup to Kade. “Get used to what?”

He looked around. “Getting woken up every third day first thing in the morning. Look, it’s a tough life. I’m gone for an entire day, and you saw what I do for a living. It’s dangerous work and it takes its toll. I know all that, but I want to make this work.”

“I can’t see us together, Kade.” I saw the pain on his face and quickly went on. “That’s not what I mean. I mean that I don’t really know what our future will look like. That’s… that’s hard for me.”

He watched and listened to me. When Kade smiled, I was confused for a second. His words, though. Oh, God, his words put me at ease in a strange, but comforting, way.

“It’s going to be difficult. I mean that with all honesty. My job is hard, my hours are crazy, and I work other jobs on my days off. All of that aside, we do the same thing. We help people. We understand what it means to serve others, and I think that is what will make us fantastic partners.”

I was smiling. I couldn’t help it. “You said on our first date that you didn’t do it to help others.”

Kade nodded. His blue eyes looked like a crystal-clear ocean. I could almost feel their coolness as he met my stare. “I said that most of us do it because we’re broken, right?” After I nodded, he added, “Why do you think broken people help others? That’s how we heal.”

I dropped my face into my hands. “You liar.” I was laughing when I looked back up at him. “Oh my God, you are such a liar.”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“Kade McCaffery, your pants are aflame. You wanted me to think you were such a big, tough man, but you really do want to help people. That’s what it’s about for you, isn’t it? Sure, you love spraying your hoses and all of that, but it’s about what you did yesterday. It’s about pulling people from danger. It’s for
them,
not for
you.
”

For a long moment, Kade stared at me. I got the feeling that I had told him something he hadn’t realized. Nice job.

I was nervous, thinking that I had overstepped my bounds, but Kade surprised me like he always did. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t tell anyone what a softie you are? How sweeeeet you are on the inside?” I teased him in a sing-song voice.

Kade silenced me with a kiss. It was passionate and powerful; changing my attitude in a heartbeat. He had strength; he had weakness. Most importantly, he knew about both, and I think it made him a better person because of it. My mind started running through powerful thoughts; powerful words. I knew it was too soon, but I couldn’t help it.

“So, what do you think?”

I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

He grabbed my hand, squeezing it with an intimate touch, “You and me. You think we can do this?”

Of course we could. I knew it in my heart. Kade had his faults, but so did I. We’d laid our cards out on the table, and neither of us had run screaming for the hills. It sounded like a good start to me.

Instead of more talk at the kitchen table. I nodded and stood up. Pulling my shirt up and over my head, I tossed it onto the table in front of him. I figured that Kade would take the hint and follow me where I wanted to go.

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Coming December 15th

Detroit Heat, Book Two

Rico’s Recovery

After a fall that nearly kills him, Rico has a long recovery if he ever wants to fight fire again.
 
The weeks and months lay a thick blanket of dark depression over him, and he all but gives up on his dreams of returning to his career as a firefighter.

Lizzie won’t take no for an answer.
 
She is a tough physical therapist who can see that Rico will more than just walk, again.
 
After the long rehabilitation process, she is confident he’ll return to work without any lasting effects.

The two have a hard road.
 
Their feelings grow as they train together week in and week out.
 
Soon, their professional relationship is getting in the way of their personal one.
 
Both Lizzie and Rico face some of the hardest decisions of their lives.
 
Career or love?
 
Present or future?

Chapter One:

The world was spinning. I didn’t
feel
the pain, but I knew it was there. It filled my senses. I could see, feel, hear, taste, and smell nothing but pain. There were other things going on in the background, but I was oblivious to them all.

Light snapped me out of it. It was the light on the ceiling of the ambulance. It wasn’t quite right; it almost looked like a painting. I could only see out of one eye. The other was swollen shut or injured, I didn’t know which. I tried to turn my head, but it was held fast.
To a backboard
, I thought.

“How bad?” I asked, my jaw barely opening against the C-collar. Now I could hear people talking, sirens wailing, and water shooting from hoses, probably extinguishing the apartment fire. “How bad?” I asked again.

An EMT I didn’t recognize leaned over my body. I felt a needle slip into my arm. Touch; another sense snapping back into place. He didn’t look down at me or even acknowledge what I had asked. No one was responding or talking to me. It was freaking me out.

Taste returned next. The sharp, copper taste of blood filled my mouth, and with each swallow, more took its place. I realized that with a mouthful of blood and maybe broken teeth, I was probably hard to understand.

As the ambulance pulled away, I smelled the sterile, dry air around me. The EMT was sitting beside me watching the 12-lead. I didn’t even remember getting hooked up to it, but there were still flashes that I couldn’t fit into place.

The EMT grabbed his radio and called in to the hospital. “301 to Henry Ford ED. Twenty-three-year-old patient, multiple fractures, possible internal bleeding. Patient fell approximately twenty-five feet. 301 transporting emergent, ETA six minutes.

A crackle came over the radio. “Acknowledged, 301. We’ll prep the OR for arrival.”

It started coming back to me one small piece at a time. I had fallen. We were going to enter a third floor apartment, but the landing gave way, and I fell.

The EMT leaned over so I could see his face clearly, or somewhat clearly through one eye. “You’re one tough son-of-a-bitch. You hang tight. We’re gonna get you all fixed up.”

“How bad?”

He shook his head. “Hey, hey. Take it easy. Just try to stay calm. We’ll be at the hospital soon and they’re going to get you good as new.” I saw him look down my body, and he couldn’t disguise the look on his face. Something wasn't right. Something below the belt just wasn’t right.

I tried to move my legs, and I was rewarded with a searing pain that made me gasp. I would have screamed, but the EMT had placed gauze in my mouth.

“Marty, he’s going downhill, step on it.” The EMT laid a hand on my chest. “I’m going to push some morphine, Rico. It’s going to take the edge off until we get to Ford.”

He was right. It made me forget that my career as a firefighter was probably over.

I woke up fully aware that I was in a hospital. It was a devastating feeling. After all, I was invincible. I was a Detroit firefighter. We were the best of the best, the toughest of the tough.

At twenty-three years old, I’d believed I was invincible. I never would have become a firefighter if I thought anything else. You
have
to be invincible to be on the DFD. It’s tougher than any other department, and tougher than any other job out there. Some might jump up your ass if you say that. “What about FDNY?”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. They’re tough, but we have more fires, more saves, and more dangerous work than they do. They are heroes. Ain’t nobody sayin’ otherwise. We’re just
bigger
heroes.

Well, fuck that shit. I’m not a hero, and I’ll never get my chance. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out after looking down to see one leg splinted, and the other casted from hips to toes.

I didn’t dare move either one. The fragmented memories of my fall all drifted into my head, and the last thing I wanted to do was feel that pain again.

I looked down to see my left hand was bandaged, too. Instinct got the better of me and I tried to wiggle my fingers. White-hot pain sizzled up my arm. I sucked in a breath and tried not to move again.

How many pins in that hand?
I wondered.