Smoke (2 page)

Balancing the child in his arms, Jonathan felt for heat on the first door before opening it; it was a half-bathroom with no windows to escape. Closing the door he felt on the second door. The door led to an enclosed porch. He used his helmet to break the glass to ventilate the area after heavy smoke began to filter in rapidly.

Checking his air tank, it was low and only a few more minutes remained before it was completely empty. Sitting the child in front of the broken window he reached for the radio attached to his shoulder. “Chief, I’m at the rear of the house on a second floor porch. I need a ladder ASAP!”

The chief replied, “Help is at your location, Jon—hang on.”

Firefighter Anthony Jenkins hurried up the ladder breaking the remaining glass and tearing an opening in the wall to widen the narrow window frame. Suddenly, Jonathan felt a spray of water hit him from behind. He kneeled using his body to shield the child from the high water pressure shooting from the hose.

Anthony leaned through the window, “Hand me the kid.”

Picking the child from the floor, he handed her to Anthony who rushed her down the ladder to Firefighter Nick Barona who waited below. Retrieving his SCBA, it was empty. Jonathan’s throat and chest were burning fiercely as he tried to squeeze his body through the window opening to go down the ladder. Hearing a cracking noise, he looked up to see the ceiling of the porch ignite with flames. Before Jonathan could clear the window, the porch caved in taking him down.

Anthony sustained minor injuries when he fell into the thick bushes lining the backyard of the house. He was on his way up the ladder when the porch broke away from the house. Jonathan took the brunt of the fall by crashing two-stories to the ground with burning debris burying him. Suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness, he felt his body being dragged from underneath the flaming material and voices yelling for him to hold on.

A day later, Jonathan awoke in the Intensive Care Unit of MetroHealth Medical Center. His vision blurred as he scanned the room. IV lines dripped fluids from several bags into the thick veins of his right arm. Shooting pain radiated from every part of his body when he tried to move. His best friends and fellow firefighters Nick and Anthony were at his bedside, but he could not talk because of the tube inserted down his throat.

They were both quick to inform him doctors were optimistic about his recovery and the tube down his throat was only temporary. The incident marked the first he’d been hurt in the line of duty in his ten-years as a firefighter.

Shaking his head to clear the images of that night, he ran a bandaged hand through his wavy chestnut hair desperately wanting to take in a deep breath. He didn’t because of the painful coughing that would follow. It had only been a few days since the tube had been removed and he was allowed to get out of bed for short periods of time. He pretty much followed doctor’s orders and limited his time on his feet, since he didn’t want to do anything that would extend his hospital stay.

Jonathan scratched the stubby beard that filled his normally clean-shaven face.

Unknown hazel brown eyes stared back at him from the mirror. The white of his eyes remained red from the irritants of the smoke, giving him an eerie appearance.

“Mr. DeMinico? Are you here?”

Surprised, Jonathan turned his head to make sure it was his name being called softly from the other side of the door. Millie’s voice was gruff and far from friendly.

He answered, “I’ll be out in a second.” Recapping the toothpaste and pulling a comb from the pocket of his robe, stands of singed hair fell into the basin of the white sink.

The nurse was not able to wash all the char from his hair with a washcloth. He checked his reflection one last time before leaving the bathroom. He felt like shit and looked exactly how he felt.

“Okay, I’m with Respiratory therapy and here to administer your breathing treatment.”

He came from the bathroom closing the door behind him. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m not moving too fast and working with two bandaged hands is becoming a bit of a challenge,” he said holding up his hands.

The woman had her back to him assembling tubing to the oxygen flow valve on the wall. “Take your time and get comfortable. I have to finish setting up my equipment and get your information before we do anything.”

He sat on the edge of the bed just as the nurse returned with his medication.

“Here you go, Mr. DeMinico. After your treatment, I’ll be back to get your vitals and give you a sponge bath, if you want.”

“Nurse Naomi, just point me in the direction of the shower; I don’t need to be sponge bathed anymore.”

She pointed a long thin finger at him. “If I was a pretty young nurse you wouldn’t be fretting about getting that sponge bath; but I’m not offended you don’t want me to bathe you anymore. Oh, for a bit of good news, I heard you might be leaving soon.”

His spirits lifted slightly. “Really—when?”

“Maybe in a day or two,” she said shrugging her frail shoulders under the thick white sweater. “The doctor will talk you to about it.”

“A day or two; I’m ready to go now,” he protested.

She patted Jonathan on the shoulder directing her attention to the therapist busy doing her own thing. “Gabrielle, good luck with this antsy man; he’s a handful. If you need anything just hit the call button.”

His eyes traveled in the direction of the woman now stooping down behind a cart. The long white lab coat and the way she was positioned hid her from his view.

“Naomi, I don’t give you a hard time,” he said angling his head for a better view.

Gabrielle’s voice was soft when she spoke to the nurse. “I’m sure we’ll be okay, Naomi.”

A slight grin crossed his face elated he had gotten the more gentle replacement therapist instead of the hard-nosed drill sergeant. Gabrielle stood up capturing the look on his face and quickly switched on her bedside charm. “Good afternoon, Mr.

DeMinico. I’m Gabrielle King and will be administering your treatment instead of Millie today.”

She was now in full view and he was very pleased with what he saw. The

woman was gorgeous. Gabrielle was tall with smooth brown skin. Her silky black hair was pulled into a short curly ponytail. Beautiful big dark brown eyes matched her sensual full lips and slender nose. Her cheeks gave deep dimples when she smiled to reveal perfectly aligned white teeth.

“Mr. DeMinico? Is there anything wrong?” She asked when he didn’t respond to her.

“Uh, no. I heard you introduced yourself,” he said suppressing a nasty cough.

Coughing up phlegm covered with soot from his lungs was not the impression he was trying to open with.

She pulled a chair next to his bed. “Suppressing your cough is not good. You should clear as much mucus as you can.”

“I do when I’m alone but never in front of lady.”

“You shouldn’t think of me that way, since I’m getting ready to make you cough up a lot of that nasty stuff.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Will you be gentler than Millie? She tends to jam that thing in my mouth and horsewhip me if I don’t follow her orders.”

The wheezing mixed in with his baritone voice made him sound sinister. “I will try my best not to hurt you. We can get started once I check your identification and make sure I have the right patient.”

The touch of her cool fingers seared his skin when she rolled back the sleeve of his robe. With the oxygen running through his nose he couldn’t get a scent of how she smelled but imagined she smelled pretty. Perfectly short manicured nails polished in a deep dark maroon, gently held his wrist to match the information written in her chart to that on his wristband.

Jonathan smiled inwardly, noting that other parts of his body were functioning as should be, and had not been affected by his injuries. He was getting an erection from the woman just touching his wrist. The only arousal Millie gave him was nausea. With his free bandaged hand, he inched the blanket over his lap and tried to stop imagining what Gabrielle King smelled like.

She released his wrist. “You match my information so we can get to work. Mr.

DeMinico—“

He interrupted her. “Jonathan, my name is Jonathan but my close friends call me Jon.”

“Okay, Jonathan. If at any time you feel discomfort or dizzy, let me know and we’ll stop for a break.”

He put his hand to his forehead in dramatic fashion. “I’m feeling a little discomfort now.”

Gabrielle held a straight face. “Excuse me? We haven’t even begun yet.”

“Hmm, that’s funny since my heart is pounding and my palms are sweating

under these bandages. Those are the side effects I usually get with my treatment.”

Gabrielle’s dark eyes locked with his. He was not the first male patient to hit on her, but the majority of them were discreet with their flirting, he was being downright open. “Mr. DeMinico—“

“Jonathan and I won’t answer or obey any of your commands unless you call me Jonathan.”

She crossed her arms forcing the lab coat to close off his view of her body.

“Millie failed to warm me about you.”

He smiled raising a brow. “Millie has never seen this side of me. But, I have been told about you?”

She curled her lips, intrigued. “What is being said about my work if I may ask?”

“Definitely nothing bad is being said about your work. Pam mentioned your quietness and how nice you are once your shell is pulled away. But, what she didn’t say is how gorgeous you are.”

“Thanks for the compliment, Jonathan, but don’t believe everything Pam says about me.”

He penetrated her stare. “So you are not quiet or nice?”

Gabrielle took in his features for the first time. For a Caucasian, he was ruggedly handsome with a full head of wavy chestnut hair. His face featured a strong squared jawline, a sleek nose that came to a small point and sexy full lips. The slight discoloration of the whites of his eyes did not stop the golden-flecks surrounding the deep hazel color.

She let her eyes travel down his body. The hospital robe fit tightly around his arms and broad upper body showing how extremely muscular he was. His height was obviously tall, because his feet were touching the floor and the hospital bed remained elevated after Naomi remade it. The thickness of his thighs bulged beneath the thin fabric of the hospital pajama pants.

Gabrielle licked her lips lightly after realizing she was ogling. “Pam is not wrong about me being quiet in the workplace; what she’s wrong about is the shell. There is no shell to crack in order to get to know me.”

Jonathan’s breaths were short and not due to his illness but from the sound of her sultry voice echoing in his ears. “Are you going to give me hints on what I need to do to get to know you? I’m a firefighter not a mind-reader.”

“I like how you threw that in the conversation, but I know you are a fireman.

And, no, I’m not going to give you any hints. Any man confident in his game wouldn’t need a woman to give hints.” She returned her attention to warming the end of her stethoscope between the palms of her hands. “We should begin your treatment; I have other patients to see this afternoon.”

Jonathan didn’t return the banter but sat forward on the bed to begin the normal routine check-up before receiving the treatment. He couldn’t help but think the persona displayed by Gabrielle was definitely not of a shy person but of woman he wanted to get to know.

Gabrielle helped him remove his robe and let it fall to his waist on the bed. He was wearing a sleeveless tank shirt instead of a hospital gown over the top of his pajama pants. The large tattoo of the
Firefighting Cross
covered the majority of his right shoulder and bicep.

“Do you want me to take off my shirt?” He asked; removing it before she could answer.

Letting her eyes linger over his broad back, it showed how he survived the hard fall. His body was cut to perfection. Pronounced muscles stacked against one another when he flexed his back suppressing another cough. “Stop doing that; I need to hear that cough. Nice tattoo by the way,” she said placing the stethoscope to his skin.

“I wear it proudly,” he rasped. Do you have any visible tattoos I can check out?”

“Maybe,” she replied not expanding but carrying on with the task at hand.

“Take a breath and release slowly.”

He did as told but continued to nag her about the tattoo. “You saw mine, now show me yours; it’s only fair.”

She moved the instrument lower down his back mistakenly hitting a bruise. He winced. “Ouch! I was kidding—you don’t have to get rough.”

“I’m sorry, that was an accident.” She moved the stethoscope carefully over his back after spotting other bruises. “You have quite a few bruises on your lower back.”

“When I fell, I landed on my back. My turnout doesn’t protect me against falls.”

She pursed her lips. “You are lucky no other bones were broken.”

“Lucky? I have four broken ribs.”

“I see why you’re suppressing your cough—that has to hurt. Anyhow, my tattoo is only visible during bikini season.” She moved in front of him. “I have to listen to your chest.”

He leaned back on the pillows giving her better access. “How is this or do you need me to lay flat?”

Gabrielle tried not to stare at his magnificent upper body. Placing her hand on his chest, his skin was warm but his muscles were rock hard. The way he was laying revealed the deep definition of his six-pack abs and firm flat stomach. After listening to his chest and needing a little space, she tucked the stethoscope around her neck and stepped away to take items from the cart sitting nearby. “Open your mouth for me please,” she said holding the mouthpiece inches from his face.

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed flirtatiously. “Do you know how many directions I could take that? But I know you’re only referring to me blowing in that demon machine.”

Gabrielle couldn’t reframe from laughing. “Why are you giving me a hard time?”

His eyes twinkled when he said, “To get that sexy laugh from you—I guess my game is good enough after all.” He clamped his lips around the mouthpiece and waited for her to get the test going.