A Firefighter in Her Stocking
Page 9
CHAPTER THREE
“KEELEY,” JUDE SAID, fighting a yawn as he sat up in the waiting-room chair.
Even as hyped up as he’d been from the fire search and rescue, he couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep. Then again, searching a burning building drained a man from the anxiety, the adrenaline, the extreme heat, the sweat. Sometimes after a rescue he’d feel so tired he thought he might sleep a week.
“Is she still alive?” He prayed so. He’d gotten to her as quickly as he could. He knew that. But sometimes as quick as a person could just wasn’t enough.
“Yes, she’s stable,” his neighbor told him from where she stood a few feet away. “It was touch and go for a short bit due to her pulmonary edema, but she responded to the medications and is holding her own.”
He let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Looking more than a little tired herself, Sarah sank into the chair opposite him and stared across the few feet separating them.
Which gave him the opportunity to study her face full on.
She really did have amazing eyes. And great cheekbones.
Her lips were full and perfectly bowed. Kissable.
Where had that thought come from?
“Actually, all the thanks go to you. I shudder to think what would have happened if you hadn’t found her.”
He knew what would have happened and that was why he did his job. He loved being a firefighter. Not that he could save every person, but he gave it his best. Always.
“Every firefighter’s nightmare. Not finding someone,” he admitted, raking his fingers through his matted hair. “The kind of stuff that messes with your head.”
Maybe he should have gone home, showered, then come back. He supposed that would have been better than passing out in a private waiting area. Yet he’d not been able to leave. Not until he’d known Keeley was okay.
Sarah’s plump lower lip disappeared between her teeth for a brief second, and then she asked, “Does it mess with your head, Jude?”
Her saying his name for the first time messed with his head.
Big time.
Which made no sense.
As hadn’t the fact he found her lips kissable.
She wasn’t the type of woman he messed around with. He preferred women who knew the score and were okay with that. Dr. Sarah Grayson didn’t seem the one-night-stand kind.
Yet he’d be lying if he didn’t admit there was something about her that appealed to him in a major way.
Must be the day he’d had and that despite the fact he’d chugged a couple of sports drinks, he still felt dry to the bone.
“Some days more than others,” he answered.
Today, for instance, everything was getting to him. The woman sitting across from him had intrigued him that morning.
She intrigued him now.
The in between had been a living hell and maybe she was an angel sent to redeem him.
Lord knew, he needed redeeming.
“Like today?” She read his mind.
He shrugged. “You trying to map out my psyche on the DSM-V, Doc?”