Flashpoint

“Not that pill. Your nice pill.”

Dustin snorted and Cristina glared at him, zapping the smile off his face.

Zach cleared some space for Brooke to get in closer, and she sent him a smile that zapped him as sure as Cristina had zapped Dustin, but in another area entirely.

He wished she was rubbing an ice cube on her chest. He maneuvered himself right next to her. Their arms bumped, their legs brushed and every nerve ending went on high alert.

The bell rang, and with a collective groan, they all scattered. It was exhausting, and he was seasoned, as was the crew. He could only imagine how Brooke felt. If he’d had time to breathe, he’d have asked her.

As it was, they couldn’t do much more than glance at each other, because between the multitude of calls, they still had the maintaining and keeping up of the station and vehicles, not to mention their required physical training.

But he did glance at her.

Plenty.

And she glanced back. She appeared to hold up under pressure extremely well; even when everyone else looked hot, sweaty and irritated, she never did. Look sweaty and irritated, that is.

Hot? That she most definitely looked.

It’d been a long time since he’d flirted so slowly with a woman like this, over days, mostly without words. A very long time, and he’d forgotten how arousing it could be. He figured if they had to pass each other one more time without taking it to the next step—and he had plenty of ideas on what that next step should be, all involving touching and stripping and nakedness, lots of naked-ness—they’d both go up in flames.

One late afternoon a week and a half into Brooke’s employment, he headed toward her to see about that whole thing, but of course, the bell rang.

It was a kitchen fire, with a man down. Zach and Aidan were first on scene, with Dustin and Brooke pulling in right behind them in front of a small house that sat on a high bluff overlooking the ocean. By the time they got inside, the fire had been extinguished by the supposedly downed man himself, who was breathing like a lunatic and looked to be in the throes of a panic attack. Zach and Aidan checked to make sure the doused fire couldn’t flare up and then began mop-up while Dustin tried to get the guy to sit, but he wasn’t having it.

“No.” Chest heaving, covered in soot, he pointed at Brooke. “I want her. The chick paramedic.”

Everyone looked at Brooke. For some reason, she looked at Zach. He wanted to think it was because they’d been looking at each other silently for days, building an odd sense of anticipation for…something, but probably it was simply that he’d been the first person she’d met here.

“I’m an EMT,” she told the victim. “Not a paramedic.”

“I don’t care.” The guy was gasping for air, clutching at his chest. “It’s you or nothing.”

HER OR NOTHING. Brooke could honestly say that she’d never heard that sentence before, at least directed at her. She looked at the crew around her, all of whom were looking at her, perfectly willing and accepting of her taking over.

And in that moment, she knew. They might tease her and call her New Hire, but the truth was, they treated her as a part of their team, a capable, smart part of their team, and she appreciated that. “What’s your name?”

“Carl.”

“Okay, Carl. Let’s sit.”

“I’m better standing. Listen, I was just cooking eggs, but then the pan caught fire.”

“It’s okay,” Brooke assured him. “The fire’s out now. Let’s worry about you.”

“I have a problem.”

Yes, he did. He was pale, clammy and sweating profusely. “Let’s work on that problem.”

“It’s, uh, a big one. It won’t go away.” Still breathing heavy, the guy looked down at his fly. “If you know what I mean.”

Everyone stopped working on the kitchen mop-up and looked at the guy’s zipper, and Brooke did the same.

He was erect.

She glanced at the guys. Dustin pushed up his glasses. Aidan busied himself with the cleanup. Zach rubbed his jaw and met Brooke’s gaze, his own saying that he’d seen it all, but not this.

Carl shoved his fingers through his hair, still trying to catch his breath. “See, I was supposed to have this hot date last night, but Mr. Winky wasn’t working. So I took a vitamin V.”

“Vitamin V?” Brooke pulled out a chair and firmly but gently pressed him into it. “What’s vitamin V?”

“Viagra.”

Brooke processed that information while Carl stared down at his lap with a mixture of pride and bafflement. “It worked, too. A little too well.”

“Okay.” Brooke opened her bag and began to check his vitals, carefully not looking at the guy’s zipper again.

“So…can you fix this? I’ve never had a twelve-hour case of blue balls before. Could it…kill me?”

“No one’s dying today.” Behind her, Dustin was checking in with the hospital, as was protocol. From the victim she took the basics: name, age, weight, etc. Dustin set down his radio and turned to her. “We have a few questions.”

“Not you,” Carl said, shaking his head. “Her.”

“Right.” Dustin wrote something down and pushed the piece of paper toward Brooke. It was the questions the E.R. doctor wanted answered. She paused, tucking a nonexistent stray piece of hair behind her ear while she tried to figure out how to do this and keep Carl’s dignity, not to mention her own. “Carl? How many Viagras did you take?”

“Oh. Um.” He looked away, catching Aidan’s and Zach’s eye. “Just the one.”

Brooke gave him a long look. She was not a pushover, not even close. “One?”

“Okay, two.”

“Are you sure?”

Mr. Vitamin V caved. “Four. Okay? I took four. I really wanted to do this.” Still breathing unsteadily, he put his hand on his heart. “Am I going to have a heart attack? Because I feel like I’m having a heart attack.”

Brooke was waiting on Dustin, who was talking to the E.R. about the four pills. “Just hang tight for a second.”

“Hanging tight. Or at least my boys are.” He smiled feebly at his joke. “Do I have to go to the hospital?”

“Finding that out now.” She did her best not to squirm, extremely aware of all the eyes on her, especially Zach’s, as Dustin gave her another piece of paper, which she read. Oh, boy. “Carl, when did you last have sex?”

Carl blinked. “When did I last have sex? Are you kidding me? That’s why I took the pills in the first place!”

Again Brooke accidentally met Zach’s gaze. He was cool, calm, and not showing a thing, but she felt her own face heat. If she had to answer this question, she’d have to admit that she couldn’t even remember. “We need to know when you last ejaculated.”

“Oh.” Carl let out a long breath. “Jesus. Yesterday. In the shower.”

Nodding, she made the note.