My Calling (7 page)

“Are you kidding me? I mean, seriously, Beck, make up your mind! All of this hot and cold crap just isn’t cutting it! Either you like me or you don’t, which is it?”

My face flushes red, shocking myself at my bold statement. This man is really doing a number on my nerves to get me so worked up like this. Usually men melt in my presence, and I mean that in a completely non-vain way, but it’s true. This one though is very hard to read and is driving me insane.

Beck cocks his head to the side. “Did you just say crap?”

“What?” I ask flustered.

“Crap. You just said ‘crap.’ Saylor Warner, you just cussed.”

That awkward grin of Beck’s is making his lips twitch. I shake my head vehemently, denying his allegation but he just keeps nodding in the most annoying fashion. I can feel my cheeks getting warm with each movement of his head.

“I did not and even if I did, that word isn’t considered a curse word.”

“What word, Saylor?” Beck asks, egging me on.

I roll my eyes, knowing we need to get back to work. “Whatever, Beck.”

Retreating to our rig, Beck chuckles behind me. What I wouldn’t give to turn around and sock that laughter right off his face but I take a deep breath, doing everything I can to not let him bother me but it’s no use. His quirky smile and his uncharacteristic amusement makes me want to do nothing more than turn around and run into his arms so I can taste the laughter on his lips.

CHAPTER 10

Saylor

It’s been a week since I called Beck out about his indecisiveness. Despite every effort to steer clear of him, it’s impossible not to notice the man on any given day but especially when he’s half-naked in front of me in our locker room before each shift. I’m standing in front of my locker, keeping an eye on how perfectly his back muscles roll as he pulls on his shirt and I don’t notice anyone beside me until Calvin moans.

“Ahh…”

He continues moaning and I force myself to look away from Beck. When I look at Calvin, I’m a little startled because I seem to be looking into the face of a ghost.

“Whoa, what’s wrong with you?” I place my hand on his forehead which is burning up.

Calvin shakes his head, his normal macho-ness gone much like the color in his cheeks. “I… I don’t know. I just feel like death.”

“You look like it, too,” I mutter, taking a seat beside him on the bench.

“Warner, what’s wrong with your partner?” our supervisor barks from across the room.

I jump up quickly as though he’s some kind of sergeant in the army. “Um, sir, I think he’s running a fever.”

“Home,” the veteran paramedic says without looking up from his iPad.

Calvin moans his appreciation and wastes no time heading for the door.

“What about me? Who will I work with?” I ask, suddenly feeling self-conscience about working with someone other than Calvin.

He glances up for his tablet and nods behind him. “How about you and Beck—”

“What about Annie?” Beck jumps in before our boss can finish.

“There’s something about blood in this line of work that you need to be okay with. She turned in her notice after yesterday’s shift.”

I gasp, shocked that Annie quit without telling any of us. On the flip side, our supervisor turns and exits the locker room as quickly as he entered and I’m standing face to face with Beck. I regain my composure and narrow my eyes in his direction. Beck shakes his head, laughing softly. I stand there still trying to soak in just exactly what’s happening when the door slams closed and I realize that was Beck leaving. Running after him, I catch up to him in the bay where the rigs are waiting for duty.

“Hey,” I yell and then stop, not exactly sure what I’m going to follow up with.

Beck lifts his eyebrow, waiting for me to go on but when I don’t, he asks, “You okay if I drive?” He doesn’t even wait for me to answer as he opens the driver side door and gets inside.

I march around the rig, opening his door and glaring at him. “Fine, Mr. Macho, you can drive but don’t think that means you’re in charge. Calvin and I work as a team and I hope you can do the same.”

Beck holds my gaze for a few seconds before he glances down my body. “You leave those top two buttons undone on purpose or you can’t get them to close?”

My cheeks burn bright and I glance down to where I never finished buttoning my shirt thanks to Beck’s back muscles I was enamored with and Calvin’s ghostly appearance. From where Beck sits in the driver’s seat, he has a straight shot down my blouse and the top of my hot pink, lace bra.

“Don’t worry, Saylor, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before, but why don’t you cover the girls up before we run into another drunk on the street that wants to oogle you?” Beck says in the most condescending tone that I’m half-tempted to leave my shirt the way it is, but I know it’s not professional.

I cock my head to the side. “Beck, I promise you these are nothing like you’ve ever seen. Feel free to look but keep your hands to yourself.”

I slam the door shut, my heart racing as I strut around the ambulance to climb in on the other side. My fingers work quickly trying to clasp the buttons closed. I don’t know what it is about Bearded Beck but he brings out some sort of confidence in me that also makes me want to cream in my panties at the same time.

Beck

Saylor and her fuckin’ tits. Those words should never go together but they just did. It’s bad enough I have to work side by side with her, but now it’s even worse that I have do so with a set of blue balls thanks to a couple undone buttons on her blouse. Luckily by the time she climbed in the rig, her tits were covered, saving me from the dirty thoughts that were already running rampant through my mind.

The first few calls have been pretty basic and Saylor’s taken the lead, after all, she is the more personable one between the two of us. She also insists on doing all the paperwork while I’m basically her chaffeur. It’s actually a pretty easy way to keep tabs on her and not have to listen to Annie’s wedding plans that make my ears bleed. Plus, it allows me to listen to Saylor singing/humming along with the radio. She sings the words she knows then when a part comes on she’s not familiar with, her voice gets quieter and she only hums. It’s kind of hilarious and I would love to give her shit about it but right now isn’t the time.

A call comes in for a thirty-five year old, unconscious female at her home. I flip on the sirens and head to the address while Saylor informs the dispatcher that we’re responding. Keeping my eyes on the road, out of the corner of my eyes, I notice Saylor leaning forward in anticipation of what awaits us. She does it every time a call comes in even if it’s something as simple as someone having indigestion. It shows her desire to excel and do well in her profession which I would never tease her about.

I pull the rig in front of a single family, two-story home. It’s the whole works, white picket fence, two-car garage, seasonal wreath on the door. The only downside is that the mother of this family is unconscious on the other side of that perfect decor. Saylor grabs the bag and throws it on the stretcher as we jog inside. If I had to be honest, a little bit of adrenaline sparks through me, too, each time we respond to a call. Call it the thrill of the job if you will but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge… just look at my relationship with Saylor.

Saylor knocks on the door, waiting a few seconds then pushing it open. There, in the middle of the living room, is our victim. Saylor drops beside her, running through the basics and checking her vitals. I’m getting things ready for the next part of the check-up when a tiny sniffle catches my attention. I look over at the staircase and see a boy, maybe eight, hovering in the doorway. My eyes dart back and forth between him and Saylor, making sure she doesn’t need me and praying to all things holy that this kid isn’t getting traumatized.

“The vic is pretty banged up, looks like she had a seiz—” Saylor updates me but stops when I cough loudly to interrupt her. She sees the boy and nods. “She’s going to be alright. Whoever called 911 is a hero,” Saylor says, changing her tune but not making eye contact with the little guy.

I look at him again and nod, giving him a wink. Instantly, his shoulders rise and he takes a step toward us. Saylor and I move his mom on our gurney now that she’s stable. A cop walks in the front door as we start to roll her toward our rig. We move quickly, loading her into our ambulance and jetting across town to the hospital. The police car with her son is right behind us. Once we have her checked in and signed off on paperwork, we head outside to continue our shift.

“Excuse me?”

Saylor and I both stop, looking at the police officer and the little boy. Silence fills the air in the short distance between us and them although chaotic emergency room noises play loudly around us. Without notice, the little boy runs straight into my legs, casting his arms around me and squeezing tightly. I let out an “oof” as he takes me by surprise and I stand there awkwardly. Saylor looks like she might cry as she smiles beside me and the cop nods at me. Unsure what to do, I pat the kid’s back until he finally lets go and returns to the officer.

Some sort of odd feeling runs down my spine and I’m not sure if I’m creeped out or if it’s something more along the lines of feeling good after helping someone. I’m not too familiar with the latter but judging by the misty eyes of Saylor, I have a feeling that’s what it is. When she notices me looking at her, she turns quickly and continues her march to the rig. I sigh, thank god this shift is almost over. Saylor’s making me soft in one way and way too hard in another.

CHAPTER 11

Beck

“Beck. Warner. My office.”

As much as I despise authority, I like that our boss keeps things short and to the point. Saylor glances in my direction nervously. I shrug my shoulders, trying to put her at ease but I keep my ‘I don’t give a shit’ look on my face in an effort to still keep her at a distance. I let Saylor walk in front of me which is a bad idea given how her BDU pants hug her firm ass. I close the door behind us, trying to adjust myself thanks to the way my body reacts to her tight, little body.

Our supervisor thumbs through a folder in his hands, not fully facing us as he begins to speak. “I’ve had quite a few calls about the two of you after the seizure lady call the other day.”

Saylor straightens her posture, her bright red lips flattening as she waits for what’s going to come next. See, the difference between her and myself is that she gives a shit about this job while I just give a shit about her. Her eyes are focused on the superior in front of us while I’m ready to keep Saylor from fleeing after our boss says his piece.

“The cop was impressed with the way you handled the kid, Beck. He said when he arrived on scene it was like the two of you had this fluid conversation without even speaking and the whole thing was handled perfectly. The mom’s doing great, the kid wasn’t scared shitless, and you two got us on the good side of the cops and the hospital which doesn’t happen often.”

Saylor’s lips twitch, wanting to smile but she tries to contain her excitement. Me on the other hand doesn’t give a shit about professionalism and I feel my lips involuntarily trying to smile for both Saylor and myself.

“The staff in the ER were impressed with you two and the mom wouldn’t shut the hell up about how much she appreciated everything you guys did for her family. So, long story short, you two are partners until I tell you differently.”

“But, what about Calvin?” Saylor blurts out, any hint of a smile long gone.

“We’ll find him another partner. Besides, I need someone to keep this jackass in line.” The boss grins in my direction as he says that last part and I take his words as a compliment.

Saylor starts to object again, but I take her hand and walk us out of his office. When the door closes behind us, Saylor yanks her hand away, placing them on her hips. She leans forward as she starts a rant about how this is ridiculous, we’re going to fail, she can’t work in these conditions, and blah blah blah. All I’m noticing is her sweet perfume tickling my nose.

“What is that smell?” I ask, leaning away from her, trying to escape the sweet scent of Saylor.

“What are you talking about?” Saylor lifts her nose, taking deep inhales, trying to figure out what I’m referring to.

I sniff in her direction and shake my head. “It’s you.”

Her face goes white and she leans toward her armpit, trying to secretly smell herself.

“Your perfume.” I try my best not to roll my eyes but I fail miserably. “Your perfume is messin’ with my allergies. You’re going to have to get rid of it.”

Saylor looks slightly relieved that I’m only referring to her perfume and not some kind of funky BO. She throws back her head, lets out a huff then marches down the hallway. Her perfume doesn’t do shit to my allergies but it’s one less way to be tempted by her.

Saylor

A week into this partnership and aside from the perilous silence we suffer through between calls, it hasn’t been as bad as I expected. Our supervisor was right, Beck and I seriously have some kind of superpower where we don’t even have to talk to know exactly what the other person is going to do when we’re on a call. I kind of take the lead on all things medical while he does more crowd control whether is be shielding a child from their wounded parent or nosey bystanders wanting to know what’s going on. Still, I’m a people person and this cold shoulder from Beck is driving me insane.

Beck drives down the road, one hand on the wheel and paying no attention to me. The setting sun provides a perfect silhouette, allowing me to see exactly how chiseled his jawline is under that gruffy beard. I clear my throat and Beck glances in my direction for about point five seconds then back to the road as though I’m not even in the same vehicle as him.