Vital Signs (4 page)

With her whole body. Rubbing on him until his eyes darkened with lust instead of pain.

She shook herself and found her mother had gone silent.

“I don’t know him well,
Mami
. I only helped him after he had an accident rescuing a dog from a fire.”

Her mother made a soft noise that was close to a sigh. She’d never involve herself directly in Sarita’s love life, but she did respect her mother’s opinion on all topics.

“I hear something in your voice, Sarita. Something I haven’t heard before.”

Her heart began to thump. She forced her breathing to calm and slow. Picking at a loose thread on her towel, she said, “There’s something between us when we look at each other.”

“Ah.”

She waited for more, but nothing came. Finally, she said, “Please tell me your thoughts.”

A sniffle sounded. Alarm rushed up in Sarita. Before she could speak, her mother said, “I had such a thing with your Papa. We looked at each other and the world went away.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“It’s an exciting feeling, my daughter. I know you have a good brain and you won’t jump into the stew pot.”

Sarita smiled at the image. “I won’t.”

“This thing between you is strong?”

“I…I don’t know. I’ve only seen him a few times, visiting him in the hospital.” When she thought about it, she really did want to know more about Corey. To learn what courage it took to go into a burning building and save lives. Or to lean in and rest her nose against his big chest and just inhale his scent.

A shiver zigzagged down her spine and she was suddenly aware she was still nude with thoughts of Corey stampeding through her mind.

“I have no doubt this man will look at my daughter and fall madly in love with her. I hope you will let your mind guide you as well as your heart, Sarita.”

“I will.” She didn’t think she’d jump into something silly or bad for her. But then again, her body seemed to rule her when she was around the handsome man.

A few more minutes of catching up and then Sarita hung up. She set her phone aside and flopped onto her back to stare at the ceiling. It surprised her that her
mami
would relate her own strong response to her papa. Before he’d died, their relationship had been strong. Stuff of fairytales. Her father working hard all day but always making time to woo her mother with flowers or a trinket he’d carved from wood.

She sighed and rolled onto her side. With Corey on her mind so much, the world seemed to be spinning out of control. She almost wished she had her simple life back—work, rest, work, rest. But deep down, she knew that period of her life was over. The man she’d met made her restless.

She wanted to feel his strong hands on her, molding her, shaping her to fit his needs. And she wanted to be brought to the pinnacle of pleasure with hard, rough strokes of his cock.

Tomorrow she’d visit him in the hospital and see what resulted from it. He’d either look at her with the same ravenous expression or he’d see her as a simple EMT who had helped him.

But when she got a chance to visit him, she learned he’d been released from the hospital and she had no idea how to find him.
Guess the fantasy is over.

Corey ran his fingers through his hair and glared at his laptop. Every window he had opened was a dead end. Or maybe it wasn’t. There
was
an obscure case…

All morning he’d been researching the chemical that had been used in the house fire. The name of it was a foot long and a complex compound he’d never heard of.

Apparently the chemical had many uses. Hell, any idiot could get their hands on it.

But not just any idiot knows that if you combine it with the pool chemicals, you get a faster-burning, hotter fire.

Now they had to start finding people who worked at pool companies or owned pools and check out their criminal records.
No problem. There are only thousands of those people in Northern California.

He also was focused on some fires from the nineties where a minor was suspected but there was no more information on this. If he put his findings in the hands of the police, would they go straight to the sealed case files and question the minor who was now an adult? And if this was in fact their bad guy, could it mess up their case?

A violent criminal could act out worse. Or he could go underground and it would be years before he surfaced again, if ever. No, Corey needed to discuss this with his chief first, and maybe Chief could pull some strings to launch an undercover investigation.

He set aside his laptop and shifted his legs to get out of bed, hating how slowly he moved these days. At this rate, he’d be off work for the full twelve weeks. How could he carry a hose or wear sixty pounds’ worth of gear when walking from the bedroom to the kitchen made him want a nap?

Using his arms, which didn’t seem to be as weak as they had been several days ago, he pushed himself off the mattress and stood. For a second, he swayed. Sweat popped out on his brow.

“Dammit.” It was hard to do for himself but he’d never admit that he needed help. Jagger’s pretty little wife Hanna had offered to come over and help out, but he couldn’t bear to allow such a thing.

If he had family, now would be the time for them to step up. But his father was gone, his mother in a nursing home some distance away. He’d visited her monthly before his accident. Her dementia was so progressed that she hadn’t known him. She certainly didn’t know about his accident.

And he was an only child. If he ever got the chance to have kids, he’d never have only one.

A dry bark of a laugh left him. Who was he kidding? He was forty-two years old. His ship had sailed.

Unless I find a pretty young thing.

Sarita’s lovely face flashed in his mind, and he stuffed it down. Growling, he set off to the kitchen at a fast pace. Well, fast for him these days. He ground his teeth against the twinges in his chest and the way his leg muscles shook. But he made himself coffee and a bowl of cereal before collapsing into a chair.

He hadn’t lied when he’d told Sarita he hated breakfast, but he was too exhausted to do more than pour stuff into a bowl. After breakfast he used to run six miles before grabbing a shower and getting to the station. Now the best he could hope for was making it to bed for a nap.

With some effort, he lifted the spoon and sank it into the bowl. Wheat flakes swirled along with his head. He had no desire to eat but felt a nagging hunger and underlying weakness. If he wanted to repair his system, he needed good nutrition.

Just as he raised the spoon to his mouth, the door buzzer sounded. Another groan left him. “Who the fuck is here?”

He got up too fast and had to catch the table to steady himself. The buzzer sounded again and he realized he’d been standing there for too many seconds.

“Hell.” He started to the door where the intercom panel was located. He liked the security in this building, but it was a pain to buzz guests in. Not that he got many.

Another buzz had him seething. He stabbed the button. “What the hell do you want?”

A beat of silence, and then, “It’s Sarita.”

Though his head was doing the backstroke, he had the presence of mind to hate himself for his words. What
did
she want, though? He glanced down at his bare chest and plaid pajama pants. Getting dressed was out of the question. By the time he struggled into clothing, he’d be passed out sleeping on his bed.

There was no hope for it. He was either letting her see him in his current state or he was ignoring her.

“Corey, I’m just here to check on you. I went by the station and Jagger said you might need some help.”

Fucking Jagger. Figured the man would interfere.
Or play Cupid.

Pressing his lips firmly together, Corey tried to think of something to say to Sarita. Something nice to let her know he was grateful she’d made the trip to see him but he wasn’t going to let her in.

Why not?
His mind asked.

Because I can’t let her see me this way. I’m weak.

Wounds aren’t weak. She knows that. Let her in.

Too exhausted by fighting with himself, he pushed the button to allow Sarita into the building.

He barely had time to scuff his knuckles over his jaw and realize it’d been too long since he’d shaved when she was knocking at his door. Trepidation running through his system, he opened it. Offered her a smile that might have been toothy and wolfish.

She sucked the air out of him with her beauty. Long, luxurious hair waving over her shoulders. She wore a simple white T-shirt that hugged her curves just right and a pair of dark jeans that were a second skin. When he found himself staring at her sandaled feet and bare toes, painted electric blue, he shook himself.

“Oh my. How long have you been this way?” She grasped his shoulders and walked him back into his apartment, closing the door behind herself. Concern etched across her striking features. A tiny beauty mark at the corner of her lips drew his attention.

“You’re about to fall over. Are you all alone up here trying to heal
and
take care of yourself?”

Somehow he found himself on the sofa, his legs lifted onto the cushions and his head on a pillow. She touched his forehead with her soft fingers. There seemed to be nothing to say.

“Are you all right? Corey, I’m more worried about you now than I was after speaking with Jagger.” Her dark brows drew together.

He melted beneath her gaze. “You’re so beautiful, there aren’t words.”

Her plump lips fell open and then a soft sigh left her. “Thank you. Now tell me how you’re feeling. No, better yet, let me listen to you.” She rummaged in her handbag and came out with a stethoscope. As she pressed it to various spots on his chest, he stared at her hair and the far-off expression she got while listening to his chest rattle.

“Hmm. I’m no doctor, but I bet after some rest you’d feel better. When was the last time you ate?”

“Why are you here?” he challenged, though his voice was a mere rasp.

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked again.

Seeing she wasn’t going to budge, he waved a hand in the direction of the kitchen. “I was having cereal when you arrived.”

She gave a small shake of her head that might have made him laugh if he had the energy. “Cold cereal? You need a hot, fortifying breakfast. I bet you don’t even have groceries, though, do you?” She pushed off her knees where she’d sank next to him and wagged a finger in his face. “Stay put and I’ll make you breakfast. And don’t you dare tell me you hate breakfast.”

“Sarita.”

“I knew you were stubborn, but staying alone while recovering from an injury like yours? I can’t believe it.”

“Sarita.” God, she was beautiful when riled. He wanted to piss her off good and then kiss her until she surrendered. That would be the extent of things until he regained his strength, though. Twelve weeks couldn’t come fast enough, especially with a sexy-as-sin woman in front of him.

Jagger knew what he was doing.

When she looked down at him, head cocked to the side and her eyes as soft as melted chocolate, his heart stumbled over a beat. “What is it, Corey?”

“I hate you seeing me this way.”

“Oh shush. I’m going to make you breakfast now.” She swung away. He gathered enough energy to turn his head and watch her fine ass sway all the way to his kitchen. He heard a few pans rattling around, the refrigerator door and cupboards opening and closing. The scent of frying butter reached him.

He closed his eyes and listened to her humming softly. The tune had a foreign feel that echoed her exoticness. She captivated him.

A plate suddenly appeared beneath his nose. Eggs and two strips of bacon. A half of a tomato filled with herbs and cheese. He blinked. And then the plate vanished and her strong hands were beneath him, helping him into a sitting position. Another pillow propped behind him and one on his lap to balance his plate on.

“You’re efficient, I’ll give you that.” He sounded grumpier than he wanted to.

“That’s good training.”

“They train you to cook breakfast in your EMT course?”

“No, my mother taught me to cook breakfast. And to care for the sick. I helped care for my papa when he was suffering with cancer. Now eat every bite. You need your energy.”

“Are you always so bossy?” He couldn’t deny the food looked delicious, even the stuffed tomato, which he’d never tried for breakfast.

“I get my way, yes.”

He liked how she said that—unapologetically. Feeling that dark and dangerous stirring low in his groin again, he took the fork she was holding out and began to eat. She watched him for a minute as if waiting for him to throw the plate against the wall like an angry toddler. When he didn’t, she nodded and went back into the kitchen. A minute later she returned with hot coffee and a small glass of juice.

“Are you going to eat?” he asked.

“I had breakfast before coming here.”

“Jagger sent you?”

“Well…” a pink flush climbed her high cheekbones, leaving a warm glow on her tawny skin, “I went by the station to find out how you’ve been. The hospital wouldn’t give me any details and my friends who are nurses didn’t know anything.”

He stared at her, touched that she’d asked about him. That she’d visited the station to find out more.

“Eat.”

With a smile playing at the corners of his lips, he took a bite of buttery egg. The flavors melted on his tongue, and his stomach growled, demanding more. He polished off the whole egg while she told him about Jagger giving her his address and revealing that he was recovering alone.

“You needed a day nurse at the very least. Don’t you realize what it takes to heal after you have a surgery like yours? Let alone that injury?”

Yeah, he did. He just wasn’t going to admit it.

“Are you done giving me lip service about my decisions? I realize I’m not in top shape, but I’ve been doing fine.”

She eyed him, her mouth opened as if to disagree. Then she snapped her lips closed. “How is your wound? Does it open at all? Any seepage around the site?”