“Oh.” My brows pinch together. “What were you expecting?”
“You know, the usual when people are caught out in a lie. Excuses. Anger. Somehow making it my fault.”
“Who does that? That’s absurd.”
“I tend to agree, but lately that hasn’t been my experience.”
“Well, I was the one who was wrong, so it’s only right I apologize.”
“And you don’t like being wrong, do you?”
I hear the smile in his voice, and it has my own lips twitching in response. “It doesn’t happen that often, no.”
His soft chuckle does things to me. Things I shouldn’t dwell on. Things that make me want to meow like the cougar I apparently am.
Clearing my throat, I get back to the matter at hand. “May I ask how the public relations person knew to connect me with your number?”
“Just a perk of the job.”
I think of Cammie’s enthusiastic, youthful voice. “I bet.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Nothing.” I wave away my bitterness, though he can’t see me. “So. What would you like to know about the animal shelter?”
“Okay. To start, what kind of animals would you like to showcase? I did some research, and Space City has a few birds and bunnies too.”
The fact that he did research while I fake-numbered him only adds to my guilt. “Yes, they do. Not many, but I think at last count they have three bunnies and two birds. They were given up by their former owners. The other animals at the shelter are all cats and dogs.”
“Who the hell gives up their pet?”
His indignation makes me smile. “The birds are a bonded pair. Their owners were elderly and when they passed, the birds were left behind. Birds can live as long as humans. They didn’t have any children to take them in, so the shelter took them.”
“Oh.” His anger dims. “That sucks.”
“Yes. Definitely sucks.”
“And the bunnies?”
“That one doesn’t have such a good explanation. They just showed up on the doorstep in a box one day. All girl bunnies. Thankfully none were pregnant.”
“Huh.”
“Do you think any of the firemen would mind posing with birds or bunnies?”
“Nah. Most of the guys love animals. Even Javy, and he’s allergic to most anything with fur. He already said he’d take a Benadryl before the shoot.”
The pit in my stomach grows. “You’ve already talked to the guys about the calendar?”
“Of course. It’s already December. If we want this done by Christmas, we’ve got to get cracking.”
I take a deep breath, not used to feeling quite so ashamed of myself. “I really am sorry, Ryan.”
“Hey.” His voice is soft. “That’s okay. It isn’t like you weren’t giving off some pretty strong hell-no vibes the other day. It was a stressful situation that I probably made more so by asking you out.”
I’m very glad this is a phone call and he can’t see the enormous grin on my face.
“I was just hoping once things calmed down, and that crazy astronaut friend of yours wasn’t in the mix, you’d want to work with me on this.”
“I’m sorry about the vibes. You just caught me off guard is all.”
“Like I said, not a problem.” There’s a beat where I’d bet money he’s grinning just as wide as I am. “So shall we go save some animals, one half-naked fireman at a time?”
Yes, please.
Four
Melting Point
Ryan
“I’m meeting Dr. Rebecca Sato,” I tell the receptionist at the animal shelter. I glance around, but don’t see the doc. “Do you know if she’s come in yet?”
“Rebecca?” the older lady behind the ancient, chipped desk asks. She’s wearing a cardigan in seventy-eight-degree weather, as only a born and bred Houstonian would do. “Yes, honey, she’s right down the hall.” She stands and points to her right. “Walk down that hallway and turn right at the end of the kennel runs.”
“Thanks, ma’am.” I wave and head through the archway and down a long hallway. Kennels on either side. It’s depressing as shit.
The shelter is cinderblock construction. Which I get. It’s sturdy, and the firefighter in me knows you can’t get safer than a cement house. But you know what else is made of cinderblock? Prisons. And walking down the long run of kennels, where animals cuddle and cower, waiting for their new home, I can’t help being sad as hell.
Not all the kennels are occupied, though, and I wonder why the doc said they needed to expand if they aren’t even full.
But that question is answered as soon as I turn the corner and see through the open doorway, blocked with a child gate. At least twenty dogs are running around in the outside, fenced-in area, jumping, barking, playing and overall having the best time.
In the middle, on the ground, being licked to death, is the doctor.
It’s only been four days, so the image of her is fresh in my mind. However, seeing her with a large smile on her face and her pale skin flush with happiness as furballs prance around her, I think I fall a little bit more in love.
It started when she unwrapped what I now know was a wet hospital gown from her face and has only grown over the past few days. I’ve called her every night, each time with some calendar-shelter related inquiry, and managed to segue those conversations into more personal matters.
Like how she’s a flight surgeon. A freaking doctor to astronauts. How she was raised by her Japanese mother in California until she went to med school and her mother moved back to Japan. She’s smart, hot and drama-free.
She’s basically everything I’ve been hoping to find since I started my online dating quest about a year ago. The guys make fun of me, a twenty-something year old fireman looking to settle down. But I’ve never been one to play the field, and I’ve always known I wanted a family.
I swing my leg over the gate. “Need a hand?”
The doc starts at my voice, as do the dogs. Seeing me as new meat, they leave the doc on the ground and swarm my boots. A few jump up and I’m thankful I wore jeans. I pet as many as I can, scratching behind ears, patting their sides. They’re a happy bunch.
“Glad you could make it.”
I look up from their excited, slobbery faces, and feel like slobbering myself. The doc’s in high-waisted black leggings that showcase her slender legs, and a cropped, pink compression shirt that highlights her small waist and trim build.
Dr. Rebecca Sato had been banging in scrubs and a lab coat. But in body hugging leggings and a tight compression shirt? I’m seconds away from drooling at her feet with the rest of this riffraff.
I wipe my chin just in case. “No problem.”
Brushing off her backside, which doesn’t help the current situation I’m fighting behind my zipper, she walks closer. Her high ponytail swishes as she moves, and my active imagination wants to do very bad things to her while that ponytail is wrapped around my fist.
I don’t know if it’s the company I’m currently surrounded by or what, but the doc has turned me into a raging horndog.
“Let’s let these guys burn off some more energy and I’ll show you the rest of the place.” She passes me, shooing the dogs away from the door as she hops over the child gate. I follow her, enjoying the sight of her ass in those leggings.
“Why aren’t these guys out there playing?” I gesture to the dogs I passed in the kennels on my way out to see her.
“Two reasons, really. One, because the yard isn’t big enough for everyone. That’s something I’m hoping the fundraiser can help with. There’s a good amount of land here, so the shelter doesn’t need to move, but they do need a larger fenced-in area.” She passes a larger dog who immediately starts barking, baring his teeth. “And two, because these pups are new to the shelter and they haven’t had experience socializing yet. We’re trying to let them feel the place out, get used to the noise and the people.”
A small dog is huddled up in
the corner of the kennel on my right. Squatting down, I wiggle my fingers in the gate. “Hey there, boy.” I make kissing sounds and everything, but the tan and black wire-haired dog doesn’t move toward me, though he does raise his head and his ears twitch.
The doc crosses her arms and leans back on an empty kennel with a smile. “That’s actually Penelope.”
“Ah, no wonder she’s giving me the side eye.” I look back to the pup. “Sorry, girl.”
“She came in last week.” The doc squats down next to me, and Penelope’s head pops up higher. “The volunteers have all spent time with her one on one since then, and she’s been checked out by the vet. But she’s still nervous.” She stands again and gestures back to the lobby where I came in. “On the other side are the cats.” She tilts her head when I stay down, still trying to temp Penelope to my hand. “Or maybe you’re just a dog person.”
Giving up but promising myself to come back with treats next time, I rise. “Nah, I just can’t resist a girl playing hard to get.” I wink, pleased when she blushes. “Now lead on and give me some kittens to cuddle.”
Rebecca
He cuddled all the kittens.
Every. Single. One. Even the too-old-to-be-called-kittens kittens. The overfed kittens, the skin and bone kittens and even the one-legged kitten.
By the time he was done giving affection to all the rescue animals, the shelter’s cats weren’t the only kitten I wanted him to pet.
I blame my aging, raging hormones on my lapse of judgment, when after we’d cleaned up after the cuddle session, I asked him if he wanted to get something to eat.
To discuss the calendar, of course. Not an actual lunch date or anything. Something I made clear, albeit in a rambling, embarrassing way after I asked him to lunch. He just laughed and then followed me in his car to my favorite lunch spot, Boondoggles.
I’m not sure what he found so funny about my clarification, and I’m sure as hell not laughing when our waitress basically climbs in his lap when we sit down.
“I’ll have a Blue Moon, please,” I say flatly to the waitress when she makes no move to look my way.
Part of me understands. Even out of uniform in a T-shirt and jeans, Ryan is eye-catching. He’s large, both tall and broad, and well-muscled. His body and All-American good looks reminds me of Chris Hemsworth in Thor. But, you know, younger.
Maybe it was because my mother wanted me to date Japanese boys, but the rebel in me always drew me to blue-eyed blondes. They seemed so exotic.
“Ma’am, my date would like a Blue Moon.” Ryan’s voice is hard, snapping the waitress out of her muscle-induced trance.
“Yes. Of course. Sorry about that.” Her embarrassed flush makes me feel bad, but she rushes off before I can soften my expression.
Completely ignoring the fact that he was just eye-fucked by a stranger, Ryan picks up the laminated menu and peruses the offerings. “So, what’s good here?”
To my right is a threesome of pretty twenty-somethings giggling and drinking. Another waitress, this one, tall and slender with colorful tattoos snaking up her arm and bouncing cleavage, strides by. His eyes never leave mine.
“The pizza.” My voice is raspy for some reason. I clear my throat and try again. “The pizza is great. I like the Florentini. It’s a white pizza with eggplant, artichokes and spinach.”
He makes a funny gagging sound. “Vegetables don’t belong on pizza. That’s like sacrilege or something.”
“Oh really?” I rest my head on my hand. “Then what do you like on your pizza?”
He places the menu back on the table and leans forward. “Meat and cheese. The only way to go.”
“A traditional man, then.” Not sure why that brings a twinge of disappointment to my chest.
He tilts his head, thinking over my statement. “Maybe about some things.” He gives me a flirty look. “But not everything.” He waggles his eyebrows, making me laugh while arousing me at the same time.
“Here you go.” The waitress plops down our beers, breaking the moment. “Have you decided on what to eat?” Her eyes are on Ryan.
Before I can place my hand in my lap, he reaches over and grabs it, cradling it in his. Eyes never wandering to our waitress, he answers. “My date will have the Florentini pizza.” I can’t help but chuckle when he shudders. “And I’ll have the Carnivore, please.”
“Ah, sure thing.” She’s still looking at Ryan, but I have a feeling that the wistful expression isn’t due to Ryan’s god-of-thunder-like physique, but rather because of the adoring way he’s looking at me.
The waitress dribbles down her notepad and spins away, leaving Ryan and me looking at each other like a couple of… well, like an actual couple.
“I thought I said this wasn’t a date.”
“You did.” He squeezes my hand lightly. “But if you recall, I never actually agreed.”
I snort. “Oh.”
He looks down at my hand, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over my skin.
“I’m thirty-six, remember.”
“Yes. I remember.” He smiles.
“That, that doesn’t bother you? I must be at least four years older than you?”
I might have imagined the quick flash of guilt in his eyes, but then he blinds me with a full-wattage smile, and I forget all about it. “Not in the slightest.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what else to say. It’s not like I want to point out all the complications that come with an older woman dating a younger guy. I don’t want to assume he’s thinking long term and not just a fling. So I keep quiet and enjoy the fact that this handsome, caring, brave man is interested in me. If only for one date.
It’s a far cry from the men who hit on me at medical conferences or the forty- and fifty-year-old men who seem to be the only ones interested in dating a woman my age on my dating apps. I might as well enjoy the little bubble of attraction I’m experiencing.
“The station is having a barbecue tomorrow afternoon. Will you come?”
And though the bubble doesn’t burst, it does seem to deflate a little. Here, at our table on the porch of a small restaurant, I can pretend this is normal. That outside forces or opinions don’t matter. But in front of his friends and co-workers? I’m not so sure.
Sensing my reluctance, Ryan squeezes my hand again. “You need to meet your calendar models, after all. What if they aren’t up to snuff?”
That has me smiling. “What? Are you going to make them do the catwalk for me, so I can determine who gets what month?”
“Ah, I hate to break it to you, but we already pulled straws for that.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. The guys are pretty excited.”
“Oh. Well, I’m glad you didn’t have to force them.”
“You kidding? They’re a bunch of overgrown children.”
I must make a face, because he’s quick to speak up again.
“I mean that our job is really stressful. We see a lot of stuff that is hard on the heart, all while being in a dangerous situation. Being immature on our off time is like a re-set for us. Gives us a break. That’s all I meant.”
I remember what Jules said in the exam room, that women in stressful jobs need a release. The same would be true for someone who has to jump into burning buildings. And maybe she has a point. Maybe both she and Ryan have points. My life so far has been rewarding, but it is stressful. Maybe I need to live a little.
“Okay. Yes. The barbecue sounds great.”
Five
Palpitations
Rebecca
Why did I think this would be a good idea?
My hands, which have been steady as a rock since the day I first held a scalpel, are shaking while I lock my car door outside the address Ryan gave me for the picnic.
I hate how affected I am by this.
True, my other dates with men my age or older were boring. But they had felt safe. Like I wasn’t going to be humiliated or hurt if this went badly.
But they also didn’t make
me feel like I just finished a ten-hour E.R. shift and saved multiple lives in the process.
“Hey!” Ryan jogs out to my car, where I’ve been standing. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Oh, um, yeah. Just got here.”
The smirk he throws my way has me wondering just how long I have been standing there, and just how long he was watching my indecision.
“Come on back. We have everything set up in the backyard.” He circles an arm around my waist and prompts me to walk with him.
“Whose house is this?” I never thought to ask about the location after he gave me the address. When my GPS had me pulling in front of a two-story colonial, which is both unusual and pleasant in Texas, I wondered just where I was.
“This is my place.”
My feet stop in their tracks. “I’m sorry, did you say this is your house?”
His arm leaves my waist so he can run a hand through his hair. I can’t not look at his bicep when he does that. It’s impossible. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
“It’s just… it’s just so nice.”
A hurt look flashes across his face. “And that’s surprising?”
“No! I mean, yes.” I take a deep breath. “No, it shouldn’t be. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I guess seeing your house put my apartment to shame and I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry.”
“You sure like apologizing to me.” His easy grin has me relaxing.
“Well, I sure like acting like an idiot around you, so I guess it fits.”
He barks out a laugh at that, pulling me close to his side again. “Come on. Let me introduce you to the guys and their families.”
I let myself be dragged along, my mind only snagging on what he said as we cross the threshold to his house.
“Wait. Did you say families?”
He did. He said families. Not only are there firemen here, but their girlfriends, wives, children and parents.
Thankfully, Ryan says something about his parents not being able to make it this time, so I don’t show him just how quickly I can evacuate when necessary.
Space Age- Houston, Prepare for Launch Page 3
