by Rhian Cahill
“Damn, that’s bright,” Mazey muttered, squinting and shielding her eyes with her hand. “I should have grabbed my sunglasses.”
Rylan pulled his from his shirt pocket. “Here. Wear these for now.”
“No.” She waved them away. “I’ll be fine. And I’ll remember to keep mine on me from now on.”
“We run two choppers and a plane out of here. Two three-man crews on every shift, but we can pull others in if needed,” Rylan explained as they walked the short distance between the buildings. “In general, we use the choppers primarily. The plane is for less urgent and long distance patient transport.”
“Okay.”
“So, you worked in an ER?”
“Yeah, down in LA, Anaheim actually. I was there for six years, the last two as head of trauma.”
“You’re used to the adrenaline rush of urgent care then.”
Mazey nodded as they walked through the open hanger door. “Yes. I’m looking forward to having a break between those rushes though.”
“Let me show you where all the equipment and supplies are kept for when we need to replenish the choppers after a call, then we’ll head back outside to look at the one we’ll be flying if we get a call this shift.” They didn’t always get called out. And sometimes they did routine transport that didn’t require any urgency. Now that he thought about it, they had a patient transport booked for later today. It would be a good way to ease Mazey into the routine.
“Do we get many call-outs?” she asked.
“Hard to say. What would you call many? I think I’ve gone on at least one call a week since I’ve been here but not one a shift. Then again, we’ve had a couple of shifts with more than one call.” He shrugged. “Even if we don’t go out, we still run through training drills and check equipment, so you won’t be bored.”
Mazey smiled. “Honestly, I’m looking forward to those boring moments.”
“Really? After years in an ER?”
“Emergency medicine wasn’t my first choice when I went into nursing.”
“No? What was?”
“I wanted to specialize in pediatrics.”
“Why didn’t you?” He’d always known he’d go into the army and fly choppers. It was a no brainer as a civilian too. He couldn’t imagine doing anything other than flying a helicopter for a living.
“Ah.” She glanced away. “A few reasons.”
“So why not do that now?”
“Didn’t think about it.” She turned back to him. “Besides, I’m good at what I do, and this job seemed to be a perfect fit for the change I was looking for.”
There was a story there. He could see it in her eyes. Could see the pain that went along with it too. Maybe as they got to know each other better, she’d tell him about it. “Okay, so as you can see, everything is shelved and labeled, and really, you probably don’t need me to show you anything more than the room itself. You’re well versed in medical supplies, I’m sure.”
Mazey nodded.
“Have you ever been on a helicopter?”
“Once.” Grinning, she added, “But somehow, I don’t think you would count a tourist flight over the Grand Canyon.”
Rylan laughed. “I’ll show you the one we’re assigned. It’s the one I always fly. Although the crafts are identical, they keep the pilots on the same one from the beginning. Makes it easier to remember call signs, and you learn the chopper inside and out, so you know the second something isn’t right.”
“Makes sense.”
“This way. The plane is kept in here when not in use. The choppers are on the opposite side of the hanger next to the admin building.” At her questioning glance, he added with a gesture toward where they’d come from, “Technically that’s the admin building, most of us refer to it as admin, this as the hanger, and the whole place as the base.”
“Right, Cochran mentioned the base.”
“Do you want the full tour of the chopper? It might be better to see where everything is kept before we have an emergency situation.”
“Definitely. Do you mind if I poke around inside? Ask questions if I need to?”
“Nope, go ahead,” he said as they stepped up next to his chopper. He pointed at the one beyond his. “Bex is pilot of that one.”
“Bex? Bex is a helicopter pilot?”
He arched a brow.
“Not that I’m saying there’s anything wrong with that, but she can’t be much taller than me.”
Rylan grinned. “Height isn’t an issue when it comes to flying.”
“I just assumed . . .” she murmured as her gaze traveled over him from boots to ball cap.
He noticed but ignored what he thought was a spark of desire in her eyes. “Good thing, right? Or this giant would be shit out of luck,” he said with a smile.
Her lips twitched but didn’t stretch upward. “Good thing.”
“Hop in,” he said as he slid open the side door. “If you don’t see something you think should be there, give me a shout. I’m going to wander around out here to make sure she’s in one piece after last shift.”
“Okay.”
Rylan turned away, except he wasn’t quick enough to miss the sight of Mazey’s ass, covered in her snug uniform pants, at eye level when she climbed in. For the next five minutes, he pretended to check the chopper while he worked on deflating the inappropriate boner he’d sprung the second his eyes landed on that luscious backside.
The problem was he kept sneaking glances inside the chopper, and even the sight of that long blond tail of hair lying against Mazey’s spine seemed to get him revved up.
What the hell had this woman done to him? Something about her had jump-started his libido after months of inactivity.
Just this past Saturday night, he’d gone out with a few of the guys. There had been plenty of hot, available women around—he’d even been hit on a couple of times—and his dick hadn’t so much as twitched in interest.
He hadn’t been ready to move that part of his life forward yet. He wasn’t at that point of his plan. Except it didn’t appear as though he had a choice.
His body had decided he was interested in Mazey.
And he still had no clue if she was even available.
If she wasn’t, he was in for a world of hurt.
If she was . . .
Well, he was probably still in for a world of hurt.
They worked together.
He’d always had a rule of not mixing business with pleasure. It was why he’d never hooked up with anyone in the army despite the numerous offers.
Rylan watched Mazey jump from the chopper to the tarmac. Her thighs flexed, that blond ponytail swished, and her breasts bounced. Warmth coiled low in his groin, tightening his gut and shoving a lump into his throat.
Shit. He had a problem.
Work together or not, if Mazey wasn’t in a relationship, Rylan didn’t think he’d be able to stay away from her.
7
“I wanted to thank you again for covering my shift last week,” Alyssa said the second Mazey opened the door.
Waving her hand in the air, Mazey turned and headed back to the kitchen. “Don’t. It’s not like I’ve got a second job or personal responsibilities.”
“Still. I really appreciate you doing it last minute.”
“Is everything all right now?” Mazey asked. Alyssa hadn’t explained the need for the shift cover, but Mazey thought it had something to do with her sister, Penny.
Alyssa sighed. “I never thought I’d be raising a teenager without having a baby.”
Mazey glanced back to see her friend pulling a face.
“Not that I don’t want to take care of Penny, but damn, the girl is going to give me gray hair, and I’m only thirty-one.”
“I can only imagine.” She wouldn’t pry regardless of her curiosity but wanted Alyssa to know she’d be there for her in any way she needed. “Any time, any need, you know you can call me, right? I owe you for helping me get the job at Mercy-Life.”
In a move similar to Mazey’s earlier one, Alyssa waved that away. “You owe me nothing. I’m thrilled to have you here, and so far, you’ve more than proved you deserved the job.”
Mazey cringed. She’d struggled to remain idle in the first two weeks of her new job and had rearranged not only the bathroom and kitchen but every storage room on the base. “I hope I haven’t stepped on any toes—”
“Ha! We’re all super glad you want to do it. No one wants to deal with organizing or cataloging supplies unless they have to.” Shaking her head, she added, “I think we do it once a year at most. Right before annual budget reports are due.”
“Well, I guess nobody will complain about me doing it once a month from now on.” Mazey had spoken to Cochran the other day, receiving his approval to continue to monitor and organize the base during downtimes. Unlike her colleagues, she didn’t have a hobby she could do in between calls.
“Nope. Not a soul will complain.” Alyssa smiled. “Right. Enough about work. What do you need me to do to help put together this thing you’re making as your contribution to today’s barbecue, which isn’t necessary, you know. Christian and his wife have it covered.”
“I know. But I didn’t want to arrive empty-handed, and I figured a pie or two wouldn’t go uneaten.” She’d made a couple of cherry, pumpkin, and apple pies to be sure there was enough for everyone. Christian had said he was expecting about forty people. Adults and children.
“Wow, that’s more than a pie or two,” Alyssa said when she saw four pies on the kitchen counter.
“I like to bake.” Something she’d stopped doing when Stuart had commented on her weight. Frowning at that thought, she added, “And life’s too short to go without pie.”
“You are correct.” Leaning over a cherry pie Alyssa took a deep breath. “Damn. Could I talk you out of taking this one to Christian’s and letting me take it home instead?”
“You want one?” Mazey walked to the fridge and pulled the door open. “I’ve got extra cherry and apple pies.”
Alyssa blinked. Once. Twice. Then burst out laughing.
“I don’t see what’s funny . . .”
“Marry me,” Alyssa begged. “I’ll spend every minute of every day worshiping you, my baking goddess.”
“Um, yeah, I think you’re missing one required element to that proposal.”
“A penis?”
“No!” Mazey laughed. “A ring!”
“Oh. Right.”
“And a penis.”
“You’re not into . . . ?”
“Are you?”
“Ah, no. Sadly. If I was, I might not be suffering from a serious dry spell of sexy times. There’s a shortage of available men in my life.”
“You didn’t hit on Rylan when he started?”
Shit. Why did she ask that? It was none of her business if her friend had hooked up with the man. Mazey knew Alyssa preferred her sex string free, so it seemed obvious she’d have gone after Rylan. He oozed sex like a stripper with her legs wrapped around a pole.
She glanced at Alyssa to gauge her response to Mazey’s big mouth. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t ask even though she’d been thinking about it for over a week. “Never mind. Not my business.”
Alyssa eyed her. “You interested in that?”
“What?”
“Ry.”
“No. No, I just wondered, that’s all. You said there were no available men, but he’s available, right?”
Nodding, Alyssa hummed.
“Anyway, help me get these pies into that box there, and we can head out.”
“No.”
“What?” She looked over. “I thought you offered to help?”
“I mean no, I have not hit on Ry. There’s no interest on either side.”
“Really? But he’s hot as fuck.”
Alyssa smirked. “Is he now?”
“Well, yeah, you have to admit that, interest or not.” Mazey couldn’t understand why some woman hadn’t snapped him up and taken him off the market before now. Not only was he good looking but he was a gentleman too. Kind and friendly and genuinely interested in what you were saying.
“I think someone has an interest, but it isn’t me.”
“No. Nope. No way, no how. I’m not interested in any man. They’re too much trouble. They lie and cheat and try to control you.”
“Hmm . . .” Alyssa lifted a pie plate. “Well, yeah, some men are like that, but I don’t think Ry falls in that category. I’ve been working with him for six months, and with the way our group socializes I think I would have picked up on any flaws the man might have.”
“He does seem like a nice guy. Not that I’m interested in adding a man to my new life here in Sunnyville.”
“I think someone is protesting a little too much,” Alyssa said with a chuckle. “How are we putting all of these in here?”
Mazey pulled out a couple of plastic covers she had for splatter-proof microwaving and placed one over the first pie. “Now, we put the next one in and repeat.”
“Oh, clever. Are you sure you won’t marry me? You’re like the ultimate wife. I could do with one of those now that I’m in the middle of the teen years from hell.” Alyssa scowled at the apple pie in her hands. “The girl is in trouble up to her eyeballs, and yet she still pushes every button I have like she doesn’t care how much I come down on her head.”
“Want to talk about it? Maybe get a second opinion.” Not that Mazey knew anything about raising kids. Toddlers or teenagers.
“She’s fourteen and thinks she’s old enough to have sex.”
“Oh.” Yeah, no clue how to deal with that. “Does she have a boyfriend?”
“No, thank fuck, but goddamn it, she asked to go on the pill.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to have sex. Did you ask why?”
Alyssa looked dumbstruck for a few seconds before her face pulled into a disgusted crumple. “Well, fuck.”
“I take it you didn’t.”
“No. Crap. I know why she asked.” She placed the second pie into the box with care. “I’m an idiot.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“No, I am. I didn’t ask, I just jumped to the wrong conclusion and grounded her. It’s why she’s not here today.” Picking up the next pie, Alyssa asked, “You okay if we go by my place so I can talk to Penny?”
“Sure. Or I could drive myself to Christian’s.”
“No, wait. I’ve got a better idea.” She placed the pie in the box on top of the others, then tugged her phone out of the front pocket of her jeans and quickly tapped on the screen.
While Alyssa continued to message someone, probably Penny, Mazey padded the box by stuffing some folded hand towels in all the spaces around the tower of pies. “There. Nothing’s moving now,” she said with a triumphant smile.
“Okay, I’m going. I’ll see you there.” Alyssa headed for the front door. “He’ll be here to get you in five.”
“What? Who?” Mazey hustled after her friend. “Who’s coming in five?”
“Ry. He lives a couple of streets away. He’ll pick you up and bring you home. I’ll see you at Christian’s shortly. Well, I do have to go grovel to a teenager, so it might take a while.”
“Hey, what about”—the front door slammed shut—“your pie.”
Mazey had no idea how long she stood staring at her closed front door. It wasn’t until the sound of footsteps on the small timber porch broke the silence that she snapped out of it and realized she still needed to get changed.
Spinning on her bare heel, she’d taken a single step when the doorbell rang. “Damn it.” Glancing down at her pie splattered T-shirt and yoga shorts that put the short in shorts, she debated ignoring the bell and continuing to her room. When it rang a second time, followed by a couple of loud knocks, she sighed and turned back to the door.
“What you see is what you get,” she muttered. Opening the door, she plastered on her biggest smile and said, “Come in, take a s
eat. I’ll just be a second. I need to change.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. As fast as she could go without running, she headed for her bedroom. Leaving Rylan to come in or stand on the doorstep. Either worked. As long as she cleaned up before he got a good look at her, she didn’t care where he waited.
8
He was a dead man.
No, not dead. The hard-on in his pants proved his heart was still pumping blood.
Jeez, how did a woman barely over five feet have legs that long? Thank god Mercy-Life’s uniform pants didn’t show Mazey’s spectacular limbs as well as those . . .
What were those things clinging to her ass? Shorts? Panties?
Christ. Was she only wearing panties to answer the door?
And what was with the stuff all over her shirt. The one that did nothing to hide the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra!
His mouth watered, and he didn’t know if it was from seeing Mazey in what amounted to nothing or the smell assaulting his nostrils.
Pie.
He smelled pie.
She smelled like pie.
No. He took a deep breath. The house smelled like pie.
Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him and followed his nose. He found the source of the delicious aroma in a box on the kitchen counter.
He poked around a little.
Four. He counted four pies. And the scents in the air told him there was cherry, apple, and pumpkin in there. Were they mixed, or was it one of each and an extra?
Rylan was about to lift the plastic cover on the top of the pile of pies when Mazey came up beside him and slapped his hand away.
“Hands off. They’re for the barbecue.”
He whimpered. He loved pie.
“No touching. If you want some before we go, I can cut you a piece from one in the fridge.”
Okay, now he was going to cry. “There’s more pie?”
“Cherry or apple?”
“Is that a trick question?”
Laughing, Mazey pulled a knife from the block on the counter, a plate from the cupboard next to his leg, and then a pie from the fridge. “Cherry it is then.”
