Flashback: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Rhian Cahill

  “Oh.” Was that relief or disappointment that filled her?

  “You were, however, sick. It’s why I’m still here. I didn’t want to leave you alone in case you threw up again.”

  Humiliation burst over her. Where was a sinkhole when she needed one?

  The last time she’d gotten drunk enough to be ill, it hadn’t been at all pretty. “Sick? How sick?”

  “Enough to require a hose down.” He grinned.

  Her gaze traveled over him. “I suppose that hose down included you.”

  “Yep. My stuff is in the dryer now.” He pushed off the wall, muscles bunching and flexing, making her heart race from something other than embarrassment. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

  “Ah, I’ll just . . .”

  “No rush. Take another shower if you want,” he said over his shoulder before his wide shoulders, and tight ass disappeared from view.

  Shower. Right. No. She’d leave that for after Rylan left.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled out the bottom drawer of her dresser and grabbed a shirt and yoga pants. He might be comfortable wandering around in his underwear, but she wasn’t. Constant criticism from Stuart had cured her of that long ago.

  Why was she still letting that man in her head?

  If she wanted to walk around in her underwear, she could. And she would.

  After Rylan went home.

  Grinning at her idiotic thoughts, she tugged on the pants but left the T-shirt on top of her dresser.

  There. Nothing wrong with wearing a tank top without a bra. It’s not like she had much real estate in the boob department anyway, they weren’t going to be swinging around attracting attention.

  Chin up, she exited her bedroom and went to find Rylan and the promised breakfast.

  The scent of frying bacon hit her nostrils before she stepped into the kitchen. There was a fresh mug of coffee on the counter and an empty plate ready for whatever Rylan was standing at the stove cooking. In his underwear. God, he was gorgeous. All long limbs and sleek muscles her hands and lips wanted to touch.

  She forced her gaze away, struggling to come up with something to say that wasn’t I’m not inebriated now. Rylan saved her from her hyped-up libido.

  “Take a seat. I’ve got eggs and bacon coming. Nothing beats a good greasy breakfast after a night of hard drinking.”

  Her stomach rolled, and she couldn’t decide if she felt ill or hungry. Only one way to find out. She’d have to take him at his word about the morning after. She wasn’t a complete stranger to overindulging in alcohol, but that was in her younger years when she could bounce out of bed as though she hadn’t loaded her system with what amounted to liquid poison.

  Then there was the other thing about morning afters she wasn’t used to. Hot men cooking her breakfast.

  “Drink your coffee. It’ll help,” Rylan said over his shoulder, a knowing smile curling his lips.

  Dropping her gaze, she stared at her mug. Damn it. She had to stop looking at him.

  Seconds later, he brought the frypan over and served her a plateful of bacon and eggs. And no, she didn’t notice the way his arms flexed as he dished up the meal.

  Distraction. She needed a distraction from the sexy, mostly naked man in her kitchen. Leaning forward, she took a sniff and decided her stomach wasn’t going to revolt. She actually felt hungry.

  “You’re not having any?” she asked picking up her fork.

  “No. I ate before you woke up.”

  “Oh?” She glanced at the clock on the wall and nearly choked. “It’s eleven?”

  “Yep.” Nodding, Rylan cradled a mug in his big hands and leaned against the counter by the sink. “You slept so long I kept checking on you to make sure you were breathing.”

  Warmth flooded her face, and it had nothing to do with the steam rising off her plate. “Ah, that’s . . . thank you.”

  His only response was a smile that said he knew all kinds of secrets.

  Mazey couldn’t work out if she was pleased or embarrassed he’d taken care of her—that she’d been in such a state he had to.

  And why had he?

  Because he thought he should or because he wanted to?

  They were friends. Friends at work and outside of it. Never mind that pesky little attraction she felt for him floating around her mind giving her all sorts of ideas. Especially with him on full display in front of her. Most of them she’d never follow through on. Well, not with Rylan anyway, using her vibrator as a substitute wasn’t out of the question.

  And now her face was on fire.

  She had to get him out of here.

  Pushing off the stool, she dodged around the counter and headed for the fridge. “You must have things to do. Places to be. Don’t let me keep you.”

  Flinging open the fridge door so hard it bounced back and crashed into her arm, she ignored the jolt and picked up the pie she’d made yesterday. Spinning, she shoved it toward him.

  “Here. Take this as a thank you for . . .” She shrugged. “Everything?”

  The next few minutes were a blur until she finally closed the door behind Rylan’s clothed back and pressed her forehead against the cold surface.

  How was she going to face him at work now?

  He’d seen her naked.

  She’d seen him.

  Okay, fine, they’d both been in their underwear, except a couple of thin strips of fabric didn’t count in this instance.

  “Shit.” She thumped her head against the door. “I’ll have to quit my job and move.”

  14

  Mazey was avoiding him.

  She had been since last weekend and his impromptu sleepover.

  Rylan grinned.

  The woman had been thinking about all kinds of things before he’d come clean and told her the truth.

  He’d thought about leaving her in the dark about their night together, stringing her along for a few days. Except he didn’t want her to think he’d lie about something like that even if it would have been in jest.

  “Hey.” Cochran slapped him on the back. “How’s it going?”

  Rylan straightened from his final lunge and faced his boss. “Is that a friendly or an official how’s it going inquiry?”

  “Both?” Cochran smiled. “Grayson gave you a final tick.”

  Rylan nodded.

  “I noticed you’re doing a lot of working out.” Cochran glanced down at the weights Rylan had been using before he’d switched to lunges. “Any problems I should know about?”

  “You’ve seen me do some form of exercise every shift.” Rylan laughed. “I’m good. Physically and mentally.”

  “No flashbacks?”

  “You mean nightmares? No. Nothing for months.”

  “Good. Good.” Cochran slapped his hands together. “Right. Well, I’m heading out. Fingers crossed you guys don’t get any calls tonight.”

  Rylan held up both hands, all fingers crossed, and thumbs twined together for good measure.

  Laughing, Cochran left the room without another word.

  After he’d gone, Rylan wondered if he’d be subjected to these types of inquiries forever. He hadn’t had a nightmare in almost six months. The last hadn’t even been about crashing his helicopter, it had been a car wreck involving him, Jake, and Renee. He was sure a psychologist would have a field day working out what that meant.

  He’d never been diagnosed with PTSD, and from everything he’d read, he didn’t have it. Hopefully, everyone would stop looking at him like he could still suffer from it after he hit the two-year mark on his crash anniversary. That was only a few months away. Sometimes it felt like it happened yesterday, and others, like today, it seemed a lifetime ago that his chopper had been shot down.

  Glancing around he took note of the others working out. It wasn’t like he was the only one who exercised every shift. They all did it. There wasn’t much to do between calls. Besides, exerting some energy kept them alert, ready for when the alarm sounded. Twenty-four hours dragged when
you had nothing to do.

  Those that weren’t getting in a workout now were either in the common room watching TV or reading or some other hobby they could bring to base with them. Hell, Jack knitted! Ry had to admit the guy was pretty good at it too. In fact, there was a bidding war for the sweater Jack was currently working on.

  If people weren’t in the common room, they’d be in the kitchen. It was Mazey’s night to cook, and the aromas of whatever she made usually drew a crowd. Rumor had it tonight there was pie.

  Which is what had prompted Rylan’s workout. He planned to have two pieces at the minimum. At this rate, he would be the size of a house. It had been four days since he’d seen her. She and Alyssa had switched out shifts, so on Monday when he’d shown up to work hoping to see Mazey, he’d ended up working with Alyssa instead.

  Four days since Mazey had shoved him out her door after he’d made her Sunday brunch with an apple pie in his hands.

  He’d seen the pie for what it was.

  A bribe and an apology.

  Not that he’d needed either.

  He didn’t plan to tell anyone she’d been sick, and he’d taken care of her, and she had nothing to be sorry for. She wasn’t the first or the last to get in that condition, and as far as he was concerned, friends took care of friends.

  “Hey!” Bex stuck her head through the doorway. “Dinner’s up.”

  You’d think someone had sounded the call alarm the way the room emptied. He shook his head. One thing they had all learned in the weeks since Mazey had joined the team was you didn’t muck around when she called dinner. If you did, there was a good chance you’d miss out.

  The woman could cook. Well enough that they never ordered takeout when it was her turn.

  She usually prepped whatever she’d planned at home, so from the minute she arrived at the base, tantalizing aromas made mouths water and stomachs grumble.

  When he got to the kitchen, there was some good-natured jostling going on between Bex and Jack. She pulled rank on him and grabbed the plate they were fighting over.

  “Here.” Rylan turned to find Mazey beside him, a plate in each hand. “I dished up some for you before calling everyone in. I know it’s your favorite.”

  He looked at the large slice of lasagna on the plate in her left hand and gave her a big grin. “Thanks.”

  She gave him a smile he couldn’t interpret then whispered, “I hid two slices of the apple pie I brought for dessert.”

  Grinning wider, he took the offered plate and nodded. He wanted to follow her to the table, sit beside her, except he had to take her avoidance of him for the last few days into account. She’d offered him an olive branch in the dished-up meal and secreted away pie, but he couldn’t be sure they were back to the relaxed friendship they’d had before he’d put her in the shower Saturday night.

  Instead of sitting by Mazey, he headed to the other end of the table and sat with Bex and Jack. They were still fighting. This time over the parmesan cheese. Because he couldn’t help it, he waited for a beat, then darted his hand over and grabbed the container away from them.

  “Hey!” Bex frowned at him.

  “Children. No squabbling at the table,” he reprimanded.

  Mazey, Devon, and Tate chuckled, and Rylan shot them a grin. When Mazey smiled back, he took it as a good sign. Maybe she’d felt a little awkward after Saturday night and Sunday morning, and that’s why she’d avoided him. God knows he hadn’t been sure how to handle the event. He still wasn’t positive the interaction hadn’t ruined the friendship they had been building.

  Rylan let the conversation flow around him while they ate. He added a word here and there, but for the most part, he enjoyed not only the delicious meal but also the relaxed relationships between his colleagues. They were a tight group due to spending twenty-four hours together every three days. There were six teams of three plus a few casual employees for times when they were stretched for manpower, but in general, the same two teams worked the same shift every time.

  Mercy-Life was a relatively small operation with just the two choppers and one plane. They weren’t the only medevac company in the area, there was also High-Life. Similar in size and function, although according to everyone employed here, nowhere near as good as Mercy.

  Rylan had met a few of High-Life’s employees and had to admit they appeared to be a cocky bunch. He’d heard their pilots liked to showboat in the air too. He was glad he’d ended up here when he’d applied for jobs all over the country. It could have gone either way. There had been an opening at both places when he’d sent out his resume, it was just lucky Mercy-Life got in with an offer first.

  “Hey, Maz, I cleaned my whole plate.” Jack held up a plate that looked licked clean. “Can I have pie now?” he asked with an exaggerated grin.

  “Sure. It’s in the oven, should be warm by now.”

  Every chair at the table besides his and Mazey’s scraped along the floor as en masse, they headed for the kitchen, whether they’d finished dinner or not.

  Laughing, Mazey said, “Guess they all want pie.”

  “Oh, yeah, but they’re running so Jack doesn’t eat it all like last time.”

  “I couldn’t believe he—”

  The call alarm blasted through the speakers placed in every room of the base. “Shit. That’s a full alert,” Rylan said as he stood.

  Stampeding feet thundered, the noise echoing off the walls as everyone made their way to the ready room to pull on their gear. Rylan chose to wear his flight pants all the time when on shift, but he needed to grab his jacket and helmet. He picked up both on the run as he listened to Devon yelling information as everyone did their job and headed for the choppers.

  “Collapsed deck at a winery. Multiple injuries. Services onsite. We’re evacing a six-year-old female with head and possible spinal injuries and a twenty-six-year-old female who is at approximately thirty-two weeks gestation, currently believed to be in premature labor. We’ll get more info about our patients on route. Bex, you take the six-year-old, Rylan the expectant mother, they want Mazey on her not Tate.”

  “How many weeks did he say she was?” Mazey asked as she jogged up beside him.

  “Thirty-two.”

  “That’s not good. We need to stop labor if that’s what’s happening,” she spoke more to herself than him as they climbed into the chopper and hooked up their headsets. “Hey, Devon, what are the woman’s injuries other than early-onset labor?” Mazey asked through their headsets.

  “I believe she’s currently impaled through the abdomen by a timber beam.” Devon’s concern rang in Rylan’s ears.

  “Fuck.”

  Rylan glanced at Mazey, although it wasn’t necessary since they could communicate through the coms. “What are you thinking?”

  “That we’ll be lucky if it’s only the mother who’s impaled.”

  Gritting his teeth, Rylan did his job. He and Devon raced through preflight checks, and they were off the ground less than three minutes after the alarm sounded.

  Now he just hoped they got to the woman and transported her in enough time to save her and her baby.

  15

  There was blood everywhere. It covered the patient, the gurney, the floor, as well as Mazey and the paramedic who accompanied them to the hospital.

  They’d been pumping in units since before the choppers arrived on scene, and if Mazey and her new bestie Levi couldn’t get the bleeding under control, it wouldn’t matter how much they put in her veins.

  And none of that dealt with their other problem.

  The woman was definitely in labor, and from Mazey’s assessment, she’d be delivering a baby in the next few minutes.

  “Go go go go!” she screamed into her headset the second the side door was secure. “What’s our ETA?”

  “Twenty, but I can do it in fifteen,” Rylan’s voice filled her ears.

  “Make it ten.” Fucking hell. It needed to be five. They needed an OR now. She ripped open more padding and packed it around
the timber spike still stuck through the woman’s torso. “Levi, get another bag of saline hooked up and grab more blood so we’re ready to go when that one drains.”

  “Her pressure’s dropping.”

  “Jeez,” she muttered. “You know what to do, do it. I’ll deal with our other patient who’s determined to make a hasty entrance into this chaos.”

  Mazey steeled herself against the emotions crowding in close. If she thought about the chances of this situation turning out like the last premature delivery she’d dealt with, she’d freeze up and be useless. This mother and baby needed her at the top of her game.

  “We’re changing destination,” Rylan said in her ear. “I’m redirecting to Golden Valley. They’re closer, and they have an obstetrics department and NICU that can handle this. We’ll be there in five.”

  Mazey didn’t have time to agree or disagree. The baby’s head was crowning, and they weren’t getting out of this delivery. “Goddamn it. I’ve got a head. Tell them we’re coming in with two patients. One condition unknown.” She didn’t want to consider whether the timber spear had hit the baby on the way through the mother’s body. The baby’s crown showed no damage, but that didn’t give Mazey any relief.

  Even being in active labor, the woman lay completely still. If it wasn’t for the blood pumping from around her wound Mazey would think she was—‍

  “I’m losing her,” Levi yelled.

  “Shit. My hands are full.” Could she free up one to help him? “What do you need?”

  “A miracle.”

  “Two,” she muttered as a perfectly formed baby boy slid into her hands. “We need two.”

  It had been a while since she’d done obstetrics, and the labor she’d been involved with on her last shift at Anaheim Memorial hadn’t gone well. They’d lost that baby, but the knowledge was there. She checked the cord wasn’t wrapped around the little guy’s neck then checked his airways when Rylan’s words broke her concentration.

  “Arriving in, three, two, one, down!”

  She felt the jolt of a rough landing and knew Rylan had brought them in hard out of necessity. Both side doors flung open, and a guy with a determined look in his eyes leaned in on her side.