A Partner for the Paramedic: A Fuller Family Novel (Brush Creek Brides Book 11)

by Liz Isaacson

  She stared into her own eyes, a brighter blue than Jazzy’s, usually only noticeable if the two stood side-by-side, as they were now. Options ran through her mind, and she couldn’t settle on one.

  “Maybe we just try it,” Jazzy suggested, her voice little more than a whisper. “Ed is very good-looking too.”

  Fabi cared less about looks and more about the charge between her and her date. And she’d felt something between her and Max—maybe just a small zing—at the park. Hadn’t she? It had been so long ago, she wasn’t sure.

  “I haven’t heard from Max at all,” Fabi said. “How did you arrange all of this?”

  “I told him I got a new phone that very afternoon.”

  “Jazzy.” Fabi didn’t mean for her voice to come out as a whine.

  “I can name the last ten men you’ve been out with,” Jazzy said. “In fact, I had to put Max off until tonight because you went out with Ronald Anniston last night. Last night, Fabi, you had yet another date with another man.” Jazzy’s whole body was animated now, and Fabi squirmed under the weight of her sky-blue gaze.

  “Good thing that flu was only a twenty-four-hour thing,” Fabi offered feebly.

  Jazzy didn’t flinch, but gazed unwaveringly at her sister. “Can you even name one man I’ve been out with in the past—let’s say a year. I’ll give you a year to name someone I’ve been out with.”

  Fabi met her sister’s eyes, so full of challenge and fire, already wilted. “Do you have a picture of Ed?”

  Chapter Four

  Jazzy was just as nervous on her second date with Max as she had been on the first. This time, her anxiety was borne from an entirely different reason. Guilt squirmed through her that she was lying to him, because she really did like him. If their relationship were to go somewhere, she’d have to tell him. She couldn’t be Fabi forever. Could she?

  Of course not, she told herself as the doorbell rang. Fabi twisted from where she was putting the breakfast bowls into the dishwasher, barely a glance at the door. She’d been picked up so many times, it was probably second-nature to her to take a few extra seconds to finish her chore.

  Then she washed her hands. Then she smoothed down the long pieces of hair framing her face and practically flounced over to the door. She opened it about two feet, not nearly enough for Jazzy to see who stood in the hall, and said, “Well, hello, boys,” in a tone that made Jazzy cringe.

  She was supposed to be the flirty one. She hurried forward and said, “Jazzy,” in a very stern voice.

  Fabi looked at her with widening eyes. “Oh—” The rest of her sentence came out in a squeak.

  Jazzy looked at Max—big, broad, and beautiful—standing in the hall, covering his baldness with a ball cap, wearing a gray T-shirt that said “Suck it up, Buttercup,” and a delicious pair of dark jeans. He’d brought along the cowboy boots again, and he made Jazzy want to be as country as possible.

  Beside him stood the dark-haired, bearded, in-the-flesh version of the picture Max had sent her that morning. Ed had a square jaw and full lips, and ebony eyes that seemed to be devouring both Fabi and Jazzy.

  “I’m Fabi,” Jazzy said, extending her hand to Ed. “You must be Max’s bus partner.”

  Max choke-laughed.

  “Hey, I tried.” Jazzy giggled with a shrug. “It does sound cooler when you say it.”

  “Bus partner.” Max gestured to Ed, standing there in brown loafers, a pressed pair of khaki pants, and a blue striped polo. “Ed Moon. Fabi.” He switched his gaze to the actual Fabi. “And her twin sister, Jazzy.”

  Both men volleyed their gazes between the twins, something both Fabi and Jazzy were used to after twenty-seven years of it.

  “My eyes are darker,” Fabi said, giving them a way to tell them apart. She scanned Jazzy’s blue, teal, red, and yellow striped dress. “And I would never wear stripes.”

  Max blinked and then looked at Ed’s shirt. “Bad choice, buddy.”

  Fabi physically startled, and Jazzy started laughing. This was much more than a giggle, but she couldn’t help herself. Fabi was always the one in charge, the one making the quips, the one drawing all the male eyes. It was actually refreshing to see her struggle a little bit.

  Her face filled with a flush. “I mean—” she stammered, finally pressing her lips closed and looking at Jazzy with helplessness in her darker blue eyes.

  “She likes stripes fine,” Jazzy said. “Just not on her. Thinks they make her look fat.” She whispered the last word and reached for her purse on the table by the door. Fabi wore a little black dress tonight, her usually fare for a weekend date. She owned so many little black dresses, Jazzy had stopped counting at eight. In fact, this ribbed, textured outfit was new.

  “Some of us like color.” Jazzy flashed Ed a smile as she joined the men in the hall. “I think your shirt is great.”

  “I do too,” Fabi said, stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind her. “Really, I do.”

  Jazzy caught Ed’s quick nod, his playful smile, before she moved with Max as they went first down the hall to the steps. Electricity crackled between her and Max, and a blip of a thought beat through her.

  Tell him. Tell him.

  You can’t tell him. You can’t tell him.

  She’d literally just let him introduce her to his best friend as Fabi. Her stomach jumped all over the place, creating a well of anxiety that no amount of buttered popcorn would be able to soothe.

  Behind her, Fabi made small talk with the ease of breathing, but Jazzy literally could not think of a single thing to say. During her date on Thursday, she’d managed just fine, and she hoped she hadn’t used up all available conversation topics in one night.

  “What do you guys do if a call comes in?” she asked as he held open the door for her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’re both off tonight. What if an emergency call comes in?”

  “There are eight paramedics in Brush Creek,” Ed answered. “We rotate shifts and have some days off.”

  “So you won’t have to run out of the movie.” Jazzy smiled at Max’s best friend. She could see why the men got along so well. Their eyes met for a moment and Max grinned.

  “Depends on if it’s a big accident or not.”

  “Do we get a lot of big accidents?” Fabi asked. “I can’t even remember the last time I even heard a siren in town.”

  “Sure,” Ed said, guiding Fabi around to the back of a white sedan. “The big accidents happen on the highway between here and Vernal.”

  “He’s right,” Max said. “I’ve seen them lots of times when I drive back and forth.”

  “Max is from Vernal,” Jazzy said. Fabi nodded and ducked into the backseat. She got in the car too, and Max closed her door. The air was stuffy, hot from the early June sunlight shining through the windows. It smelled like fabricated air freshener, and Jazzy spotted the orange tree around the gear shift.

  The two men walked around the front of the car, taking their sweet time. Which was just fine with Jazzy, because it gave her enough time to say, “We have to tell them,” to Fabi.

  “How do you propose to do that?” her sister asked.

  Jazzy flipped down the sunshade and opened the mirror, pretending to check her lip gloss. Really, she met her sister’s eye. “Maybe you’ll break up with Ed tomorrow, but I like Max.”

  “Fine.” Fabi folded her arms and gave Jazzy a death glare. “Tell him.”

  The door opened in the next instant, and the men slid into their seats. “Are we ready?” Max asked, cutting a glance at Jazzy. He almost looked away, but then focused his eyes on hers. “You okay?”

  She half nodded and half shook her head no. She wasn’t sure how she felt, and she couldn’t get any words to cross her vocal chords anyway.

  In the back seat, Ed said something about chicken sandwiches, and Fabi’s shrill voice exclaiming her love of the criss-cross fries that came with the meal silenced anything Jazzy might’ve blurted. Max held her gaze for ano
ther moment before Ed tapped his shoulder and said, “We have time to eat, right?”

  “Sure.” Max chuckled and pulled out of the apartment parking lot.

  Fabi was exceptional at small talk, and asking questions, and Jazzy let her fill the car with chatter and laughter. No wonder she always enjoyed her first dates. She liked talking about herself and she liked asking other people about themselves.

  Though they only drove maybe a mile to Chicken House, by the time Jazzy got out of the car, the silence was welcome. Max caught her eye, and a silent understanding passed between them, along with another zip of that attraction that had her heart bobbing in the back of her throat.

  “So are you as excited about these chicken sandwiches as I am?” he asked as he met her at the front of the car. He tossed a sarcastic smirk to Ed.

  “Hey,” his friend said. “I’ve seen you eat three in one sitting.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” Max shifted his feet, and Jazzy thought it absolutely was true. She turned toward the front of the fast food restaurant that did make killer chicken sandwiches. She loved the mustard-mayo combination that was just the right amount of tangy against the hot, fried chicken.

  The evening held the summer heat, and the temperature took a severe upswing when Max brushed her fingers with his. A breath of touch. There, then gone. She jerked her attention toward him, caught his shy smile, and tried to contain her giddiness when he slipped his hand into hers on the next step.

  Jazzy seriously could not remember the last time she’d held hands with a man. Especially one as good-looking, charming, and kind-hearted as Max. He asked her about Kyler, because she’d told him a couple of days ago that her brother had been sick.

  She could barely remember her own name, but she managed to answer with, “I took him some soup last night. He seemed a little better.”

  “Dahlia’s out on a case, right?”

  “That’s right.” Jazzy paused behind Fabi and Ed, who seemed to be listening to their conversation. “Kyler seemed grateful for the company.”

  “Dahlia’s good people,” Ed said. “We’ve worked with her on cases before.”

  “Oh?” Jazzy glanced at him and found his focus on her and Max’s joined hands. Fabi’s gaze fell there too, and a squeak of surprise escaped her lips. Jazzy lifted her chin, daring her sister to make another noise. “Why would you work with a detective?”

  “If they want medical records, interviews, patient awareness during transport. That kind of stuff.” Ed stepped forward, and Max squeezed her hand when they didn’t have more attention on them.

  She met his eye and squeezed back. He didn’t seem like the type to date-and-dump, and a tingle of joy tangled with Jazzy’s other emotions inside. She’d have to tell him who she really was eventually, but for now, he seemed to only have eyes for her and that sure was nice.

  Ed had known his buddy had really enjoyed himself with Fabi Fuller on Thursday night. The way his phone had chimed incessantly on Friday had been the tip of the iceberg. Because now Max was holding hands with her, right there in Chicken House, where anyone could see them.

  Max never was one to be too public with his affections. Irina had squashed that right out of him, then left town before the divorce papers had even been served. Ed had only been in town for a couple of months when it all went down, and it was like headline news for a few weeks until the drama shifted to something else.

  In fact, Max hadn’t dated much at all in the five years since his first marriage ended. But he seemed to really like Fabi, and the way she crowded close to him in her bright green heels testified that she liked him too.

  Ed cast a glance at Jazzy. She was gorgeous, no doubt about that. Quieter than he’d expected, though he knew the fun, flirty twin currently held hands with his best friend. Ed didn’t mind the more subdued blonde, and the fact that she ordered her chicken sandwich with extra pickles only endeared her more to him.

  “Extra pickles, huh?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah. I love pickles.” She flashed him a smile full of straight, white teeth. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those men who doesn’t like pickles on hamburgers.”

  “They do tend to take over the whole sandwich.” He looked at the cashier and put in his own order. “Two chicken sandwiches with extra pickles and criss-cross fries with frozen lemonade.”

  He grinned at her as he stepped to her side so Max and Fabi could order. “But I like ‘em just fine.”

  “My brothers won’t eat them,” she said. “Kyler throws a fit about warm pickles.” She giggled, a pretty little sound that wormed its way into Ed’s heart.

  “My sister is pretty picky too,” he said.

  “How many siblings do you have?” Jazzy asked.

  “Just Maggie,” he said. “She’s why I moved here. Her husband got hurt, and they needed help.”

  “Maggie Wainwright?”

  Ed met those darker blue eyes and had to coach himself not to dive in too soon. “Yeah. You know her?”

  “Of course I know her,” she said. “She works for us in a pinch.”

  “Who does?” Fabi asked, having placed her order.

  “Maggie.” Jazzy thumbed her finger at Ed. “That’s his sister.” She gave him a full-on smile that only said flirt. “If I’d have known she had a handsome, available older brother, I would’ve pried a bit more into her life.”

  “Oh, so I’m handsome now? The stripes don’t repulse you?” He grinned as he spoke, glad when she tipped her head back and laughed. She had a slender neck Ed wanted to touch with his lips, and he cleared his throat, his grin fading fast.

  What kind of thought was that?

  Inappropriate, he told himself. He barely knew this woman, and he wouldn’t operate on purely physical attraction. Not again. Not anymore.

  Their food came quickly, as it always did at Chicken House, and Ed let Max take the lead while he tried to figure out what kind of spark there was between him and Jazzy.

  Because it was definitely there. Hot and spiraling, almost like those ground flower fireworks Maggie’s girls loved so much. He met her eye, and Jazzy ducked her head, the longer pieces of her hair falling between them.

  Feeling brave and bold, Ed reached up and pushed them back. He balanced their food in one hand while everything around them fell away. Her dark blue eyes molded to his dark brown ones, and he saw more there than she probably wanted to admit.

  He dropped his hand and slid into the booth beside Max, who had fixed him with a cautious look. “Don’t feel like you need to wolf it down,” he said. “But we do need to leave for the movies in twenty minutes.”

  “Can we get popcorn there?” Fabi asked.

  “After dinner?” Jazzy asked her sister, her eyebrows high. She plucked one criss-cross fry form her cardboard container and bit off a tiny piece. Ed really didn’t want her to be the kind of woman who didn’t eat on dates.

  “Sure,” Max said at the same time Fabi said, “It’s not a movie if there’s no popcorn,” and shrugged.

  Ed was definitely in Fabi’s camp on this one, but he still managed to eat all of his food. Jazzy, thankfully, did too. They arrived at the theater and joined the line to get their popcorn with extra butter, making it to their seats just as the previews started.

  Ed relaxed in the dark. For some reason, he felt very much under the microscope with Jazzy. She was smart, obviously, and funny, and so pretty it almost hurt to look at her. Why Ed had never seen her before he wasn’t entirely sure. The Fullers were a well-known family in Brush Creek, and surely the twins had been at most of the social events in town.

  The movie started, and not ten minutes had gone by before Jazzy lifted the armrest between them. “Do you mind?” she whispered.

  Ed certainly did not mind. He lifted his arm over her shoulders as she cuddled into his side, sighing as if cradled against his chest was exactly where she wanted to be. He felt like someone had poured jumping beans into his blood, and he worked to keep from twitching.

  J
azzy smelled like tropical fruit and sunshine, both items Ed needed more in his life. If the rumors he’d heard since yesterday could be trusted, she didn’t date nearly as much as her sister. But she certainly didn’t seem out of practice.

  It was Fabi who was supposedly forward, but Jazzy had practically climbed into his lap within an hour of meeting him. A smile curved his lips. He liked this woman and the gentle pressure of her body against his. Now, he couldn’t say if he liked the movie or not, because he barely watched a minute of it after Jazzy snuggled in to his side. And somehow, it was the best money he’d ever spent.

  Chapter Five

  Fabi knew she shouldn’t have lifted the arm rest between her and Ed. Jazzy had given her a wide-eyed glare that she’d deserved. At the same time, she couldn’t help it. Ed obviously spent a lot of time in the gym when he wasn’t riding shotgun in the ambulance. He smelled like soap and something woodsy, and Fabi had no defense against a man who smelled as good as he did.

  He obviously hadn’t minded either, if the way his fingers traced an unknown pattern on her upper arm was any indication.

  At home now, she stared up at the ceiling above her bed, wondering how she could tell him who she really was. Because though she’d only been out with him once, they’d exchanged phone numbers and he’d finally stopped texting her about ten minutes ago.

  Jazzy had fallen asleep at least an hour ago, and Fabi stared into the dark silence, knowing that she wanted to keep dating Ed the same way Jazzy wanted to go out with Max again.

  She closed her eyes, her fantasies of tracing her fingers down his jaw, his beard tickling her skin, bringing a smile to her face. She hadn’t kissed a man with a beard in a while.

  “And you’re not kissing him for weeks,” she whispered to herself. Instantly, an internal war began, but the rational part of Fabi argued against rushing into things, scaring Ed off, and causing undue problems for herself.