Put Out (Kilgore Fire Book 5)(5)

By: Lani Lynn Vale


Today, instead of on his head, his KFD hat was in his hands as he nervously rolled the bill between them as he looked at his grandmother with concern.

He was wearing his usual firefighter uniform of blue tactical pants with pockets up and down the side. There was a thick white strip that likely was reflective down each side as well, skipping over the huge ass pockets that had the tools of his trade filling them.

His shirt was an extremely tight navy blue Kilgore Fire Department t-shirt with KFD on the breast pocket. That t-shirt was stretched tautly over his impressive chest and loose over his belly, which I knew for a fact hid an impressive abdomen.

It wasn’t an eight pack, but it was pretty darn close.

And oh, God. The chest hair on him was delicious. I’d seen Bowe without his shirt while he was working on his house flips. I wasn’t normally one to go for a hairy guy, but Bowe wasn’t so much hairy as he was manly. He had hair where he was supposed to have hair. On his chest, and a thin trail of hair that ran in a straight line down his belly.

“You had a stroke?” he asked, raising one hand to his face and rubbing his fingers down them as he tried to wipe away whatever horror he saw in front of his eyes.

His chiseled cheekbones and dark brown eyes looked absolutely devastated.

“What happened?” he asked.

The squawk of his radio had him absentmindedly reaching up to turn the radio off at his shoulder before looking at his grandmother with an impatient look.

“They think I had a stroke.”

He looked over to me, and physically jolted at the sight of me standing at his grandmother’s bedside.

“Angie,” he nodded his head politely, then turned back to his grandmother.

That one word had my heart pounding.

That deep voice, saying my name, was the absolute highlight of my shitty day.

“Why didn’t I get this call over the scanner?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

I bit my lip.

How anyone could stand up to that angry voice surprised me, but to see this little old lady do it was downright awe inspiring.

“You know how being in the back of one of those makes me feel!” Ruth yelled at her grandson. “It brings back bad memories!”

I turned back to Bowe, his gorgeous face set in devastation.

“I don’t care if you had a bad experience in an ambulance!” he yelled. “You threw up! Everyone throws up! I could’ve lost you!”

My heart clenched.

“Bowen,” Ruth murmured soothingly. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not!” he countered. “Your face is fucking paralyzed.”

“I don’t care how upset you are, Bowen. Don’t use those ugly words in front of me.” She pointed a gnarled finger at him again.

Bowe threw his hands up.

“Where’s your doctor?”

The door to the room opened and another firefighter strolled in, this one being PD.

“Temper, temper.”

Bowe gave PD a look that could peel paint, and I covered up my smile by gathering my supplies and shoving them back into the basket that I pushed around as I visited all of my patients.

“I’m going to go, Ruth,” I told her. “If you need anything, like help to the bathroom or to move to the chair, just press your button, okay?”

Ruth smiled happily at me, only one side of her mouth working, and I took that as my cue to leave.

I zipped out of the small space between the bed and the cabinet, then promptly slammed it into Bowe’s foot.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

His eyes caught mine, and I had to tear my eyes away from his beautiful brown ones or I’d throw myself at him to try to comfort him.

And lord knew he didn’t need me doing that to him right now.

He needed me to get the fuck out, so that’s what I did.

I hurriedly exited the room, but came to a sudden halt to find the entire hallway lined with Bowe’s fellow firefighters.

“Uhh,” I said. “Hello.”

The lot of them smiled at me.

“Hello.”

I waved at them and hurried away before they expected me to talk, and headed straight for the nurses’ station.

“Dr. Pollock,” I called the minute my ass passed into medical personnel domain. “Ruth Tannenbaum, in room 1530, has family there that wants to speak with you.”

Dr. Pollock got up from where he was sitting and went to grab Ruth’s chart.

“Thanks,” he dismissed me as the lowly peon I was.

I rolled my eyes and started to gather my things. “I’m taking my lunch.”

The charge nurse bobbed her head.

“Fine,” she said. “Going to run?”

I nodded.

I usually used my lunch hour to work out, because lord knew if I didn’t work out then, then I wouldn’t do it when I got home.

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