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"I'm asking you," she said, tossing the scrapper away so that she could cross her arms over her chest to intensify the effect of the glare.

"I-I don't think I should say," he said, licking his lips as he moved to step around her only to find his exit cut off.

"You can."

"I can't."

"I'll cry," she threatened, knowing she just might have to do the unthinkable and shed a few tears to make the big softie confess.

He narrowed his eyes on her. "You wouldn't."

Oh, but she would. Her bottom lip wasn't quivering ten seconds before Nathan broke down and confessed. An hour later she was sitting on the hood of her car, sipping a new milkshake and contemplating manslaughter.

Chapter 15

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this relieved that a shift was over, but he was. When dispatch dismissed him after holding him over for five hours he damn near kissed the ground in thanks.

Wincing when the muscles in his right shoulder protested in agony, he grabbed the two bags of takeout and shut his truck door. Thanks to Greg he'd f**ked up his shoulder when the little bastard lied about being able to lift a hundred and fifty pounds.

Then again it was possible that he'd been telling the truth and the patient simply startled the hell out of him when he started seizing on their stretcher. If it hadn't been for Brian, the paramedic that filled in for Joe, the stretcher would have tipped over, but thankfully the man jumped in and grabbed the stretcher and righted it just in the nick of time. It hadn't saved his shoulder though. It hurt like hell, but nothing some ice and rest wouldn't fix.

He had the next two days off and planned on spending them with Joe. He had a game plan to not only make her to forgive him, but one that would get the ball rolling on her starting to think about employment, safe employment, elsewhere. It would take time and a whole hell of a lot of charm, but he was pretty damn sure that he'd have her thinking it was a great idea before they started in on dessert. He just had to find the right moment to approach the subject.

"So, you want me to quit working on the ambulance, huh?" Joe asked casually as she stepped out of her house and leaned a hip against the small porch railing.

Apparently there was no time like the present.

"Do you think we can go inside and discuss this while we eat?" he asked, raising the bags of takeout.

"Sure," she said, shrugging and surprising the hell out of him.

He'd expected a fight, but he wasn't going to complain. He was too tired and hungry at the moment to question it. Without another word he followed her inside and placed the bags of food on the table.

"I'll be right back," he said around a yawn as he walked down the long hallway towards her bedroom. He could have used the guest bathroom, but he preferred hers.

On the way to her bathroom he grabbed a pair of his grey boxer briefs out of her bureau. He stripped out of his clothes and jumped in the shower, wishing he could take a nice long leisurely shower to work the strain out of his muscles, but he was starving and wanted to take advantage of Joe's receptive mood while he could.

Five minutes later he walked into Joe's kitchen, feeling slightly better. He just wanted to eat and get this conversation out of the way so that they could focus on her future. Joe was just starting to fill their plates when he walked past her on his way to the refrigerator.

He grabbed an ice pack for his shoulder and thought about grabbing a couple of beers, but he didn't want her to drink in case she took a painkiller. So instead he grabbed a couple of Cokes. He placed one by her plate and sat down across from her at the small round table.

Other than a murmured "Thank you" she didn't say much to him as they ate for which he was immensely relieved. He was so damn hungry. They had back to back calls all night and the only thing he'd eaten was a stale packet of peanuts he managed to wrestle from a vending machine.

"You want to tell me why you want to get rid of me?" Joe asked when he finished his third helping.

"I'm not trying to get rid of you, Joe," he said, feeling exhaustion threaten to knock him on his ass.

"That's what it sounded like to me," she said, leaning back in chair as she crossed her arms over her chest. "From what I hear you tried to unload me on Nathan." Her tone was friendly, but the look she was giving him was anything but.

Shit.

"This isn't the way I planned on doing this, but I've been thinking that maybe it was time for you to move on and do something else with the rest of your life," he explained. When she only sat there glaring at him he decided that perhaps he needed to explain the situation a little better before she decided to go for his balls.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat and feeling a little uncomfortable under her glare, "you know you couldn't do this forever." She cocked a brow at that little announcement so he added, "Could you really see yourself doing this job when you were fifty?"

"Yes," she said with absolutely no hesitation and made his job of convincing her to do something else more difficult. He decided to get rid of the bullshit pleasantries and get to the point.

"There's no way you'll be able to lift a grown man when you're fifty, Joe, and if you think so then you're crazy. Hell, you'll probably have problems doing it when you're forty. Besides that, Joe, you shouldn't have to do a job like this where you have to put your neck on the line and never really able to have a life because you never know if you're going to get out on time or have to pick up a shift," he said, noting the way her eyes narrowed dangerously on him.

"I have a life," she shot back defensively.

"Oh, really?" he asked, cocking a brow. "When's the last time you had a date?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging it off like it was nothing, "it doesn't mean anything."

"Uh huh, and when's the last time you got laid?" he asked, silently daring her to lie to him. He knew it had been at least a year and a half for her.

"It's none of your business!" she snapped as she visibly tensed in her seat.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, Joe," he said, pushing his plate away. "You don't date. You don't have much of a life outside of work. Hell, I can't remember the last time you turned down overtime. You're thirty, Joe, and if you keep this job you're going to be forty and lonely and wondering how the hell life passed you by. You need to find something else that's safe and will allow you to have a life. I was thinking that I could help with-"

"What about you?" she suddenly demanded, interrupting him and sounding pissed.

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