“Ryan?” My voice comes out as a croak.
He spins around, relief washing over his features as he approaches my bedside. “Hey there. How are you feeling?”
Wow, he’s handsome in the harsh light. His light brown hair has curled at his neck and looks damp still. He’s no longer wearing the thick jacket. His navy blue uniform shirt fits snugly to his muscled chest and arms.
I manage a weak smile. “Like I got hit by a truck. Oh wait, I hit a tree—that actually happened.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Your car did, but close enough.” He gestures to the female next to him. “This is Jiffy, one of our best EMTs. She’s been helping me keep an eye on you. You passed out.”
Jiffy’s dark hair has streaks of gray. She smiles warmly. “I’m glad you’re awake. You had us worried there for a bit.”
“With names like ‘Jiffy’ and ‘Ryan,’ should I start calling you my Fast and Friendly Rescue Team?”
Ryan grins with his hands on his hips, while Jiffy’s laugh ricochets off the curtains. “Absolutely, sweetheart! I like that better than the references to peanut butter.”
“Thanks for the rescue and for staying with me,” I say, touched at how kind they are. “Talk about white glove service.” I cough, the roughness of my throat scratching at my voice.
Jiffy hands me a paper cup with water.
Ryan leans closer, his brow furrowed. “Let me get the doctor.”
As if on cue, a man in a white coat enters the curtained-off room with a tablet in hand. “Miss Harper, good to see you awake. I’m Dr. Patel. How are you feeling?”
“So… I’m not dreaming. Though waking up to find my hot rescuer still here? Very rom-com of you, Captain.” Jiffy laughs again before leaving. Dr. Patel is flashing a light in my eyes, unimpressed with my deflective humor. I continue, “A bit groggy, but otherwise okay. My head is a little fuzzy.”
Dr. Patel nods, continuing to check my vitals. “You have a mild concussion, which is to be expected given the nature of your accident. You needed a couple of stitches in the hairline on your forehead. However, your blood sugar levels were quite low. Have you eaten today?”
I bite my lip, trying to remember. “I might have skipped breakfast. And lunch. I was in a few meetings and running errands today on my way into town. I had plans for dinner with friends, but didn’t make it with the accident…”
The doctor gives me a stern look. “Well, that certainly didn’t help matters. We’ll get you some solid food shortly. You’re getting fluids through your IV. I want to keep you here overnight. You’ll be released in the morning if everything stays the same.”
Just then, my friend Nicole Blevins bursts into the room in a bright-colored wave with Rhett, her husband, trailing behind her. “Ember! Oh my gosh, are you okay? We came as soon as we heard.”
I blink in surprise. “How did you know I was here?”
Ryan clears his throat. “Nic kept calling your phone… I know Nic, so I answered it.”
“I’m so glad he did.” Nic replies, before smiling at him.
Rhett shakes hands with Ryan, both doing the bro nod.
Nic is at my bedside. “We knew something had happened when you didn’t show up for dinner. This damn storm—I kept texting and calling—thankfully, Ryan answered.”
“If I had known getting rescued by a firefighter came with this kind of fanfare, I would have crashed long ago,” I quip.
“You know, you could’ve picked a less dramatic way to meet someone. Next time, let’s stick to coffee and awkward small talk, okay?” Ryan says.
My heart skips a beat. “Only coffee, then?”
“So, dinner, then.” Ryan laughs. His warm brown eyes never leave mine. “Let me grab your number. Is that okay?”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” I spy my phone with my purse on the small table beside me.
His lips pull to the side, his brown eyes sparkling. “Well, you did say I was your soul mate. Let’s try dinner first.”
Oh my god, I didn’t say that, did I?
My face flushes with heat and the pounding behind my temples intensifies.
