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Cohen and Corey snort as London’s date shakes his head and holds out his hand to me.“Dr.Brock Bateman.”His gaze softens when he looks over at London, who's still holding on to me.Then again, I haven’t exactly let her go either—probably because part of me is worried she might crumple into a giggling heap on the floor.“London’s the one who called me perfect.”
I drop my gaze back to London’s glazed eyes.She’s toasted.Lifting my hand, I sweep a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, her body melting into mine with a sigh as my skin skims across hers.God, I like that.
“Did you drive your car here, beautiful?”
“Mm-hmm ...”she says, resting her cheek against my chest as her fingers toy with my jacket.I grin down at her before glancing over to gauge Perfect Brock’s reaction to his date—mygirl—being all over me.Instead of annoyance though, I see amusement written all over his face.What the hell?
Confused more than I was before, and ignoring the weird relief I’m feeling inside my chest as my blood pressure regulates itself, I focus back on Lonnie.“Why don’t you let me call you a taxi to take you home and I’ll take care of getting your car to you in the morning?”
Her body stiffens and she straightens, stepping away from me like she’s suddenly come back into herself.“Nope.Perfect Brock can drive me home.”She staggers backward until the man of the hour steadies her with his hands on her hips, right where mine used to be.That pressure valve in my head chimes wildly.
“Lonnie,” I say softly despite my body being wound tighter than a well-coiled water hose.
“It’s all right, Luca.I’m not in the business of taking advantage of intoxicated women,” Brock replies, a new edge to his voice as his eyes sharpen on mine.“And consideringyou’rethe reason she started drinking after we’d finished dinner, I think you might give me this courtesy.Iamher date, after all ...”
Motherfucker’s got balls on him.That’s for sure.Wait ...she got drunk because of me?
My confusion must be written all over my face but before I can say anything else, London spins on her heels and gazes up at Brock, looking at him like he’s her savior.Looking at him the same way she usually looks at you, a little voice whispers in my head.
“Perfect Brock, can you please take me home now?I’m not feeling well.”
I close the distance between us, not even thinking about the fact that London is now wedged between me and the other man.“Beautiful, you gonna be sick?”
She turns her head my way, her eyes widening just seconds before she opens her mouth and spews all down the front of me with a startled cry.
“Holy shit!”I say, jumping back far too late.“Jesus.”
Cohen, who has been standing there watching the whole scene go down while Corey treats the patient, barks out a laugh but soon clamps his mouth shut when my head snaps his way.He grabs a towel from the back of the bus and holds it out to me.“You might want this,” he says, his lips twitching.
“Oh my God, Luc,” London gasps, but as I look back, her horrified expression morphs into one of amusement.She starts with a snicker, then giggles before she just straight-out cackles raucously.EvenPerfect Brockjoins in.Fuck my life.
After wiping as much of the sickeningly strong-smelling puke from my gear as I can, I strip off my jacket, leaving me in my blue CFD T-shirt and my turnouts.I survey my boots and screw up my nose.They’re definitely going to need a good hose out when we get back to the firehouse.The guys are gonnalovedriving back with me in the truck.
As if reading my mind, Marco’s sharp whistle cuts through the air, letting me know we’re rolling out.
With Londonstillhanging off her damn doctor date, I close my eyes and resign myself to the fact that I can’t make sure she gets home safely myself.That means I’m gonna have to trust this damn perfect doctor of hers to look after her.Why does that irk me?
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I reach out to cup her shoulder and get her attention.
“I’m sorry, Luc,” she whispers, sobering slightly.“I didn’t mean to do ...that.”She scrunches her nose up in that cute way of hers that always—usually—makes me smile, waving her hand in the direction of my thighs.
“Bet you didn’t, beautiful.”I shoot her a smirk because damn, that puppy-dog expression of hers does me in every single time.“It’s only my gear.It’s used to getting dirty.”
Her eyes flash withheat,but that's just the flirty drunk coming out in her.She's a happy, giggly flirty drinker—usually very touchy-feely too.Just thinking about her being like that with adatedoesn't sit well with me.Maybe the date was horrible and she had to drink to make the night bearable ...
I look her date up and down.He's like an Abercrombie & Fitch model with a definite Ivy League frat boy feel about him.Why would she wanna date someone likethat?My London deserves a good, hard-working man who’ll give her the world and treat her like a queen.And definitely a man who’d need the approval of me and the rest of the crew at Firehouse 101.
“Where do you work?”I growl, ignoring London’s giggle and Cohen’s smothered laugh.
“Northwestern.”
“What are you?An intern?”
“Ortho resident, if you must know,” he replies defensively.I study him, sizing him up and trying to get a good read on the guy as I decide whether he's trustworthy enough to take care of my girl.
“And you're sure you can get her home safely?”
His expression turns serious.“Abso-fucking-lutely.Look, I get you're protective of your friend—”
