three men in combat boots, wearing dark blue uniforms with FIRE written in bright yellow across the front, surrounded me. The whirring sound of a helicopter sounded from above.
“How we doing, miss?”
“Never better.”
I brushed my blond hair out of my eyes to glance up at the guy nearest me. My eyes widened as his full magnificence fell over me like a ray of heavenly light.
Because, of course, I meet a guy who looks like the mold for the perfect man while I’m helpless and covered in mud.
Holy hell, this guy. At least six feet and three inches of sculpted muscle towered over me. A square jawline, cheekbones that could cut glass, beautiful dark eyes, lush brown hair… And the entire package wrapped in a uniform that announced I save lives for a living.
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
The guy blinked. “Come again?”
“Nothing. Uh, hi. Yes, I’m your problem child today.”
“Name?”
“Faith Benson. And you are?”
The EMT didn’t answer but squatted in front of my mud-splattered legs to examine my ankle. “Move your toes for me?”
I did as he said—ordered, really. He had a gruff voice, rough and low.
He laid two fingers on the top of my foot, feeling for a pulse. “These shoes aren’t appropriate for this trail.”
“I’m painfully aware.”
His eyes were dark as he rose from his crouch. “If I had a dollar for every tourist who traipsed in here without preparation…”
“You have a lovely bedside manner,” I said, ignoring how this guy’s uniform shirt clung to his chest in a way that made my ovaries stand up and take notice. “And you don’t look native, by the way, so maybe cool it on the dumb tourist talk? This hurts like a son of a bitch.”
He grunted in response and turned to his fellow EMTs. They powwowed for a moment about what to do with me. The whirring helicopter came into sight again—a red bug that flitted across the blue sky.
“Okay, time to get you out,” a second guy said.
“How?” I asked.
My EMT pointed a finger upward.
“That helicopter?” I shook my head. “Oh no, no, no. That’s not necessary.”
“We have to evacuate you from the area, ma’am—”
“Yes, please, but a helicopter? That’s ridiculously dramatic, don’t you think?”
Just the sort of drama I was trying to erase from my life.
Silas will never let me hear the end of this.
“It’s necessary for your safety and to ensure your ankle isn’t further injured.” The second guy turned to my new friend. “Ash, you ready?”
“Ready, Cap.”
So the Hottest EMT in the World is named Ash. Makes sense. He sets panties on fire.
Apparently, the pain in my ankle didn’t stop the inappropriate thoughts. Typically, I let them fly out of my mouth, but I managed to restrain myself that morning.
“Your name is Ash?”
“Asher. Only the guys call me Ash.”
“What do the girls call you?”
What name do they scream in your bed?
He smirked. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, as Asher and the captain started to move to either side of me to lift me up. “Can’t you just piggyback me out?”
“For two miles?” Asher’s brows furrowed. “And on whose back?”
“You look more than capable.”
“As fun as that sounds, we’re using the chopper.”
“How are you going to land a helicopter on a waterfall?”
“We’re not,” Asher said. “Ready?”
Asher and the captain stood on either side of me, and I hooked my arms around their brawny shoulders. Gently, they lifted me. My ankle complained and I bit back a small whimper as they carefully picked their way over the dry rocks that fronted the waterfall and found an outcropping to sit me on.
Mortified, I waited while the EMTs talked into walkie talkies. Hikers gathered around, taking photos of me, the chopper, and the casket-shaped basket that was slowly making its way down on a cord, a guy in an orange uniform and white helmet coming down with it.
“You’re going to put me in that?”
“Don’t worry,” Asher said, crouching beside me to splint my foot. “Roy is the best in the business.”
My glance darted to the basket, the cables, and the dinky-looking helicopter hovering hundreds of yards in the air above us. I looked back to see Asher’s granite expression had softened a little.
“Is there someone I can call?” he asked.
“Question of the hour,” I said, willing the tears back.
I don’t cry. I never cried. I was allergic to being emotional, but suddenly I felt so helpless and stranded on an island thousands of miles away from anyone I knew, about to dangle in the