Shock - Marie Johnston Page 0,1
my mom calls the Baywatch Bounce walking up to a scene. And I don’t wear a lick of makeup. Stroke patients don’t care if I have mascara on or not. After the way I grew up, it’s freeing and I love it.
“Really? Like, never? You’re gorgeous.”
I relax. She’s not going to shoot the messenger, and I’ll take a compliment from a woman any day over a dude. She wants in Ford’s pants, not mine. “Thanks, but I have my own baggage. It’s why we work so well together.” I give a smile before glancing at my watch. “Oh, crap, I gotta go.”
I rush through checkout and fly to the ambulance garage. Ford’s in a huddle with the two guys on the outgoing shift of the ambulance we’re assigned to.
Ford lifts his vivid blue gaze from the conversation and grins. “Wescott. You’re late.”
I give him a mock glare. I’m five minutes early and he knows it. It’s just not as early as I usually am.
I swagger toward the group and hit them all where it hurts. A woman’s period. “I had to stop for some lady plugs. You want to do it for me next time?”
His brows pop. “You’re a lady?”
Mitch’s grunt shakes his fledgling gut. He jokes about putting on the pounds with his wife while they were expecting their second kid—who’s ten now—but the paramedic could still haul a stair chair down eight flights on his own if he was allowed to.
His partner, Arnesh, an EMT like me, clears his throat and looks around the plain garage bay like he wishes he was anywhere else but here, discussing the periods of someone he knows. He’s a rookie like me, but I’m a few years older.
“Relax, Arnesh. Ford here is insecure because I have bigger muscles than him.”
Ford scoffs. “In your mouth, maybe.”
Mitch’s eyes go wide, no doubt worried about a harassment charge based on proximity.
Ford throws his hands up. “Totally not what I meant.”
I laugh and pat his shockingly hard shoulder. “I know, and you’d never know anyway.” Since Arnesh pales like he’s going to faint, I spin the conversation back around to work. “Anything new?”
“Nah,” Mitch answers. “It’s been a pretty mellow day. But now people are gearing up for Saturday night stupid. It’s going to be busy.”
The guy has a sixth sense when it comes to the chaos level of the workday. If he says it’s going to be busy, it usually is.
“But nothing like next week will be,” Arnesh interjects and gives us an ominous stare. “It’s a full moon.”
We all groan, but then Ford and I share a triumphant look. The last full moon that landed on a weekend was one of the most memorable of my career. Three seizure calls, a guy wandering the street buck naked and bleeding from his nose with a blood alcohol limit over point three, and a five-car pileup on the interstate that had us working until nearly our next scheduled shift.
And we’re off next weekend.
Mitch catches the exchange. “Aw, you fuckers. You’re not working? Want some extra hours?”
“I have to do my nails,” I deadpan. I don’t wear polish and I don’t care what length I’m allowed on the job, they’re always trimmed short. Not suffering another manicure is one of the perks of moving away from San Francisco. I might still polish my toenails, but these guys will never see me outside of my Under Armour boots.
Ford grins. “I have a date.”
“Yeah,” Mitch rumbles. “When don’t you have a date?” He juts his chin up at Arnesh and they head to the break area, where they’ll grab their belongings and leave.
I start for the rig. “Speaking of dates, I ran across one of yours in the store. I gave her your phone number.” When color leaches from his face, I can’t help chortling. I don’t let him suffer long. “Just kidding. I told her not to get her hopes up.”
“You’re the best.”
“As long as you remember that.” I stop with my foot on the first step into the patient compartment. “But what is that thing you do with your tongue that she was gushing about?”
His brows draw together. “Give them an orgasm?”
“Oh, so that’s why they all chase after you? There’s a serious lack of female orgasm-giving males in the world?” My own life has a serious lack of orgasms, thanks to my cheating ex. Whenever I try to get myself off, I hear the moans coming from my ex’s office last year.
“Apparently. It’s not like I’m