Dare She Date Again?

Cameron had crashed his ambulance, a mistake that made no sense. So the physicians had investigated why he’d reversed into an empty building and it was then they’d found the tumor. Car accidents made her think back to that awful moment when their lives had changed forever.

While the rest of the team talked about what to do next, Samantha’s gaze rested on George through the chaos. She focused on him. He was calm, dealing with victims in an expeditious manner. It was like the rest of the noise, smoke and shouts were drowned out as she watched him. He worked like he was a machine.

They’d worked together at first, but where a new paramedic would have needed guidance, George had known exactly what he was doing.

So she’d let him work on his own. In all her years of mentoring and teaching she knew when to step in and when to step back, and this was one of those moments.

He was down on one knee, patching up a head wound. It was probably an uncomfortable position with one knee on the pavement, but the older lady looked the worse for wear. He was talking to her and she was smiling, even though she was injured.

Even from this distance Samantha could see he was keeping the patient calm. The lady even smiled at him and that made Samantha grin.

Atavik had the touch. He may have been a bit stand-offish and serious with her, but he was good with the patients.

He was meant to be a paramedic.

It was a damn shame he wouldn’t move to Critical Care and get back in an aircraft. Though maybe by the end of the course they’d head up to Thunder Bay and perhaps he’d change his tune. She still planned to convince him that it was better in the air.

When you flew planes for as long as Atavik had, it got into your blood. You were born to fly.

George waved at her to signal he was ready for her. She wheeled the gurney over to him and he stood up as she approached.

“I think she’s the last one.” George turned to the patient. “You ready to get out of here, Mrs. Walker?”

“More than ready, Georgie boy.”

Samantha cocked an eyebrow. Georgie boy?

George just grinned at Mrs. Walker as he got her to her feet and sitting on the gurney. “We’re going to get you loaded up and off to the hospital.”

Samantha and George worked to get Mrs. Walker over to the next departing ambulance as theirs was blocked in by a police cruiser.

Once Mrs. Walker was loaded and the door was shut George slammed on the back to signal to the driver it was okay to leave.

They stepped back as ambulance headed up the newly cleared wrong side of the highway toward the hospital.

The fire crew was waving people away from the tanker, which was beginning to smoke.

“We have to clear out of here. The tanker is unstable,” Samantha said.

“I think that’s—” The words died in George’s throat as a woman let out a gut-wrenching scream. The kind Samantha recognized. The pain of a mother.

“My baby!”

Samantha swung her head to see a little girl, a toddler, running up the highway to the smoking tanker, the firefighters oblivious to her.

The mother was screeching the girl’s name but was unable to move because of being strapped to a gurney and getting ready to be transported.

George took one look at the girl and went running.

Samantha reached out to grab him, but her fingertips just brushed George’s shirt as he ran through the protesting firefighters and police toward the tanker and the little girl.

“Atavik, get your ass back here!” Samantha shouted, starting after him, but the moment she got close a firefighter grabbed her and held her back.

“Whoa, you can’t go.”

“I have to. He’s my partner. My stupid partner.” Samantha pointed in the direction of George.

The firefighter spun round. “He’s an idiot.”

Samantha’s heart was in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears, as she was forced away and back.

In situations like this, things really did move in slow motion.

She watched as he ran toward the tanker, which burst into flames, knocking the little girl back. He scooped up the terrified girl and started running back to safety as firefighters with hoses ran toward him and then past him to tackle the roaring fire engulfing the remains of the tanker.

He held the little girl against his chest, one protective arm around her head, holding her close as he ran past the fray, like a football player holding a ball tight and streaking towards the end zone.

Samantha’s pulse rate eased and she pushed the firefighter away as George made his way toward her. He was panting and there was soot on his face and his arm looked burned.

“You’re burned.”

“I know.” George moved toward, not caring as he delivered the sobbing little girl to her mother.

“Thank you. Oh, God. Thank you.” The mother clung to her child, sobbing. “Thank you.”

George grinned, nodded and patted the blonde girl’s head as she gripped her mother tight.

As two other paramedics wheeled the woman away George groaned and glanced at his arm, cursing under his breath.

Samantha just crossed her arms and glared at him. “Well, looks like we have another patient to take to the hospital. Get in the ambulance, Atavik.”

George winced as the ER doctor slathered his burn and then wrapped it.

“You’re quite a hero, I hear,” she said, as she wrapped his wound. “You’re lucky that this wound wasn’t more serious.”

George winced and then shrugged. “You would’ve done the same.”

His gaze landed on Samantha, who was out in the hall, pacing, angrily. He could tell. He’d seen Charlotte pace just like that.

There was a police officer standing with her, taking notes.

Shoot.

He hoped he wasn’t in trouble and on his first day. He didn’t want to get booted out of the course. Trainees weren’t supposed to do stuff like running toward an exploding tanker. Then another person entered the pantomime and George rolled his eyes.

Good. God.

“George!” Quinn came into the trauma room.

The ER doctor turned and looked. “Family member?”

“Yeah, brother-in-law.”

“Only physicians are allowed beyond this point,” she said, putting herself between him and Quinn.

“I’m a doctor. Dr. Quinn Devlyn.” Quinn pushed past her.

“Devlyn,” George said.

“I heard what you did.” Quinn shook his head and dragged his hand through his hair. “How am I going to explain that to Charlotte and Mentlana?”

“Don’t?” George was confused.

“Too late.”

“How the heck did you hear about it? Did my partner call you? Because, dude, no offense but you’re not my emergency contact.”

Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose. “You made the national news, you dolt. That’s how I found out.”

Damn.

“National news?” George rubbed his eyes with his good hand. “I’m in trouble.”

“You are that. Charlotte’s already called me three times and told me to get to the hospital and kick you in the butt, but also to kiss you. Just so we’re clear, I’m not doing that!”

George chuckled. “I appreciate it.”

Quinn sighed. “She doesn’t want Liv growing up without her uncle.”

George chuckled. “Would she prefer it if I dressed in bubble wrap on duty?”

“Your sisters worry about you,” Quinn said. “Your partner looks a bit miffed, though.”

George glanced over Quinn’s shoulder at Samantha, who was openly glaring at him again.

Double damn.

“When are you flying back up to Nunavut?” George asked.

“Tomorrow—why?”

“I may be joining you.” George moved his bandaged arm and winced.

“Was it a bad burn?” Quinn looked at Dr. Inkpen.

“No, not too bad.” She wrote the discharge information. “Take ibuprofen for the pain and just keep it clean and dry. I trust you know what you’re doing, George.”

George took the paper she handed to him.

“Thanks, Doctor.”

George tucked the discharge sheet into his pocket and climbed out of the chair they’d had him seated on while they’d examined his arm.

“She was cute,” Quinn remarked, nudging him in the ribs.

“Dude, are you trying to set me up now?”

Quinn grinned, but then he sobered. “We all worry about you. It’s been a year.”

George sighed.

He was painfully aware it had been a year.

He knew, because it was burned into his brain as freshly as the day it had happened.

“I don’t really want to think about that now.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. How about you buy me a drink before you leave?”

“You don’t drink.”

George snorted. “I feel like taking it up.”

“Well, then, you’re in luck. I think there are plenty of people who want to buy you a drink tonight!”

As George stepped into the hall he was met by a round of applause from paramedics, police and firefighters.

It was overwhelming. He hadn’t done anything all that spectacular. All he’d done had been to save a life.

Like all of them were taught to do.

George grinned, but it was forced and he hoped no one noticed as he shook countless hands. He didn’t like all the attention.

CHAPTER THREE

I SHOULDN’T BE HERE.

That was what Samantha kept telling herself, but somehow she got finagled into going to O’Shea’s Pub after George was released from the hospital.

Some of the other paramedics were buying him drinks as was that physician, George’s brother-in-law or something, and they were monopolizing his time.

Really, George should be at home getting rest.

You’re not his mother.

So she tagged along with the rest of the team to the pub, where George had everyone’s attention.

I should go home.

Although Adam was still with her in-laws and wasn’t due home for three more hours.

I should go home. Only it was lonely at home and even after ten years on her own the nights were long and unending.

Sleep didn’t come to her easily.

She ordered another whiskey sour and stared up at the television mounted on the wall, watching a replay of what had happened that day.

She hadn’t been aware that there had been press there but, then, she’d been focused on getting the injured to the hospital.

“I’ll have another iced tea.”

Samantha glanced to the side and saw George had come up beside her. “Iced tea?”

George shrugged. “I don’t drink and even if I did I shouldn’t be anyway, not after my burn.”

She was impressed. “Where is your physician brother-in-law?”

“Quinn? He went back to his hotel. He has an early flight back to Iqaluit.” George thanked the bartender and tried to slip him a five-dollar bill.

“Nah, man. It’s on the house,” the barkeeper said.

“Thanks, bro.” George took the seat next to Samantha. “Are you still angry enough to kick me out of the program?”

“No.” She chuckled.

George grinned and took a sip of his drink. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t have done the same thing?”

He was right. If George hadn’t been around and she’d seen that little girl running to the tanker she would’ve run headlong into the fray and that thought made her feel extremely guilty, because of Adam.

He was already down a father; she couldn’t take risks like George or other people.

Adam was her main priority.

And she was kind of jealous of George’s freedom.

“I would’ve.” Samantha took another sip of her whiskey sour. “I’m sorry, you deserve the accolades and I’m sorry that I was so hard on you.”

George snorted and then frowned. “I don’t deserve the accolades. It’s part of the job. I’m no hero. Far from it.”

Samantha cocked an eyebrow and studied George. There was a change. He tensed. She could sense he was haunted, conflicted and she couldn’t help but wonder about the reason he was so dead set against flying. What was he hiding under that exterior?

Tread carefully, Samantha.

She didn’t have time to date or pursue anyone. Not only was she a single mother with a demanding job but she was about to leave town for good. She couldn’t let herself get interested in George. He was off limits and, besides, she didn’t want to risk her heart. Loving and losing was something she never wanted to experience again.

“How do you like London so far?” she asked, changing the subject.

“It’s big.”

Samantha smiled. “I guess compared to Iqaluit it would be.”

“Things are cheaper.”

“What a strange thing to say.”

George laughed; she liked the sound of it when he did. “So what’s cheaper?”

“Toilet paper,” he said. “That stuff is like gold when it’s shipped up to Iqaluit, but here you can walk into a store and it won’t cost you your firstborn.”

Samantha laughed. “Are you really having a conversation with me about toilet paper?”

The twinkle appeared back in his dark eyes. “I guess I am.”

Samantha smiled and fiddled with the swizzle stick in her drink. “I’ve never had a guy approach me in a bar to talk about the price of toilet paper.”

“There’s a first for everything.”

“I guess there is.” Her pulse quickened.

Don’t flirt. Don’t flirt.

What was it about guys like George that made her hot under the collar? Cameron had been a bit of a rogue too.

Guys like George threw her plan completely out of whack. It drove her crazy, but she also saw the challenge and that was exciting.

“So, should we talk about coupon-clipping next?” George waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner and she laughed uncontrollably.

A belly laugh that made her sides hurt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this.

George was dangerous. So very dangerous.

“You have a really nice smile when you genuinely smile,” George said, and then he cleared his throat, his smile fading. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

The simple compliment made the butterflies in her stomach flutter and a bit of heat flare in her cheeks. “It’s okay and thanks.”

She was attracted to him.

This is going to end badly.

The last thing she needed to be doing was checking out a man. Especially when that particular man was off limits.

She was his mentor.

I don’t have time to date, she reminded herself again. She was leaving for Thunder Bay. Any relationship would be temporary and with a son she couldn’t have a temporary romance. She wouldn’t subject Adam to that.

And it wasn’t just Adam. She didn’t want a temporary romance. It was too risky for her heart.

She really needed to get out of there.

“Is something wrong?” George asked.

“No, why would you ask that?”

“The expression on your face.”

“Yeah, it was one heck of a day.”

George stopped smiling as he took a sip of his iced tea.

I’ve got to get out of here.

“Well, I’d better head home.” She downed the rest of her whiskey sour and stood up.

“How are you getting home?”

“Bus,” Samantha said. “I live in the south end.”

“Let me walk you out.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said, and he said it in a way that brooked no argument.

As they headed to the door someone called out, “You leaving already, Atavik?”

George turned. “No, just walking Doxtator out and then I’ll be back!”

Samantha groaned inwardly. Now they were the center of attention. She should just tell George to stay, but she doubted he would listen to her. Since he’d been assigned to her, he hadn’t listened to her.

He was determined and his hand rested gently against the small of her back as he walked her up the stairs to street level.

It was May and the sun was starting to sink in the west and the lights were glowing as twilight crept across the city.

There was a warm breeze, but it wasn’t hot; it was refreshing.

“It’s hot out here,” said George. “I don’t think I’ll get used to the heat.”

Samantha grinned. “Just like I don’t think many of us would get used to your cold.”

George smiled, but, as ever, it faded quickly. “Are you sure you don’t want to stick around for a bit longer?”

“No, thank you. I need to get home.”

“Why?”

“Adam will be home soon.”

Then she saw the expression that passed across most men’s face when she mentioned Adam’s name. He was trying to process it and there was a flare of jealousy mixed with disappointment before he caught the range of emotions and hid them.

Who was Adam? was his first thought and his second was, Why should he care?

It wasn’t any of his business. A woman as beautiful as Samantha would, of course, have a husband or boyfriend. Besides, she was off limits—a fact he needed to keep reminding himself of.

He wasn’t interested. He wasn’t going to get involved with anyone again, it was too risky. Still, the green-eyed monster couldn’t help but rear its ugly little head. Samantha was beautiful, intriguing and he wished she wasn’t his mentor. He wished she was single, in a bar and he was just meeting her. Trying to pick her up.

But who was he kidding? Cheryl had killed that side of him. He had vowed never to love again, to never put his heart at risk. He’d promised himself that in the hospital. He was trying to keep from flirting with Samantha, but he couldn’t help himself.

“It’s okay to date again, George. You need to move on. You have a right to.”

Only he shook his sister Mentlana’s words out of his head. No. He didn’t deserve love again. He didn’t want it again.

Get a grip on yourself.

Why was he letting himself think like this? It was dumb. Sure, he was attracted to Samantha but that didn’t mean anything had to happen.

Except she was the first woman he’d been really attracted to since Cheryl.

They walked down the street to the empty bus stop.

“You have a training session tomorrow morning at seven sharp, and I’ll see you in the afternoon,” Samantha said. “Try to get that through to the other paramedics too.”

George laughed. “I will.”

Samantha stopped and jammed her hands in her pockets. “You can head back to O’Shea’s.”

George shook his head. “No, I think I’ll just wait here with you.” He was treading on dangerous ground but he couldn’t resist it.

Pink bloomed in her cheeks.

He cleared his throat and looked at her. She was so beautiful. He needed to get away. Fast.

Only he couldn’t move. He stayed there, standing close to her. Close enough to touch.

Run.

Only he didn’t run. Instead, he imagined what it would be like to kiss her. Her lips looked soft, moist and he wondered if they tasted as sweet as he imagined.

“I should go. You’re right. I’m sure your boyfriend Adam will be glad to see you’re home safe.”

Samantha still didn’t say anything—she didn’t have a chance as the bus pulled up and opened its doors. She climbed up the first step.

You’re an idiot, Atavik.

George waited for a word from her.

Anything.

Even “Scram” would suffice.

Instead, she smiled, the pink in her cheeks still shining. “I’m not involved with anyone. Adam is my son.”

And with that the doors of the bus closed with a hiss and George watched as it took off down the street.

He grinned, relieved to hear Adam was her son, but it didn’t last long. If there was a child there was a father.

She’s off limits.

He would keep his distance. That wasn’t what he wanted to do but it would be the best thing. He was here to learn, not date, and not fall in love with someone. He’d tried love once and it had nearly broken him.

He wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

CHAPTER FOUR

SAMANTHA HAD THOUGHT George was going to kiss her, but he hadn’t and she was both relieved and disappointed.

It had been a long time since she’d had a kiss. Though she didn’t know why she was allowing disappointment to gnaw at her. She’d only just met George and she was his mentor. Still, she couldn’t deny the spark he’d ignited inside her. A slow-burning ember making her feel giddy. It was a scary prospect indeed.

It had been the moment he’d come running down the highway, cradling that child, putting himself in danger to save that little girl.

That was it. It wasn’t attraction, it was a motherly instinct that played with her.

Nice try, Samantha.

When she’d married Cameron, she’d sworn to herself that he would be her first and her last. She just hadn’t expected their last kiss to come so soon.

She had been expecting fifty years or more.

Not the just the five they’d had.

It hadn’t been enough.

Then George had shown up, turning her world upside down, and she wished he’d kissed her. But that would not have been wise.

A year after Cameron had died his mother, Joyce, had told her that it was okay for her to move on. That she was too young to spend the rest of her life alone.

Samantha had been horrified by that prospect.

She hadn’t been able to even contemplate finding someone else or loving again.

Cameron had been gone ten years now. She thought about moving on, even though it was scary to let someone else in.

Samantha touched her lips, which still tingled in anticipation. The heady scent of his skin wrapped around her. He’d been so close and just thinking about what might’ve happened flustered her.

Get a grip on yourself. He has no interest in you. You’re delusional.

It was effect of the drinks she had still in her system. It was making her out of sorts. Yes, that was it. She was going to blame it on the alcohol, even though she hadn’t imbibed that much of it, but it was a good scapegoat.

She headed into the bathroom and turned on the cold water, splashing it against her face. Maybe she could wash it all away.

She cleaned her face and then undid her hair from the high ponytail, brushing it out so it wouldn’t get snarled.

Still, she couldn’t get George out of her mind, which was going to make it hard to be his mentor.

When Cameron’s parents brought Adam home they spoke to her and she made pleasantries, but she was sure she sounded like she was a zombie.

Yes. No. Uh-huh. And that was thanks to George.

They asked if she was okay several times and she finally told them she was just tired, that a large car crash on the highway had left her exhausted. They understood and left.

Adam, however, didn’t understand his mother’s distraction.

And she couldn’t blame him.

This was not how she usually acted. Being like this drove her crazy.

“What’s with you tonight, Mom?” Adam asked, giving her a wary look.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with me. Why would you ask?”

Adam shrugged. “You looked weird and zoned out.”

“I’m fine.”

Adam nodded, no longer interested. Why would he suspect that being in close proximity to a handsome man she had just met had apparently melted her brain into the consistency of fondue. Gooey, stringy fondue.

These feelings were old, but foreign and unwelcome.

It was bad timing.

“Hey, Mom, can I go over to Ameer’s house?”

“No,” she said to Adam. “You have to go to school tomorrow. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

The subject of bed distracted Adam, so much so that he didn’t question her trance-like state and she even forgot for a few moments as she wrestled her son into bed.

It was when the lights were out and she was lying in bed that the fantasy of a kiss come flooding back to her. Night-time was always hard on her anyway. The bed felt so empty even after all this time.