Breaking Protocol (Firehouse Fourteen Book 3) (18 page)

CC ignored the little jump of excitement and anticipation in her chest and just nodded. Nodded, and tried not to smile.

She was a hypocrite, a liar.

And she wondered exactly who she was lying to when she told herself she didn't need him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." Dave slammed the back door of the medic then walked around the front, slamming the passenger door after he climbed in. Jimmy got into the driver's seat and closed his own door then started the engine, shooting Dave a cautious look before he pulled away from the ER.

And wisely said nothing.

Dave was not fine. In fact, he was anything but. He was tired, pissed, frustrated. And impatient as hell.

Might as well throw in confused and irritated.

He hadn't been sleeping well the last week, not since getting back from South Carolina. He kept checking his phone, looking for text messages, afraid he'd miss something.

Kept wondering when the bastard was going to send him another message, kept waiting for it.

And nothing. Not since that message the night at the hospital. Dave had even sent replies, over and over.

I'm here now. Come get me.

Every single one had failed to send.

His patience was shot. His nerves were shot. At least he had something to keep his mind off things when he was working. Except when he had time to think, which was between every call. Hell, even sometimes on the call. Like now, when he snapped at Jimmy.

He just wanted it to end, didn't know how much longer he could go without snapping for real. Today was Tuesday, their first night in. What the hell was he going to do Thursday morning, when he had off for four days? Sit around and wait?

Not like he had much choice.

At least Angie was safe. She and Jay were staying at the Covey's house and from what he had been told, she was recovering well. Joyce and Ed were both spoiling her, and Jay never left her side.

Dave had to take Rob's word for it, because he was told not to call her.

Just in case.

So he didn't. Just in case.

And for as bad as all that was, he had convinced himself that he could handle it, because he knew CC would be right there with him. That had been Thursday afternoon, before everything started falling apart.

And he still had no idea what the hell was going on. Something had changed. He didn't know what. He didn't know why. He didn't know how. But he had a pretty good idea of when.

Right after he pinned CC to the bed and used her to forget, to comfort himself, to find comfort in her. After he tried losing himself in her.

No, he
had
lost himself in her. In more ways than one. He realized what he was feeling went beyond casual interest, beyond whatever informal relationship he had thought they had. Yeah, way beyond. And he had thought, would have sworn, that he had seen something similar in CC's eyes that afternoon.

Until he woke up that evening, and realized something had changed.

They talked, they hung out, she did her best to make him smile or even laugh, to keep his mind off things. And he lost himself in her each night, fell asleep with her body curled next to his.

But something had changed. She was there, but she wasn't, not like she had been. And every time he gazed at her, whenever he thought he saw emotion in her eyes, she'd blink or look away then smile and make some joke, deflecting whatever he had been about to say.

At least he could be grateful for the fact that he hadn't been a complete moron and told her he loved her, because wouldn't that have been perfect? He wasn't stupid, he knew what she was doing. Pulling away, at least emotionally.

Which meant she didn't feel the same way. Or she didn't want to feel the same way. At this point, he didn't know which was worse. And on top of everything else, he didn't think he could play emotional tag.

He didn't want to play emotional tag. He couldn't, not with everything else going on.

Which left him absolutely nowhere, with no idea what to do next.

And he wasn't sure how much longer he could deal with it. All of it.

The radio came to life, jarring him back to reality. "Dispatch to Medic 14."

Dave reached for the mike, brought it to his mouth. "Medic 14. Go."

"Medic 14. Respond 10-50 PI, possible rescue. 83 Northbound between Exits 20 and 21. Rescue assignment being dispatched. Reports of a car overturned. Do you copy, Medic 14?"

"Medic 14 copy. Responding." Dave tossed the mike back onto the console then reached above him and palmed the light switches. Jimmy hit the siren and did a sharp turn to change directions. His partner looked over at him, his gaze speculative, a grin on his face showing that damn dimple.

"What is it Jimmy?"

"Nothing. Just hoping that if it is a rescue, they let you at the car. Maybe you can take out whatever's up your ass on the car and be done with it."

"Bite me, Jimmy."

As it turned it, it was nothing more than a door pop with the patient complaining of neck and back pain. Followed by a call for chest pains, then another for a nose bleed. One call after another, so that by the time he pulled into his driveway the next morning, he was tired. Bone-weary tired.

Which hopefully meant he'd actually sleep.

He climbed out of the rental car with a groan then slammed the door shut. Dave had no idea where the car came from and didn't care. He only knew the damn thing was too small for his large frame and that he wanted his truck back.

Hell, he wanted his life back.

He let himself in the front door then frowned as stale air and silence greeted him. He dropped his bag in the living room then walked through to the kitchen, pausing only long enough to open windows as he went by them.

He opened the refrigerator, looking for something to drink, and frowned when he pulled out the milk. Six days past its expiration date, the gallon jug already had clumps floating in it. He made a face and put it back then scowled at the nearly empty shelves.

The refrigerator fairy had obviously failed to show since he had left last Monday. He shook his head and grabbed a beer from the bottom shelf, then twisted off the cap and walked over to the sliding doors leading out back. He tilted his head and took a long swallow, figuring what the hell. It wasn't like he was going anywhere except straight to sleep until it was time for his shift anyway.

The phone vibrated against his side and his heart kicked in the middle of his chest. He reached down, wondering if this was it, then released the breath he'd been holding when he saw CC's name on the screen.

"Hey."

"Hey Big Guy. Were you in the mood for breakfast? I can have it waiting for you when you get here."

He cringed at her bright voice, thinking it was too bright. Too forced. "Um, no, sorry. I'm already home."

There was a pause, followed by "Oh." Was it his imagination, or did she sound disappointed?

"We ran our asses off last night. I was just going to crash until it was time to go back in."

"Aww. Poor Big Guy. Guess you had to actually work, huh?" Her clear laugh came through the phone and he pictured her standing in her small kitchen, wearing baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt, leaning against the door as she looked out over the water. He wondered why he had even remotely thought she sounded disappointed.

"Yeah, guess so." He took a swallow of beer, his taste buds grimacing at the bitterness so early in the morning. "Maybe tomorrow?"

There was a slight pause before she laughed again, a little softer, a little shorter this time. "No can do, Big Guy. It's my turn to save lives tomorrow."

"Oh."

Silence stretched between them, moving to the awkward zone. Dave cleared his throat, searching for something to say. But then he heard CC's laughter again, maybe just a little forced.

"I think we've gotten spoiled this last week, huh? But I guess it's time real life intruded."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Another pause, then a small sigh. "It was, uh, weird last night. With you not being here."

Dave's hand tightened on the phone, his heart pausing for just a second. Was she trying to tell him something? Or was he reading too much into it? Before he could say anything, she laughed again, and whatever moment he had imagined being there passed.

"You get some sleep, Big Guy, and I'll call you tomorrow night. Sound good?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Tomorrow night." She didn't respond, and he realized she had already disconnected the call. He stared down at the blank screen then hooked the phone back in its clip before draining the beer.

"Fuck." He had no idea what that had been about it and he was too damn tired to try to figure it out. He tossed the empty bottle into the trash then walked back through the house, not even bothering to grab his bag before he went upstairs.

He needed sleep. Several hours of uninterrupted, deep sleep. Maybe then his mind would be sharp enough to figure out what the hell was going on, figure out what the hell he had to do to get his life back.

Maybe even figure out where he wanted his life to go.

The streets of Baltimore stretched out below them, square blocks lining up in neat little rows. The blocks thinned out, turning to industry along the water to the south, or spreading into larger residential areas to the north. CC adjusted her sunglasses and looked to the right, following the harbor out to the Key Bridge, then further out to the bay. Tony maneuvered the helicopter toward the east, back to the barracks. CC pulled her gaze from the water, back down to the streets below them, her eyes scanning, always moving, always looking.

She much preferred viewing the streets from this angle, no doubt about it. She loved the way the neighborhoods were lined up, loved the way the city stretched out, turning into the county. The landscape changed so quickly, from urban to suburban, to rural country up north.

She turned her head to the left but couldn't quite see the rolling hills of the north county. Then she realized what she was doing and rolled her eyes, almost laughing.

Almost.

Tony looked over at her, his eyes hidden behind the mirrored lenses of his aviator sunglasses, but the question was no less clear on his face. He was silently asking her what she was doing. She waved her hand in his direction, brushing him off.

There was no way she was going to answer him, not up here where she had to shout, despite the headsets and microphones. She wasn't going to answer him when they got back to the barracks either, no matter how much he pestered her.

And he had been pestering her. A lot. Wanting to know what was wrong with her, why she was so quiet, what was going on.

Yeah, right. Like she was going to tell him that she was pretty sure she screwed everything up. She had a hard enough time admitting that to herself.

Because she hadn't seen Dave since he left her house for work Tuesday afternoon. Four days had gone by and she had barely spoken to him, each conversation strained, awkward. And every time it seemed like he was going to ask her what was wrong, every time it seemed like he was about to get serious about something, she brushed him off. Or worse, laughed, like everything was just one big happy picnic.

She did it because she told herself he needed the laughter, didn't need anything serious, not with everything else going on. He was worried about his sister, worried about getting another text message. Worried that he hadn't heard anything since that morning in the hospital.

Yeah, that's what she told herself. Because she was so mature and self-sacrificing that way. Of course she was.

She laughed to herself, an absolutely humorless sound. What she was, was miserable. She missed him, plain and simple. Missed his gruffness, missed his tenderness. Missed the contradiction of the man himself.

And she really missed having him beside her at night, missed waking up next to him in the morning. Bubby was right, she was an idiot. Worse, she was afraid her father was right, and that she was a coward.

Because only a coward would refuse to admit they loved someone.

But she wasn't sure what to do about it. No, actually, she was. She needed to call Dave, to talk to him. Tell him how she felt. But what if she was wrong, and he didn't feel the same way? He didn't need the distraction or the strain that would put on him.

Yeah, she could pretty much talk herself out of anything if she wanted to. She was doing just that right now.

"Calling Carolann Covey. Reality to Carolann Covey. Come in."

"What?" Annoyance was clear in her voice as she turned toward Tony. He looked at her then nodded out the windshield, and she realized they were back at the barracks, that they had landed already.

"Yeah, okay." And she was never going to live this one down. She yanked off her headset and undid her harness as Tony powered the helicopter down. They ran through systems checks, pulled equipment and paperwork, got everything prepared for the next flight.

Then she grabbed her clipboard and made a beeline for the office, hoping to avoid any questions. Tony's laughter followed her, letting her know she couldn't avoid him forever.

She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator then sat at the table, trying to focus on the reports in front of her. Which was pretty much like trying to get a two-year-old to sit still at a ballet. On her best days, she had trouble with reports. What made her think she'd actually be able to focus on them now?

Maybe she should call Dave now, ask him to meet later. Better yet, ask him to come over for dinner. They could throw some steaks on the grill, have some wine. Make up for four lost days of cuddle time.

Or maybe they could talk, and she could tell him how she really felt.

Making up for cuddle time sounded more promising.

For any of that to happen, though, she actually had to call him, not just sit there and think about calling him.

"I don't know whether to laugh at you, or smack you upside the head."

"What?" CC turned around, frowning as Tony walked into the room. He tossed her utility bag on the table in front of her then straddled one of the chairs, resting his arms along the back.

"You are completely out of it, walking around in a daze. It makes me wonder if being lovesick is an actual illness."

She narrowed her eyes at him, then curled her lip for added effect. "Haha, very funny. Wrong, but funny."

"Yeah, okay. If you say so." He snagged her water and took a sip, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him. "So is it that paramedic you've been seeing?"

"Is what who? And you couldn't get your own drink?" She grabbed the bottle out of his hand and made a show of wiping off the top.

"Is the object of this apparent lovesickness the paramedic you've been seeing?"

"I am not lovesick. I've just got a lot on my mind. And that's none of your business anyway."

"Yeah, if you say so."

"I say so." CC pushed her chair back with a squeak then stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go make a call."

Tony's chuckle followed her from the room and she wished there was a door she could slam, just to let him know she wasn't amused. She walked into the radio room then reached into her pants pocket for her phone. Except her pocket was empty. She patted each pocket of her jumpsuit, then went through them one by one. No phone. Dammit. Just what she needed.

She walked back into the break room, looking around the table and counters, the chairs, everywhere she could think of. Then she grabbed her utility bag and started digging through that.

Still no phone.

"What'd you lose this time?"

"My stupid phone. Have you seen it?"

"No. When was the last time you had it?"

"I don't remember." CC closed her eyes, thinking. She had it yesterday evening when she talked to Dave, she knew that much. Had she used it since then? No, she didn't think so. "Last night. I think."

Tony turned back to his own reports, shrugging. "Maybe you left it home."

"No, I'm pretty sure I brought it with me. At least, I thought I did." She frowned, mentally reviewing her steps from last night and this morning. She remembered tossing the phone on table of the porch room after talking to Dave last night. Went inside to eat then read. Bedtime…had she remembered to grab it this morning? She couldn't remember. She wasn't tied to her phone like most people and she didn't have her life on it like a lot of people. But she still tried to have it with her whenever she left the house. Usually.

"CC, you have been so distracted lately, it wouldn't surprise me if you found the thing in the refrigerator."

"I haven't been that bad."

Tony looked up, both eyebrows arched in what was clearly disbelief. "Did you check the chopper? Maybe it fell out. Or maybe it's in your car. Or maybe you left it at the hospital. Don't you have one of those find-your-phone app things?"

"No, I don't." Because she generally didn't worry about it that much. If she lost it again, she lost it again. It wouldn't be the first time. But she really needed it right now. She looked around the room once more, frowning. "I'll go look outside. It has to be around here somewhere."

She started walking out again then stopped in front of the refrigerator. Tony laughed when she opened the door and looked inside, so she grabbed a bottle of water and gave him a dirty look. "I was not looking for my phone. I had to get some more water, since you contaminated mine."

"Uh-huh, sure you did."

CC ignored him then spent the next hour looking everywhere for the damn phone. Maybe Tony had a point. She had been distracted. Or maybe she had just left the stupid thing sitting on the table again.

She called the hospital but nothing had been turned in. Yes, they'd call her if they found it. The thought crossed her mind that maybe she lost it on the actual call, when she had been helping the medic crew package the patient for transport. If that was the case, she may as well just chalk it up as lost for good, because there was no telling where it could be by now.

Then she wondered if she should take this as a sign. The only reason she had been looking for it was to call Dave, to ask him to meet, to talk, to tell him how she felt. Maybe the universe was using her lost phone as a not-so-subtle smack to her head, letting her know that wasn't a good idea.

Or maybe she was just so afraid of having that particular conversation that she was desperate to latch onto any excuse to get out of it.

"Still no luck?"

"Nope." CC flopped back into the chair and pulled the reports closer to her, determined to at least start them before going home.

"Just call the phone company and report it lost, then swing by on your way home and get a new one."

"Yeah, maybe. I want to make sure I didn't leave it at home first." Because wouldn't that be just her luck? She'd spend the small fortune to replace the phone, only to find hers sitting on the table out back, right where she left it.

Tony didn't say anything, just went back to his magazine, leaving her to work on her reports.

And convince herself this really wasn't a sign to
not
call Dave and talk to him.