Page 6 of Strike
“A firefighter?”
“No,” I replied, an image of the mystery man appearing in my mind’s eye. “Just a random guy. He…”
“Miss Winslow?” A nurse was standing at the foot of the bed. “You asked about the gentleman who assisted you at the scene?”
“Did you find him?” I asked, straightening up. “Is he here?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you were the only person brought in from the fire. No one else has asked about you.”
My heart sank like a ton of bricks, and I smiled weakly. “Oh, okay. Thanks anyway.”
“Maybe he wants to remain anonymous,” Macy offered as the nurse left us in peace.
“Maybe.”
“Are you feeling okay? Do you want to go home?” She fussed with my blankets. “I can ask if you like.”
Trying to hide my disappointment over the no-show of my mysterious stranger, I shrugged. “I guess. I really need a shower.”
“Good. I’ll be right back.” Macy flashed a smile and slipped through the curtain, a woman on a mission.
Left alone again, I worried the hem of the blanket. The way the fire had engulfed the shop had terrified me, and I knew I would dream of it when I finally fell asleep, but I couldn’t get the image of the man scooping me up out of my mind. It was like his ghost had clawed its way into my soul and lodged itself there.
He’d saved me and just walked away.
Just like that.
Scuffed boots. Chestnut eyes. Smoke and flame. The man smiled, his lips curving. My heart leapt, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I’ve got you.”
Waking with a start, I clutched the sheets and blinked the sleep away from my eyes. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks between the curtains, casting long lines over the polished floorboards in my bedroom.
Moaning, I forced my fingers through my unruly hair and fell back onto the pillow. Great, I’d almost died in a horrible fire, and now I was having sex dreams about a stranger. A hot, mysterious stranger who’d saved my life.
Why did he just walk away like that? Why did he save me then disappear? There was shy, and then there wasshy. It wasn’t like this was the latest superhero movie where the guy had some secret past he was trying to avenge with his flame retardant superpowers. Right?
Thinking about the firefighter who’d helped me at the scene, an idea began to take shape. Maybe he knew who my mysterious stranger was. Maybe he’d given the firefighter a name.
Rolling out of bed, I dragged myself into the shower and scrubbed my night of fitful sleep from my body. Then I dressed and grabbed my bag and keys from the hook on the back of my bedroom door.
Macy had left for work hours ago, leaving me to wallow in bed all morning, but now I was glad for the alone time. She would call me crazy for trying to track down my rescuer hours after having a near-death experience. She was adamant I shouldn’t worry about it and had convinced herself he wanted to remain anonymous. But that was Macy. Confrontation was not her middle name.
Outside, the sun was shining, and birds were singing, tweeting and screeching like lunatics, none the wiser of the inferno that had trapped me the night before.
I rode the tram to the fire station.
It was quiet when I approached, the roller doors were open, and a truck was parked inside. There were some empty spots, so I assumed everyone had gone out to another emergency. Moving closer, I could see the feet of someone working on the other side of the truck. Before I lost my nerve, I rounded the end of the massive beast and spotted a firefighter checking the equipment at the side of the vehicle. He was wearing a tight navy T-shirt and slacks, his feet shoved into a pair of black boots. He held a clipboard, his pen scratching across the paper.
“Excuse me,” I said, my voice coming out sounding like the squeak of a frightened mouse. “Hello?”
The man turned from his work, and when he saw me, a smile spread across his face. Like a cliché, he was extremely handsome. The clean-cut variety with his clean shave, styled hair, and wafts of cologne.
“Miss,” he began, his head tilting to the side. He seemed to recognize me, but I wasn’t sure. “You’re the woman from the shop fire last night? On Brunswick Street?”
I nodded. “The one and the same.”
He turned to face me fully, his smile widening into a grin. “I was the guy who gave you oxygen.”
