Page 7 of Call Out
“Is everything okay?” I peer around the door and holler down the hall.
GG barks intermittently and then goes quiet. Perhaps it's a new delivery driver. I shrug it off. Dot obviously has it covered. I place the teapot and cups onto a coral tray. Then I grab a single double chocolate chip cookie from the jar and set it on a napkin.
For some reason, the biker guy speeds back into my thoughts again.Has he ever tried tea, or is he a coffee connoisseur?That yummy man has been racing in and out of my mind ever since he patched up my knees under the sinking sun.Should I really call him biker guy now?Technically, he’s a paramedic with magic hands and a caring disposition. Which means I can transfer him onto a better list. A more Nonna respected list.
Surely his career is worthy of pleasing her, regardless of biker leathers and a hotter than sin helmet?Helmets aren’t hot––are they?I fan my face with a wad of paper napkins. A powerful swell mounts between my thighs, compelling me to grab onto the counter and let it tingle over my skin like a naughty lullaby. Well, this is new. I’m morphing into a sex-crazed Jezebel.
When we had a second brief encounter, albeit while Wini was being carted off on a stretcher, the nagging voice of distrust tugged me away from the temptation in his amber eyes.
Then I sat by her bedside during hospital visiting hours like a meerkat, secretly hoping he would stroll past, or I’d bump into him on my way out. Unfortunately, fate had other plans and he never appeared.
I guess I let my swan paddle away.Ugh! He’s not my swan.I shake off the absurd fantasy and nudge a shoulder into the door, carrying the tray into the corridor.
Dashing Danny has a certain ring to it, or Medic Man. Hmm, neither of those names do him justice. He’s the epitome of tall, dark, handsome, with a devilish guardian-like persona. Dangerous Danny is a mediocre option.
“Why was GG going off?” I ask Mr. Roberts, who huddles my pug close to his chest.
“Wini has a visitor.” He waggles his brows. “Our little Greta Garbo deserves a treat for being such an excellent guard dog.”
I bought GG a week after Nonna died. My life was empty and a cute puppy was a distraction I needed. Turns out, she’s loyal to anyone who feeds her. I often wonder if she’s more Mr. Roberts’s dog than mine.
GG licks his chin the instant he mentions a treat. “A visitor?” My nose wrinkles. “She doesn't have any family.”
“A young man. He brought a bunch of flowers.”
“Weird.”
Mr. Roberts helps me with the door and then disappears into the kitchen with his companion wedged under his arm.
A deep masculine rumble reverberates from behind Wini’s door. If I’m not mistaken, that delightful tone of sexual enticement sounds just like Dangerous Danny. My skin prickles out of intrigue. I let out a growl of despair.This silly obsession is out of control.
I lower the handle with my elbow and back into the room. “Tea is ready!” I sing, revolving around to face Wini.
Fiery eyes lock onto my parted lips. The china cups rattle. A large hand reaches out. My heart rate takes off. It’s him. All height and muscle. Rich chocolate textured hair and teeth—teeth so white they dazzle me dumbstruck.
“Here she is now.” Wini claps her hands once. “Danny, this is Vivian Swann, my darling friend.”
“Let me get that for you.” His brow creases when porcelain continues to tinkle.
“Viv, is everything okay?” Wini’s voice is distant as Danny pries the tray from my curled fingers, rounds the foot of the bed and places it on the coffee table by the window.
Jet black jeans display long lean legs, and the biker jacket I wore briefly, once upon a time, makes a familiar squeak when he bends his arms.
Nodding a few times, I swallow down the shock. “Do you two know each other—like are you friends?” I dart a glance between the two of them.
Wini taps the book cover on her lap. The slow beat makes fun of my galloping heart. “Danny brought me home in the ambulance yesterday. We had a chat on the ride home, that’s all.”
“You brought her home as well?” I can’t look anywhere else, other than a powerful jaw sprinkled with a days’ worth of stubble and thick black lashes. As they bat, his eyelids close for a millisecond at a time. I imagine he’s taking multiple pictures of my face because his inquisitive gaze equally mimics my own.
“I sat in the back of the ambulance with her,” he replies in a casual tone. I'm imagining this moment. The paramedic is checking on his patient, not ogling me.
“Oh, right. Why are you here now?” My arms cross over my chest. “I didn’t realize the service was extended after hours.”
Wini clears her throat. “Viv, honey, you’re interrogating the poor man. How about that cup of tea?” My gaze slides to her raised brows and bright grin.
I am. I was. I’m openly gawking while being my usual suspicious self.
“Sorry.” I smile tightly. “I’ll put those flowers into the vase with my chrysthan-na-ma-jums.” My neck flames when the word jumbles out of my mouth with disobedience.
