Page 57 of Hot Response
“That could make it worse,” Cait explained in a calm, firm voice. “The ambulance is almost here and I’d rather wait until we can get you out of the car and get a better look at it, okay?”
Unless it was a paramedic unit responding, they’d probably wait until they got her to the hospital, Gavin thought.
“How are you doing, sir?” she asked the driver.
“I’m okay,” he said again. “Just take care of my wife.”
“Your wife is—don’t move your head, sir. Your wife is going to be fine. The fire department and the ambulance are pulling up now.”
The first face Gavin saw through the busted window was Jamie Kincaid’s. Scott’s wife leaned over to look in as an EMT took over for Cait. He was putting a proper collar on the passenger, but Gavin waited until he was given the signal before letting go of her head.
“Hey, Gavin. You want to climb out before we break out the hydraulics?”
“I’m not sure I can.”
But he made it through and stood back as Jamie’s crew moved in to cut open the car. Cait was talking to EMS and he was glad to see one of the guys was a paramedic because that thigh wound didn’t look good.
Then he saw the guy he’d told to go sit in his car. He’d gone back behind the truck, but he was standing on the other side of the bed, cell phone in hand and obviously taking a video.
Great. As tempting as it was to say something to the idiot, Gavin just turned his back on him. The last few years, bystanders filming accident and fire scenes had become par for the course and most of the guys ignored them. There had been one video they all watched, though, because the bystander had run it on fast-forward to funny cartoon music and they’d gotten a laugh out of it.
While Gavin was more than happy for them to hand responsibility of the scene over to the folks officially on the clock, it felt like forever before they were allowed to leave. There were reports to fill out and paperwork to do and explanations to give.
But finally, they were back in his truck and on their way back to his place. It was a quiet ride, with their hands clasped on the center console. The music was turned up and Cait sang along quietly. It was decompressing time and he was content to let her be.
“I should head home,” she said when he parked—miraculously within sight of her car. “But I don’t want to.”
“I want you to stay.” He always wanted her to stay.
“You have to work tomorrow and it’s already late.”
“It’s going to take me a while to fall asleep after what happened,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’d rather spend the time with you.”
It was too late for a soak in the tub, but they stripped down and stepped into the shower, running the water as hot as he could stand it, which was how she liked it. Some of the tension eased from his muscles as the water beat against his body, and he smiled at the way Cait closed her eyes and turned her face into the spray.
“I’m sorry my shampoo doesn’t smell very pretty,” he said as he squeezed some into his palm. Then he started working it through her thick hair, kneading her scalp with the tips of his fingers.
She groaned and tilted her head back against his touch. “I don’t care what it smells like when you’re doing that.”
“If you tell me what you like, I can get a bottle.” He managed to say it matter-of-factly, as if offering up space in his shower wasn’t a huge step for him. One he’d never taken with a woman, actually. The only girlfriend he’d gotten close to that serious with had her own apartment and preferred they spend their time there.
“I have an extra bottle,” she said. “I’ll try to remember to put it in my car next time I come over.”
He kissed her shoulder, avoiding the shampoo running down her back. “Step back and I’ll rinse your hair.”
They didn’t linger long in the shower. It was late and he wanted her in his bed. He wanted his arms around her and his mouth on hers. It had been a rough ending to their date and he wanted to push those memories away.
He was wrapping a towel around her when she started to tremble slightly. “Cait? What’s wrong?”
“That was scary.” He watched her blink back tears, her breath a shuddering sight. “I thought we were going to hit that car. And I thought somebody would have to call...”
The words trailed off, but he watched her throat work at swallowing and knew where her mind had gone. She was imagining what would happen if her mother got a phone call that something had happened to her daughter.
He pulled her close, her hair damp under his chin. “We didn’t hit them. We’re okay and they’re going to be okay.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just... It was scary.”
“Hell yeah, it was.” He didn’t even want to think about it, honestly. “But we handled it.”
