Free Sizzle (St. Martin Family Saga): Emergency Responders by Gina Watson Page B

palm.
    “Thank you for what you did, Clay St. Martin. I owe you my life.”
    Clay shrugged. “It’s what I do.” He argued silently with his soul, the deep part of him that was currently shouting that what was between them was so much more than just his job.
    “You went beyond your job. When I called 911 a second time, I got a recorded message stating all emergency services had been temporarily disabled. You risked you job and life. You didn’t have to come for us.”
    He nodded because he couldn’t speak as he thought about what would have become of her had he not gone back. They walked toward the designated evacuee area. As he surveyed the space in the gym, he saw children running wild, without discipline, and women and men crammed into a room much too small for so many.
    His work was done, and he had no reason to linger. He passed Eve over to a volunteer and turned away, feeling let down. He told himself his unease was from the drop in adrenaline, but he knew a lie when he heard it.
    He was moving toward the door when Jack hurried over and whispered, “Augie said they’re running low on food and water. Supplies won’t be able to get in for hours. Or it could be a few days, God forbid, or even weeks before they get everything they need.”
    Clay searched across the gymnasium until his eyes landed on her yellow curls. She was already rolled into a ball on one of the cots, using the sweatshirt he gave her as a pillow. The man in the cot next to her reached out to rub her back, and instantly Clay stiffened. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he strode across the room to check on her. His anger was starting to build, and he’d need to focus to keep it in check. He stood at the edge of her cot, listening as she softly cried and curled her body away from the man’s touch.
    Of course anybody would notice her beauty. He had. Men were like piranhas, and she was blood in the water. As he stood there, he thought he might have saved her from one dire situation only to dump her into another. He looked around. Men were taking notice of her even in the baggy clothes. The shelter was good cover from the storm but the things that went on inside could be worse than fighting the elements outside. He’d seen this before during other storms. There were just too many displaced people in one location.
    “Get your fucking hands off her.” His voice was louder than he’d expected and, laced with anger, it was edgy. The man looked up and cringed when he saw Clay hovering over him. He retreated.
    Eve opened her eyes. When she saw Clay, she sat up and smiled. “Thanks again.” She wiped at her face. “Are you going out on another rescue?”
    Her eyes were large and bright and she seemed to be doing everything she could to remain positive, even though she’d been crying. He was sure she was dealing with a touch of post-traumatic stress. His brain was working out a way to tell her goodbye again, but his body wouldn’t move, and his lips were paralyzed.
    Bombarded with facts, he stood unmoving. The supplies here were running low. He had a cozy home right across the street from the department, outfitted with all the provisions she could need: generator, potable water, and food. He was going back toward that well-provisioned home right now. And nobody would be using it since he was on duty until they’d cleaned up after the hurricane.
    Shit, he was about to do something well out of his comfort zone, an act that just might change his life, but his frontal cortex had shut down, and with it went all reasoning. His emotions took hold of him like an iron fist around his throat, not only leading him but threatening him with harm if he didn’t listen. He wouldn’t leave her. Couldn’t leave her.
    He crouched down to her level, until they were knee to knee. “Eve, you’re coming home with me.”
    Her smile was wildly electric as she jumped at him aggressively and locked her arms around his neck.
    “Thank you, thank you, thank you.