Rico's Recovery (Detroit Heat Book 2) (13 page)

For a few minutes, I watched him panting and smiling below me. I couldn’t help but slip back into physical therapist mode for a moment. “Are you feeling any pain anywhere? Your legs or your arm?”

“Baby, I’m not feeling anything right now.”

“Well, that’s not good news.”

He sensed my displeasure. “No, no. I mean I feel so good, it’s like I’m not even human. Everything is just… floating.”

I crawled from on top of him and sprawled beside him on the seat. “All right. I can live with that.”

“Lizzie, I don’t even know what to say. You are such a mystery to me. I never know what to expect. Every time I think I know what you’re up to, I get blindsided.”

I laughed. Closing my eyes, I laid my head on Rico’s shoulder. After a soft moan, I told him, “Good. I wouldn’t want you to get lazy.”

Rico rested his hand on my thigh. It felt comfortable and comforting. “Oh, I believe you won’t ever let me get lazy, coach.”

There was something so warm about Rico. The time we’d spent together was short, but it was powerful. It left me feeling like there was a strong connection between the two of us. I could tell that Rico was a strong, manly-type, but he had never tried to get macho with me. When I was his physical therapist, he worked harder because of me, maybe
for
me.

The depression that had surrounded him in the hospital was gone. He was warm, caring, and I couldn’t stay away. I didn’t
want
to stay away.

Maybe he read the look on my face, because Rico said, “I don’t want to do this sneaking around anymore, Lizzie. The danger is fun and all, but I want to
see
you see you. My parents know about you already.”

My eyes went wide. “You told them? Rico, I could still get into serious trouble!” I wasn’t mad at him, per se, but he should have known better.

“I didn’t tell them anything. My dad figured it out. When he found out you were going to be my therapist, I guess he took notice. I told him I was interested in someone, and he threw your name out there.”

The fear and anger subsided. It was replaced with even more warmth than before. It would be harder than ever to let Rico go. I knew I had to, but damn.

Somehow we managed to get our clothes back on, and I said, “I’m going to check on your file tomorrow. I know you can’t wait—neither can I—but we have to. As soon as you are done with PT, we are free to do whatever we’d like. You think you can survive a little longer, Rico?”

I could have survived a lifetime, if she’d asked me to. I was fucking glad she didn’t, but Lizzie was one in a million. If she said, “jump,” I’d have replied, “I can’t yet, but when I can, how high?”

Yeah, it hurt, but I was getting used to working around hurt. “How much time do you think I have left?” As I spoke, I turned my phone on to see several missed texts and a missed phone call. I quickly sent a response to my worried parents.

Got delayed, heading home now. All is well.

I looked up at Lizzie after sending the text. The look on her face wasn’t exactly reassuring. I raised a brow. “Trouble?”

She shook her head. “No, no. It’s just that I don’t know. I mean, from what I can tell right now, you seem very healthy, stable, and—”

“And a fuck machine?” I had to say it. It was too perfect a moment not to. Lizzie rolled her eyes at my shit-eating grin.

“I would have gone with a more clinical description, but yes. Your stamina is excellent, and you are gaining some muscle back. I’d say less than a month to go.”

My heart pumped harder. Less than a month and Lizzie and I wouldn’t have to sneak around and text our feelings back and forth. And there were some things, some
feelings
, that I couldn’t get across over the phone.

My pops had given me an insight that made me think. I thought about my future, and I thought about Lizzie. It kept me busy most nights.

Lizzie cocked her head. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” I said with a smile. I pulled her in close, getting one last kiss in before I headed back to reality. “The next time this happens, you and I won’t have to sneak around.”

“Is that so?” Lizzie’s smile was like sunshine.

I nodded. “How about you and I grab dinner before the month is up?”

“Rico, you know we can’t do that. If anyone sees—”

“They’ll all see,” I said.

Lizzie shook her head, her smile gone. “We
can’t.
My career is on the line. You of all people should understand that.”

“I do understand it. If you’d let me finish…” I dragged it out, giving her a taste of her own medicine.

“Well? I’m letting you finish.” She didn’t look amused, but I knew she was. Amused and intrigued, I hoped.

I smiled at her. “We eat in the hospital cafeteria.” I saw the look on her face change. “Mmhm. I’m more clever than you give me credit for, Lizzie.” I slid the minivan door open, glad that the parking lot seemed deserted for the moment.

“Cleverer,” she corrected.

Turning back to her, I winked. “Yup, that too.”

Less than a month. I sat on my bed with that thought on replay. In thirty days or less, Lizzie and I would end our secret affair. My parents were the only other people who knew, but I
had
to tell someone else.

I grabbed my keys and my cane. I couldn’t wait until the cane was a thing of the past. A smile crossed my face, because I remembered thinking that the walker would be a thing of the past soon enough. Before that it was the wheelchair. I had defeated them both, and the cane would soon join them.

“Ma, I’m heading out. I’ll be back for dinner, though.”

She called to me from another room. “Where ya going?”

Letting out a sigh, I shouted, “I’m meeting someone.”

This time it was my little sister who replied. “Is it Lizzie?” She practically sang the name.

“No,” I mirrored her sing-song voice. “It’s not Lizzie.”

Before anyone else could slow me down, I hopped in the car and tossed my cane into the passenger seat.

The freedom was refreshing. I’d only been on my own for a few weeks, but it felt amazing after the months of being surrounded by people. First it was the hospital staff. They were great, but the constant cheeriness was really getting to me. Living with the fam was starting to grate on me, as well. Once I got the all clear, I’d be back to my apartment. God, I couldn’t wait.

The station was a welcome sight. I missed work so badly, and seeing Engine 37 gleaming out in the sun made my heart twist. I yearned to be back on shift. I wanted to feel that adrenaline giving me life again. The only rush I’d had in three long months was my amazing encounter with Lizzie.

A shiver ran down my spine as I parked the car. It happened any time I thought of her. She had done an amazing job of digging herself deep inside me. It was a new feeling, but it was one that I liked. I threw the car into park and grabbed the cane.

At first, I thought they might be out on a run. The garage door was down and I didn’t pick up on any of the telltale signs of a living, breathing fire station. No radio blasting out music, the smell of grilling was absent, and there were no voices. It was a slow walk inside, but I felt better than ever.

In through the offices, the station was still eerily silent. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in an empty fire station. I figured I’d check the garage to see the empty bays and get a different feel for things.

When I pushed the swinging door into the kitchen, the lights were out. Then they weren’t.

“Surprise!”

I thought I’d have a coronary. I really did. When the lights flipped on, my entire shift of guys jumped out from behind counters and tables. They all shouted in unison as I grabbed onto the door frame and tried not to shit my pants.

As my heart struggled to keep up, my brothers all came up and threw their arms around me. I couldn’t keep track of everyone. Clay was standing back, leaning against the wall and smiling over at us. He looked over us like a father, and I was sure he thought of us as his sons, too.

Kade was the last one to step forward. “Good to see you, brother.”

I looked down, trying to will the lump in my throat away. When he pulled me in for a rough hug, I couldn’t hold back the emotion any longer.

Looking up, I figured I’d get all kinds of shit for the tears running down my cheek, but no one said a word. They were a group of pranksters, ballbusters, and hard asses, and not one of them said a word. I was
home.

Besides the two liters and bags of chips, there was a cookie cake on the table, but the cursive writing was unreadable. I hobbled over to it and stared at it. “Walter boch, Rice?”

“The fuck?” Arnie leaned in. He was the resident cook on our shift. “It says ‘Welcome back, Rico.’ Didn’t realize the fall damaged your eyes, too. It’s plain as day.”

I laughed. “Sure, sure. It’s plain as something.”

“Hey, we had twenty minutes to throw this all together. Your ma called as soon as you left the house.”
 

“Well, it’s great, Arnie. Thanks, brother.” I slapped him on the back. “How’d she know I was coming here?”

From behind me, Clay spoke. “She said there were only two places, and you told your little sis it wasn’t one of them. Something about a girl.” His voice sounded a bit lower than I remembered. A bit
grayer
.

If the accident had taught me anything, it was that my family knew me better than I ever could have imagined. My family at home, and my family at the station.

The group of guys that I called brothers were huddled around me, and I turned to them. “I can’t thank you enough. It’s been dark. Real dark, but I’m starting to see light again. I’m glad I came out here. I really needed this. Thanks, guys.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dougie said from somewhere in the crowd. He was short and stocky, so I couldn’t even see him. “All we wanna know is, when ya comin’ back?”

I smiled. “Damn, I didn’t realize you missed me so much.”

The voice bellowed out again. “We just hate the fill-ins from the other shifts. We want our rook back.”

Laughter filled the kitchen, my own included. When I looked around, Captain Clay Parnell was the only one not laughing. He looked more serious than ever.

Across from Clay’s desk, I looked around. It was the first time I noticed the place. It was filled to the brim with anything firefighter. Toy trucks stuffed the shelves. Pictures and inspirational shots littered the walls. Even his desk had fire service pens and pencils in a firefighter coffee mug. Clay was a lifer, and he was proud of it.