October Fire: a Childhood Friends to Lovers Romance

He thought he was over her—until she walked back into his life. She’s shocked to find her nerdy childhood friend is now a sexy firefighter—and the most reluctant calendar model she’s ever met!

“Oz, you’re going in,” the captain said.
Yes!
Lucas ‘Oz’ Osborne yanked his gloves and helmet off and tossed them on the ground. He gripped the edge of the Buick LaCrosse, ignoring the wind and snow that lashed at his face. He’d been with Reno Fire for two years and had taken part in his share of extrications, but he’d never been point person.
At his teammate Kade’s nod, he shoved his head and shoulders through the rear passenger-side window. His fists closed on the front seat-back and his arm muscles strained as he dragged the rest of his body through the small opening.
The woman in the driver’s seat moaned, and his heart started beating triple-time. “Don’t move, ma’am,” he said. “I’m coming to you.”
He got himself upright and reached for the cervical collar Kade pushed through the broken window.
“You got this,” Kade said. “ABC’s, then primary assessment.”
Lucas nodded. Airway, Breathing, Circulation…
He slid across the back seat and situated himself behind the driver. “Ma’am, can you hear me?”
“Yes, I… I hear you.” There was a tremble in the woman’s voice. “But I can’t see you.”
“I’m right behind you in the back seat,” he said. “You’re going to feel me touching you.”
He got his hands around the seat rest and placed his fingers against her carotid artery. Her pulse was fast but strong. “Are you having any trouble breathing, ma’am?”
“No, but I can’t feel my legs,” she said. “Oh my God, are they crushed?!”
He heard the rising panic in her voice, but there was no way he could assess that part of her anatomy from the rear seat. His job was to stabilize her and keep her calm.
He hefted himself off the back seat and reached over the console. He got his fingertips on the rearview mirror and tilted it so that he could make eye contact. “Ma’am, can you see me in the mirror?” he said.
The woman’s pale green eyes bounced around before connecting with his. There were some minor cuts on her face—possibly from the force of the air bag deploying—and he guessed her to be in her early to mid-sixties.
“We’re going to get you out.” He was surprised how calm is own voice sounded. “But I need you to stay still right now. Can you do that for me?”
She blinked. “Yes.”
He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “My name is Lucas,” he said. “What’s yours?”
“Margaret,” she said. “But everyone calls me Meg.”
“Well, Meg, you and I are going to get to know each other a little better while my firefighter friends work on your car.” He wedged his hand between the seats and placed it on hers where it lay on the console. “Can you feel my hand, Meg?”
In answer, she turned her palm over and squeezed his fingers.
Good; she had Circulation, Motion and Sensation in her upper body. Still, the comment about her legs concerned him.
“Is my car totaled?” Meg was pretty coherent, all things considered, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t injured her head or neck.
“I’m afraid so, Meg,” he said. “The driver’s side is squashed up against a cement divider, and the passenger side is jammed from the force of the other car’s impact. We’re going to have to peel the lid off your car like a can of sardines.”
Meg frowned. “I don’t like sardines,” she said.
A fissure of worry slithered down his spine; did she have a brain injury? Then he caught the tentative smile on her lips and realized she was joking. Well, he could do that if it made her more comfortable.
“Me neither,” he said. “But put a salmon in front of me, and it’s gone.”
Her smile grew, but then she winced.
Before he could say anything more, his radio rumbled with the captain’s voice. “How’s she doing, Oz?”
“Tell them I’m fit and feisty,” Meg said.
Lucas felt a pinch of pride; Meg had an attitude that would see her through this. He keyed the microphone with his free hand. “Conscious with good pulse and respirations. Major complaint is not being able to feel her legs.”
When he looked back up at the mirror, Meg’s eyes were closed. His mouth went dry; had she passed out?
“Meg?”
Her eyes opened, and a wave of relief washed over him.
“Meg, I need to let go of your hand so I can put a cervical collar around your neck,” he said. “It’s just a precaution, to protect your neck and spine.”
She relinquished his hand reluctantly, and he made quick work of placing the collar around her neck and fastening it.
He checked her breathing and pulse again. Still good.
The car shivered, and Meg let out a strangled squawk.
“Easy, Meg,” Lucas said. “They’re putting supports on all the tires so the car won’t move when they start cutting.”
“Oh, God,” she breathed. “It’s like Chicago Fire.”
He almost smiled. His colleagues hated that show because of its inaccuracies about fire and rescue—but he wasn’t about to point that out to Meg. “Kind of,” he said.
“I do like that Kelly Severide character,” Meg murmured. “Such a good boy—but so confused about relationships.”
Lucas’s partner, Maizy Johnston, appeared in the broken window frame, a heavy-duty safety blanket in her hands. “Chocks are in place,” she said.
She pushed the blanket through the window. Behind her, Kade hefted the hydraulic cutters, and Lucas knew he had less than a minute to get them both covered.
“Meg, I’m going to put this blanket over you,” Lucas said. “It’ll protect you from glass and other particles.”
He positioned the blanket over both of them. “It’s going to get loud,” he said. “I promise the ceiling is not going to fall in on you, even if it sounds like it is, okay?”
“Lucas?”
“Yes, Meg?”
“Do you mind holding my hand again?” Her right hand appeared up by her shoulder.
He squirrelled his hand over the seat and grasped it. Any more words he would have said were drowned out by the saw.
Geez, it was loud. He’d never realized how loud. Then again, he’d never been on the receiving end of its abilities.
He squeezed Meg’s hand. She squeezed back.
Metal screeched and the frame bent. The windshield glass splintered, fragments of it pelting the outside of the blanket. Meg’s grip became painful, but he was grateful for it because it meant she was still conscious.
Come on, come on…
The car’s frame jerked as the top was peeled away. Wind lifted the corners of the blanket, and he peered out to see Maizy scramble into the front passenger seat. She rammed a jack under the dash and pumped it several times. “Get the KED over here!” she called.
Cautiously, Lucas straightened so that he was bent over the front seat. Ignoring the snow that soaked into his hair and snuck down his collar, he used his free hand to drape the blanket over the twisted remains of the pillar so that Meg was somewhat protected from the wind and snow.
His fingers found Meg’s pulse again. Still strong, thank God.
“How are you doing, Meg?” he said.
“I can definitely feel my legs now!” she groaned.
“I know this is going to sound odd, but that’s a good thing,” Lucas said. “Once we get you out of here the paramedics can give you something to help with the pain.”
Lucas supported Meg’s neck and head as Maizy slid the Kendrick Extrication Device (aka KED) behind her. Between the two of them, they got all the buckles fastened despite the snow that cramped their fingers and made everything slicker than snot (and had no-doubt been a major contributor to the accident).
“Let’s get you out of here, Meg,” Lucas said.