Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Thank God I’m lying down because my knees are so weak I might faint if I was standing.
2
AIDAN
“Now if this is your first time, don’t panic,” I say to the crowd of rookies standing in front of me. “It’s perfectly normal to be nervous.”
A few of them smother laughs at the innuendo, and I grin, happy that they seem at ease. This drill really isn’t a big deal, but I remember being in their boots…nearly twenty years ago. The thought makes me shake my head, and I run my hand over the scratch of stubble at my jaw.
Damn, these guys are half my age, fresh-faced, and that mix of eagerness and nerves that’s so familiar. It’s my responsibility to encourage that excitement for their job because that kind of drive is what’s going to help save lives and keep them from burning out while they’re at it.
“Now, even though the volunteers are only pretending to be injured for this exercise, it’s important you all treat this as though it were real and take it seriously,” Waylon, my Lieutenant, says to the team.
I nod in agreement. “Take time to read over the scenario cards beside your volunteer, reassure them the way you would a real victim, and go through the motions needed to evacuate and transport them safely to the treatment center on the right side of the room. Understood?”
“Understood, Captain!” they all answer in unison, and I smile at them, pleased.
“Alright then, let’s get started.”
I turn and open the door to the room we’re using for training, heading inside and pausing to make sure the recruits are ferrying in behind me. Only when the first couple kneel at the side of a volunteer do I take the room in fully. There’s a volunteer for every one of us, all laid out on thin blue mats that remind me of gym class. Beside them all is a white card with their scenarios written in black pen because if they’re supposed to be unconscious, they can’t exactly tell the guys what’s happened to them.
My gaze stops as it lands on a pair of deep blue eyes. I can’t look away even if I want to. The woman is on her back with her knees bent, her neck craned towards the door I’m standing by. Dark blonde curls are splayed around her, and the white blouse and black pants she’s wearing accentuate her curves even in her prone position. Her full lips are parted in what looks like surprise, and I swear I see her pupils dilate as I take her in.
She’s stunning. The kind of woman who could stop traffic with her beauty. She might as well have done just that, considering I’m standing here looking like a damn fool, utterly enchanted by someone I’m supposed to be pretending to help.
It’s not even a choice—she’s the volunteer I’m tending to. I need to know who the hell she is and if she’s hiding white feathery wings beneath that golden hair because surely she’s an angel. No mere human could look so heavenly surely.
I take a long stride in her direction when someone else does the same. No. This girl is mine, and like fuck is anyone else treating her. I glance sideways just enough to see that it’s Waylon as I shoulder-check him, pushing myself in front.
“Get your own,” I growl at him, not meaning the words to slip out until it’s too late. What the hell am I doing? Never in my life have I felt this surge of possessiveness that’s coming over me, especially not for a stranger. I’m determined she won’t be a stranger any longer. And I can’t bring myself to regret my out-of-character actions towards my lieutenant, even as he murmurs a confused “What?” from behind me. I’m not paying attention. No, my entire being is focused on the woman who’s sending my heart beating so fast I’m half worried I’m going to end up as a training exercise myself.
I reach the edge of her mat and drop to my knees. My uniform rustles and my boots squeak on the tiled floor, my mind whirring. It’s a struggle to remember how to act even though I’ve done this drill countless times. One glance at her and my brain is a useless puddle, incapable of producing a thought other than mine, mine, mine.
“You here to save me?” a sweet, light voice asks. There’s a smile playing on her lush lips when she says the words, a glint in her ocean-blue eyes that sends heat rushing through me as if there’s actually a damn fire in the building.
I can’t help but smirk back at her, knowing I’m outright staring but refusing to stop. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” I tell her, my voice gravelly as it fills the space between us. “I’m gonna take real good care of you.”