I didn't blame the man.

I blamed myself.

Rue was easy to love.

I knew that.

She inspired every protective bone in my body, and if it was possible, I'd kick my own a.s.s for putting those tears in her eyes.

I just needed time to fix it.

I knew I could.

"Hey, Cleo. You ready to fly?"

The pilot and my partner, Cormac Reed, asked.

Mac was a crazy f.u.c.k who I'd come to really rely on in the past three months I'd been working for Life Flight.

"Yeah, but we haven't gotten a call yet," I observed dryly.

Mac gave me a sardonic look.

He was a big b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Not so much tall as stocky.

He was just shy of the two hundred and fifty pound weight limit required for piloting the EC-135. The EC-135 was the brand new addition to the Life Flight fleet in Shreveport, Louisiana. The newest aircraft could now safely transport up to two patients without fear. In the old helicopter, weight was a major issue. Overloading it could be detrimental.

Previously, there'd been a limit to the weight requirements by not only the crew, but the gear and patients as well. Before, we couldn't transport more than one patient, and the stretcher size was minimal at best. Now we could fit a full size stretcher and the EMS worker could possibly have another partner for help if it was needed. With the newest bird, we could do d.a.m.n near anything.

Mac loved the new bird, and he called her Tweety.

Their love for each other was downright disturbing at times.

"We have a demonstration today. Your favorite," he said as he raised his eyebrows at me.

He was lying.

I hated to do meet and greets, as well as demonstrations.

I wasn't on this team to kiss the big wig's a.s.s; I was there to do my job.

Nonetheless, he treated me as his prized pupil. I'd done a meet and greet no less than five times since I'd hired on.

The crew, and I, had better things to do than demos for the companies that paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to this project.

Like save a few lives for instance.

If they wanted proof, all they had to do was read the newspaper articles on us.

"f.u.c.kin' A. Where at?" I asked.

He smiled. "Christus Health. You know, where I found you cornering that poor girl in the hallway. Was she smelling you? I couldn't tell by the way you were towering over her like The Hulk."

I flipped him the bird.

Well that changed things.

I owed her a lunch, anyway.

Chapter 3.

May G.o.d send you flight medics in your dreams, 'cause seriously, they'll bring you good luck...or maybe just wet, satisfying dreams. But who cares?

-Text from Rue to Cody Rue "They're shutting down the parking lot again," Cody said from his spot next to me on the park bench.

I glared at him.

He was eating a bowl of leftover taco soup.

Although he'd offered me some, I'd declined.

Cody was all of a hundred and twenty pounds, wet. The man needed the sustenance more than I did.

I had some body fat my cells could live on if they got desperate.

"f.u.c.k," I said when I saw which helicopter was landing.

It was the same white/green/and blue as the one that had changed my life only two short days ago.

"There was no radio in on anyone coming here. Wonder what they're here for," Cody speculated as he shoved another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

I looked away from him to the ma.s.sive crowd that was crowded around the back parking lot. "I think it has something to do with the CEO's being here today. That has to be it."

"Maybe," Cody said around a mouth full of food. "Maybe it's because that s.e.xy man in that flight suit right there wanted to bring you some lunch."

My head whipped around and I saw Cleo walking towards me with a brown paper bag in his hand. "Do you think he went through the drive through?"

Cody snorted a laugh. "No, he went to that Mexican food restaurant down the street from their building. I told him what to get you."

My stunned eyes turned into his direction. "What do you mean you told him what to get me?"

"Exactly what it sounded like. He called here looking for me, asked me what your favorite food was, and I told him. Simple as that," he shrugged.

I turned to see Cleo closer now, but he'd been stopped by a couple of happy journalists asking him questions.

Flight nurses and medics were like rock stars. All you could do was stare at them in awe.

It took a special person to be a flight medic.

You fly in the rain, snow, sleet, or shine. Then there were the freak crashes that happened every once in a while.

You were all alone up there with literally no one to rely on. You couldn't just pull over when the patient started going bad or it was just too b.u.mpy to do some of the things that you needed to do. You couldn't even have the pilot help. The companies wanted them focusing on flying the plane; not what was going on in the back. Consequently, the majority of them didn't even have their paramedic or nursing license.

"I can't believe you," I sighed. "Why does he even know who you are, anyway?"

Cody stood up and stretched. His navy blue scrubs riding up and exposing his taught abdomen.

Cody was a soccer player.

He could've gone pro, but he'd had a calling.

He became a nurse when he was twenty-two, and was now well on his way to being a nurse pract.i.tioner.

"I was going to go out there and kick his a.s.s when you came in crying earlier, but then I saw the size of him, and I changed my mind," Cody grinned.

I snickered, covering my mouth with my hand. "Oh, G.o.d. The look on your face would've been priceless. I wish I could have seen that. That's perfect."

Cody grinned unabashedly at me before disappearing around the edge of the courtyard and walking back inside.

I saw him walking down the gla.s.s hall towards the back entrance of the ER just scant seconds later.

"Nice guy," Cleo's deep voice said from in front of me.

I turned my gaze away from my friend's retreating back to Cleo's penetrating gaze.

He looked s.e.xy in his black flight suit and Ray Ban sungla.s.ses, with his helmet under one arm.

He held out the food and took a seat on the bench beside me.

"Who is?" I asked as I took the food and set it down in between us.

I opened the bag and nearly died at the smell of warm, melty cheese and spices drifting out from within.

"Papa Taco is my favorite," I said as I started lifting out the plates.

"I know," Cleo explained as he reached for the forks.

I handed him over one of the aluminum containers before opening my own and taking the fork from him.

"What'd you get?" I asked as I took the first bite of the deliciousness.

"The same thing as you. It's my favorite too," he denoted.

I didn't comment on that.

I was still mad at him.

Still sad.

Still just as broken now as I was this morning.

Although, that didn't mean I couldn't eat his Mexican food, and then go about my business.

We ate in silence, the feelings that were between us sitting there percolating just as they'd used to.

It'd been like this before, and I remembered it all to well.

When we'd met, it was a very trying time for the both of us; nonetheless, that didn't stop us from first becoming friends, and then something...more.

I didn't know what he was to me now.

An ex? An old friend? Nothing?

Whatever it was, it most definitely wasn't together.

Licking the last bite off my plastic fork, I stood. "Thanks for the lunch."

I tried not to look at him. I really did. But he had that magnetism to him. The thing that drew me to him.

His eyes were like black diamonds; glittering with something I'd never seen before.

"What?" I asked finally.

He shook his head. "Nothing, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you had lunch. I didn't realize until I got to the station that your salad was still in my saddlebags. I didn't want you to go hungry."

I nearly melted.

Nearly.