Sin City Uniform 01 - All Fired Up (2 page)

By the time he reached the victim, he was no longer able to touch the bottom at all. He turned the man over, wrapping his arm around his chest, keeping his head above water.

Shawn’s muscles burned with the stress of hauling the limp weight of the unconscious drunk to safety through the frigid waters, and from swimming using only one arm to pull them both along.

Taking in big gulps of air, he noted that several emergency vehicles had arrived. He could barely make out the yellow engine that he was certain would be from nearby Station 32. There were additional police units, the red truck of Las Vegas Fire and Rescue, as well as at least one ambulance.

The drunk awoke with a start, choking and gasping, fighting Shawn’s attempts to save his life. Shawn was pulled under. He’d barely had a chance to take a breath. His feet hit the bottom and Shawn propelled both of them back up out of the water. It was only a few seconds before he was dragged under again. Weakening, Shawn tried once more, but he barely broke the surface. Right as he sucked in a breath, he was yanked down and he took in more water than air.

Oh shit. Might be drowning.

His lungs burned. He sputtered under the surface and fought not to inhale again, but it was impossible. His body’s natural instinct to draw in air took over and he sucked in more cold water. He was disoriented and dizzy, not sure how much longer he could last.

Keep fighting, keep kicking!
Right as he was at the edge of unconsciousness, strong arms encircled his waist and lifted him well above the water line. He knew not to fight, to allow himself to be guided, but he couldn’t stop himself from coughing violently, his body doing everything it could to expel the unwanted liquid from his airways.

“I’ve got you. Hang tight. We’re almost there.”

No way. Trent Marshall.

He would’ve recognized the deep growl of Station 32 firefighter Trent anywhere. As much as he wanted to be thrilled that he was finally being held by his first local crush, he was more concerned with staying alive. He still gasped and choked, but other than the strong ache in his lungs and the fact that he was inexplicably freezing, he was sure he’d be okay.

Trent saved me.

The world was a crazy place and Vegas was the craziest. He’d only met the guy one time at a Clark County blood drive organized by the police and fire agencies and he’d been certain that their attraction was mutual. When Trent had shaken his hand politely and walked away, Shawn figured he must have read too much into the way Trent had looked him over throughout that afternoon. And here he was being held by the man.

They reached the banks of the lake and Shawn was finally able to put his feet down.

Wanting to maintain a small portion of his dignity, he loosened what he realized had been a death grip on Trent and attempted to stand on his own. His legs immediately gave out and he would’ve fallen face first back into the water if Trent hadn’t caught him.

“Let me help you, Shawn.”

He remembers my name?

Trent wrapped his arms around Shawn’s torso and guided him to the edge of the water.

The crowds cheered and he noted that two other firefighters leaned over the balustrade, ready to haul him up and over. He was frustrated as hell that his normally strong limbs wouldn’t allow him to do it himself, his muscles still like jelly.

Moving behind him, Trent then grasped his waist with his large hands and lifted him up right as the other men grabbed his arms. Just as he was being pulled up by the rescuers, Trent planted one of his strong hands on Shawn’s ass and gave him a hearty push. He cleared the top of the stone barrier, groaning over the fact that he’d been publically felt up by a sexy firefighter.

He supposed that was an exaggeration, but he couldn’t help but be a tad embarrassed.

First he’d had to be saved—then everyone had seen him get groped by Trent.

The extra officers who had shown up for support held the crowds back as a stretcher was brought through. The sight of it jarred something in him.

“Where’s the guy who was in the lake?”

“You mean the dumbass?”

Shawn peered up at Trent. He wanted to say something, but instead all he managed was a lame nod. As he’d almost just drowned, he hoped Trent would excuse him for not being more articulate. The gurney stopped next to Shawn and Trent pushed on his shoulder, encouraging him to sit. One paramedic wrapped a blanket around his shoulders while another took his vitals. Still Trent stood there, towering over him—looking at him.

Holy Christ. Say something already.

Trent crossed his arms over his body, almost defiantly. “Don’t worry about that guy. He’s been transported already.”

Trent continued to stare. Shawn wriggled. His soggy briefs were scrunched in his crack and his balls were being uncomfortably smashed. Not a good combination.

“You must be pretty strong. I bet that drunk has a hundred pounds on you.”

Shawn couldn’t tell if he was being complimented or mocked. That was the one thing he’d noticed when he’d spoken with Trent that day at the blood drive—the monotone sound of his voice. Not that the deep timbre wasn’t as sexy as hell—it was—but it was difficult to read. It sort of reminded him of Clint Eastwood—or John Wayne. Somewhere in between. He must have had a questioning expression on his face.

“Are you all right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, still trying to process all of this.”

One of the medics interrupted. “Officer Everly, can you tell me where you are and what just happened?”

He couldn’t help but frown, even though he knew the EMT was simply doing his job.

“Yes. I’m in front of the Bellagio and I tried to retrieve a misbehaving tourist from the drink.”

Trent made a sound that came out as a combination of a grunt and a snort. “That’s a charitable way to put it.”

Shawn chuckled and gazed up at Trent, noting the steel blue eyes that had captured him when he first met the firefighter. Since Shawn was only about five foot nine and Trent was at least six foot two, the sensation that he loomed over him was even sharper with him seated and Trent standing. A slight smirk tugged at the corners of Trent’s mouth. Shawn figured the guy was likely mid-thirties, but he had what appeared to be a permanently established deep tan. His hair was a sandy sun-bleached blond that had probably leaned more toward brown at one time. Lines in his forehead and around his eyes were noticeable, but did nothing to detract from his masculine good looks. Shawn couldn’t even begin to contemplate Trent’s well-built body. It wouldn’t help him feel any better about himself to get hard in front of not only his associates, but also the tourists as well. He’d been treated to the sight of Trent’s muscular physique at the blood drive when all that the firefighter had worn was a form fitting T-shirt and shorts.

Another medic came over and handed Trent a blanket and started to try to take his vitals too. He accepted the blanket but shot the EMT a glare that could’ve given children nightmares, and the poor guy backed off. Shawn was reminded that Trent had also braved the bizarrely freezing waters of the Bellagio fountain.

“Sorry you had to come after me like that.”

It wasn’t the most eloquent thing to say, but he
had
just gone through a near-death experience. He assured himself that he shouldn’t be expected to come up with anything too amazing.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The only person who should be sorry is the—”

“Dumbass?”

Trent made the smirking face again, narrowing his eyes as he nodded at Shawn.

Which means…?

The spark was back. A dose of attraction. But would they do anything about it this time?

Right then, a news van pulled up. It parked next to one that he hadn’t noticed was already there. Since parking was never allowed right on the Strip, it was a good bet that that side of the Boulevard had been closed off as soon as the emergency vehicles had arrived. He spotted Vicki and Darren keeping the reporters back.

When he turned to finally say something to Trent, he was surprised to see he’d walked away. He didn’t want to appear too obvious by searching him out, so he subtly glanced around. First he brought the blanket up over his head—not a bad idea anyway with the press trying to get photos—and used it to shield himself.

After catching a glimpse of Trent over by the engine talking to the driver, he realized he was being goofy. He’d almost drowned in a fucking phony lake at a casino and he was trying to hook up with the fireman who’d rescued his sorry ass.

Beyond pathetic.

Sure, he was lonely—the new guy in town and all that—but he didn’t need to take it to extremes, even though he
had
already been interested in fireman Marshall from the first moment he’d spied the brawny looker. Still, trying to get a date under the current circumstances was probably not the brainiest of ideas he’d ever had. He could wait. There was a definite attraction. He had no clue as to why Trent had walked away after they’d first met or why he’d done it again, but that wouldn’t stop him.

Never shoulda looked at me like that if you didn’t want to play.

Trent made sure to keep his body angled in a way so that he could keep an eye on Officer Shawn Everly. He didn’t want the cop to catch him gazing in his direction, but he couldn’t stop himself from doing that very thing.

So cute. Dammit.

Their first handshake at the blood drive had almost done him in. There had been an instant zing when their skin had touched. Everything about the officer who had been dressed in a muscle baring T-shirt had appealed to him.

He was sure Shawn was at least thirty—based on his years in the force—however, he appeared younger. Shawn had wavy brown hair that was trimmed in a stylishly short cut.

He’d been fascinated by the cop’s intense hazel eyes with gold flecks in them that had seemed to change color as he spoke. His features were angular, his mouth wide and perfect when he smiled. Even though Shawn was shorter, he had a confident and strong presence.

Trent had noted that he was very friendly, unassuming—that had been a huge turn on. It was also obvious that Shawn was a man who took care of himself. It had been even more obvious when he’d held Shawn close to him in the water.

Trent coughed into his fist and inclined his head away from the man he hadn’t been able to push from his mind since the first time they’d met. Trent couldn’t even remember how they’d ended up talking at the event, yet he easily recalled how he hadn’t been able to stop caressing the officer with his stare the entire time. He was sure Shawn had noticed.

Walking away had been the only answer. He would have been too weak otherwise. It didn’t matter how attracted he was to Shawn, he didn’t need another cop in his life. Never again.

“Ready to pack up here?”

Trent was pulled from his reverie by his driver, Lee.

“Yeah. We’re done.”

He chanced another peek in the direction of Shawn and saw that his partner and one of the sergeants from the area command were with him. It was none of his business and he knew Shawn could take care of himself, yet he couldn’t help the urge inside him to verify that he was being properly attended to.

“Trent! Are we rolling or what?”

He balled up the blanket the medic had handed him and made a mental note to return it to the hospital the following day. The evening heat had done a fine job of drying the outer layer of his uniform, but he couldn’t say the same for his tighty-whities. They were chafing him in the most annoying—and potentially embarrassing—of ways. He boosted himself into the passenger side of the engine and Lee eased the massive truck out onto the Boulevard, heading south for a quick drive back to the nearby station.

“So, saved a cop, huh?” Lee chuckled. “Now that we’ve one upped them, they’re gonna want a rematch.”

Trent shook his head the way he always did when he was perplexed by the things people said. He shook his head a lot.

“I was doing my job, and so was he. It’s not his fault the lush he was trying to rescue was easily two hundred fifty, sixty pounds or more. I’m surprised he did as well as he did. Although it’s rather apparent he works out a lot.”

Shit.

“I see. This is becoming more interesting all the time. And how would you know this rather personal bit of information, Lieutenant Marshall?”

It was a good bet he would be dizzy by the end of the night from all the head shaking.

“It’s rather simple. I had my arms around his torso when I pulled him from the water.”

“Yeah, and your hand on his ass. That was subtle.”

He fought the compelling urge to spit out his response. “I was assisting in extracting him from the lake.”

Lee nodded, pursing his lips as he did. “Yeah, that’s one way you could put it. Another way would be that you were checking out how much of a workout his ass gets.” Lee dissolved into spasms of laughter as he turned right onto Harmon Avenue.

Sometimes he wished he’d been more discreet in coming out to his fellow team members. It had been a practical decision for him. He had wanted it out of the way so there wouldn’t be any annoying inquiries or rumors. He didn’t have the patience for that kind of shit. But truthfully, no one was safe when it came to possible romantic prospects. The new guy, Ronnie, had been ribbed mercilessly over one of the ER nurses at the University Medical Center he’d had a crush on. It had gotten to the point where the kid had been terrified to go anywhere near the hospital. Fortunately, Ronnie’s potential paramour hadn’t been intimidated by a bunch of immature public servants and had approached Ronnie instead.

After arriving back at the station, showering and changing into dry clothes, Trent headed to the kitchen to grab a bite. They’d had to jet out of there so fast when the call to the Bellagio had come in, there hadn’t been an opportunity to do anything other than turn the oven off and leave their planned chicken dinner to fester on its own. He opened the metal door and was dismayed at the sight of the shriveled pieces. He gingerly picked one up and noted that it had solidified into an inedible dried-up lump. Lee sidled up to him and examined the remains.