Back the Blue: Eligible Bachelors, page 1
Back the Blue
Most Eligible Bachelor
Layla Delaney
Copyright © 2024, Layla Delaney
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and situations either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Acknowledgements
This is for all first responder families.
If you know, you know.
Much love,
Layla
One
“Shit,” Malcolm hisses. “This is going to suck.”
“Dammit,” I sigh. “This is not how I wanted to start my Friday night. We better vest up.”
“Absolutely,” he nods. “I’m not getting taken out by a bunch of drug dealing asshats. Too bad we don’t have helmets though.”
“Well, hopefully if we’re aiding a fellow gang member, they’ll give us some cover,” I counter lamely as I pull my vest on.
“You’ll have better than that,” Lenny our driver calls back. “Sounds like the FBI is responding to this.”
“What?”
Malcolm and I react in unison. Lenny grimaces and shakes his head.
“Sounds like one of the members is on their top ten right now. They want him. Bad.”
Malcolm locks eyes with me. His expression says it all; he doesn’t want me out of the ambulance. He wants to take the risk for me. And while I love him for it…
“Over my dead body,” I growl.
“You better hope you don’t get your wish, Lorna,” he says seriously. “If there’s only one patient, I can handle it.”
“I’m your superior, it’s not your call.”
He doesn’t like this, but he doesn’t argue. Thank fuck. Right now, I need to get myself ready for whatever lies ahead. In five more minutes, Lenny curses from the front seat. That’s not unusual, but it sets me on edge even more tonight. When we pull to a stop, we lean forward and check out the scene.
“Multiple injuries. Multiple victims,” I mutter.
“And it looks like the FBI has secured the perimeter,” Malcolm points out.
“Let’s get to it,” I say with a nod.
I turn for the door, but before I can push it open, someone does it for me. And my breath stops at the sight of him. I swear to God he fills the entire bay he’s so large. But when his eyes lock with mine, they widen for just a moment. And that’s all I need to stop my assessment of his very fine physical attributes and set him in his place.
“I’ve got a job to do and you’re in my way,” I say coldly.
“We need another minute to secure the perimeter,” he growls.
“I need to assess the victims, prioritize their injuries, and call for more assistance if necessary,” I snap. “A minute could cost me a life.”
“This is a gang war,” he snaps.
“I don’t care.”
His eyes narrow and I straighten as much as I can standing in the open door. Just as he takes a breath to say something else, someone calls out.
“Hughes, we’re clear! Get those medics out here, now!”
I don’t bother to hide the smirk on my face. But I gasp when he grabs me by my waist and pulls me out of the ambulance as if I weigh nothing. Then, without a word, he grips my elbow and hustles me over to a man lying in a pool of blood. Not giving a damn about Mr. Body Builder, I drop to my knees and get to work.
Time passes as I do my job. I’m vaguely aware of the voices around me. Some are calm, some aren’t. Without realizing it, I’m somehow aware that the agent that pulled me out of the back of the ambulance is hovering. When I have a second, I glance around and find Malcolm working on another victim. I smile a bit, thankful that he’s not distracted. As soon as I’ve stopped the bleeding on my patient, I hear sirens alerting me to the arrival of more medical personnel. Which is good because I need to get my patient on a stretcher, like, yesterday. No sooner do I put one foot on the ground to stand, a shot rings out.
And I fall flat on my back, gasping for breath and clawing at my vest.
“Fuck.”
The word is spoken simultaneously by me and the agent, who is now hovering over me as he scans the perimeter with his giant weapon. For a few moments, I do a quick assessment of myself. I reach under my vest and check for a wound, lest these criminals have amour piercing bullets. When I feel nothing but tenderness, and no blood, I start to prop myself up. Somehow, though, the agent manages to keep me on my back with his left hand just seconds after he fires his weapon.
“Let me up,” I snap. “I need to get my patient on a stretcher.”
“He’s going to have to wait,” he hisses. “Your safety comes first.”
“My vest did its job.”
“And I need to do mine,” he says in a low voice.
Knowing he can easily keep me in place, I lay my head back on the ground with a frustrated growl. When I let my eyes close, I swear I hear him chuckle, but I let it go for now. Because I can’t do my job if I take a bullet, and I don’t really want to press my luck. Another thirty seconds pass and I hear someone call out another all clear. This time, when I move to sit up, the agent aids me. But before I can do anything else, he presses his massive hand over my vest where the bullet struck me. I immediately slap his hand away, and his eyes flash with anger and…something.
“I need my patient on a stretcher, now.”
Without breaking eye contact with me, he shouts out to someone and gets an affirmative response. Then he grips my elbow and helps me stand. Our eyes stay locked together, and before I can tell him something about himself and how he’s interfering with my job, he leans in close and speaks in a low voice that shouldn’t sound sexy in this situation.
“I swear I’m going to keep you safe,” he says. “I’m going to stay with you until you’re clear of this patient, and then some if necessary. No one else is going to take a shot at you on my watch.”
Despite the touch of Neanderthal possessiveness, which annoys me to no end, my breath catches in my throat at the sincerity laced in his tone. And for whatever reason, I believe him.
“Fine,” I rasp. “Let’s get this man on a stretcher and get him to the hospital.”
“You got it,” he grins.
And with that, another agent appears with my stretcher and the two of them help me do my job with an amount of effortless efficiency that belies some type of medical training. No sooner are we moving toward the ambulance, I shout back to Malcolm.
“What’s your status?”
“Gonna be a few minutes, but I’ll hitch a ride with another crew.”
He looks up and locks eyes with me. I give him a nod of acknowledgement and he does the same. But the small grin on his face as he looks at the giant agent who has his hand plastered against the small of my back annoys the fuck out of me. And I plan on giving him hell for his lack of personal space just as soon as I can.
Two
I know I don’t need to keep my hand on her, but I can’t seem to help myself. The second I opened the back of the ambulance and looked up into her gorgeous face with her piercing green eyes, I was a goner. A wave of possession washed over me like a tsunami and in that moment, I knew exactly how my father felt for my mother when they first got together.
Am I jumping the gun by already making us a couple?
Maybe.
But my desire to see that she was safe in this situation was real. And it increased tenfold after she took a bullet to the chest. Something that I never want to see happen to anyone, but seeing it happen to her did strange things to me.
In less than two minutes, I’m pulling the door shut and we’re on our way. While the medic goes about her job, I deftly secure the victim to the stretcher. I can feel her eyes on me when I do, but I ignore her. Because I don’t want to take any more chances with her life. So, when she’s finished and satisfied that the victim is secure, I step over him and settle beside her. I reach out to touch her vest where the bullet struck her, but damn if she doesn’t catch my wrist and grip it.
Hard.
My mind takes a dark turn and I smirk as I meet her eyes.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she snaps.
“Assessing the damage,” I say hoarsely.
“I’m fine,” she growls. “And I’d thank you to keep your hands to yourself from now on.”
“We’ll see,” I chuckle.
She frowns at this and takes a breath, but her attention is stolen by the victim as he suddenly comes to and starts to struggle. When she moves over him, I notice he’s managed to slip his left hand into his pocket. Before he can do something stupid, I lock my hand over his wrist. His eyes slide over to mine, and he shouts into the oxygen mask.
“Get off me, motherfucker,” he chokes out. “Both of you.”
“Mind your mouth around the lady,” I snap. “She’s trying to save your fucking life.”
He stills for a moment, then, as if his brain has finally caught up with his body, he closes his eyes and howls with pain. The medic, whose name I wish I knew, curses as she does what’s necessary to ease him. An un
fortunate thing if you ask me. But it’s obvious she’s going to do her job no matter what. Something that I find extremely commendable given the fact that she took a bullet while doing so.
Somehow, she gets the victim settled and is able to sit again just moments before the driver tells us we’ve arrived at the hospital. When we’ve come to a stop, I pop open the back doors and hop down. As soon as I turn, she’s already pushing the stretcher toward me. She hops down and we head for the ER doors. When we push through, there are several others headed our way. My gorgeous medic details the victims prognosis with ease. I stay in the hallway when they push him into a room.
Like a teenage voyeur, I watch her work. And I finally have a chance to take her in.
Even under her vest, I can tell that her figure is exactly what I like; full and curvy. Her bright green eyes are deep set, her nose slightly turned up at the end, and her lips…Jesus, her lips are the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen in my life. And I want nothing more than to find out how they taste.
I’m still staring at her when she turns away to walk out. Her eyes lock with mine when she does. If she’s shocked to find my attention on her she doesn’t show it. And she doesn’t stop to sass me, either, which I’m mildly disappointed about. Not giving a damn about giving away my interest in her, I turn my whole body to watch her walk away. And my God, what a sight it is. My smile widens on its own. Then it disappears completely when her partner, Malcolm she called him, rushes in with his victim and another one of our agents.
My lovely medic doesn’t miss a beat as she turns to assist.
They rush past me and move into the next room. Reluctantly, I stay where I am and look in on my charge. For now. Because as soon as another agent gets here, I intend on gathering the information I need to keep tabs on my medic and her partner, lest our wanted kingpin decides to go after them.
My body shivers at the thought, and I make another vow to myself to protect her.
My medic.
Yes. I’m claiming her as mine now. Whether or not it happens sooner or later remains to be seen. But I intend on having her.
Neanderthal much?
Not until she fell into my life. And I’ll take it. Every day of the week and twice on Sunday.
I stay at my post until Agent Bant arrives. I give him a quick rundown of the victim in the room I’m watching. He settles in to wait for more agents to arrive for questioning. Just as I turn to find my soon-to-be lady, she and her partner appear. I approach slowly as they continue to talk. When they notice my presence, they stop. I get a smile from Malcolm, and a scowl from my medic as she crosses her arms over her chest.
Which reminds me.
“Have you been checked out?” I ask her pointedly.
“There’s no need,” she says tightly. “I’m fine.”
“You took a bullet to the chest, you need to see a doctor,” I counter.
“And you need to mind your own fucking business,” she hisses. “The bullet didn’t break the skin so-”
“What’s this about a bullet?”
Her eyes widen as we all turn and look at the elderly doctor standing beside us. His eyes are locked on my very pissed off medic. And a part of me wants him to stop looking at her.
“I’m fine, Dr. Greer.”
His eyes narrow and then lower to the very obvious bullet still lodged in her vest.
“You know better than that, Lorna,” he says sternly. “Come with me.”
With that, he grips her elbow and leads her further down the hallway. She goes, but not willingly. And not without a searing look in my direction that makes my cock twitch. As I stare after her, Malcolm chuckles and steps in front of me.
“You better be sure of what you’re doing, man,” he grins. “If you’re just after a piece of ass, she’ll make you regret it.”
“Trust me, my man,” I say with a wide grin. “I want everything with that woman.”
Three
Ten minutes after the asshat FBI agent managed to get me into a room for an examination, I’m walking back down the hallway to Malcolm. And go figure, the asshat is still here. Standing like an armored sentry in all his masculine glory. What’s worse is that I can’t decide what pisses me off more, the fact that he’s still here after getting his way or that I want to find out what he looks like out of his uniform.
Jesus Christ, I need to get laid.
Maybe an angry fuck with the asshat would take care of things. No strings attached, just two adults working off some stress of the job. Because God knows I’m going to have a breakdown when I get home. I’ve been in two other situations where shots have been fired at a scene, but they’ve never been directed at me.
That thought stops me dead in my tracks.
Dead.
Someone out there wanted to kill me.
My breath hitches in my chest and the hallway seems to tilt. A strangled sound leaves my throat without my permission as I reach out to steady myself. Then my knees buckle. And my vision blurs. I exhale heavily as I prepare to meet the floor in an ungrateful heap. Instead, two arms lock around me to hold me up. My hands instinctively grip whomever it is. And then I’m quickly lifted into those arms and carried off as my head falls back on my shoulders.
“Find me a bed,” the agent growls. “She’s going into shock.”
Time passes without my knowledge. I hear the medical team speaking and I know what they’re saying but comprehension is beyond me. Finally, things go quiet. But I’m not alone. There’s pressure on my right hand. And I hear someone else breathing. With a great amount of effort, I open my eyes.
And my breath catches again at the sight before me.
It’s the FBI agent. His face is hovering over mine and it’s etched with concern.
For me.
“How do you feel?” he asks softly.
“I…I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “This is all new for you.”
“And it’s not for you?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
My jaw drops. His grip on my hand tightens. And I ask the obvious.
“How many times have you been shot?”
He chuckles at this. And I frown while I wait for his response.
“Do you want the count of the bullets that hit my vest? Or my flesh?”
For whatever reason, tears prick my eyes. Prompting the agent’s brow to furrow as he gently brushes his free hand over my cheek. The contact causes my breath to leave me in a soft exhale. And even though I have a million more questions, just one more leaves me.
“What’s your name?”
He grins at this. A very sexy, mischievous grin. Then he answers me.
“Pitbull.”
My jaw drops. And his grin widens into a panty-melting smile.
“Stop fucking with me,” I snap.
“I am not.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine,” he nods. “I’ll prove it to you.”
He straightens a bit and shouts someone’s name. But he never takes his eyes off me. In a few seconds, another agent walks in.
“Agent Bant, tell Miss Lorna what my name is.”
“Pitbull, sir.”
“Bullshit,” I snap again as I look at him.
“It’s not bullshit, ma’am,” he grins. “That’s all any of us call him.”
“Thank you, Agent Bant,” Pitbull nods.
Without another word, he walks out. And I look back at…Pitbull.
“Ok, so what’s your real name?” I ask him.
“What makes you think Pitbull isn’t my real name?” he chuckles.
“Because no mother is that cruel,” I scoff.
He smiles wide. Then he leans in close again and I’m stupid enough to let my eyes drop to his very kissable lips. Something that I’m certain he notices as his fingers flex on my cheek. When he responds, it’s the last thing I ever expected.
“I’ve never told a woman my real name before.”
“Why?”
“Because I‘ve never wanted a woman to know.”
My brow furrows. But he continues before I can question him again.
“But I think I want you to know.”
The tone of his voice betrays him. And it makes my entire body shiver with need.
“Why?” I breathe.
