En Fuego

By Shae Connor

Marshall Ramirez isn't looking to fall in love, but from the moment firefighter Brad Flannery walks through the doors of Marsh's veterinary clinic, he's smitten. Marsh treats Fuego, the cat Brad rescued from a house fire, and convinces Brad to take her on as a foster—along with the three kittens Marsh helps her deliver. What Marsh really wants, though, is for Brad to keep him, too.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shae Connor
• Release date: Feb 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393560272

Book preview

En Fuego

Marshall Ramirez isn’t looking to fall in love, but from the moment firefighter Brad Flannery walks through the doors of Marsh’s veterinary clinic, he’s smitten. Marsh treats Fuego, the cat Brad rescued from a house fire, and convinces Brad to take her on as a foster—along with the three kittens Marsh helps her deliver. What Marsh really wants, though, is for Brad to keep him, too.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Kat, Macy, and Erika for their help with the original edition and to Brynna for help with this edition.

Thanks also to TL Bland for the lovely cover art and the okay to continue using it with the new edition!

Sparks

Hey, boss, ambulance just pulled up out front.

At the words from one of his techs, Marshall’s head popped up from where he was signing off on his last patient, a Lhasa Apso with his third eye infection in a year. Marsh wasn’t too happy about sending the dog home with his apparently less-than-attentive owners, but he didn’t have another option.

An ambulance showing up took precedence over paperwork, considering they were an animal hospital, not a human one. Animals didn’t get ambulance rides much, which automatically made whatever was going on way more interesting than the invoicing he’d planned.

Setting aside the forms for the receptionist to handle, Marsh started toward the door to see what emergency was coming in. After he’d taken just a few steps, the door burst open to admit a firefighter still wearing his full turnout gear and, as Marsh found out when he got close enough for a good whiff, reeking of smoke. The man’s body filled the doorway, all broad shoulders and thick legs, and it took Marsh a moment to draw himself away from the surprise of the other man’s entry to realize he held a small cat in his arms.

The man’s eyes lifted from the animal he cradled so gently against his body, and Marshall almost stumbled when he saw their deep blue.

I just pulled her out of a burning house, the man said. I need to see the doctor.

Marsh forced himself back into motion, crossing the few feet between them so he could touch the man’s shoulder.

From closer up, he saw that the whites of the man’s eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids were drooping, most likely from exhaustion. He also realized that, despite the illusion of size his build gave, the man was a few inches shorter than him. Then again, at six four, nearly everyone was shorter than him. It was just his slim physique that made him seem smaller.

I’m Dr. Ramirez. Marsh kept his voice low and soothing and used the light pressure of his hand to direct the man toward the emergency examination room off to one side. Let’s get her in here and see how she’s doing, okay?

The man held his upper body motionless as he followed Marsh’s lead, arms still curled around his furry companion.

Marsh held the door and let the man precede him into the room before stepping around him.

If you’ll set her up on the table, sir, I’ll take a look. The man looked up again, unsure, and Marsh smiled. It’s fine, sir. You can stay right here with her.

The man’s head jerked up and down a couple of times before he oh-so-slowly and gently eased the cat away from his body and settled her onto the table. She began to meow in protest, and Marsh reached to lay his hand across her back to settle her, but he found his hand lying atop the other man’s instead. Their eyes met again, and Marsh chuckled as he drew his hand away.

Sorry. I usually at least ask for someone’s name before I start holding hands.

That broke through the spell that had kept the other man silent. He gave a small smile. Brad. Brad Flannery. He glanced down. She’s a stray. Heard her crying under the house and went in after her. But the owners don’t have a cat. So I brought her in. Couldn’t just leave her out there like that.

Marsh listened to Brad’s scattershot report while he checked the cat over. Definitely a female, she looked mostly okay, with just a few slight burned spots and some smoke residue around her nostrils and mouth. Light smoke inhalation, and a couple of the burns might be bad enough to need bandaging.

He ran his hands over her body, paused, and did it again, then looked up at Brad.

Well, Mr. Flannery. You might be looking at some grandkittens arriving very soon.

––––––––

A short while later, the diagnosis confirmed, Marsh and Brad stood across from each other in one of the regular exam rooms, the cat lying on the table between them. Marsh finished fitting a tiny oxygen mask over her head, which she clearly wasn’t at all happy about, but since it was designed for this purpose, she’d have a hell of a time trying to get it off.

Okay, we’ll keep her here for a while and watch how her labor progresses. He glanced up at Brad, who seemed to be sinking further into himself the longer he stood there.

Why don’t you grab that chair behind you and have a seat? You can stay here with her if you want.

Brad looked down at himself. He’d dropped his turnout coat in the corner, but he still wore the pants, and his formerly white T-shirt had wide swaths of gray running diagonally across it. I should... I’m a mess, he said.

Marsh arched an eyebrow. You are, a bit. I’ll see if we have some extra scrubs around here, if you want to stay. Or you could go home, get cleaned up, come back?

Brad nodded slowly. I should... she’s not my cat, he said, his voice suddenly forceful, and he pinned Marsh with his gaze. I just rescued her. I mean, I can keep her until we find her a home. And one for the... the kittens. But....

He trailed off, his gaze drifting back down to the cat, and Marsh just smiled. Keeping an eye on her for a little while isn’t a lifetime commitment, Brad. Have a seat. I’ll get those scrubs.

He watched a moment as Brad finally pulled up the offered chair and sat down, all his attention on the animal in front of him. Marsh shook his head, still smiling as he stepped out of the room. I know a new pet owner when I see one.

––––––––

Another hour of snappish animals and even more snappish owners later—Is it a full moon or something?—Marsh made it back to check in on Brad and the cat. He knocked softly before pushing the door open to find Brad, now dressed in a set of scrubs one of the assistants had dug out of a box in the back room, just lifting his head from where he’d obviously had it pillowed on his folded arms on the edge of the table.

Hey, Doc, he said, one side of his mouth curving up. I think maybe Fluffy here’s about ready to pop.

Marsh chuckled as he stepped forward