Rescuing the Paramedic's Heart Read online

  Their brother, Jet, who was sandwiched between Lily and Poppy in the family order, worked as a lifeguard, employed by the local council to patrol Bondi Beach and neighbouring Tamarama and Bronte beaches. It was a full-time job and one that Poppy knew he loved. Jet’s personality was perfectly suited to the role—every day was different, the job kept him fit, he was surrounded by blokes but had plenty of female attention. Some of the aspects appealed to Poppy—namely the excitement and variety—but it wasn’t a career she wanted. The financial reward wasn’t generous enough for her and job security was another factor. Jet had to prove his physical fitness every year—that wasn’t a problem for him, he was a professional athlete as well and trained hard, but while Poppy maintained her fitness for her career as a paramedic she felt that having to pass a test every year to keep her job would be stressful.

  ‘So, how was the drive?’

  ‘Fine.’ Poppy had split the long drive south from Queensland to New South Wales over two days to make it manageable. ‘I didn’t have any dramas but it was a little lonely. It would have been nice to share it with Craig.’ Craig’s employer was transferring him to Sydney and Poppy had applied to join the New South Wales Ambulance service in order to move with him. But Craig was currently busy on a large project that had delayed his move and Poppy had found herself relocating to Sydney ahead of him.

  ‘Has he booked a flight to come down for a weekend?’ Lily asked.

  Poppy shook her head. ‘Not yet. He said he’ll come down in a fortnight’s time. I’m hoping that will give me time to line up a few rentals to look at when he’s here.’

  ‘What does his time frame look like now? Is he still thinking his move will be a few months away?’

  Poppy nodded. ‘He doesn’t think he’ll get here for another three months. He reckons he’ll need to work through Christmas and won’t be able to move until the end of January. One or the other of us will travel up or down every two or three weeks.’ Poppy shrugged and added, ‘Lots of couples have long-distance relationships, it’ll be fine.’ It wasn’t until she saw Lily’s stricken expression that she realised what she’d said. ‘Sorry, Lil, I wasn’t thinking.’

  Poppy waited for Lily’s response to her apology but Lily was silent, her face blank. Lily and her husband had been living separately for almost two years. Otto was in London, doing his medical speciality training, and Lily should have been there with him, but their plans had gone awry and Lily had come home.

  ‘How is Otto?’ Poppy asked, filling the silence.

  ‘Can we not talk about this now?’ Lily said as she stood and picked up their empty mugs. Poppy knew she was using the activity as a means of avoiding eye contact. ‘I need to get to work.’

  ‘Of course.’ Poppy didn’t want to upset her further. She’d hoped Lily and Otto would have made some progress in healing their relationship or, if that wasn’t possible, at least made some progress in deciding how they were going to move forward. She knew their separation was about more than just physical distance but she also suspected the distance was making things more difficult. She hoped they would eventually be able to resolve their differences and while she wasn’t about to insist that Lily talk to her right now she did make a mental note to broach the topic again. She needed to check on Lily’s well-being.

  * * *

  Poppy changed into her bikini, shorts and a T-shirt as Lily left for work. She’d go to the beach for a quick swim, she decided, say hi to her brother and then come back and make a start on dinner.

  She checked her phone for what felt like the hundredth time as she slid her feet into her flip-flops. Still nothing. She tossed it back on the bed. She wouldn’t take it to the beach as she wasn’t planning to be gone for long. If Craig called while she was out, she’d call him back later.

  She left her car parked on the road in front of the house and walked down Edward Street towards the beach. After consecutive six-hour days in the car, driving from Brisbane to Sydney, she needed to stretch her legs and the fifteen-minute walk to Campbell Parade would help to clear the cobwebs.

  She turned onto the pedestrian path and walked along the promenade past the skate park and the mural wall towards the lifeguard tower.

  She stopped before she reached the tower and leaned on the railing and looked out over the beach. The sun was behind her and the sea shone in the afternoon light. The sand was crisp and white and, despite the fact that it was not yet the summer holidays, the beach was busy. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the sea air, and stood for a moment, enjoying the feeling of warm sun on her skin as she watched the water.

  The waves were small but she could spot the rips, the deceptively smooth water between breaking waves. She had years of experience as a surfer—growing up in Byron Bay, she and her siblings had learned to surf almost before they could walk—but she could see why the tourists and the locals who weren’t familiar with the ocean could be fooled into thinking the rips were safe spots to swim.

  She turned to the south to see if she could pick out Lily’s house perched on the cliff before she spun on her heel and headed for the circular lifeguard tower. She knocked on the blue door and waited, if Jet wasn’t in there someone would be able to tell her where he was.

  ‘Poppy! You’re here.’ Jet grinned as he swung the door open. His welcoming smile was wide, his perfect teeth white and even in his tanned face. His blond hair was pulled back into a messy man bun but that was all Poppy had time to absorb before he stepped out of the tower and wrapped her in a tight hug. He stood well over six feet tall, and even with his slim but muscular athlete’s build he managed to make her feel small. She was five feet seven inches, not short for a girl, but Jet made her feel petite.

  He released her and dragged her into the tower where he introduced her to the other lifeguards.

  ‘Guys, this is my little sister, Poppy. Poppy, meet the guys—Gibbo, Bluey and Dutchy.’

  Poppy smiled at Jet’s use of the guys’ nicknames.

  ‘Are you going to hang around here for a while?’ he asked as Poppy finished saying hello.

  ‘No, I just wanted to say hi. I’m going to have a swim and then head home. I hear you’re coming for dinner.’

  Jet nodded and looked as if he was about to say something else when the radio on the desk crackled into life.

  ‘Central, this is Easy. We’ve got a problem down here, south of the flags.’

  He held up one hand in Poppy’s direction, asking her to wait as he grabbed the radio. ‘Go ahead, Ryder.’

  ‘The tourist I pulled from Backpackers’, he’s not looking great. I’m bringing him back to the tower for an assessment.’

  Poppy’s ears pricked up as she listened to the exchange. Ryder was an unusual name. She’d only ever known one and he had been Jet’s best friend when they were at high school. He’d also been her first crush. But the Ryder she’d known had moved away when he was seventeen, breaking her young, impressionable heart in the process—although she’d kept that to herself—and she hadn’t seen him since.

  It couldn’t be him, though, could it? Surely Jet would have said something.

  ‘Ryder?’ she said as Jet put the radio down.

  ‘Yeah, Ryder Evans, you remember him?’

  Of course she remembered him.

  She could feel herself colouring as she thought about the last time she’d seen him. She hoped Jet didn’t notice the blush she could feel creeping up her neck.

  She nodded. ‘You never told me he was in Sydney.’

  ‘Didn’t I?’ Jet shrugged. ‘Probably figured you wouldn’t care, you haven’t seen him for the best part of twelve years,’ he said over his shoulder as he went to open the door to the tower.

  He had a point. He wouldn’t think it was important. It wasn’t important really, although that didn’t stop a frisson of nervousness from shooting through her at the thought of seeing him again. She ha
dn’t thought about him for years, had finally let the idea of him go, yet at the mere mention of his name all the old feelings rose to the surface along with all the memories of how much he’d meant to her teenage self. She could instantly recall all her teenage fantasies and the memories made her blush.

  The lifeguard buggy pulled to a stop at the bottom of the metal stairs that led from the sand to the tower entrance and Poppy’s jaw dropped as a lifeguard jumped out. Tall and muscular, tanned and fit.

  Was that Ryder?

  She managed to close her mouth as she watched him help his patient out of the buggy and up the stairs.

  She hung back, out of the way, as Ryder got the man into the tower and onto the treatment plinth. Jet went to assist, instructing Bluey to keep an eye on the beach. Poppy stayed near the desk by the windows. The lifeguards had a job to do and she didn’t want to be a nuisance but staying out of the way also gave her a chance to check Ryder out unobserved. She knew he hadn’t noticed her, he was too focussed on his patient.

  The last time she’d seen him there had been a hint of the man he would become, of the man waiting to emerge, but he’d still been a gangly teenager. He’d been tall but he’d yet to have a fast growth spurt or develop the muscle definition that would come with adulthood. But all traces of adolescence had disappeared now. Now there was no hiding the man. And no ignoring the feeling of warmth that was spreading through her belly and into her groin. Poppy leaned on the desk, taking the weight off her suddenly shaky legs.

  Fortunately Ryder had his back to her and wouldn’t be aware of her reaction but she was very aware of him.

  He’d grown even taller and he’d definitely filled out. He’d developed muscles where he hadn’t had them before. He wore only a pair of black boardshorts with ‘Lifeguard’ emblazoned across his hips and she had plenty of opportunity to admire the view of sculpted muscles and smooth, tanned skin. His shoulders were broad, his biceps bulging, his waist narrow. He looked fit. He looked healthy. He looked magnificent.

  She ran her gaze up the length of his spine and up his neck. She could see where the knobs of his vertebrae disappeared into his hair. He’d always had amazing hair, dark blond and thick, and at almost twenty-nine years of age it seemed he’d lost none of it.

  Her gaze traced the line of his jaw. It was strong and square. He looked good, even better than she remembered, and she felt another rush of blood to her cheeks as her heart skittered in her chest.

  Her hands gripped the edge of the desk as she observed him, keeping her fixed in place, and she wondered at the involuntary response. Was she stopping herself from crossing the room? While her rational mind might tell her that Ryder’s unexpected appearance was of no consequence, it seemed her body had other ideas. Her palms were clammy and her mouth was dry and she suddenly felt like the sixteen-year-old schoolgirl she’d been when she’d last seen him.

  When she had kissed him.

  And he had kissed her back.

  She knew from talking to her girlfriends that first kisses often weren’t anywhere near as fabulous as they’d dreamed about but the kiss she and Ryder had shared had been everything she’d hoped for and more. It had been the biggest moment of her young life. It had changed her life.

  She’d fallen in love.

  First love.

  She had only been a teenager but that hadn’t made it any less real, any less all-encompassing, any less all-consuming.

  And it hadn’t made it any less painful when he’d walked out of her life.

  CHAPTER TWO

  POPPY KNEW IT hadn’t been Ryder’s choice to leave but she’d spent many days—many months—waiting for him to acknowledge that he missed her as much as she missed him, but she’d heard nothing and the complete lack of contact had left her feeling foolish and embarrassed.

  Their kiss had been everything she’d dreamt of but it obviously hadn’t had the same impact on him. He’d probably forgotten all about it within days. But it had taken her much, much longer and now all those long-forgotten feelings came flooding back.

  The anticipation, the joy and the delight. The spark, the excitement and the satisfaction. The pounding of her heart and the wobbling of her knees. Her nervousness and then her embarrassment over her teenage self and how she’d thrown herself at him. Unfortunately, her embarrassment had become her most powerful memory of the whole experience.

  She hadn’t been rejected as such but it had become fairly clear that she hadn’t had the same lasting effect on him as he’d had on her.

  She assumed he’d forgotten all about it. She could only hope so now. More than likely it was only seared into her memory. At least, if that was the case, maybe she’d get over her discomfiture. It would be difficult otherwise—especially as there was no denying he was now super-hot.

  She stood in the corner of the tower, clutching the desk as if her life depended on it, and listened to the lifeguards’ assessment of the patient as she brought her thoughts back to the present day.

  The patient’s English was far from fluent but even so it was obvious he was complaining of a headache and stomach pain. He was coughing intermittently. Poppy watched as Ryder slipped an oxygen mask over the man’s nose and mouth and then took his blood pressure.

  ‘BP one-forty over ninety. Pulse one hundred. I reckon we should keep him in the tower for observation,’ Dutchy commented.

  ‘Can you open your eyes for me, Tong?’ Ryder asked. ‘I think we should call the ambos just to be sure. He’s drowsy and complaining of a headache. There’s a good chance he’s inhaled sea water and I reckon he’s dehydrated and had a bit too much sun.’ Ryder voiced his concerns about Tong’s rapidly deteriorating condition.

  ‘What do you think, Poppy?’ Jet turned to Poppy.

  Ryder turned too. ‘Hey, Poppy, I didn’t see you there.’

  He smiled at her and she was grateful for the support of the desk. His smile was enough to fan the flames that were already racing through her and if it hadn’t been for the furniture she suspected she’d be a messy puddle of oestrogen on the floor of the tower.

  ‘Hello, Ryder.’

  She did her best to hold his gaze even as she wondered why he was still able to affect her this way. This reaction was exactly why she steered clear of choosing boyfriends based on chemistry. She hated feeling out of control. Hated this feeling of losing control over her senses, her responses and her behaviour. Ever since she’d lost her heart to Ryder all those years ago she’d vowed not to let her emotions or her hormones carry her away again but, apparently, all it took was one smile from him and she felt like she was falling all over again.

  Standing in the tower, clinging to the desk, an image of fairy-tale princesses trapped in castles, waiting for knights to rescue them, sprang to her mind before she told herself she was being ridiculous. She didn’t need rescuing. She was perfectly content with her life. With Craig.

  Yes, Craig. Remember Craig, she told herself. Safe, predictable Craig. He wouldn’t distract her from her goals. He wouldn’t let her down. He hadn’t returned her calls yet but she knew he would. He was dependable. There were no great highs and lows. He was calm, and that was what she wanted. She knew where she was with Craig. She could remain focussed, protect her heart and keep control of her world. Her life was just how she liked it—simple, uncomplicated, safe.

  She realised Jet was waiting with an expectant expression for her answer and she tried to remember what the question had been. ‘Can you give me the history?’ she asked.

  ‘I pulled him out of Backpackers’ Rip.’ Poppy’s question had been directed at Jet but the patient was Ryder’s and he answered. ‘He was completely submerged, not breathing initially, but he recovered spontaneously. He seemed to be okay and I left him with his friends but they came back to me and said he was complaining of a headache, dizziness and stomach pains. He’s vomited a few times too. All typical symptoms of having inhaled
water.’

  His gaze was intense. She remembered that about him. How he used to watch and listen and make her feel like what she said was important.

  ‘How long ago did you get him out of the water?’

  ‘About an hour ago.’

  Poppy knew there was always a risk of secondary drowning if someone was suspected to have inhaled water. Even if the risk was slight, it couldn’t be ignored. ‘I think he should at least be rehydrated and it’s important that he understands the potential dangers of getting water in his lungs. He should probably have an X-ray of his lungs and he should definitely be monitored. Leave the oxygen on and call the ambulance—they can put him on a drip, take him to hospital and keep an eye on him. Given that his English isn’t great, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll call the ambos,’ Jet replied. ‘Dutchy, see if you can explain to Tong and his mates what we’re going to do and, Easy, you’d better get back out on the beach.’

  ‘I’ll get out of the way, too,’ Poppy said to Jet. She knew the lifeguards could cope without her, they did it every day. ‘I’ll go for a swim and see you at Lily’s for dinner.’

  He nodded as he picked up the phone.

  Ryder held the door for Poppy, letting her leave the tower before him. They walked down the metal stairs to the beach as Poppy tried to work out what Ryder was doing in Sydney. And why she was so nervous.

  It was a silly reaction. They weren’t teenagers any more. She didn’t need to be nervous but apparently the old feelings of a first crush, a first love still simmered beneath the surface and didn’t need much stirring to rise to the top.

  Her mind wandered, skittering from past to present at a million miles an hour, taking her attention away from the simple task of walking down a staircase. She missed the bottom step and stumbled as the soft sand gave way beneath her. Before she had a chance to right herself Ryder’s arm was around her waist, holding her, supporting her. Her top was loose, skimming the waistband of her shorts, and his fingers rested lightly on her skin. Her body buzzed under his touch, her skin tingled and her nerves endings sprang to life.