Page 49 of Wrecked on the Mountain

"Oh, we're not married," she says casually, not looking up from her work. "He's way too grumpy for that."

Too grumpy.

The comment hits me right in the fucking gut like a physical blow.

Because that's what Rebecca said, wasn't it? Not in those exact words, but the sentiment was the same. That I was too serious, too rigid, too set in my ways for someone like her.

Too grumpy for love.

Too grumpy to be worth staying for.

I force myself to focus on securing Robert's extraction route, but Brooke's words keep echoing in my head.

Too grumpy.

Like it's a given. Like of course someone like her wouldn't want someone like me.

"Well," Robert says, clearly trying to lighten the mood, "grumpy or not, you two make a hell of a team. Haven't felt this safe since the accident happened."

The rest of the extraction goes smoothly. Robert's injuries are minor - some bruised ribs, mild whiplash, and a sore shoulder from the impact.

Nothing that requires emergency transport, but Brooke insists on monitoring him for another thirty minutes to make sure there are no delayed symptoms.

While she's taking his vitals one final time, I coordinate with dispatch for a tow truck and make sure the accident scene is properly marked for other vehicles.

Professional. Efficient. Exactly the kind of operation that makes our team proud.

But I can't stop thinking about what Brooke said.

Too grumpy.

Like it was obvious. Like it was a fact of nature that someone like me doesn't get someone like her.

By the time we get Robert situated with Sheriff Cooper who arrives to take his statement and escort him back to town, the sun's starting to set behind the mountains.

Brooke's quiet on the ride back to the station, and I catch myself glancing back at her in the side mirror more than I should.

She's looking out at the landscape with that soft expression she gets sometimes, like behind those amazing, intelligent eyes, she's seeing something the rest of us miss.

When we pull into the garage, it's just after six PM, and the station is quiet except for the hum of the emergency monitoring equipment.

"Nice work out there, Doc," I say as we unload our gear. "That was... impressive."

She looks surprised by the compliment. "Just doing my job."

"No," I say, setting down the medical kit and turning to face her. "That was more than just doing your job. The way you handled Robert, kept him calm while getting all the information you needed... I've worked with a lot of medics over the years. Military and civilian. You're something else."

The way her cheeks flush at the praise makes something warm spread through my chest.

"Thank you," she says quietly. "That... means a lot, coming from you."

We head inside to do the paperwork, and I'm trying to figure out how to bring up what she said earlier without sounding like a complete asshole when she settles at the desk in the main office.

Fuck it.

I slam the door behind us, the sound echoing through the quiet station like a gunshot.

Brooke jolts in her chair, eyes wide. “What—”