At First Spark (The Spark Brothers Book 4) Read online

  Danica wrinkled her nose. She opened her mouth, then closed it. After another moment of hesitation, she finally replied, “I ruined the moment we were having. The one where you and I seemed to finally be on the same page about this—us—whatever it is that we’ve been dancing around. Figuratively dancing, I mean.”

  Darren gulped. There was no dodging the issue now. Danica had laid all the cards on the table and was waiting for an answer. The seconds ticked by as she looked up at him, a line forming between her furrowed brows. But for the life of him, he didn’t know what to say.

  She quickly stiffened in his arms. She dropped her hands from around his neck and stepped out of his embrace. “I-I told you it was silly.”

  Darren’s heart clenched to hear her voice wavering. He hated being the cause of her embarrassment. “Danica, don’t go.”

  The area around them suddenly became more crowded as a new song began and more people stepped onto the dance floor. With only an arm’s length of space between them and the surrounding couples, Danica literally had no place to turn. She looked around for a path to take back to their table, but an older, gray-haired couple bumped into her, pushing her straight toward Darren.

  “Oof!” She landed firmly against him, her hands bracing herself against his chest. Once she steadied herself, she looked up, mortified. “I promise I’m not trying to throw myself at you. I would never do that. Not when it’s obvious you’re not interested in me.”

  Darren scoffed. She had it wrong, all wrong. But did he dare reveal his feelings for her? Then again, he couldn’t very well let her go on believing that he didn’t care.

  Darren reached for her hand, but she stepped away, far from his reach. “Danica, please. It’s not like that.”

  “Then what is it like?”

  Darren’s heart pounded under her curious gaze. There was no roundabout way out of this messy situation, only a direct one. He licked his lips, then spoke from his heart. “It’s not that I’m not interested. I mean, how could I not be? You’re amazing, Danica. You’re smart, beautiful, kind, and so easy to talk to.”

  “But?” She faced him squarely now. “I can tell there’s a but coming.”

  “Well ….” He hesitated, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

  “Is it that we don’t have enough in common? Because I think we do. All the important things—our faith in God and what we want for the future—match up.” She cocked her head to one side. “Or do you think I’m too old for you? You should know that age doesn’t matter to me. My mom is actually older than my dad by two years. I know our gap is double that, but I hardly think it makes a difference.”

  He had to smile. She was so endearing with the way she was trying to make her case, her chin raised and eyes flashing with confidence. This was a new side of her, one he hadn’t seen before. And he loved it. Honestly, he loved everything about Danica. “You’re right on both those points.”

  “Then why do you keep pulling away? It feels like every time we get close, you put up a wall. It comes down after a while, but then it goes back up again. I keep getting mixed signals, Darren. I just want to understand.”

  Oh, how he wished there was a way to tell her without going into all the details. He’d been down this road before. He didn’t think he could stomach the pity that was bound to come his way once she knew the truth. So he simply said, “Because you can do better than me.”

  His reply hung in the air between them for a second before her eyes widened. She gasped and placed a hand over her mouth.

  Darren thought she was reacting to his words, but then he noticed her gaze had shifted to somewhere past his right shoulder. He turned around and saw a frightening sight.

  An older woman had her arms around her dance partner who was slumped over her shoulder. Her own posture was hunched as she struggled to keep him upright. The white-haired man, his face ashen, suddenly went completely limp. He crumpled to his knees like a rag doll.

  The woman cried out, “My husband—someone, please help him!”

  Without a moment to lose, Darren leapt into action, diving to catch the man before his head touched the ground. He yelled over his shoulder to Danica, “Call 911!”, then began doing what he did best: saving lives.

  Chapter Twelve

  Danica

  Danica’s hands shook as she hit the emergency call button on her cell phone. She held the phone up, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she wondered if she’d be able to hear whoever picked up. The phone started slipping from her grasp, its plastic case damp from her clammy palm. She tightened her grip and took a shaky breath. Calling 911 was the last thing she had expected to do on her date with Darren.

  An operator answered after the first ring, her voice calm and professional. “911. What’s your emergency?”

  “There’s a man here—I think he might be having a heart attack.” Danica gripped the back of a wooden chair where her purse was hanging from. She had run over to their table as soon as Darren had told her to call for help. The customers who had been sitting nearby were now crowded at the edge of the dance floor. At the center of the square space, she could see Darren’s head as it bobbed up and down in a consistent rhythm.

  “Miss? You said a man had a heart attack? Hello, Miss, are you there?”

  Danica gasped. “Y-yes, sorry, I’m here. The man—he just fell to the ground. M-my friend’s doing CPR now.”

  “Your friend is performing CPR? So, the man is unconscious?”

  Unconscious? She placed a hand to her forehead, trying her best to remember the definition for that word. Think, think, think! Did the operator mean just passed out or not breathing? If the former, then Darren wouldn’t be needing to do CPR, right? If the latter—Danica didn’t want to think about that possibility. But why else would Darren be giving him life-saving procedures? He was a trained firefighter and EMT, so he obviously knew what was required for this situation. Which meant … “The man’s not breathing. Oh my goodness, that means his heart’s not beating!” Danica gasped as the full reality of the situation hit her. “We need an ambulance. Can you send one now, please?”

  “Yes. I need you to tell me your location, Miss.”

  After wracking her brain for the restaurant’s address, Danica relayed it to the operator who responded that an ambulance was on its way.

  Tears of gratitude sprung into Danica’s eyes. “Thank you so much!”

  “Now I need you to remain calm and tell me what’s going on. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Danica approached the crowd, feeling as if she was dragging her feet through mud. Part of her wanted to know what was going on, if Darren’s attempts were working, but the other part of her dreaded finding out. She couldn’t fathom how Darren did this kind of work day in and day out. Life and death stuff were not for the faint of heart. Saying a desperate prayer, she asked the Lord to watch over the man and his wife—oh!

  In all the commotion, Danica had forgotten about the petite Asian woman who had collapsed under the weight of her husband. She looked around the dance floor, spotting her sitting on the floor about an arm’s length away from her husband’s feet. She rushed over, pushing her way past the onlookers, until she reached the woman. “Ma’am, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “Is there another victim, Miss?” The 911 operator asked in her no-nonsense way. “What are her injuries?”

  Danica patted the woman’s arm, trying to get her attention. There was no response, only a blank, glassy-eyed expression as the woman stared at her husband lying on the ground. Her salt and pepper hair, which matched her sparkling black and silver sweater, was now a disheveled mess. She reminded Danica so much of her mom, her heart ached to see her looking so distraught. “It’s the wife of the man who had the heart attack. I think she’s in shock. She’s not answering me. I can’t tell if she’s hurt, but her husband fell on her when he fainted.”

  “Miss, I need you to stay with her. Can you help her lie down, and if possible, raise her leg
s above her head? That will help with her blood flow.”

  “Yes, I can do that.” Holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder, Danica took a hold of the woman’s shoulders and gently brought her back to the ground. She then lifted the woman’s legs and placed them on her lap to elevate them.

  The movements seemed to wake the woman from her stupor because she suddenly grasped Danica’s hand. She blinked a few times as she focused on Danica’s face. In a feeble voice, she asked, “My Harold—is he okay?”

  “Ma’am, my friend is doing all he can to help your husband.”

  “Is the woman responsive now? Can you ask her for her name and also her husband’s,” the operator instructed Danica. “And ask her if her husband has had a heart attack before or any known medical conditions.”

  Danica did as she was told and relayed the information to the operator. “Her name’s Sally and her husband is Harold, age seventy-six. He’s under medication for high blood pressure and high cholesterol, but has no history of heart attacks.”

  “Thank you for the information, Miss. The ambulance should be arriving soon.”

  Soon turned out to be three minutes, but those one hundred and eighty seconds were the longest ones of Danica’s life. She watched with a mixture of awe and horror as Darren continued the chest compressions. With his hands placed on the center of Harold’s chest, he pushed down hard and fast. He kept the pace going, his large biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt each time he flexed. Even without his firefighter uniform on, Darren looked like a hero, completely in control of the situation. His expression, calm and unfazed, impressed her the most.

  He was everything she ever wanted in a man—godly, giving, and not to mention, gorgeous. But Darren had told her, before this crazy medical situation began, that she could do better than him. How? He was the definition of better. In her eyes, he was already the best.

  There was no time to dwell on this paradox because the paramedics started arriving on the scene. Dressed in white-pressed button-down shirts and black pants, they ran over with their bags of medical equipment and a rolling stretcher. One balding man took over Darren’s chest compressions, while a blonde woman set up a portable defibrillator machine. Darren stayed kneeling by Harold’s side as he briefed the first responders on Harold’s situation.

  The voice in Danica’s ear called for her attention. “Miss, are the paramedics there? They should be on the scene by now.”

  “Yes! Yes, they are. Thank you so much for your help.”

  “You’re very welcome.” After confirming there was nothing else Danica needed from her, the 911 operator ended the call.

  Danica felt a tug on her arm and looked down to see Sally reaching for her hand. She clasped the wrinkled hand with both of hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “The paramedics are here now. They’re taking over.”

  Tears fell down the older woman’s cheeks, leaving trails of black mascara under her eyes. “Is Harold okay?”

  “They’re doing everything they can. He’s going to be okay.” Danica hoped with all her heart this was the truth. Because she didn’t know how to tell Sally otherwise.

  The next minute unfolded before Danica’s eyes as if she were watching a medical drama. Everyone cleared the area as the paramedic cut open Harold’s sweater to shock his chest. Once … twice …

  Danica shut her eyes, not having the courage to keep watching. Instead, she began focusing on the first thing that popped into her head: Psalm 23. With Sally clinging to her hand, Danica recited the passage she’d memorized from her years attending Sunday School. About mid-way, Sally joined in, too.

  By the time they got to the last verse about dwelling in the house of the Lord, Danica felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over her. Like cool water, God’s comfort poured over her, dousing all her fears. She opened her eyes to the sound of applause as everyone around her cheered. Her gaze traveled up to where Darren now stood, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. His relieved smile was all she needed to know everything was all right.

  Sure enough, the paramedics were now loading Harold—who was alert with his eyes open—onto the stretcher.

  “He’s okay, Sally!” Danica cried out. “Harold’s okay!”

  “Oh, thank you, Jesus!” Sally declared, the color finally returning to her cheeks. She gave Danica a warm embrace. “Thank you, dear, for staying with me.”

  “Of course.”

  Before Danica could speak another word, a paramedic rushed over to talk to Sally, and eventually escorted her off the premises to join Harold in the ambulance.

  Danica rose to her feet, suddenly feeling the full effects of the ordeal weighing on her whole being. She was drained and exhausted, inside and out. The muscles in her neck and shoulders were stiff and sore. Her limbs felt like Jell-O. And there was a growing ache in her head from the pressure building behind her eyes.

  On the verge of losing control emotionally, she searched the crowd for Darren, desperately needing to see his calm face. Not a moment too soon, he approached her, and placed his large hands on her shoulders. She promptly fell into his arms and buried her face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent of soap mixed with the woodsy smell of his aftershave. Sheltered in his strong, comforting embrace, her tears began to fall.

  At this point, Danica didn’t care that her eyes burned, or her nose was runny. She just needed to get her emotions out. Darren seemed to understand this. He ran one hand up and down her back as she sobbed. They stayed this way for a while as the other patrons around them returned to their tables. The sounds of chair legs scraping against the wooden floor filled the room, followed by voices and silverware clanging against plates. The restaurant’s celebratory mood returned when the band began singing again, this time with the accompaniment of a keyboard.

  Danica wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, how they had looked death in the face not ten minutes ago, yet here they were back to normal. She couldn’t be the only one dealing with the aftereffects. Pulling away from Darren, she looked around the room. She shook her head in disbelief, murmuring more to herself than anyone else, “That’s it?”

  Darren cocked his head to one side as he tried to meet her gaze. He seemed to understand her bewilderment because he simply replied, “That’s it. Life goes on.”

  “B-but we saw a man die. You did CPR on him. Then they shocked him and now he’s back?” She scoffed, not believing the words coming from her mouth. “How can you stay so calm? You didn’t even look scared. I can’t believe you do this for a living.”

  He shrugged. “You get used to it. You go through a checklist in your head of what you need to do, and you get it done. And the whole time, you pray to God for help.”

  Wiping away her tears, Danica simply stated, “I’m in awe, that’s all I can say.”

  “I’m in awe of you, too.” Darren beamed. “You did a great job calling 911, and you kept his wife calm throughout the whole ordeal.”

  “Me?” Her voice rose incredulously. “What are you talking about? Did you not see me lose it just now?”

  “That’s to be expected. But it’s the moments during the crisis that matter. You did amazing, Danica. I’m so proud of you.” And with that declaration, Darren leaned in and planted a soft peck on her forehead, his warm lips lingering for a moment.

  It wasn’t the kiss Danica had been wanting, but it meant everything to her in that moment. Most of all, it gave her a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could long for more.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Darren

  It had been a long, long night for Darren. After driving Danica back, he’d returned home, thrown on a pair of sweats, and crashed into bed. Nightmares kept him tossing and turning for hours until sunshine peeked in through the blinds of his bedroom window. Although bright, the sun’s light provided him with the warmth and comfort he needed to relax. He threw one arm over his head and focused on taking slow, deep breaths. The adrenaline coursing through his body had finally run its course, a
llowing him to fall asleep.

  When he woke some time later, it was to the sound of his phone buzzing. After untangling himself from his blanket, he reached over the side of his extra-long twin size mattress to grab his phone off the carpet. Several text messages appeared on the screen, each one from Fuego. An image of Danica’s bright blue eyes flashed through his mind, making his heart pound.

  Was she still distraught from last night? Had she had a hard time sleeping, too?

  Life and death situations were a lot to handle for first-hand witnesses. If a trained professional like him still struggled with these experiences, he understood how stressful it would be for a layperson. He was glad Danica was texting him, so he could see how she was doing.

  And honestly, he appreciated any chance to interact with her.

  He read her texts: Good morning! How did you sleep? A smiley face emoji appeared last.

  Okay, he typed in reply, sitting up. He threw a pillow against the headboard and leaned back into it. How about you?

  Not so good. It took me a long time to unwind. I’m still tired. She added a sleepy face emoji with three letter Z’s over its forehead.

  His chest tightened. I’m sorry to hear that. You went through a lot last night. He frowned, wishing there was more that he could do to help Danica recover. Do you want to talk about it?

  His phone immediately vibrated with an incoming call. He answered with a chuckle. “I guess that’s a yes?”

  Danica’s sweet, lively voice came over the line. “Yes, please. Oh my goodness, Darren, I still can’t believe you saved a man’s life last night!”

  “Helped save his life. It was the paramedics who did the most important job.”

  “You’re much too modest. I did some research online after I got home last night, and all the websites say that bystander CPR more than doubles the chances of a victim surviving cardiac arrest.”

  “You really did your research.” Darren could picture the cute way her nose wrinkled when she was trying to get a point across. “I’m just thankful everything went smoothly. It was really a team effort. You, me, the 911 operator, and the paramedics—we all played a part.”