Breathless

Featured Author: Tara Grace Ericson

If someone stabbed me with a fork right now, I would probably say thank you. I slide the seam of the napkin against the pad of my thumb again, glancing toward the kitchen. Maybe the waiter will come over and interrupt James, who is still droning on across from me. Something about crypto? I’d tuned him out about three pieces of complimentary bread ago and he had yet to notice.

“It’s all about positioning yourself before the wave hits.”

“Mmm.” I reach for my water. How much bread will they actually give us if I just keep eating? It isn’t especially good bread, but if my mouth is full maybe I won’t say all the not-so-kind things running through my mind.

He’d ordered for me without asking. I’d started to remind him about my allergy, but he’d already handed both menus back to the waiter. I’d already told him, anyway. Twice, actually. Once over text when he suggested the Thai place, and once in the parking lot when he steered us toward this restaurant instead.

The creamy pasta arrives with a scattering of fresh herbs across the top, glossy with olive oil, and I pick up my fork. It looks beautiful. It smells incredible. And if I’m not going to find true love on this blind date, I am at least going to find myself deep in a carb coma.

Three bites in, my lips start tingling.

I set my fork down slowly.

“—which is why I liquidated everything in April,” James says. “Timing is everything. You have to know when to move.”

“James.” My voice sounds strange. I press my fingers to my neck. “What was in that pasta?”

“It’s just a pesto alfredo.” He shrugs.

I gasp for air. “Pesto…pine nuts…tree nuts!”

“No, they’re not.” He says it with complete authority. “They’re seeds.”

I want to completely smack him.

The room goes soft at the edges and my throat rapidly shrinks. I fumble for my purse, reaching for the EpiPen I always keep with me. Except, at the last minute I had grabbed my cute gold clutch, full of optimism about this date.

I hadn’t moved the EpiPen.

My stomach drops. Is this how I die? On a bad blind date with a stomach full of mediocre bread?

Someone at a nearby table gets to their feet and moves toward me.

“Hey.” A man crouches beside my chair, one hand light on my arm. A slight accent softens the word. Dark eyes, deep and steady, meet mine. “Look at me. Allergy?”

I nod. I can’t breathe, but maybe that’s just a side effect of his devastatingly handsome face.

“EpiPen?” I shake my head, flooded with embarrassment at my lack of preparation. Who has a deadly allergy and forgets their medicine? He is already turning, scanning the room, voice raised. “Does anyone have an EpiPen?”

He moves for a moment and then crouches in front of me again.

“This is going to sting,” he says. “Okay? Look at me.”

Look at him? My pleasure. Maybe lack of oxygen is making me delusional.

Slowly, the world stops listing sideways and the panicked burn in my throat eases.

“There you go.” He stays low, two fingers resting on my wrist, taking my pulse. His accent wraps around the words and makes them feel steadier than they have any right to. “Bien. You’re okay. Paramedics are coming.”

“You’re not a waiter,” I say. A stunning conversationalist, I am not. At least not after a near-death experience.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Off duty firefighter and EMT.” He tilts his head slightly. “Bad night to be off duty.”

“Have to say I’m rather grateful you were.”

That gets a real smile. He has excellent laugh lines.

“Emma.” James materializes somewhere above us. “I really don’t think pine nuts are—”

“James.” The firefighter doesn’t even look up. “Go wait for the paramedics.”

A pause. Then footsteps, retreating.

I exhale.

“Thank you,” I say. “I’m Emily.”

“Matteo.” He settles back slightly, fingers still at my wrist. “Cariño, what were you thinking, letting him order for you?”

“I told him about the allergy,” I protest weakly.

Something moves behind his eyes. “He is not a considerate man.”

I huff in amusement. “I don’t think he even remembers my name.”

“Que tonto.” He says it under his breath, and I laugh—which hurts a little—and which is still the best moment of the entire evening. 

The paramedics come through the door. Matteo stands, then steps back as they move toward me with their kit.

“She’s stable,” he says. “Epi was administered about four minutes ago.”

“I really do think there’s been some confusion,” James says, from somewhere behind them. “Pine nuts are technically —”

Nobody looks at him.

One of the paramedics helps me to my feet, and I gather my purse with as much dignity as I can muster. I know they’ll have to take me to the hospital for additional observation. Matteo catches my eye across the small crowd. He slips me his business card. Minden Rogers Fire Department. 

“Someone should be with you tonight,” he says. “Second reactions do happen.”

I turn the card over. There is a handwritten number on the back.

“Is that medical advice,” I ask, “or an excuse I can use to call you?”

Matteo smiles slowly, his accent curling warm around his next words.

“No excuse needed, bella. Buenas noches.”

“Wait—” James steps forward. “Are you—should I come with you? I could explain to them about the pine nuts—”

“James.” I pat his arm once, the way you’d pat a golden retriever who didn’t know he’d knocked over your coffee. “You’ve done enough.”

I walk out into the cool night air between two paramedics, Matteo’s card tucked in my palm. I am going to call him. Just as soon as I can breathe again.

Tara Grace Ericson lives in Missouri with her husband and three sons. She studied engineering and worked as an engineer for many years before embracing her creative side to become a full-time author. Her first book, Falling on Main Street, was written mostly from airport waiting areas and bleak hotel rooms as she traveled in her position as a sales engineer.

She loves cooking, crocheting, and reading books by the dozen. Her writing partner is usually a good cup of coffee or tea. Tara unashamedly watches Hallmark movies all winter long, even though they are predictable and cheesy. She loves a good “happily ever after” with an engaging love story.

That’s why Tara focuses on writing clean contemporary romance, with an emphasis on Christian faith and living. She wants to encourage her readers with stories of men and women who live out their faith in tough situations.

Tara loves to hear from her readers. Connect with her on Facebook, Instagram, X (Twitter), YouTube, or sign up for her newsletter to receive two exclusive ​short stories and a free audiobook.