Page 22 of Christmas with Three Firemen

I stand in the doorway of the main conference room in the wake of a meeting with our administrative team and stare out through the glass partition overlooking the apparatus bay.

Below me, the crew moves through their post-incident routines with practiced efficiency. Gear is cleaned, equipment is checked, and reports are filed. Order is restored.

Or mostly restored.

Because Investigator Meadows is currently down there examining evidence bags with the same intensity of a trained bomb squad agent.

My jaw tightens. She had no business entering that apartment fire scene the other day. I don’t care how many city credentials she carries or how many exceptions Deputy Chief Morrison made in department policy for the sake of her so-called assignment.

She walked into an active fire scene without protective equipment. The fact that she was right about the traces of accelerant doesn’t change that. If anything, it makes the whole situation worse. Competence has a way of convincing people they’re invincible, but nobody is.

I know that better than most. I’ve made mistakes before. Awful mistakes that still haunt me, mistakes that cost lives, and the only thing that’s allowed me to move forward is following the correct procedures and knowing that staying within the lines won’t lead me or anyone on my crew astray.

“Cap?”

I glance up to find Wes standing in the doorway. He’s back on duty perhaps a little too soon, but I know he prefers to be here at the firehouse keeping himself busy.

Busy, apparently, keeping our investigator company up on the rooftop. Not that I believe Wes was doing anything unprofessional, but… well, I don’t fucking know. The fact that Meadows has seemingly warmed up to everyone else in this station except for me makes me wonder if I’m the one in the wrong.

Of course, I’m not. She’s the one breaking rules and throwing everything off balance.

“Everything good?” I ask, nodding my chin toward the engine he was inspecting.

“Yeah.”

His gaze flicks down toward the bay below.

Toward Noelle, who is standing off to the side with Rivera and Officer Jackson, sorting through a stack of fire scene photos.

Anyone else might think that Wes is simply checking if he’s needed back down there, but we both know Rivera is a veteran who doesn’t need backup against a pair of city officials hungry for evidence.

“She shouldn’t have gone in there,” I say.

Wes is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t need to ask for clarification on who she and in there are. I swear the guy can read minds, which would probably be unsettling if it wasn’t also convenient.

“Probably not,” he finally answers.

Neither disagreement nor agreement. Just a statement of fact. Classic Wes.

I exhale through my nose. “Get some rest, will you? I feel like I’m working you like a dog.”

He gives me one last knowing look that I choose not to acknowledge, and then disappears back downstairs.

The real problem isn’t just the insubordination, though. It’s something else. Something significantly more inconvenient.

Noelle Meadows arrived at this station only a few days ago and has somehow managed to occupy entirely too much of my attention. It’s unacceptable for me to be so distracted.

She’s intelligent, yes, but also difficult and stubborn. She challenges my orders as if she’s personally offended by the existence of authority. The professional part of me finds that exhausting. The rest of me…

Nope. I shut that thought down immediately.

I have a station to run, a crew to protect, and an investigator sleeping under my roof because somebody out there might be trying to burn us alive. There is no room in that equation for something as trivial and useless as attraction.

A knock sounds on the open door of the room, causing me to jump. I blink, not realizing I lost focus on the scene below, and can no longer pinpoint Meadows’ location.

Which might be mildly concerning, except that when I turn my head toward the sound of the knocking, she’s right there.

She snuck up on me.