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She eyed it stubbornly.
“Really?” I grumped. “For fuck’s sake.” I shook the blanket out and put it around her shoulders, tucking it tight beneath her chin. She didn’t stop me. She didn’t say thank you either. But when I looked down at her and our gazes met, a little of the fire had gone out of hers.
The next few hours were long, but I urged everyone on, pushing them to finish their jobs fast. The fact no one had been injured helped speed things up, and eventually, it was just me and Richards, with Eve watching on.
Richards leaned against the bar top wearily. “Time to go? I’m ready for this shift to be over, and to go home and sleep ‘til the next one.”
The idea of bed sounded amazing. Our shift was supposed to have finished hours ago, but I hadn’t wanted to leave until Eve could get back in. I knew she’d stand out there for days if she had to. I eyed her now and then told Richards to go on without me.
“You sure? You won’t have a way of getting back to the station.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He glanced between me and Eve, and maybe he felt the rising tension the same way I did. But he gave me a small nod. “Got it. See you tomorrow.”
He ducked beneath the police tape, leaving me and Eve alone in a club full of bullet holes.
She stared at me.
“You can come in now. We’re done.”
She ripped the tape and let it fall to the ground at her feet. She wandered the main room, inspecting the damage. It was mostly cosmetic. A large broken window, glass shards glittering on the floor. Holes where bullets had entered plasterboard and sent chunks of it flying. Furniture moved out of place so the investigation could take place.
That was our fault. I pushed a table back to where I remembered it from last time I’d been here.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“It’s just a table.”
“For hurrying the process along. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I did.” She held up the corner of her blanket. “And for getting this for me.”
I stopped what I was doing. “You were cold.”
“I was. It’s warmer in here.” She folded the blanket and put it down on the tabletop. “This place is a mess.”
“I’ll stay and help.”
She shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll call Augie and the others once it’s a reasonable time. They’ll come in and give me a hand.”
“And until then?”
“Until then, I’ve got a club to put back together. Glass will have to wait until after nine, but the walls I can fix myself. I’ve got filler out the back from the last time we painted.” She looked up at me. “So like I said. I’ll be fine. See you around, Boston.”
She lingered for the tiniest of moments, her gaze dipping to my mouth.
My breath hitched.
But then she hardened her gaze and walked away, disappearing into the depths of the club.
I was still standing in exactly the same spot, my lips tingling from her attention on them, when she returned a few minutes later carrying a paint tin, a roller, and an armful of fillers with spatulas.
She dumped them on the table. “You’re still here.”
“I told you, I want to help.”
She held up a tube of something. “Fine. Help then.”
I crossed the room and took it from her, picking up a spatula while I was there. Our fingers touched, her skin soft against the callouses on mine. I had the insane urge to wrap my fingers around hers and hold her hand.
