“You can have a seat on the bumper or you can have a seat inside the rig on the gurney. Whatever will make you more comfortable.”
No way in hell I’m getting in the back of the ambulance so I sit on the bumper instead and let her do her assessment.
The whole thing is over fast.
Much faster than my heartbeat calms.
Hayes and his team filter out of the building, pulling off their gear and gathering up their tools.
Someone says, “Minor damage—good save,” and claps Hayes on the back, but I note he’s not really paying them much attention. His eyes are already searching the crowd for me.
The minute he spots me sitting on the bumper of the ambulance wearing an oxygen mask as a precaution, he comes jogging over.
His jaw is tight while his eyes scan me like he’s checking for burns, injuries, or smoke inhalation. As if the paramedics didn’t already do just that.
“You okay?” His voice is low. Too steady. Too controlled.
I nod, except it’s not really a nod—more like my head bobbing on a weak hinge. “Fine. I’m fine. Just… startled.”
“Vitals are good. She declined our offer to take her to the hospital for a chest x-ray to check for smoke inhalation,” the paramedic rats me out.
“Em.” He raises a brow and closes the distance between us in three slow steps.
“Don’t you ‘Em’ me. I wasn’t in there that long before you came barreling in with your fire fighter friends. I. am. fine.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
I look down. They are. Violently.
“Well, whatdyaknow?” A laugh escapes in a desperate attempt to hide my nerves. It’s the best I can manage because I’m two seconds away from completely falling apart.
He takes my hands in his and stands closer than anyone probably should, but he’s Hayes, and right now being this close feels like the safest spot in the world.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he murmurs. It’s not accusatory. It’s not dramatic. It’s raw.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whisper, embarrassed by how weird my voice sounds with the oxygen mask still on.
“I know.” His hands remain steady overtop of mine. “Looks like it might have been faulty wiring.”
I pull the mask off and set it beside me. “Yeah. It—uh—it sparked. The outlet’s been acting weird, but I just…” My throat tightens. “…I just thought it could wait until after the holidays.”
Hayes exhales through his nose, the kind of breath that’s equal parts relief and frustration.
“This building’s old, Em. If something looks off, you tell someone. You tellme.”
I blink. “You?”
He gives me a look that is somehow exasperated, tender, and entirely too intimate all at once.
“Yes. Me. Preferably before there’s smoke involved.”
My laugh comes out shaky. “Okay. Point taken.”
“There’s a scorch mark on the wall, soot on the counter, and the whole place smells like smoke. You’re not going to be able to open tomorrow.”
My bottom lip trembles. “But…I have to! I’ve got orders to fill and the people of Mistletoe Bay count on us for their morning caffeine and carb fix!”
“It’s not negotiable, Emmy. Fire Marshall isn’t going to allow it.” He lets go of my hands only to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ll fix this,” he says.
