“Me too.”
“And thanks for the heads up. Busting up this trafficking ring is going to look real good come promotion time,” he says with a wink toward Burke. “Also, if anybody asks, you were on scene first and went in before we could stop you.”
“Copy that,” Burke replies.
Curtis nods. “Get her down to the station to take her statement,” he says, then offers me a small smile. “Then get her home and take care of her.”
“I plan on it,” Burke replies.
With his arm around my shoulders, Burke leads me out of the warehouse. Cole and his men are sitting on the ground in various states of consciousness. They are lined up loosely and cuffed. Burke tenses, turns to them, and I get the idea he wants to run over and give them all another kick in the head.
He controls himself, though, and instead leads me to his SUV. He opens the door and helps me into the passenger seat, then walks around and climbs in behind the wheel. He turns to me, and his expression softens.
“You sure you’re up for this?” he asks. “I can ask Curtis?—”
I shake my head. “Let’s just get this over with,” I say, then smile softly. “Then go home.”
The idea of going home with Burke feels good. It feels right. And something in his eyes makes me think he feels the same way. He reaches over and gently picks up my hand and kisses the back of it, his eyes fixed on mine.
“Sounds good, works for me,” he says.
13
CHAPTER 13
BRYNN
“Come here,” he says.
My hair’s still wet from the shower, and I’ve a fluffy robe wrapped around and my arms folded over it, but I feel a faint smile form as I sit down beside him on the edge of the bed. Burke opens a small box and then lays my hands on his thigh. He pulls out a tube and offers me a small, tight smile.
“This might sting a bit,” he says.
“What is it?”
“It’s a disinfectant,” he replies. “You rubbed the skin around your wrists pretty raw.”
I wince as he applies the ointment, gently rubbing it into the abrasions on my skin. But the pain quickly ebbs, replaced by a cool sensation. After that, he delicately wraps bandages around my wrists, using small clips to cinch them snugly.
“That okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. It’s good,” I say with a small laugh. “Wow. You cook, you clean, you tend wounds, you’re a regular hero?—”
“ Just, ‘regular’?”… I sigh. “No, I’m no kind of a hero.”
I raise my hand and lay it against his cheek, staring deep into his honey-colored eyes. “You saved my life, ‘TIPCI’. Several times. And you didn’t do it for any kind of reward. You did it because it was the right thing to do,” I say. “That’s the definition of a hero.”
“Hey, what, tipsy?I’ve not had even one drink… um, maybe one.” I pull back and look at her. “Think you need a lie down, baby”
“No, no, I decided my nickname for you is ‘TIPCI’ — it stands for: Thoughtful. Intelligent. Protective. Caring. Intense. That’s you, Burke”
“TIPCI, an anagram, eh? Well, you can call me whatever you like, baby. If you love it, then so do I, and I’m sure it’ll grow on me. Just don’t label me a hero.”
I scratch my head and then add, “And let’s just keep the nickname private, between us, would that be OK with you?”
“Of course, my dearest TIPCI, maybe it’ll even become my safe word. If I ever need one. That or… caramel macchiato.”
He lowers his eyes and shakes his head as he puts his antiseptic back into the box and closes it. Burke is clearly uncomfortable with the idea that he’s a hero, which is kind of adorable. But it’s true. He’s a hero in my eyes. My hero.
