“Can too. And I know how to prove it.” Rhett snatched his phone off the kitchen counter, his jaw set in a way I’d only ever seen when he was about to do something either incredibly brave or profoundly stupid.
“Who are you calling?” Panic flared through me.
He held up a finger, shushing me as the call connected. “Hey, Chief Ramirez? It’s Donovan. I need to find out what to do to declare a relationship with HR.” He went quiet for a moment. “Yeah, it would affect work assignments. Okay. Got it, we’ll leave now.”
He hung up and pocketed the phone before looking up at me with a challenge in his eyes.
“What the fuck was that?” I demanded, my voice rising enough that Aimee stirred in her sleep.
“That,” Rhett said, his voice low but intense, “was me committing. Officially. On the record. Where it impacts my job and my life in very real ways.” He reached for my hand, threading our fingers together. “I’m not going anywhere, Troy. Not away from you, not back into the closet, not deciding this is just a phase. I’m all in. So all-in that it involves HR paperwork.”
The lump in my throat made it hard to speak. No one had ever done anything like this for me before—put their career on the line to prove their feelings were real. I stared at our joined hands, at the way Rhett’s thumb traced soothing circles against my skin, and felt something fragile and precious crack open in my chest.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious. I’m going to get dressed and tell Aimee we’re leaving, and then we’re going. No arguments.”
“Damn, Rhett, I kind of like you bossy,” I said.
He stepped closer, narrowing his eyes as he sized me up. “Only out of the bedroom. In our bed, I’m your filthy little submissive slut and you better not treat me any different.”
An unexpected laugh burst out of me, the sound a little broken around the edges, and I leaned in to kiss him. He met me halfway, and I pinned him to the wall, shoving his hands abovehis head as I nipped his bottom lip, then nibbled my way down his neck.
“Shit. Why’ve you gotta activate my slut mode when we have to go?” he whined, then huffed out a breath.
I laughed and backed off. “Clean up before we leave, and maybe you’ll get a reward after we get back.”
“And by reward, I can only assume you mean a thorough dicking?” With every teasing word, the tension eased. He wanted me. I needed to stop getting in my head about it.
“Shower and make sure everything is clean.”
“Everything?” If it was possible to perk up even more, Rhett did.
Shaking my head, I shoved him into the bathroom, then wrote a quick note for Aimee, smiling as I realized I was following the format of our previous notes. When Rhett came out, he jumped on the note, adding his own little cartoon, in this case with the two buff firefighters holding hands in front of a desk with a grumpy-looking fire chief on the other side.
“No Aimee?” I asked.
He grinned and added a cartoon Aimee holding cartoon Troy’s hand.
“Perfect.”
“Come on, let’s get there before Chief Ramirez leaves,” he said, cheeks going pink.
Fifteen minutes later, we were seated in front of the Battalion Chief. His desk was surrounded by framed department photos and service awards. Beside me, Rhett’s knee bounced with nervous energy, his usual easy confidence nowhere to be found. I kept my hands clasped in my lap, fighting the urge to reach for him.
Chief Ramirez cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair as he regarded us thoughtfully.
“So.” He paused. “You two are in a relationship.”
Rhett nodded, his throat working as he swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“I appreciate you coming to me directly. Shows integrity. Contrary to what some might think, we don’t have a no-fraternization policy anymore. Those are outdated, and frankly, they don’t work.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “What we do have is a policy about romantically involved personnel working the same shift. And you two work the same shift.”
My shoulders tensed. “Yes, sir.”
“The concern isn’t about the relationship itself. It’s about decision-making during crisis moments. When firefighters are romantically involved, there’s always the risk that personalfeelings could override protocol, that you might prioritize each other over civilians or other crew members.”
“We wouldn’t—” The Chief held up a hand.
