“Let her do it.” This time the voice from behind her was Ambrose’s. He approached, removed his turnout jacket and handed it to her. “She’s just off duty.”
Riya grabbed the coat, while the other two firefighters looked at each other. They came to some kind of understanding, because they moved aside so Riya could squeeze through the small opening.
Ambrose caught her eye. “Be as quick as you can, and watch that you do not go too far over to the kid’s side. Your weight could tip the car over the rail.”
“Yes, sir.” She approached the car and saw that the child, not more than two or three, was awake. Good news. They may not need the chopper after all. She gingerly squeezed her upper body through the opening.
“Hey, there. I’m Riya. I’m going to take you to your mommy, okay?”
The child was crying, but he nodded.
“Great.” Riya nodded, smiling. She slowly crept closer. The child appeared uninjured from her vantage point, but she couldn’t be sure. She leaned toward him, her arm outstretched to reach the seat-belt release. The car creaked and shifted, jolting Riya and the child. The child started wailing for his mother, and Riya couldn’t blame him. Her heart was racing, sweat pouring off her.
“Guys?” she called to the firefighters outside.
“Make it quick, Desai,” Ambrose called back to her.
“Yes, sir.” She shifted her weight so she was in farther, but not on the child’s side. That gave her just the inch she needed to release the seat belt, and it did so with a satisfying click and whiz while it retracted.
“Got the seat belt undone,” she called out. She reached for the boy. “Let’s go to Mommy.”
Thankfully, at the wordMommy, he reached toward her, and Riya was able to grab his arms. She pulled him from the car seat and rolled over onto her back as she held him toward the small opening.
“Grab him!” she screamed.
A pair of hands grabbed the boy and carefully maneuvered him through the opening. Once he was through, Riya slid herself out.
The boy’s mother, a bandage on her head, was running toward them. She passed Dhillon, then Ambrose, finally stopping in front of the burly firefighter holding her child.
“Kai! Oh, my baby.” She examined him, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you.” She squeezed him to her chest. “Thank you so much.” She glanced around the group. A paramedic came by and led her back to the ambulance to check out the child.
Riya sagged in relief. She glanced at Dhillon. His face was ashen, but his smile was broad. She took off Ambrose’s turnout jacket and handed it back as they left the area. “Thanks.”
Ambrose leaned in to whisper in her ear. “For someone who quit, you sure do work a lot. Now leave, before I get in trouble.”
“Yes, sir.” She started to walk away from the scene, hyperaware of Dhillon’s presence beside her. Great. She was sweaty and dirty—in a dress—and she was walking next to Dating Dhillon.
Oh, and yeah. She wanted her job back.
thirty-nine
DHILLON
Riya’s dress was ripped and laced with dirt. She lifted the tangled mess of her hair and secured it in a hair tie, but a few tendrils didn’t make it, and they stuck to her face. Her makeup was smeared, leaving black smudges under her eyes.
She was stunning.
The whole thing: the dog, the child... Not once during either of those situations had she panicked. She had assessed and moved forward. She was the poster child for calm, cool and collected.
She looked like she glowed from within with satisfaction from a job well done.
He, on the other hand, had been a selfish asshole.Damn it.He hated when his sister was right.
But it was true: Riya was made to be a firefighter.
“Guess you’re late for your date.” She side-eyed him, a smirk on her face. Traffic was still at a standstill, but now that the worst was over, it would get moving shortly.
He was taken aback. “Who said I was going on a date?”
