“Desai, whoever is leering at you,” he said as his hands fisted at his sides, “sexual harassment is grounds for dismissal.” He pointed firmly to the ground they stood on. “We are a team. And that kind of behavior has no place on my team.” He leaned in closer, and Riya caught a flicker of concern in his face. “Who?”
Riya opened her mouth to retort, but she caught sight of Dhillon.
What the hell was he doing here—again?
seven
RIYA
Scout was nestled contentedly in Dhillon’s arms, but his body was stiff, and a thin sheen of perspiration covered his face as he tried to keep himself together in a place associated with loss and fear.
All her anger at Ambrose melted away and refocused on Dhillon.
“What the hell are you doing here? Come to yell at me again?” She headed for the locker room to grab her stuff, Dhillon trailing behind her. She was ridiculously aware of his presence in a way she wasn’t of anyone else’s.
“No. I’m not here to yell. Riya—”
She stopped at the entrance of the locker room and called out, “It’s Desai. Everybody decent?”
A chorus ofyeses reached her.
She entered, Dhillon still behind her. The guys were in various stages of undress, but everyone was indeed decent...except Walsh. Ian Walsh was walking around stark naked.
Dhillon growled low next to her and took a few steps in the naked guy’s direction, his free hand fisted by his side. Scout wiggled as he clutched her closer. Riya reached out and pulled him back. He looked at her, and Riya’s breath caught.
A vein throbbed at his temple, his jaw clenched under his beard, and a red flush burned under his brown skin. What stopped her was the hard coal-black of his eyes. Gentle, steady Dhillon was ready to do some serious violence to this man.
“Jeez, Walsh. I asked if everyone was decent.” Riya had averted her eyes for her own preservation. She didn’t want to think about this guy naked every time she saw him. Though, clearly, that was what he wanted. She fought to keep her voice steady. She wasn’t about to let him get to her.
Dhillon did not stand next to her, but at her silent request, he did not advance, either. He simply stood a step in front of her. A shield, should she need it.
“I’m decent. This is how I walk around at home.” He grinned.
Anger and defiance raged inside her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see that. “Well, I feel sorry for your girlfriend, because that—” she turned toward him and ran her eyes down his body, a mild scowl on her face “—is a chota lund.” Dhillon let out a small groan only she could hear.
“English, Desai.” Walsh’s eyes darkened in anger.
She widened her eyes, all innocence. “Oh, sorry. Translation,small penis.”
A low chorus ofooohs went around the locker room, and she heard Dhillon suppress a laugh.
Walsh’s face darkened. “You little—”
“Exactly,” she quipped, and the other guys burst into laughter and went about their business. Walsh headed for the showers.
Her heart raced from the confrontation, but she had more important things at hand. She turned back to Dhillon and the emergency that had brought him here. “Why are you here?”
He was still staring at Walsh, passing an angry gaze over the whole locker room. He turned to focus on her. “Your mom had a heart attack.” Scout wiggled again, and Dhillon glanced at her, as if only just now noticing that he was holding her. “Oh, sorry, girl,” he murmured and let her down. She stayed at his feet.
“What?” Riya’s heart thudded against her chest, and she froze in the middle of taking off her suspenders. Her turnout pants dropped, leaving her in leggings. Her stomach turned. Dhillon was braving the firehouse because something awful had happened. She should have expected it; Dhillon wouldn’t come in here for anything less. She shoved what she could into her locker and grabbed her bag without changing clothes.
Dhillon brought his attention back to Riya. “Is this the shit you deal with from these guys?”
“Not all the guys. Just him.” Riya tried to sound matter-of-fact, but the reality was that sexual harassment of any kind was not matter-of-fact. “Other guys,” she mumbled, “have other issues.”
“You should report that one. He’s trouble.”
Maybe she should. But she was new, she was the only woman. She’d deal. “I handled him just fine, don’t you think? Even taught him a couple new words.”
