Page 28 of Melting for the Firefighter
“She’s healing.”
“And living with you.”
“Temporary.”
The word tastes wrong.
Jordan hears it too.
“Sure.”
“Wash the damn engine.”
“I am washing it.”
He turns the hose toward the front tire, still grinning.
Zain stands inside the open bay with coffee black enough to strip paint. He takes one look at me and nods toward his office.
I follow.
He shuts the door behind us.
“How is she?”
“Good.”
“How are you?”
“Good.”
He leans against the edge of his desk. “Strong conversation.”
“What do you want, Chief?”
“Cora depends on you for a place to sleep. You’re twelve years older, twice her size, and she nearly died two nights ago.”
My spine stiffens.
“I would never hurt her.”
“I know.”
The simple answer cuts through the anger before it can take hold.
Zain lifts his coffee.
“Make sure she knows she has choices. Protection turns into control fast when fear is making the decisions.”
I look at the scar disappearing beneath his collar.
He knows more about bringing a woman home after a fire than most men. Knows what it is to watch someone fragile walk into his ordered life and make staying detached impossible.
“She has choices.”
“Good.” He drinks his coffee. “Then tell her what yours are.”
My jaw tightens. “Meaning?”
