Page 29 of Igniting Her

“You make sex sound like a mutual-aid agreement.”

“Then listen as if one of us may have to rely on it.” Cassie remained standing. She had a mug in front of her but did not touch it. “This happens off shift only. Here, not at your apartment and nowhere either of us could be seen arriving together. Nobody at the station knows. Nobody.”

“Understood,” Ellie replied.

“At work, nothing changes. I make assignments based on the incident and the crew. I evaluate your performance by the same standard as everyone else. You do not challenge a decision because you’re angry with me personally, and I do not make one because I’m angry with you.”

Ellie looked over the rim of her mug. “That last part was already supposed to be true.”

Cassie’s eyes cooled by a degree. “It remains true.”

“Then we agree,” Ellie said.

“If this touches the job in any way, it ends. Immediately.”

That one Ellie accepted without qualification. Station 12 had become hers too quickly for comfort. The crew had trusted her on a cliff and followed her on a fireline. She would not make them pay for what happened in Cassie’s house. “Yes, of course.”

Cassie’s shoulders eased so slightly Ellie might have imagined it. “No more nights that become mornings. Last night was an exception,” Cassie said.

Ellie glanced at the clock above the stove. “Technically, this morning seems committed to the exception.”

“Ridge.” The surname should not have worked here. It did.

“No sleepovers,” Ellie agreed.

“No questions about the past.” The rain ticked against the glass. Cassie had made the other rules while looking directly at her. This one arrived with her gaze fixed on the untouched coffee. She did not say Calloway. She didn’t have to.

Ellie could have challenged it. Last night had proved she could make Cassie answer if she pressed exactly where the control thinned. The temptation flared and passed. Forcing a locked door was still forcing it, even if the person behind it wanted her.

“No questions,” Ellie said.

Cassie looked up then, searching her face for resistance. Ellie gave her none she could cite. “Those are the terms.”

“All right.”

“All right?” Suspicion sharpened the words.

“You prefer I object?”

“I prefer to know when you intend to.”

Ellie smiled into her coffee. “That seems optimistic.”

Cassie’s mouth nearly moved. She stopped it, but the effort warmed something in Ellie anyway. “Your clothes are dry,” Cassie said.

“I noticed.” Ellie set down the mug. “Thank you.” The words were simple.

Cassie received them with more discomfort than she had received Ellie’s anger. “You couldn’t drive home in wet clothes.”

“Right. Basic emergency management.”

“Exactly.”

Ellie took her clothes to the bathroom. The jeans smelled faintly of Cassie’s detergent, clean and unscented. She dressed slowly, aware of the borrowed shirt against her skin and the ridiculous reluctance with which she pulled it over her head. When she returned, Cassie had rinsed both mugs and set them upside down beside the sink.

No evidence.

Ellie folded the navy shirt and left it on the chair. Cassie watched her do it.