Page 33 of Falling For You

I checked the number on the side before I checked the building.

Station 108. Different crew, different faces. Thank God.

Doug and I worked the perimeter, keeping the sidewalk clear, confirming the evacuation, talking to the building manager. I knew the 110 wasn't around, but still, every time a firefighter in turnout gear walked out of the building, I checked the face before I could stop myself. A tall guy came through the front doors carrying a halligan tool, and my whole body tensed until I saw a jaw that wasn't his and a build that was wrong.

"Walsh." Doug was watching me. "Are you good?"

"Yeah."

He gave me a look, didn't say anything else, then went back to the building manager.

The call wrapped in twenty minutes. False alarm—a faulty sensor on the second floor. I finished my notes in the cruiser while Doug texted Diana.

It went on like that for days. Every shared scene, I scanned the engine number first and the call second. Firefighters in my peripheral vision got a face check before I could think about it. I was spending more energy on Wyatt Brooks's absence than I ever spent on his presence, and I could feel it wearing me down by the end of every shift.

Elliot taught me what men do with your secrets. He held mine for four years and then used them to make me feel small. I had no reason to believe Wyatt Brooks would be any different, and every reason to assume the worst.

I went to the department store on my day off for shelf brackets and a curtain rod. The house still had bare windows in the bedroom, and I'd been putting it off because there was always something more pressing. A report to finish, a shift to cover, something that mattered more than home improvement.

I was comparing bracket sizes when I heard a child's voice from two aisles over.

"Daddy, can I get this one?"

"We already have twelve of those at home, Birdie."

Wyatt Brooks was in the store. I grabbed the brackets and moved to the next aisle for the curtain rod. The sooner I had what I needed, the sooner I was out the door.

I told myself he'd be too busy shopping with his daughter to come looking for a conversation. I was wrong.

"Officer Walsh."

I closed my eyes.

"Brooks." I turned around.

He was standing at the end of the aisle, grin already in place. T-shirt and jeans, hands in his pockets, looking at me like running into me was the best thing that had happened to him all day.

"Haven't seen you all week. Has Vegas been behaving itself?"

"Not really. But sure."

He laughed. "We went to The Lantern the other night. I was hoping you'd be there."

"I've been busy."

His mouth closed. He looked at me for a second, and when he spoke again the joke was gone from his voice.

"Andy, if this is about the package, I'm not going to tell anyone. Your secret's safe with me."

I searched his face for the punchline. Any proof that he was joking. It never came.

"Daddy!" Birdie came around the corner with a fistful of glow sticks. She tugged on his arm and held them up for inspection, already mid-argument about which colors they needed.

Wyatt crouched to her level. The man who'd just been standing in front of me disappeared into a father. He listened to her entire case for the glow sticks, nodded seriously, and stood back up.

He looked at me one more time. "I hope we see you at The Lantern soon. Or the gym. Travis and the guys have been asking about you."

He took Birdie's hand and walked back toward the costume aisle, already listening to whatever she was telling him.