What?

Charlie could feel herself staring at the lady standing on the sidewalk. She should look away, say thank you, and just get back in the rig, but her mind was still back on what the lady had said. Finally, her mouth kicked into gear. “But we were just here this morning. Mr. Langley had cut his hand . . . nice older man.”

The neighbor shook her head. “Bessie Simmons was the last person who lived there, until her family shipped her off to a nursing home months ago. Now, it sits vacant until someone comes around to empty it out.” She frowned. “We haven’t had any trouble in there, though, not until I called you. With all the racket, I thought there might be someone inside needing help.”

Shane nodded, thanking the lady, and then walked back to the rig and picked up the radio. Charlie couldn’t make out every word, but she heard enough to know he was calling it in to HQ and asking for police backup. She looked over at the neighbor, still standing on the sidewalk. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll take it from here.” The lady smiled at Charlie and patted her on the arm and then went back inside her home.

Charlie wandered over to Mr. Langley’s front steps—no, apparently Bessie’s—and sat to wait. Her feet were itching to go inside and find out what the hell was going on, but her common sense had come back online enough at least that she wasn’t about to go walking into an apparently abandoned house that had contained a fake tenant a few hours before. Not without backup, anyway. She frowned as Shane reappeared, plunking down on the step next to her. “What’s going on, do you think?” she asked. “He seemed like such a nice man.” She said the last part quietly, more to herself than anything.

Shane shrugged, handing Charlie her bag, and then setting his down between his feet. “He seemed harmless enough, but he was a bit of a weirdo.” She turned to look at him, and he held his hands up as if in self-defense. “Didn’t mean it that way, honest.” Her eyes narrowed, but there was nothing but sincerity in his gaze. “I mean, there’s gotta be something up to break into someone else’s home and then call 911.”

She looked back out onto the street. The normal, quiet, suburban street. Monroe wasn’t a big city, but it had its fair share of people who found themselves in life’s circumstances. “Could he have been homeless?”

There was that shrug again. “Maybe,” Shane said. “But he looked pretty put together, and what homeless guy eats ham-off-the-bone sandwiches?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Before she could think on it any further, a squad car pulled up. One of the cops she knew, Adam Shaw. The other she didn’t recognize.

Shane stood and Charlie took the hand he offered as she hauled herself up to her feet. “Thanks for coming out, guys,” he said. “Not sure if we really need you, but didn’t want to take any chances.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” the cop she didn’t recognize held out his hand. “Chris Klein. Nice to meet you both.” Charlie shook his hand, introducing herself, and then picked up her bag, following Adam and Chris inside the place. It was as small as she remembered, only taking a few moments for them to clear the entire place. She looked around. The house was pretty much as they’d left it that morning, except that the food items were gone from the kitchen counter. Maybe she’d been right about the homeless part. If Mr. Langley was going through a rough time, it made sense he would have come back for whatever he could. The hospital wouldn’t have kept him long. They’d transported him because he’d asked, but Charlie had been able to tell that the cut really only needed cleaning and bandaging.

Adam caught up with her in the kitchen. “Shane explained what happened this morning. What was the guy’s full name?”

“Langley,” she said. “Herman Langley.”

“During the call, did you sight any ID, mail, anything lying around with a name on it?”

Charlie thought back. Apart from checking out the kitchen, she hadn’t looked much of anywhere except the patient. Mr. Langley had been pretty demanding of her attention. But then, that happened on calls a lot. Sometimes people were scared; other times they just appreciated having someone to chat to. “No, but I wasn’t really looking. Sorry.”

Adam smiled. “No problem. I’ll call it in and see if we can find out what happened to the guy.” He spoke into the radio attached to his shoulder. “Hey, Ellen, could you look up a name for me. Herman Langley. Any records linked to 29 Broad Street?”

While they waited on a reply, Charlie walked around the kitchen, her gaze falling on the various surfaces. The countertop looked clean, but several of the storage cupboards had seen better days. She opened one. The crockery inside was covered with a fine layer of dust. Weird. Adam’s radio squawked to life. “Negative, Officer Shaw. The owner of the property is listed as a Mrs. Simmons.” Adam looked over at Charlie, eyebrow cocked, and she nodded her confirmation. So far, it seemed like the neighbor was right. “Adam,” Ellen’s voice came back over the radio. “There’s no record of a Herman Langley living anywhere near Broad Street in the last ten years. In fact, no one by that name has been registered recently as living in Monroe, period.”

Okay. That wasn’t just weird. That was a little creepy. Still, Charlie forced herself not to jump to conclusions. As well as not being the first patient by a long shot who paid her extra attention, he also wasn’t the first to use a false name. No insurance, some kind of warrant out, or just a past they’d rather forget about . . . there were all sorts of reasons why someone might have changed their name, and not all of them were terrible.

Before she could think on it any further, Shane appeared in the kitchen doorway. “We’ve got another call. Traffic accident out on Cherry Hill Drive.”

Charlie turned to Adam, smiling. “Thanks anyway. Let us know if you find anything else out, can you?”

“Sure thing, Charlie.” Adam said. “Be careful out there, okay?”

She nodded. “You, too.”

* * *

Charlie let out a sigh of relief after they passed their patient over to the intake at the ER. Elaine Monahan had been difficult to manage, to say the least. Charlie had climbed over and into the car to stabilize her neck and spine while the firefighters had freed her from the wreckage. Being the smaller of the two by a long shot, she was often the one who ended up in the literal tight spaces when working with Shane. Usually, people were glad to see her, but all Mrs. Monahan had done was complain—about everything from Charlie’s treatment to what the firefighters were doing to her car. She’d resisted the urge to roll her eyes when the patient had started in on the firefighter freeing her from the dash, just in case the rearview mirror was still at such an angle that the patient could have seen her. Maybe it was shock, who knew, but any idiot should realize that the car was completely totaled when they weren’t able to get out of it without Squad cutting them out.

The moment she was able to move, Mrs. Monahan had swept her legs out and bolted out of the car, leaving Charlie almost flailing to hang on. If the patient was launching herself out with both hands, then she was probably fine, but that didn’t stop Charlie from falling awkwardly or Mrs. Monahan from bumping her elbow on the doorframe on the way out. The woman’s complaining as well as fidgeting and agitation continued as they loaded her into the back of the ambulance, and as they rode all the way to the hospital. Usually Charlie was able to keep her cool in practically any situation, but after the last couple of days, maybe her stress levels were showing as Shane offered to let her take the wheel and to go in the back with Mrs. Monahan. That guy never gave up the keys if he could help it. Fortunately, she’d managed to talk the woman down to a mere simmer in comparison during the trip, but that was one patient Charlie was actually glad to see the back of.

She glanced over at Shane, who was still standing at the desk—filling in paperwork or chatting up nurses, who knew? She waved to catch his attention. “I’ll be a couple of minutes, okay?” He nodded and she headed over to the elevator bank, making her way up to the fifth floor—psych ward. At first, the admissions desk stonewalled her, but when she explained she’d been the EMT to bring Cody in, the clerk’s face softened.

“I still can’t tell you anything,” she said, before looking up the hall and then returning her gaze to Charlie. “But I will let you know that he was discharged this morning. If you know where to find him, you should be able to track him down.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. Already? She shouldn’t really be all that surprised. Along with funding cuts to first responders across the country, mental health and vet medical services weren’t exactly flush with funds, either. She hoped Cody would be okay.

As she returned downstairs, she found Shane waiting for her at admissions. He smiled when she emerged from the elevator. “I checked in with Mason, and there’s nothing urgent going on right now,” he said. “How about we take a bit of a detour back and grab some burgers?”

At the thought of the hot patty, melting cheese, veggies piled high, and crispy chips, Charlie’s mouth watered. “God, yes. You know the way to my heart, Shane Parker.” Her cheeks tinted at the words and when she looked closely, she could have sworn she saw a light coloring on Shane’s face. Charlie resisted the urge to sigh. There was no way she was getting into a relationship with anyone from work, but there was no doubt the attraction was there. Shane was one of the good guys, and someone she respected highly. She could definitely do worse.

Shane pulled into the parking lot of the burger place and offered to run inside for their order, leaving her to babysit the rig. She watched him jog into the restaurant, studiously avoiding looking at his ass. His extremely tight, toned ass. Once he disappeared inside, she huffed out a breath, tapping her fingers on her knee as she stared out the windshield.

It was quiet out, most people either already having grabbed lunch or having more sense to eat something better than a greasy burger. Charlie didn’t care. It sounded like pretty good comfort food to her. She turned to look out over the highway that lay behind the parking lot. What was she doing? Her night with Shane had been incredible. Hot and amazing, as if he knew her body as well as he knew her. They’d been friends for years, but how that meant he knew every button to push to have her writhing beneath his hands, she had no idea. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she was a little interested, at least, to see if he could do it again. Had that night been heightened by drunken emotions, or could it really be that good with someone? Could it really be that good with someone for the rest of your life?

A quick knock on her window jolted her back to reality. She looked over at Shane, who was standing outside the ambulance. He held up the paper bag, grinning, and pointed toward the back of the rig. Charlie took a moment to check that her cheeks weren’t burning red and all her clothes were still buttoned, then swung the door open. Thank God women didn’t have the same physical reaction as men, or she’d have been walking around Shane with a permanent boner lately.

After stepping around the rig, she pushed up and sat on the back, Shane having swung the doors open to form a makeshift seat. He passed her the burger and she took a large bite, followed by a swig of ice-cold soda. Heaven.

“Think you’re going to look for him?”

“Who?” she asked. “Cody Severs?”

Shane nodded, sticking a fry in his mouth and chewing, talking again once he’d swallowed. “Yeah. I don’t think anyone would mind if we swung by for a well-being check, given the circumstances.”

“Maybe.” She was thankful that Shane was no longer giving her shit about Cody’s attentions, but maybe he’d been right. When she’d looked past the jerk part, anyway. It wasn’t a great idea to get so attached to a patient, any patient. She didn’t want to avoid him altogether, but maybe leaving it a couple of days would be wise. At the very least, the hospital might have given him some contacts in case he needed further help. She could be there in an emergency, but helping Cody beyond that wasn’t something she could do.

“So, the other night,” Shane started. Charlie froze, her burger halfway to her mouth. “Should we talk about it?”

She took a careful bite, relieved to see her hands were still despite her churning emotions. She pitched her voice carefully. “I thought we did that already.”

Shane took another sip of his drink. She glanced over. He looked . . . normal. Why the hell wasn’t he affected at all?

Because it didn’t mean anything to him. A one-night stand. That’s it.

She had to get that through her head before she ruined their friendship and their working relationship.

“We did back in the house, where about ten other people might have been listening.” Another gulp, then a fry. “On purpose.” Shane grinned, then turned to her, placing his food down. “Charlie, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “God, that’s the last thing I want, but that night. I hope you know I didn’t take that step lightly.” He held her gaze, heat in his eyes.

He hadn’t? But this was Shane. Shane, her workmate, her good friend, one of the guys. She opened her mouth and then shut it again when no good reply came to her. What on earth did she say to that?

Shane’s hand came up to her face, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. Charlie sat on the back of the rig, unmoving—half frozen from the shock of his touch and half reveling in it. When she didn’t move, he leaned in slowly, God, oh so slowly, giving her every chance to back out. She didn’t.

When his lips touched hers, it was as if a small explosion went off inside her body, and her mind. He was gentle at first, but then her hands moved to his chest and his lips became more demanding, pressing harder against hers. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue swept inside. A mixture of salty and sweet along with Shane’s own masculine taste invaded her senses as his free hand moved to the small of her back, holding her in place as his lips moved against hers. She was close enough that her breasts pressed against the hardness of his chest. Thanks to the other night, she pictured him in his full naked glory, the details no longer left to her imagination. She let out a small groan and Shane pressed her closer to him. Oh, God.

The sound of a car turning a corner close by jerked Charlie back to the world. Her face burned and she dropped it forward into her hands. At this rate, she was going to end up with a permanent blush staining her cheeks. They were making out in a parking lot like a couple of randy teenagers, and they were both in the rig in full uniform!

“We can’t do this!” She blurted out. “I can’t do this.”

Shane pulled back, but his hands stayed where they were, a smile on his face. “It’s okay. I won’t make a habit of molesting you in the burger joint’s parking lot. We can go back to my place after shift, if you like.”

Charlie extricated herself, hopping off the back of the rig and pacing in front of it. She swept her fingers through her hair—fortunately, most of it was still neat and in place. If they’d gone on much further, that would probably have been the next to go. “No, Shane. I can’t do this. I can’t date, see, kiss . . . hell, I can’t do anything with a coworker.” She looked over at him and her gaze softened. “You’re a great guy, but I can’t risk it.”

Shane hopped off the rig, bundling their rubbish together, refusing to make eye contact with her. “Okay, Charlie. It’s fine. I understand.”

Crap. Now she’d been the asshole. She moved over to where he stood, placing a hand on his arm. “Shane, it’s not you. This is on me.”

He snorted and she had to smile. He finally turned to meet her gaze and, for which she was thankful, he smiled back. “I get it,” he said. “I don’t like it, but I get it. Just don’t pull away from me, okay? That, I won’t let you do.”

She nodded. “Okay.”