Charlie woke up slowly the next morning. The bed was comfortable and warm, but something felt a little off. Maybe it was how much she’d had to drink the night before. She rolled her head to the side, testing and waiting for the crash inside her skull. Instead she just felt a little overdone, like she could stand in the shower for at least thirty minutes. Fine, no hangover. So what was it, then? She moved again, finally peeling back one eyelid. It was sticky with sleep and at first everything was fuzzy. When did she sleep on this side of the bed? She squinted. For that matter, when did her bed get this small? She normally had much more room to spread out and—holy crap! Her eyes flew open. Everything came into sharp focus, including the large man draped across the other side of the bed. One arm swept lazily upward, grazing her side. He didn’t wake, but her senses were back enough for her to recognize him immediately.

Shane.

What the hell had she done?

Oh, sure, she remembered the kiss. She hadn’t meant it to happen, but it had been a really terrible day. The anniversary was always hard, but it had been particularly painful after Cody’s call-out. A night out with friends had sounded like fun, and for the most part it had been. But it also reminded her of what she didn’t have.

The guys at the house were her friends; there was no doubt of that, but she wasn’t a permanent member. She’d been lucky lately, but it could just as easily be months before she was assigned back to their firehouse again. She’d watched the happy couples out for the evening. She dated, sure, but with her work schedule, it was difficult to sustain a relationship. Finding someone who was okay with your 24-hour-long disappearances several times a week, or the fact that you couldn’t answer your cell or return a call for hours on end . . . well, it was difficult, to say the least. The firefighters she worked with understood only too well, but there was no point going there. Even if they meant well, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for the sort of hazing some of them would put her through. Usually, partners were safe from the epic pranks, but she was “one of the boys”—or so they kept telling her. Charlie grimaced, swiping a hand through her hair to push it off her face. Yep, just one of the boys. So why the hell had she let one of them kiss her last night?

Who was she kidding? She’d had a bit to drink last night, enough that she shouldn’t have been driving, but nowhere near enough to impede her decision-making skills. It might have removed a little inhibition, but she’d ended up in bed with Shane simply because he felt damn good. At the end of a completely shitty day, the feel of his arms around her, of his lips touching hers . . . she was gone before they’d even made it past the front door. The rest of the night had been inevitable once she’d stepped inside the apartment. And now, she was going to have to deal with the consequences. Starting with finding her robe and then hiding in the bathroom before he woke up. She could only hope he’d take the hint and leave without her having to see him. Maybe she’d been assigned to another house next shift, giving her time to cool things down between them. One could only hope.

* * *

Charlie stood outside the firehouse for a good twenty minutes, staring at the red-bricked building. Her hands were numb from the morning cold, and she couldn’t feel her nose at all, but still her feet refused to take the required steps. It was nearly 7 a.m. and she was due inside. Mason would have her hide if she was late, not to mention the chief.

She mentally rolled her eyes. Get over it. It wasn’t as if there were rules against dating others in the squad. It would have been nice to have a couple of weeks before she saw him again, instead of the mere forty-eight hours between shifts, but she was going to have to face Shane eventually. She might as well get it over with.

She’d just taken a step forward when she saw Matt’s car pulling into a spot down the road. She jogged to meet him. Maybe going in with someone would stop Shane from cornering her. Maybe she could even hide behind Matt. She was convinced he was half giant. If she moved just right, she could almost sneak in behind him.

“Charlie!” Matt’s voice boomed. “Get home safe the other night? I saw Shane’s car still in the parking lot.”

Geez, could he be any louder? She wasn’t sure if Santa Claus heard him up in the North Pole. “I . . . uh . . . Shane gave me a ride home.” She ducked her head to cover the sudden warmth she felt rising in her cheeks. He had. She just didn’t feel like sharing what had happened next.

“Good for him,” Matt said, swinging his bag over one shoulder and striding toward the firehouse entrance. Charlie had to step double time so she didn’t lose him. “We should do that again sometime, when Shane isn’t monopolizing your attention.”

Her face burned. “He didn’t . . . uhh, what?”

Matt grinned. “It’s cool, Charlie-Girl, but you’d have to be blind not to notice the way that guy looked at you the other night. Better be careful or you’ll find roses in the ambulance.”

Oh, boy. She had to shut this down right now. She opened her mouth, but before she could get a word out, a hand clapped down on her shoulder.

“Leave the girl alone, Matt,” a voice from behind her said. Well, crap. Shane. “There’s no shame in getting a lift home when you’ve had a good night out.”

She tried moving to extricate herself before she’d have to turn around, but Shane’s hand held her in place. Matt at least had the good sense to stop talking about his perceived understanding of Shane’s emotions and move on. There was no way he was right. Even if Shane had spent the majority of the time that night talking to her, or had gotten up a couple of times to get her another drink. They spent hours together in the rig every shift. Shane worked with the other firefighters, but as he was the squad’s paramedic, she saw more of him than anyone else. It was natural that he’d end up talking to her more than the other guys. Matt was just playing her, trying to get a reaction.

Now she just had to get out of there before she had to turn around and look Shane in the eyes. Unlike with Matt, Charlie wasn’t so sure she could hide her true emotions standing right in front of him.

Shane released his hold on her shoulder, but before she could move, dispatch sounded over the loudspeaker. “Ambulance 32, Code two at 29 Broad Street, 901. Patient name is Herman Langley.”

Saved by the bell. A call-out, and one for unknown injuries. It couldn’t be too serious if they were receiving the order to proceed without sirens, but maybe the guy would need transporting for stitches. A girl could only dream. Maybe she could volunteer to clean up whatever mess had been made at the scene. Except that Shane couldn’t leave her there, and so he and the rig would be stuck until Charlie decided to make her way back to the firehouse. That would go down really well with Chief Stone. She took a deep breath. “Look, Shane . . .”

He looked at her, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a half smile. “It’s okay,” he said. “I get it. If the fact you crawled out of bed and hid in the bathroom before the sun was even up wasn’t a clue, then the complete lack of contact from you for two days sealed the deal.” He turned, climbing into the rig, and she followed, scrambling in as he started up the engine.

Damn. Now she felt like crap. She’d just assumed it was a hookup for him. A guy that good-looking, surely picking up women in a bar had to come naturally. She paused. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Shane with many girls. That didn’t mean it didn’t happen, of course. She rarely saw any of the guys outside of work. Besides the other night, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen them in a social situation in the last year. She might have it together at work, where she had to, but when shift was over, there was nothing Charlie liked better than curling up in her pajamas with a pint of ice cream and whatever was good that week on Netflix. Even Meg’s barbecues made her a little nervous; she was always just on the sidelines, never quite joining in.

It was probably all in her head. The guys had been perfectly welcoming every time. But that didn’t make it bother her any less. Still, that didn’t mean she had to be a complete ass. They still had to work together. “Shane, I’m sorry. When I woke up that morning, I forgot what had happened at first.” She looked over at him, shrugging. Embarrassed casual . . . that might fly. “When I realized, I didn’t want you to feel obligated to make small talk the next morning. I mean, I’m sure you didn’t plan to end up in bed with me and . . .”

Shane’s eyebrows rose and then he frowned. “Charlie, you remember the other night, right?” He looked over at her in concern before focusing back on the road. They weren’t traveling as fast as they would be for a lights-and-sirens emergency, but it still wasn’t exactly a casual ride. “Shit. Charlie?”

“I remember.” The words left her in a rush. Holy hell, she remembered enough to keep her personal spank bank going for the next year, at least. Those toned thighs, the rock-hard chest and abs, leading to something else rock hard. God, the man had stamina. “I just . . . uh . . . didn’t plan the night to end up that way, and I guess I sorta freaked out the next morning.” She caught his eye, forcing herself to look genuine. She might never tell him about her true feelings, but the next bit she really did mean. “I’m sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to make you feel worried.”

He huffed out a breath, the relief showing on his face. “Hey, no harm, no foul.” He swung the wheel around. They were nearly at their call. “I was just worried I’d taken advantage of you, or upset you somehow.”

She smiled. “It’s all good.” The ambulance pulled up outside the address and she jumped out, swinging open the back and grabbing her pack. “Let’s just put it behind us.”

He shrugged. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

She nodded, shutting the rig’s doors, then she climbed the front steps. That was definitely the best way forward, for all of them.

Charlie knocked on the door, pushing it open when it moved slightly under her hand. She called out, “Paramedics! Anyone home?”

An older man shuffled into the room, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. “Well, aren’t I lucky,” he said. “I get the pretty one today.”

She smiled, brushing off the comment. She’d always been short and her small build only added to the effect. Most patients who made comments like that were harmless, but it would be nice to be taken as a professional more often. She guided the man to a seat and watched as he saw Shane entering the house behind her, frowning. A small smile ticked up on her face. Then again, maybe anything that made patients warm to her wasn’t such a bad thing. “Hi, Mr. Langley. What’s the problem today, sir?”

The man held out his hand. There was a cut across his palm, still bleeding. “Cut myself fixing my favorite,” Mr. Langley said.

Charlie made eye contact with Shane, and he nodded. He’d keep an eye on the patient while she went and checked out the kitchen. The house was small, and it didn’t take much to locate it. Sparsely furnished but neat. She stepped around the corner and was already standing in it. The fixings for a sandwich sat on the counter: ham, a few slices shaved off a chunk still sitting on the counter. Next to a chopping board lay a bread knife, coated in some still-slick but mostly dried blood. Huh. Maybe he’d waited a while before calling them.

She walked back to the entrance of the house, where Shane had completed the initial examination and was now probing the wound. He must have hit a tender spot, as Mr. Langley jerked back his hand. He waved his uninjured hand her way. “You’re too rough! I want her to do it.”

Shane’s lips twitched—with a frown or a suppressed smile, Charlie couldn’t tell—but he stepped aside, holding his arms open in invitation. “By all means, sir.”

Charlie pulled over a chair and took Mr. Langley’s hand in her own, holding it palm up and completing the examination of the wound. There was no debris, and it had stopped any significant bleeding. She looked up at her patient. “What do you want to do, sir? I can bandage you up right here, if you like.”

“Who rides in the back?” he asked. That time, Shane couldn’t suppress the snort. Charlie could only hope Mr. Langley’s hearing wasn’t what it used to be. He wasn’t elderly by any means, but she’d guess he had at least thirty years on her, maybe more.

She smiled at him. “I do, Mr. Langley. My partner there likes to be in charge of the wheel.”

His eyes sparkled. “In that case, I’d like to go to the hospital.” He moved his hands, fussing about. “Check that I don’t need stitches.”

Charlie smiled back, then stood up. Guys like this were harmless, just usually a little lonely. Besides, it would give her something to do on the way back to base without having to have any more awkward conversations with Shane. “Can you walk, sir?” She looped an arm through his, guiding him to the front door and down the steps, leaving Shane to pick up their gear and close the front door. He’d apologized, but she was still smarting a little from his comments.

Once she had Mr. Langley situated in the back of the rig, she hopped out to grab her supply bag from Shane. He passed it to her, grinning. “You sure know how to pick ’em, Charlie.”

She frowned, her forehead wrinkling. “And that means what, exactly?”

Shane’s voice dropped lower, to avoid being overheard. “You attract them like flies lately—male patients with issues. Was that the problem? I wasn’t weird enough for you?” His voice was light, but that didn’t stop the bolt of hurt at his words.

“At least Mr. Langley was polite, unlike some people!” She spun on her heel and climbed inside, slamming the rig doors shut on his stupid jerk face. If this was what it was going to be like to work with Shane after one lapse in judgment, she’d be requesting a permanent transfer to another house.