Page 47 of Last Chance Christmas
“What happened is someone tampered with her mask.” Bryce looked around them, eyes narrowed as he studied the crowd gathering outside the police line. Even in the horrible weather, people gawked. “We shouldn’t be out in the open like this.”
“He’s right.” Officer Thomas moved to block her from the crowd’s view. “Think you can walk?”
“Of course I can. I’m fine.”
“Russell, is she okay to sit in the back of the ambulance?” he asked Kianna, as if Della couldn’t speak for herself.
Her friend nodded. “I can bring the cot.”
“I don’t need a cot.” Della wasn’t going to be rolled anywhere when she had two capable feet.
Bryce carried her damaged mask over to Amelia while Kianna and Anthony walked Della over to the truck. She kept her head down, the oxygen on. Anthony wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he helped her up the steps of the ambulance. She couldn’t tell if he was simply standing between her and the crowd or if he was afraid she’d keel over, but for a moment she felt safer. The next deep breath came easier.
She sat on the cot while Kianna took her pulse again and set an O2 meter on her finger. “Your numbers look okay. How are you feeling?”
She could handle a little burning of the eyes. “I was hardly in there that long.”
“I want you to rest here, and I’ll check your numbers again later. If everything is normal, I’ll release you back to duty.” Kianna moved to the front seat and chatted with her partner Trace while she typed on a tablet.
Della tried not to look at Officer Thomas. He stared out the window, eyes sharp and focused on something intently. She’d never really seen him like this. Usually it would be in passing, when the fire was out or the dangerous situation averted. In those moments, he’d flirt and joke around. Well, with everyone else, at least. He’d approached her once but hadn’t said anything before moving on. She’d assumed that’s what he was always like, one of those happy-go-lucky types that let others do the heavy lifting while he scoped out a date for Friday night.
But in this moment, he was vigilant. Quiet. Intense. There was nothing lighthearted about him now, from his tense lips to his hands flexed in a fist as he leaned against the door of the ambulance.
“Do you see something?” she asked him.
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “Not really. Between the rain and smoke, there’s not much to see.”
Della dropped the mask and sat up. “I should be out there. With my team.”
“You need to stay here.” He glanced over, a soft nod in her direction. “But I know what you mean.”
“You ever been injured on the job? Unable to work?”
With one more glance out the window, Officer Thomas sank into the bench running along the side of the truck. “Not injured. But…I screwed something up on a job, and now, instead of being out there tracking Vaynes and Mackey down with the rest of my team, I’ve been reassigned.”
Ah. The pieces came together. “You’re stuck babysitting me.”
“Aw, come on, Nixon. Don’t say it like that. It’s not personal. It’s just—” He grunted, snatched his black beanie off, and ran his fingers through his hair. The combed hairdo now loosened, left his wavy dark locks to fall across his forehead. She’d never seen him so disheveled. It was almost as if she were seeing the real Officer Thomas. The man without the mask.
“Then what is it?”
His blue eyes locked onto her. “I let someone get away. Now everyone else is fighting the elements, trucking through mud and rain and ice because I botched up. And here I am in a cozy firehouse all day, plenty of hot coffee at my disposal, watching over a beautiful, capable woman who’s already surrounded by a team of fighters, while everyone else tries to clean up my mess. Hardly seems fair.”
Beautiful? Capable? That’s how he saw her? Usually he seemed to avoid her. There was a lot she didn’t really know about Officer Thomas. But she’d heard the rumors. “The joke around the station is that you don’t like to get your clothes dirty. You have a collection of expensive shoes that cost more than I make in a year, and you’re saying that you’d really rather be out in the miserable cold and mud hunting down criminals?”
“I want to prove that I’m a good cop.” He shrugged. “And I look for deals on quality shoes. Never pay full price.” He winked at her.
Maybe she’d misjudged him.
“Officer Thomas, I?—”
“It’s Anthony.”
A beat passed. Her pulse kicked up a notch.
“All right…Anthony. I just wanted to apologize for this morning. I was…a little harsh.”
“A little?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Either that or you did a horrible job trying to flatter me by calling me the precinct’s poster boy. I mean, I like a compliment as much as the next guy, but you really need to work on your delivery.”
