Page 2 of Falling for Red
She scowls as soon as she sees me, her blue eyes meeting mine. “Took you long enough.”
I blink, caught off guard, staring down at her. “You didn’t have to do our job for us,” I joke, pointing to the mess.
“Well, someone had to.” She crosses her arms, one brow arching.
I huff out a laugh, more impressed than I probably should be by this sassy, short woman. “Are you Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s get you outside.”
“I’m fine.” She waves me off, standing and stepping around the extinguisher residue like this is just another Tuesday.
I block her exit. “Smoke inhalation isn’t something to brush off. You need to get checked out.”
She rolls her eyes. “I barely breathed in any smoke. I’m fine.”
I’ve never seen her around town. Intrigued, I need to refocus. “It’s protocol. You have to be evaluated.”
Claire gives me a long, measuring look, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine.”
Outside, I look for the ambulance but don’t see it. I part the growing crowd as I guide her to the truck. People are always too nosey at the scene, standing too close to us while we try to work. I softly smile and gesture to the bumper. “Sit.”
“You’re bossy.” She plops down but glares at me like she’s doing me a favor.
“It’s my job.” I motion for a space blanket, but before I can wrap it around her, she grabs it and does it herself.
“I need to go,” she mutters, already pushing up to her feet.
I step in front of her, nearly placing my hand on her shoulder. “No,” I say, maybe too seriously. “You need to wait for the ambulance.”
Her big blue eyes search mine before she exhales sharply. “I don’t have time for this. My daughter is sick, and I need to pick her up.”
I soften slightly at the mention of her daughter, but I have to hold my ground and do my job. “Can you call someone? I can’t let you leave.”
Her jaw clenches. “You can’t let me leave?” She folds her arms. “Didn’t realize I was under arrest.”
I bite back a smirk. “You’re not. But you inhaled smoke, and protocol says you have to stay put.”
She throws her head back, groaning.
“Claire.” We both turn at the sound of a familiar voice. Aaron Olson jogs up, his expression tight with concern.
“Hey,” I say. I’ve known him for years. We’re not close friends, but we’ve gotten along since he was a freshman on the wrestling team when I was a senior. Looking at him, you’d never know he wrestled at the lowest weight class. Dude is jacked. He’s been working at High Five for years now, and Nicholas made him the manager earlier this year.
“I need to get Gabby,” Claire says, her voice shifting into something more urgent.
I glance at Aaron. “She has to be evaluated first.”
Aaron looks between us, then nods at Claire. “I can get her.”
Claire presses her fingers to her temples like she’s exasperated, but I catch the flicker of relief in her expression.
“Fine.” She yanks her phone from her pocket, dialing quickly. “There was a fire at High Five. Can my friend Aaron pick up Gabby? They won’t let me leave.”
I watch her as she talks, trying not to get distracted by her soft voice. She must be close to me in age. She’s somewhere in her early thirties. Even covered in soot and frustration, she’s gorgeous, making a white T-shirt and jeans look too good. And those freckles. Focus.
But I keep noticing every detail. The way her fingers tap against her leg. The little crease between her brows. She seems to handle stress well. Most people would be freaked out by a fire, but it’s like it’s not even phasing her. Where’s her husband or family? Why is Aaron the one to help her out right now?
