“So? Some women paint their nails and some don’t. Some guys have beards and some don’t.” He chuckled. “I tried once, before I joined the fire department. I don’t grow a cool, hipster beard. Mine’s more like somebody glued dust bunnies to my face. Fuzzy and splotchy and...not a good look.”
That made her laugh. “I got a manicure once, with my mom. She got a gift certificate from my stepdad and brother for Mother’s Day a few years ago and made me go with her. It took forever and the nail polish lasted maybe two days.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Interesting word choice,made. Most of the women I know love to go to the salon or the spa or whatever the hell you call it.”
She pulled her hand free and curled it into a fist, to hide her nails. “I guess I’m not like most of the women you know.”
“No, you’re not.” He pried gently until she uncurled her fingers, and then he ran his thumb over her palm. Cait wondered if he could see the shiver that ran down her spine. “So you don’t paint your nails or grow them long. So what? You take care of your family with these hands. You save lives. You flip off firefighters. I like your hands.”
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or climb over the table, straddle his lap and kiss him until they both forgot what they’d been talking about.
“Tell me the Joe Grassano story.”
She was confused for a few seconds by the abrupt subject change, though the name seemed familiar. “Who?”
“The firefighter you pushed down the stairs.”
“That was an accident!”
He laughed, because he obviously knew that. “AsIheard the story, you and Tony were going down the stairs and Joe got in the way. You bumped into him and then you yelled something, stuck your arm out and he fell down the stairs.”
“That isnotwhat happened,” she said, but after a few seconds of thought, she frowned. “Okay, that is what happened. But it’s all in how you say it, I guess.”
“How wouldyousay it?”
If it was just a random firefighter asking her that, she’d probably get defensive. But she knew Gavin didn’t believe she’d deliberately pushed Joe Grassano down the stairs. “We were carrying the stretcher down the stairs, and...let’s just say the guy could have used a calorie tracker. I bumped into Joe, which jostled my patient. And, yeah, I think I yelled something at him because what moron stops on the stairs in front of two EMTs carrying a stretcher? But I saw theoh, shitexpression on his face and realized he was off balance, and I was reaching to grab his turnout coat—with my back jammed up against the stretcher to help stabilize it, I might add—when he fell. My fingertips did brush the coat, but I didn’t push him.”
He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “I didn’t think you did.”
“If I thought you believed I pushed the man on purpose, I wouldn’t still be sitting here.”
“For the record, Joe knows you didn’t push him.”
“I know. We had ice cream the next day and laughed about it. But I know how you guys like a story.”
“How come Tony was at the back, though? It seems like he should have gone first since the stretcher being at an angle puts more weight on the person in front.”
That got her back up a little, even though she supposed it was a valid question. “I went first because that’s where I was. You think I should have stepped aside and let the man handle it?”
His eyes widened and she saw the instant he realized his misstep. “Whoa. That’s not where I was going with that. Jamie would kick my ass.”
The name was vaguely familiar. “Jamie?”
“Jamie Rutherford...Kincaid, I guess. Scott’s wife. She’s LT at Ladder 41, but she filled in at E-59 when Walsh got hurt. She’s a great firefighter—one of the best—and she would kick my ass if she thought I implied a woman couldn’t do the job. Or your job.”
“As she should.”
“But when you’re a team, you’ve got people with different strengths and weaknesses—uh, not that carrying victims would be a weakness for you... I’m going to shut up now.”
She laughed, letting him off the hook. “Tony was at the back, but he also had all the gear slung over his shoulder and I had none. And yes, going down multiple flights of stairs makes it more difficult, but being at the front enables me to set the pace, and Tony has the strength to hold his end not only up, but back if necessary, so it isn’t pushingmedown the stairs.”
“You guys have worked together awhile?”
“Four years. We don’t even really need verbal communication at this point. We’re a good pair, I think.”
He nodded, his face serious. “Do you guys spend time together off the job?”
Cait felt her eyebrows shoot up, and she cocked her head a little. The day was going so well, so she really hoped he wasn’t going there. “What exactly are you asking me, Gavin?”
