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“Yeah,” I say quietly, looking into her eyes. “It was you.”

She tucks her face into my neck and breathes. As bad timing would have it, somewhere across the lot a diesel engine rumbles into her loading zone.

Dammit.

Neither of us moves until the driver honks twice. “That’s my roses,” she whispers.

“Go,” I breathe against her temple.

“You have shift?”

I reply, “At seven.”

“Eat the eggs. They’re only a little burnt.” She slides off the counter, and my shirt slides down, and she heads down the hall murmuring, “I need my pants.”

I don’t follow her into the bedroom. That would be a bad idea.

At the door she stops and looks back at me over her shoulder. “I’m keeping the shirt.”

I eat the well-done eggs standing at her counter. They’re the best eggs I’ve ever had.

When I walk into the firehouse bay at 0655, Rob is waiting by the coffee pot like he’s been there since dawn.

“Morning, Sarge.”

“Morning.”

“Sleep well?”

I pour my coffee. I don’t answer.

“Because Cassia,” Rob says pleasantly, “got a text from Lindsey at five-thirty this morning. And the text was a picture of a blue button-down shirt with a button missing. And then the text said, quote, ‘HE SLEPT. SEVEN HOURS.’ All capitals.”

I drink my coffee.

“Seven hours, Sarge.” Rob is grinning like a lunatic. “You haven’t slept seven damn hours since before the Army.”

“Rob. Rule two.”

He frowns. “What about it?”

“When I tell you to shut up, you shut up. Even when I’m wrong. Especially when I’m wrong.”

Rob opens his mouth. Closes it. Then he cracks up. Behind him, Devin wanders in eating a granola bar. “What’s funny?” he asks.

“Raines slept,” Rob says.

Devin looks from me to Rob and back. “The florist?” he asks, his eyebrows arching weirdly.

I walk out of the bay. Devin calls after me, “Damn, Ranger,” with deep respect, but Rob is still laughing.

Damn. Ranger.

It’s a good day. A quiet one. We handle a lift assist at the senior apartments, a smoke alarm with a dead battery, three hours of hose testing in the lot. Every couple of hours my phone vibrates in my pocket, and every time it’s her.

Good morning. Again.

It is a good morning.