Chapter One Noelle #3
His tone is weighted with the unmistakable confidence of someone who has never once worried about making friends or being liked.
I adjust the strap of my overnight bag on my shoulder.
“And you must be the firefighter,” I reply, less warmly.
His grin widens. Apparently, sarcasm doesn’t deter him. If anything, it seems to encourage him.
He holds out a hand. “Mateo Ruiz.”
I look down at it, then look back up at him. For some reason, I decide to play my favorite game. The one where I hesitate for long enough just to see if they’ll drop their hand. It’s a good litmus test for who can handle a little bit of adversity.
He doesn’t lower his hand, though. So, with a tight-lipped smile, I reach out and give it a terse shake.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“No, thanks.”
“Fair enough. You’re better off avoiding that sludge Kowalski brews.”
“Hey!” shouts one of the men at the table, an older guy with a thick mustache.
Mateo ignores him, winking at me. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
I open my mouth to inform him that there’s no need for him to have any part of my body whatsoever, but then the station door I just came in through opens again behind me.
Cold air rushes inside, and several of the firefighters glance past me toward the entrance.
The shift in the room is immediate, but subtle. Conversation quiets, postures adjust, and attention shifts. The collective reaction tells me everything I need to know before I even turn around.
Their captain just walked in.
I pivot toward the entrance.
The man entering the station is taller than the one attempting to charm me, but slightly narrower in frame. His dark hair is thick, but touched with the slightest flecks of silver at the temples.
His gaze sweeps around him, assessing and cataloging in the automatic sort of way that I can begrudgingly relate to.
When that gaze lands on me, so deep brown in color that it’s almost black, the station suddenly feels very quiet.
His expression doesn’t change, but something in his eyes hardens.
Morrison was right, then. This captain really is thrilled about the arrangement that was coordinated over our heads.
Captain Hale closes the door behind him and steps farther into the station.
“Investigator Meadows,” he says. It’s not a question. It’s not even really a greeting, either.
His voice is calm and professional, but not entirely welcoming. At the very least, he’s not being outright hostile.
“Captain Hale,” I reply.
“You’re early,” he states.
“Is that a problem?”
“We were told that you would arrive at five-thirty this evening.”
“I didn’t realize I’d be unwelcome any minute prior to that time,” I quip, not liking the sternness in his voice. This guy might be a captain of his crew, but he’s definitely not the boss of me.
His eyes narrow slightly. “We haven’t yet had the chance to prepare your living quarters.”
“Well, it’s not my bedtime yet, so I think I’ll be fine.”
“This is an active fire station,” Hale says.
“Yes, I noticed.”
His jaw tightens. At some wordless cue, Mateo retreats from my side and sinks back into the kitchen-lounge area.
“What I mean by that,” Hale continues, stepping closer, “is that my crew has a routine to follow and duties to perform. Your presence here, your investigation, and any associated surprises cannot interfere with station operations.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. This man can’t be that much older than me—a decade my senior, give or take—but he’s talking to me like I’m a child.
“I can’t imagine one civilian could possibly throw things off balance.”
“You should stay clear of active emergency scenes unless accompanied by an authorized individual,” he adds, ignoring my response.
“Investigators don’t require supervision.”
“Investigators in my fire station do.”
“Well, Captain, you and I both want the same thing, which is to ensure that your fire station is still standing come January, so maybe we can dabble in compromise.”
Captain Hale stares me down. I lift my chin and refuse to give any ground.
There’s a subtle shift in his expression, a weird flash of startled confusion that’s here and gone in a matter of seconds.
Then, without breaking eye contact with me, he barks, “Ruiz.”
Mateo comes hurrying back over immediately. “Cap?”
“Show Investigator Meadows to the mezzanine.”
“Happy to.”
The captain’s eyes flash to his crew member. “I’m sure you are.”
A few firefighters laugh in the background.
Then, his gaze returns to mine. “This station functions because everyone inside it follows the same rules. So, you follow my rules… or you leave my station.”
The words hang in the air between us, both a warning and an ultimatum. Or a challenge, perhaps.
I give him a polite smile. “Unfortunately for both of us, I can’t leave this station until my investigation is complete, but I appreciate the advice, Captain.”
He looks like he wants nothing more than to rise to my bait, and I almost wish that he would. I’d certainly be satisfied to have further proof that firefighters are just as susceptible to imperfection as every other human.
Instead, he nods once, mutters a stiff “pardon me,” and then shoulders past me and Mateo to enter the kitchen.