Free Kiss Me Gone by Christa Wick

looking for a boy toy. But that particular lady had taken all her clothes with her when she left -- and a pound or two of my flesh.
    A smart-alecky grin I knew all too well surfaced across Eden's beautiful face. "You rescue her from a fire, too?"
    That had been the case with my cougar, but Eden didn't need to know. I scowled at her, ignoring the question. "Try to get some sleep. I have tomorrow off and we'll go to the mall, get you something that fits and--"
    She shook her head at me. "I don't have any money."
    "Little girl, you don't need money."
    Realizing I shouldn't have called her that, I shut my trap. She'd been on her own for who knew how long, surviving as best she could. She didn't need me to use a patronizing nickname from a past in which she really had been a little girl. I lost the right to pet names when I stormed away from her drive that night three years ago then buried myself in a hole until she was out of reach.
    She gave me another shake of her head, more emphatic than the first. "I don't know when I would be able to pay you back. I don't have a job--"
    I raised a hand, stopping her. She had forgotten how things worked in her stepfather's world, how we all took care of one another at the station. Not just those on the job but their families, too. I was going to have to remind her.
    "What makes you think I'd let you pay me back? Your dad was family, you were..." I stopped as another wave of failure clawed at my gut. "Just...don't worry about paying me back. If you can one day, then good, if not, that's fine, too."
    I raised both brows and gave her a hard stare to let her know I meant everything I had just said. I had failed her in the past, but Eden was here now, with me. Whatever she needed, I'd give it to her. "Is that clear?"
    She answered with a short nod, her gaze not quite meeting mine. Whether that meant she wouldn't protest the new clothes in the morning or was too damned tired to argue about it didn't matter. We'd cross that bridge later. Right then, she clearly needed sleep. She was swaying lightly and I didn't think her legs would hold up much longer.
    I took a step forward, ready to plant a kiss on her forehead like I had sometimes done in the past. Then I realized she probably wouldn't welcome the gesture. She hadn't come looking for me even though she was living in the same city. If the fire hadn't happened or someone else had pulled her from the building, she would have been gone before I ever found out she had ghosted through town.
    I put my hand on her shoulder and gave a little squeeze. "Sleep tight, Eden."
    I turned to leave but she called me back with the soft whisper of my name.
    "Dare..."
    I looked, saw the tears in her eyes and rushed back to draw her trembling body into my arms. "What's wrong?"
    She clutched the fabric of my shirt and buried her face against my chest. "Thank you...for saving my life...for bringing me here."
    I hugged her tighter, kissed the crown of her head, stroked her hair until she stopped shaking. I wanted to do a hell of a lot more, but I didn't have the right and the timing couldn't be worse. Not even two hours ago she had been seconds from being burned alive.
    "You're safe now. Just try to get some sleep, okay?"
    She nodded and slowly withdrew from my embrace. I felt the absence like a hard punch in the gut. Wanting to pull her back to me, I forced myself to take that first step toward the door and to keep on walking until I was in the living room grabbing a pillow and blanket from the coat closet.
    The sofa was a pullout and I fumbled with getting it open. My hands shook. My heart thumped heavily in my chest. A thin film of perspiration covered my forehead and chest. I flopped onto the mattress and unfurled the blanket across me.
    I knew an adrenaline high when I was locked in one. It was all part of the job and I had started fighting fires at eighteen as part of the auxiliary volunteers. I had three full years on the force, my dedication and focus bringing me