Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose. “Torres.”
Isabel grinned, but she obeyed, shrugging out of what remained of her completely destroyed button-up. She was left in just a black tank top, the fabric clinging to her in a way that was entirely unnecessary.Victoria told herself she didn’t notice.
She definitely noticed.
“All right let’s see it,” Victoria said, rolling up the sleeves of her own shirt.
Isabel turned slightly in the chair, resting her arm on the desk. The wound was shallow but ugly—a jagged graze along her upper bicep already crusted with dried blood.
Victoria grabbed a bottle of antiseptic. “This is going to sting.”
“I can handle it,” Isabel murmured, her voice lower now. More serious.
Victoria nodded, pressing a gauze pad to the wound. The moment the antiseptic hit, Isabel inhaled sharply, her fingers curling into a fist. Victoria felt the way her body tensed under her hands—too close, too warm. The air in the office felt heavier somehow, pressing in.
“You’re awfully gentle for someone who probably learned this in a war zone,” Isabel murmured after a moment, voice teasing but softer now.
Victoria’s hands stilled for half a second before she continued. “I’ve patched up worse.”
“Is that your way of saying you care?”
Victoria didn’t look at her. “It’s my way of saying I don’t want you bleeding all over my precinct.”
Isabel chuckled, but there was something else in her expression—something thoughtful, almost searching. “You ever think about quitting? Doing something less…” She gestured vaguely. “Life-threatening?”
Victoria exhaled, securing the gauze. “No.”
“Not even once?”
“No.”
Isabel hummed. “So you’re one of those ‘the job is my life’ people.”
Victoria shot her a look. “And you’re not?”
Isabel’s smirk faltered—just for a moment. “Touché.”
Victoria shook her head, reaching for the needle and thread. “Stay still.”
Isabel obeyed, but she was watching Victoria again, her gaze slow and deliberate. “I meant what I said, by the way.”
Victoria frowned, threading the needle. “About what?”
“About your hands,” Isabel murmured. “They’re steady. Strong.” She tilted her head slightly, smirking. “But you’re careful. You don’t want to hurt me.”
Victoria’s fingers stilled for a fraction of a second before she forced herself to keep going. “That’s what a good medic does,” she muttered.
“That’s what a goodpartnerdoes,” Isabel corrected.
Victoria didn’t have an answer for that. She focused on the stitches, keeping her breathing steady, keeping everything steady. But Isabel made itimpossible.She was so…there.The warmth of her skin, the scent of leather and gunpowder still clinging to her, the way she held Victoria’s gaze without hesitation.
When Victoria finished the last stitch, she exhaled slowly and sat back. “Done.”
Isabel flexed her arm slightly, testing the movement before glancing up at Victoria with a lopsided grin. “Not bad, Captain. Didn’t even cry.”
Victoria arched a brow. “I told you.”
Isabel smirked. “You did. And Isolove when you’re right.”
