Flashpoint Read online

  An hour ago, Brooke had been in his arms, panting his name as she came all over him. She’d let loose now. Washed him right out of her system and that was fine. Hell, that was great. He’d just move on, too, and—

  “You holding up?” Tommy asked, stopping next to Zach, sipping a beer.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Haven’t heard from you in a few hours. Couldn’t figure out if I should be worried, or if it was because you were finally trusting me to do my job.”

  Zach let out a long breath. “And how is that going? Your job?”

  Tommy just took a drink.

  “Shit. Don’t tell me it’s not going.”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m not saying anything.”

  “Well, then, say something.”

  “You’re just going to have to trust me a little bit longer.”

  Unfortunately, he really had no choice. Tommy walked away, and Zach watched Brooke dance some more. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a little wild. She’d definitely loosened up tonight, and he couldn’t tear his gaze off her. Forcing himself to, he moved to stand by Blake, who was back at the bonfire.

  The other firefighter tossed a log into the flames, watched it catch. “You could just ask her to dance.”

  “Who?”

  Blake shook his head in disgust, then tossed another log into the fire before swiping a forearm over his sweaty brow. He didn’t look so good, and Zach frowned. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you take a break, let me relieve you for a few?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  Blake had been quiet and down all year since Lynn had died. Of all of them, Zach thought maybe he at least knew a little of what he was feeling. “Blake—”

  “I said I’m good.”

  Great. They were both good.

  And they were both liars.

  FOR ZACH, the next few days whirled by, a blurry, crazy merge of calls. He didn’t sleep well, and finally gave up even trying, ending up at the firehouse kitchen table with his laptop, going through all his gathered arson information to distract himself from daydreaming about the feel of Brooke’s curves, the taste of her skin…

  And then the object of his fantasies walked into the room.

  She was early for her shift, looking a little sleepy and a whole lot sexy as she headed directly toward the coffeepot on the counter.

  They hadn’t had a chance to speak alone since she’d worn that pretty dress with her hair down, her body soft and giving and sweet.

  So goddamn sweet.

  Her mouth was still soft and sweet now, but she was back in the uniform, complete with her hair all carefully pulled back.

  Buttoned-up.

  It didn’t matter. He remembered what she looked like with her hair down, not to mention without her clothes, and he wanted to undo her all over again.

  He wanted that. He, the one who’d not wanted a relationship.

  Jesus. He really needed more sleep.

  Brooke doctored herself some coffee, then looked at him. “What are you doing?”

  Since the answer to that was, “something I shouldn’t be,” he shut the laptop.

  “You and Blake. I caught him looking at porn, too.”

  “Excuse me, but I was not looking at porn.”

  Over her mug, she raised a brow. “What was it Viagra Man said? Guys will be guys?”

  “For God’s sake.” He opened the laptop back up. “Come here and look for yourself.”

  “Oh no, thank you.” She was laughing now, and lifted her free hand. “What you do in your own spare time—”

  Reaching out, he grabbed her hand and tugged her over, letting go just before she fell right into his lap, where he really wanted her.

  She sat in the chair next to him and looked at him for a long beat; he looked back.

  “Hi,” she whispered.

  He smiled. “Hi.”

  Turning her head, she stared at the screen, at the list of property deeds and the records of ownership he’d been studying, and her smile faded.

  “The fires,” she said quietly. “The arsons.”

  “Yeah. Doing some research.” Which was getting him nowhere. Nothing matched. None of the current owners, none of the past owners, none of the three properties were related to each other in any way. After all these weeks, he was at an impasse, and was afraid Tommy was, too.

  “You’re trying to link them together.”

  He wasn’t supposed to be doing any such thing. He certainly shouldn’t be discussing it.

  “What about the way the fires were started?” she asked.

  They’d all been started in a wire-mesh trash can, with a second point of origin as bait for the investigator to find and be misdirected, but he was afraid he was the only one who knew that. “Similar,” he admitted.

  “Suspects?”

  He stared at her. She wasn’t lecturing him on how stupid it was to risk his job digging into this. She wasn’t telling him all the reasons why these fires hadn’t been arson. She was sitting here, believing him, believing in him. “Most arson is committed by the owners. But the owners of these properties aren’t connected in any way that I can see.”

  “New structures? Or old?”

  “Newer.”

  “What about contractors, then?”

  “All different.”

  “Okay, then. Back to location.” Standing up, Brooke paced the length of the kitchen and back again. Leaning in over his shoulder, she typed on the keys of the laptop. “If we compare their footprints…”

  He couldn’t stop staring at her, bowled over by her analytical mind, her quick thinking. “I already did.”

  “And?”

  And her scent was extremely distracting. As was the way her breast gently pressed into his arm. “They were all different square footage,” he told her. “Different building types. Different everything.”

  “Show me.”

  He brought up the map he’d created. Her arm was resting on his shoulder. Her skin looked so damned silky, and he knew from experience that she tasted amazing.

  Everywhere.

  “There’s got to be a connection.” She was studying the screen, her brow furrowed, her mouth grim. “Somewhere.”

  She believed in him. The knowledge was staggering. “Brooke.”

  “Somebody is connected in some way. An employee, a relative, someone…” She was thinking, chewing on her lower lip, eyes still glued to the screen, and he couldn’t take his off her.

  “Maybe—”

  “Brooke.”

  Her gaze cut to his questioningly.

  And he lost his breath. Instead of talking, he tugged on her hand, so that she was forced to lean in closer until she lost her balance.

  He caught her.

  And then he kissed her.

  With a soft murmur, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Oh yeah, this was what he’d needed for days—hell, maybe his entire life—and he kissed her until they had to break apart to breathe.

  They were still staring at each other when the kitchen door opened and Aidan walked in. “Hey.”

  Brooke leaped back to her chair like a Mexican jumping bean.

  “Anyone got food?” Aidan asked.

  “Uh…” Brooke put her hands to her cheeks. “I have cookies on the top shelf.”

  “Score.” Aidan helped himself while Brooke rose to her feet.

  “Gotta clock in,” she said and, with a last glance at Zach, left the room.

  Zach thunked his head to the table.

  “What?” Aidan took two fistfuls of cookies and plopped himself down next to Zach, peering at the laptop. “Trying to link them.” He nodded. “Hey, maybe if you—”

  “Aidan.”

  “Huh?”

  He had to laugh. “I was sort of in the middle of something with Brooke.”

  Aidan blinked. “Oh. You mean…” He pointed a finger at himself. “You wanted me to leave you two alone?”