Flashback Read online

  “Chase. And he wasn’t naked. He was wearing the underwear he was marketing. Which isn’t that much less than what you’re wearing in that calendar, Mr. 2008.” She gave him a long look.

  “Last year you went out with a European prince.”

  “Now that was just publicity.”

  He didn’t know if he believed her, or cared.

  Strike that. He cared. “Take the pill.” He watched her chase it with the glass of water he offered.

  Yeah, he cared.

  Dammit.

  “Problem,” she said, and licked a drop of water off her bottom lip.

  He dragged his gaze up to hers. “What?”

  “Even if there were no dogs. I still couldn’t get a room. I have no money—my purse either burned up or is below several yards of water, probably both.” Kenzie winced. “The hospital had to give me an emergency taxi voucher to get to my car. I’d be really screwed right now if my keys hadn’t been in my pocket. Luckily, I also left my cell in the car, so I called my financial manager and he’s overnighting emergency funds. But your address was the only one I could think to give him, and I have no place to go until it arrives. And now I can’t drive.” She shook the bottle of pills. “It’s not recommended.”

  Their eyes met as the implications of her little speech sank in.

  “Apparently, I still trust you,” she whispered. “At least a little.”

  Damn if that didn’t cut right through everything to the heart of the matter. For better or worse, she trusted him, and he had to admit, that meant something to him. Plus, there was the other truth—there was no other place she could go. Like it or not, he was her only contact in town. Which meant…

  She was staying here.

  With him.

  5

  KENZIE SAT ON AIDAN’S COUCH absorbing the awkward silence. Her eyes were closed but she could feel him close. Thinking. Probably panicking. “Or if you loan me a few bucks, I’ll call a cab.”

  “And go where?”

  Right. Well, dammit, if he’d just give her some room, she could just sit and try to ignore him—try being the key word.

  It wasn’t his good looks that held her interest. She’d had her fill of good-looking guys on a daily basis at work and she would have said Aidan wasn’t that pretty, at least not soap-star pretty. Until she’d seen the calendar. Because holy cow, he’d looked pretty damn fine in eight-and-a-half-by-eleven color glossy, there was no doubt. But he was also tough, and far more rugged than that. There was just something about his eyes and mouth, and the laugh lines lining both that suggested he could be dangerous or outrageous, sweet or maybe not so much so, sheer trouble or the boy next door….

  She knew all to be true.

  What she didn’t know was why she’d come here, to his house.

  Okay, she knew. He was the only familiar thing in her entire world. She’d gotten his address easily enough by calling his station, where some friendly firefighter had recognized her and cheerfully offered up direction. She’d driven here on auto-pilot, having no trouble remembering her way around Santa Rey, getting spooked only when she’d thought she was being followed by a gray sedan.

  Which was ridiculous and paranoid. God, she needed a nap.

  Aidan’s house was tiny, and definitely old, but cozy. From the looks of things, he’d been remodeling it. The living room had lovely hardwood floors and gorgeous wood trim on all the windows, which looked out to the ocean and the rolling hills surrounding it.

  He’d always been handy—with tools, with his mind, his words.

  His body…

  Yeah, he’d been really good in that department. In fact, it was fair to say he’d been her willing tutor, and she a most apt pupil.

  But that thought led to others, including the fact that she’d once been young and stupid enough to believe in fairy tales. Aidan had been her prince, her happily-ever-after.

  Until he hadn’t been.

  Luckily she was no longer young or stupid. She no longer dated men while dreaming of that white picket fence and two point four kids. Nope, she dated simply to have fun, and once in a while, to have good sex.

  Easy come, easy go.

  Too bad she and Aidan weren’t having a go at things now, because she was finally with the program, she finally got the rules. They’d probably have a hell of a time.

  An evening breeze came through an open window and she drew in a fresh breath. Her pain pill had begun to kick in, and she sank a little deeper into the very comfortable couch. The last time she’d been in Aidan’s place, which back then had been an apartment, he’d owned a bed, a TV, a stereo and a box of condoms.

  That’d been all they’d needed.

  She hadn’t been the only one to change. His needs had apparently upgraded. His couch was extra large, and double extra comfortable. There was a TV, triple extra large, and the perennial stereo. But he also had a desk with a computer on it, and some beautiful prints on the walls, which were painted in muted beachy colors.

  No condoms in sight. That was undoubtedly for the best. But she liked the house. Low maintenance, calm, even warm and clean. Her place wasn’t so different, which meant she felt far more at home here than she would have ever admitted out loud.

  How ironic that she’d come back into town to handle Blake’s affairs, and to raise hell on the arson charges, intending to stay as far out of Aidan’s path as possible, only to end up here in his house, with nowhere else to go.

  High on meds…

  From the windows she could hear the waves slapping against the shore. Next to her, he was still, just sitting there breathing, soft and even, but she didn’t look at him. Wasn’t ready to look at him. Yet apparently her nose didn’t get that memo because her nostrils quivered, trying to catch a quick whiff of the man—except all she could smell was herself and the smoke and soot stuck to her skin. “I stink.”

  “It’s stress.”

  “No, not like that.” She rolled her eyes, which hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. “Like smoke.”

  “You could take a shower.” His voice was low, a little gritty, and a whole lot suggestive, although she knew that last was all her own imagination.

  She couldn’t help it, the guy had a voice that brought to mind slow, hot sex. Seriously, if he could bottle the sound, he’d have been rich.

  “Kenzie? Do you want to take a shower?”

  Yes, please. In her own place with her own things and her own thick, cozy, warm bathroom and fuzzy bunny slippers. And then she’d like a good DVD and a bag of popcorn, something to give her mind a mini-vacation from its current hell. “That would be nice, thanks.”

  He offered her a hand. She stared at it, and then into his face, which was solemnly watching her. “Just a hand,” he murmured.

  Knowing she was a bit wobbly, she put her hand in his bigger, warmer one and let him pull her up. She staggered into him, and for a moment he held her, and caving in to her own yearning, she pressed her face to his throat and was immediately overcome with memories.

  But she didn’t do memories, at least not anymore, so she forced herself to step free of him.

  He led her down the hall and into what must have been his bedroom. The walls were a soft cream, which went beautifully with the cedar ceilings. But what caught her eye was the biggest bed she’d ever seen, piled high with a thick navy-blue comforter and a mountain of pillows. It was made, sort of. It was boy-made, which meant the covers had been tugged up. His hamper appeared to be a pile of clothes in the corner, but other than that, the room was as warm and clean and welcoming as the rest of the house.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised. The Aidan she’d known had been rough-and-tumble tough, always cool and calm and impenetrable no matter the circumstances, which she imagined served him well in his field. She’d seen that in action on the boat and in the water.

  But much like his house, he had a warm, soft, welcoming center. It was what had made him so damn likeable.

  Now, with the dubious honor of a few years and so