Flashpoint

Chapter 5

If Brooke had talked with Zach for even another minute, she’d probably have thrown herself at him. She wouldn’t have been able to help herself. He’d been standing there, looking fiercely unhappy, and her ears had been ringing with all she’d heard Tommy say to him-about his parents, about that kid dying, about how Zach needed to stay out of it. God, she’d wanted to grab him and hug him and kiss away that look on his face.

Even now she wanted to, hours later, sitting by herself in the house.

Good thing she was off duty for two days. Two days in which to get herself together and find some semblance of control. Because there were other ways to offer comfort than sex, for God’s sake. She could buy a Hallmark card, for instance. Or make cookies.

But neither appealed. No, she wanted to offer a different kind of comfort all together.

A physical comfort.

A grip. She needed one. So she buried herself in packing. By the time her weekend was over, she’d gotten to the halfway point, setting aside a shocking amount of boxes to keep.

Keep.

Odd, how she wished she could keep even more, but she’d talked herself out of that, going only for the photos and diaries, still surprised at the sentimental impulse. What was she going to do with it all and no house to keep it in? Oh sure, her name was on the deed of this one, but that was temporary.

Like everything in her life.

The answers didn’t come, not then, and not when she drove to work for her next scheduled shift. As she got out of her car, her eyes automatically strayed to the hammock, empty of one übersexy firefighter. Not there.

And not washing his rig, half-naked. His rig was parked, though, so she knew he was here, somewhere. Pulse quickening for no good reason other than she was thinking about him, she stepped inside her new home away from home and found a big poster had gone up in the front room, announcing the chief’s upcoming big birthday beach bash.

A party.

She wasn’t great at those. Turning to head into the kitchen, she ran smack into a warm, solid chest.

Zach’s T-shirt didn’t say Bite Me today. It didn’t say anything. No, this one was plain black, half-tucked into loosely fitted Levi’s that looked like beloved old friends, faded in all the stress points. He had his firefighter duffel bag over his shoulder and was clearly just getting here for his shift, same as her.

“Hey.” It was the low, rough voice that had thrilled her in waaaay too many of her dreams lately. “You showed.”

At the old refrain said after all these weeks only to make her smile, she found herself doing just that even as her body came to quick, searing life. She had it bad for him, and it was as hot and uncontrollable as a flash fire. “I told you, I finish everything I start.”

He smiled a bad-boy smile, and touched her, a hand to hers, that was all-and the whole of her melted. “Everything?” he murmured.

Oh, boy. She recognized the heat in his gaze, and felt a matching heat in her belly.

And her nipples.

And between her legs.

A kiss. She wanted just one kiss. Was that so bad?

“Because I think we’ve started something very interesting here. Something we should finish. What do you think?”

“I…uh…”

“I’m all ears,” he murmured and shifted just a little closer. So close that she had to tip her head up to see into his eyes, giving her an up-front and personal view of the scar that slashed his right eyebrow in half.

Her gaze dropped from that scarred brow to his mouth. Way too dangerous. Also too sexy-looking for his own good, for hers-his smile too easy on the eyes, his everything too easy on the eyes.

“Brooke?”

“Don’t I hear a fire bell?” she managed.

He chuckled softly. “No, but nice try.” He shifted to let her move past him, but somehow they ended up bumping against each other, softness to hardness. For a brief breath she closed her eyes and allowed herself to absorb it-his scent, his proximity, the feel of him brushing up against her.

She’d had no idea how much she’d craved this nearness, a physical touch; that it was him, the object of her secret nighttime fantasies, only intensified the sensation.

He put his hands on her arms, sensuously slid them up and down, and she forgot they were in the firehouse, forgot that they should really make at least an attempt to be discreet. Hell, she forgot to breathe. “Zach.” She tore her gaze from his and looked at his mouth.

A mouth that let out a low, rough sound of hunger, and then, blessedly, finally, was on hers, and then she was kissing him with her mouth, with her entire body, and most likely her heart and soul, because, good Lord, the man could kiss. He gave her everything-his hands, his body, his tongue-and when they broke apart for air, he stared down at her in astonishment. “Damn.”

“What?”

“Just damn.” Eyes a little dazed, he took a step back, looking off his axis enough to send a surge of lust and power skittering through her, but she managed to control herself. Controlled and composed. Yeah, that was her, one hundred percent put together.

With hard nipples.

And a telling dampness between her thighs.

“You ever feel anything like that before?” he asked.

“Truthfully? It’s been so long, I can’t remember.”

His soft but not necessarily amused laugh ruffled the hair at her temple and ran down her spine. “Love your honesty.”

She didn’t. And she didn’t love the idea that anyone could have seen that wild kiss they’d just shared. What was the matter with her? She turned away, but he caught her, a hand curving around her shoulder. “Don’t go.”

She needed to. So needed to. “Listen, maybe we could forget about this, at least until I figure out what it is.”

His hand slid down her arm, settling on her waist, where his thumb lazily stroked one of her ribs. The motion liquefied her bones and altered her breath. “Forget it? I don’t think that’s possible. Did you feel that?”

“I felt…something.” Which she was fighting. She wasn’t sure why, when she’d wanted that kiss more than her next breath-but that hadn’t been just any kiss. No. And being with him wouldn’t be just sex, either, and she knew herself enough to know that she wasn’t quite equipped to walk away. Not from that.

And she was walking away. In a matter of weeks. Her job would be over, her grandmother’s home on the market…“It’s natural that we’d feel…” She watched him arch a curious brow. “This. Natural. I’m a woman, you’re a man.” A really, really hot man, but still. “Natural,” she repeated again, and tried to mean it. “We’ve been working hard, and not relaxing, and…”

His head dipped to hers, his eyes a lethal combo of heat and good humor. “So you’d feel this with everyone, then? Say, Dustin? Or Blake?”

“Okay, no. But-”

Triumph surged in his eyes to go with that heart-stopping heat. “Maybe we should do something about it.”

Yes, cried her body. Oh please, yes.

A bell sounded, thank God, and before she could form a response, the call went out for all the firefighters, no EMTs required.

Aidan popped his head in for Zach, who nodded, then looked down into her face. “We can finish this when I get back.”

“No need,” she said quickly.

“Oh, there’s a need.”

And then he was gone.

Brooke spent most of the day out on transport calls with Dustin, and though she gave her all to what she was doing, her mind wandered. Not to the house she needed to sell, or how it was going to make her feel to leave a place she was slowly, reluctantly, started to think of as hers, but to a man and his kiss, and to the fact that he was making her yearn and burn when she never yearned and burned.

“Where are you today, New Hire? Disneyland?” Dustin shot her an exasperated look after having to ask her the same question three times in a row.

“I’m sorry. I’m preoccupied.”

He pushed up his glasses. “It’s because you guys haven’t knocked it out yet. That’s very preoccupying.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“Come on. Are you going to tell me that you don’t want to be with Zach?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “I’m going to tell you that. I don’t want to be with…”

He waited patiently, but the lie wouldn’t come off her damn tongue. Frustrated, she turned to look out the window, watching the town go by. Farmers’ market. An art gallery. An outdoor café. “It’s personal.”

“Hey, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. Hell, I’ve got the same problem.”

“You want to have sex with Zach?”

He pushed up his glasses again, grinned, and pulled into the station. “Not quite.” He hopped out and walked away whistling, getting inside before she could ask him who he had the same problem with.

Zach and Aidan’s rig was in the garage, and her heart skipped a beat. The kiss, the kiss, the kiss…it was all she could think about. That, and getting another. And then she stepped into the kitchen and found Zach just standing there, looking ten kinds of wow.

He was in his gear, a little dusty, a little sooty and a whole lot sexy. He was still practically shimmering with adrenaline from the fire he’d just fought, looking far too edgy to be the laid-back, easygoing surfer guy she knew him to be.

And far too much for her to handle, no matter how much her body sent up a plea to let it do just that. He was too experienced for her, too…everything.

She’d spent too much time in her life trying to get somewhere, trying to find herself, to let a man like this in. Unfortunately, right now, at this very second, she wasn’t thinking about finding herself. She was thinking about seeing him naked. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah.”

But that was a lie, and that haze of lust he always created faded a little as she stepped closer. “Did anyone get hurt?” Or God forbid, like in the Hill Street fire that she knew haunted him, die.

“No.”

But the memory of something bad was etched in the drawn, exhausted lines of his face. He took his losses hard, very hard, and that fact only deepened how she felt about him. “I’m just tired,” he said. “And needed a moment alone.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” And she went to leave, because she understood that, but then he added, “I don’t want to be alone from you.”

She turned to look at him, but he’d moved closer and she bumped right into him. Her chest to his, his thighs to hers, and she actually let out a shuddering sigh that might have been a moan.

“What was that?”

Oh, just her brain cells blowing fuses left and right. “Nothing.”

Snagging her hand, he held her close, peering into her face. “You let out a…sound.”

“Yes. It’s called breathing.”

His hand slid to her waist and gently squeezed. “It sounded like more.”

How about a sexually charged, needy whimper? Did it sound like that? “No.”

His gaze searched hers for a moment. “Maybe we should talk about the kiss.”

Kisses. Plural. “Probably we shouldn’t. It might lead to…”

More. He was waiting for her to speak.

“I think I heard the fire alarm.”

“Huh,” he said, sounding curious.

“What?”

“You’re not as honest as I thought.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Really?” His hand slid to the small of her back and stroked lightly. “Then what are you thinking right now?”

That he’d look mighty fine naked. “That I’m hungry.”

Not a lie. She was hungry. For his yummy body.

“Brooke…”

“Yeah. Listen.” She let out a breath. “I’m trying to resist you here, okay? I’m failing miserably, but I’m trying.”

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the question of the year. “Because this is unlike me, this thing we have going on. I don’t flirt, and I certainly don’t do…whatever it is you’re thinking right now.”

“Never?”

“No, not-not in a long time.”

“That’s just not right, Brooke.”

Just the image of what they were talking about gave her an odd shiver and changed her breathing, and she realized he wasn’t breathing all that steadily, either. “Not helping, Zach.”

He laughed-at himself, at her, she had no idea really, but she found herself staring up at him, torn between marveling at the ease with which he showed his emotions and laughing back because the sound of his genuine amusement was contagious. “Happy to amuse you.”

“I’m sorry.” Still smiling, he sighed. “Ah, hell, that felt good. Laughing.”

“Laughing at me felt good.”

“Oh, no.” Gently, he tugged on her ponytail. “Definitely laughing with you, I promise. And I should be resisting, too. But I can’t seem to do that.”

His words caused more of those interesting shivers down her spine, and to other places, as well, secret places that wanted reactivating. Standing there in the hallway, way too close to this sexy man, a smile wanting to split her face, laughter spilling in her gut, she realized something.

Whether she’d meant to or not, she’d made roots here, temporary ones, but roots she would treasure and remember always. And now she wanted to strip naked and let him do things to her, lots of things, things that would create more lasting memories that she could take with her. “So how often, when you give that look to a woman, when you talk to her in that low, sexy voice, when you touch her, do her clothes just fall off?”

When he opened his mouth, she shook her head. “No, you know what? I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. Because I was on board for that. The clothes-falling-off thing. But…”

“But…?”

“But I’m not mixing business and pleasure, no matter how sexy you are. I can’t, much as I want to. I just can’t, not for anything less than a meaningful, lasting relationship, a real connection.”

Her own words shocked her but she found she meant them. To the bone. Being in her grandmother’s house had obviously sent that yearning within her rising to the surface, and she couldn’t help it. “I mean it. I’m sorry if I let you think otherwise, but I really do.”

Looking torn between bafflement and disappointment, he nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry if I led you on. If it helps, I led myself on, too. I hope we’re still friends.” All that was left to do was walk away gracefully, when in her heart of hearts she didn’t want to walk away at all. She started with one step, a baby step, and then another. “I also hope that the rest of your shift goes well,” she managed.

“Thank you. That’s…friendly of you.”

Was he was mocking her? “Well,” she said primly, backing to the door. “Just because we’re not going to…”

“Mix business and pleasure,” he supplied helpfully.

“Yes.” Because obviously he was not looking for a deep or meaningful relationship, or he’d have said so. “It doesn’t mean that we can’t get along.”

“I think,” he said slowly, in a tone she couldn’t quite place, “that we’re not going to have a problem in that department.”

No. No, they weren’t.

She nodded, and managed to turn and leave, but in the hallway, alone, she leaned back against a wall and let out a long breath. There. That hadn’t been hard or awkward.

Ah, hell. It’d been plenty of both.

But she’d done the right thing. Now she wouldn’t fall for him and mourn him after she left. Yep, definitely the right thing.

Damn it. Why couldn’t she have gotten all self-protective after she’d gotten to see him naked? Brooke turned around to look at the closed kitchen door, nearly going back in, but she restrained herself.

The right thing. 6 SEVERAL SHIFTS LATER, Brooke was sitting outside the fire station on a rare break, laptop open, flipping through a national job database to see where she might go after the house sold and this job ended in a few weeks.

The warm sun beat down on her, the waves across the street providing the perfect white noise. It should have been incredibly peaceful. Instead, she was thinking about Zach. About the kissing. About her opening her mouth and saying that she wasn’t going to mix pleasure and business.

She’d meant it, but she really regretted saying it.

Cristina came outside. She wore her blue uniform trousers, a pair of kick-ass boots and a tiny white tank top, which emphasized a figure that a Playboy model would envy. Chomping into a red apple, she glanced at Brooke. “Are you actually relaxing, New Hire?”

“Brooke. My name’s Brooke.” This was now a three-week-old refrain between the two of them.

Hard to believe she’d been in California for so long already, but it was a fact. And as she always did, Cristina shrugged. “Hey, I called Number Four Skid Mark, so consider yourself lucky.”

She would. Cristina might be sarcastic and caustic but she was brutally honest, emphasis on brutally, and loyal to a fault. In short, if you were on her good side, you had a friend to the death. Brooke knew the two of them weren’t there, not even close, but at least she didn’t have a nickname she couldn’t live with.

“There’s no point in remembering your name when you all eventually quit,” Cristina continued.

“I’m not leaving until my six weeks are up. I’m just past halfway.”

Leaning back against a tree, Cristina studied Brooke with interest. “People who aren’t from around here rarely stick.”

“Gee, really? Even with your sweet and welcoming attitude?”

Cristina smiled. “It’s too bad you’re not sticking. You could grow on me.”

“I am sticking. Until the job is over.”

“Speaking of sticking, I hear you were sticking to Officer Hottie’s lips. That true?”

Oh, boy. “Officer Hottie?”

“Yeah. So were you?”

“That’s…” She settled for the same line she’d given Dustin. “Personal.”

“How personal?”

Wasn’t that the question. She and Zach had only kissed, but it seemed like more, and there’d been lots of close encounters since…All she knew was that the wild sexual tension seemed unrelenting.

And overwhelming.

She really wanted to face that tension, and release it.

Let loose.

Assuming Zach still wanted to.

“I know my faults,” Cristina said into her silence. “I’m sarcastic, mean and I don’t like many people. But Zach? I like him. A whole lot. He’s going through a tough time, and he’s vulnerable.”

The thought of big, rough-and-tumble Zach being vulnerable might have been funny only a week ago but Brooke knew Cristina was right. “The arson thing?”

“The chief’s riding Tommy’s ass, and Tommy’s riding Zach’s. Zach could just shut up and walk away from it all, but it’s not in his blood to walk away, not when he knows he’s right. I care about him, we all care about him, and he needs to stay focused.”

“How do I threaten that?”

“You’re messing with his head. I’m the only one who does that.”

As warnings went, it wasn’t exactly subtle. “I didn’t realize you two were dating.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it dating,” Cristina said with a smile.

Okaaaaay. “What would you call it?”

Cristina just looked smug, then, standing up, grabbed hold of a tree branch above her. “Any new interesting calls lately?”

“Hard to top Viagra Man, but I’m sure there’s something just around the corner. What are you doing?”

“Pull-ups.” She did five in a row, and still managed to talk normally. “Cats and hard-ons. Interesting job, you have to admit.”

“True.”

“So where are you going when this is over?”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be far, far away.” Brooke just wished she knew where. She always knew-but this time nothing was coming to her.

Looking pleased, Cristina executed ten more pull-ups, then dropped to the ground to do push-ups.

Brooke went back to her laptop. Cristina didn’t seem to mind being ignored, and Brooke tried for some peace and quiet. When another set of footsteps came up the walk, she didn’t even bother to look up. She was busy, very busy, thank you very much, and needed no more distractions.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that all work and no play will make you a very dull girl?”

Everything within her went still at the sound of Zach’s low, husky voice. He wore his uniform, looking just hot enough that she felt little flickers of flame burst to life inside her. “Maybe I like dull.”

“Nobody likes dull.”

“I don’t know.” This from Cristina, now doing sit-ups on the grass like a machine. “I can believe she likes dull.”

With an irritated sigh, Brooke closed her laptop yet again and stood. She’d find another place to study. Some place where the not-so-subtle barbs couldn’t pierce her skin. Some place where there were no gorgeous, sexy firefighters making her yearn for things she shouldn’t, like a connection, a real connection. And letting loose…She made it to the door before a big, warm hand hooked her elbow and pulled her around.

For a guy who only moved when he needed to, she was surprised at how fast he’d caught her. “I’m busy,” she said with unmistakable irritation. She used that tone when she needed someone to back off, and it’d never failed her.

But it failed her now. Utterly.

“Yes, I can see that you’re very busy.”

Cristina, apparently finished torturing her body, walked past them with a smirk.

But Zach just studied Brooke’s face. “You’re always busy. You like it that way.”

So damn true. But they weren’t going there. “Where were you?”

“A meeting with the chief.”

He was no longer amused, and she read between the lines. “How did it go?”

“Terrific.”

“Really?”

“Sure. All I have to do is learn to respect authority, and everything will be just terrific. So were you and Cristina bonding?”

Nice subject change, she thought, but she saw misery in his eyes, and she didn’t want to poke at it. “Yeah. We’re like this.” She held up two entwined fingers.

He smiled.

“Officer Hottie?” she asked. “Really?”

He had the good grace to wince. “If it helps, I don’t answer to it.” It was just the two of them in the yard now, with no company except the light breeze and waves. Perfect time to tell him she wanted to mix business and pleasure, just once. He stood close enough that she could see flecks of dark jade swimming in that sea of pale green. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and maybe not yesterday morning, either, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body and seeping into hers. She could smell him, too, some delicious, intoxicating scent of pure male that had her nostrils twitching.

Bad nostrils. Tell him…

“Cristina doesn’t mean to be rude,” Zach said.

It made her laugh. “Yes, she does.”

“Okay, yeah. She does.”

“You’re all a very tight unit. I get that loud and clear.”

“We are. It’s what makes us so good. But there’s room for more. There’s room for you. You could fit in, if you wanted to.”

Her greatest fantasy…“If I wanted to?”

“Yeah, well, you have a tendency to stand on the outside looking in.”

“No, I don’t.”

He just looked at her, all patient and quietly amused, and she sighed. “Okay, I do.”

“But you don’t want to be on the outside looking in.”

How was it that he knew her? “We both know I don’t really fit in.”

“You could.”

“Uh-huh. Cristina’s waiting with open arms.”

His expression was serious now. “She’s had it rough and is a little distrustful, that’s all. It has nothing to do with you.”

She had a feeling it wasn’t only Cristina who’d had it rough. “You’re sleeping with her.”

Brooke hadn’t meant for that to escape from her lips. She wanted to pretend it hadn’t, but Zach’s brows had shot up so far on his forehead they vanished into his hair.

“Not that it matters,” she said quickly, trying like hell to backtrack. “Because it doesn’t.”

“It doesn’t?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. It really, really, really doesn’t-”

He set a finger on her lips and she shut up.

“Cristina and I are friends,” he said quietly. “We have been for a very long time.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and pulled it away. “And more than friends? Have you been more than friends for a very long time, as well?”

“Twice. A very long time ago.”

She didn’t want to acknowledge the relief that flooded through her at that. “You might want to remind her of that part the next time she’s going around marking her territory.”

“She has no territory to mark. Or I never would have kissed you like I did.” He ran a finger over her jaw.

A simple touch.

But there was nothing simple about the way her body reacted, starting with the breath backing up in her throat and her nipples tightening as they hoped for some attention, too. So much for not mixing business and pleasure, because there was pleasure when she was with him. Lots of it. “Oh boy.”

His gaze met hers. “Oh boy bad, or oh boy good?”

“We’re friends.”

“Yes.”

“Th-that touch felt like…more.”

“Did it?” He smiled innocently. “Then you’re the one mixing the business with the pleasure, aren’t you?”

She stared at him, but he only smiled, touched her again, then walked off, leaving her to talk to herself. “Am not,” she whispered.

But she was.

She so was.

The next day, Brooke and Dustin hit the ground running and never slowed. They delivered a baby at a grocery store, transported a set of conjoined twins, stood by at a bank robbery and helped locate two fingers belonging to a construction worker, who’d lost them in a pile of sawdust thanks to the blade of his handsaw. It was early evening before they finally made their way back to the station, where a delicious smell had Brooke’s nose twitching.

“Ohmigod,” Dustin moaned. “Smell that?”

“Tell me it’s for us.”

“If there’s a God.”

Following the scent into the kitchen, they found the crew grabbing plates and helping themselves to a huge pan of lasagna. Zach was already seated at the table, his uniform trousers and a gray T-shirt spread taut over that hard body.

Brooke’s gaze locked on his. They hadn’t spoken since yesterday, where she’d done that whole mixing-business-with-pleasure thing, confusing their issues.

Her issues.

The memory of their kiss-that deep, hot long kiss-was still burned in her mind. In spite of herself, she wanted another one, and she had a feeling it was all over her face.

“Ah, man,” Aidan moaned loudly from the table, mouth full-which didn’t stop him from loading more in. “This lasagna is better than sex.”

Cristina snorted. “Then you’re doing it wrong.” She took a bite, then also moaned. “But, oh yeah, baby, this is a close second. Nicely done, Officer Hottie.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “Thanks. I think.”

Brooke stared at him as she sat. “You cooked?”

“Well, we tried letting Cristina cook,” Aidan said. “Remember, Eeyore?” He nudged Blake with his elbow. “For your birthday?”

“Disaster,” Blake confirmed with a dour nod.

Aidan nodded, winking at Brooke as he successfully ruffled Cristina’s feathers. “Cristina here burns water with spectacular flare.”

“Hey, I’ve got other talents,” Cristina said.

Aidan grinned. “Sure you do.”

Cristina waved her fork in his face. “Don’t make me kick your ass.”

“You cooked,” Brooke repeated, looking at Zach.

“Why are you so surprised?”

“Because-” Because it was a hidden talent, and now she was wondering at his other hidden talents. “I’m just impressed, that’s all.”

“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century,” Cristina muttered, still glaring at Aidan. “Where men cook. And in case you haven’t heard, us women can vote now, too.”

Everyone laughed, and Brooke rolled her eyes, but when she looked around, she realized they weren’t laughing at her at all. She was included in the joke.

Zach was gazing at her, his mouth curved, looking relaxed and easygoing and, damn it, gorgeous, and something came to her in that moment.

She belonged.

Aidan and Cristina were still bickering, Blake and Dustin were thumb wrestling for the last serving of lasagna, Sam and Eddie were shoveling in their food and laughing over something…they were all as dysfunctional as they could be, and they were a family.

And she was a part of it.

Sam took the last of the lasagna and everyone protested. “Hey, there’s two kinds of people in here-the fast and the hungry. I’m the fast, that’s all.”

Zach smiled at Brooke with a genuine affection that stole her breath.

And replaced it with heat.

Oh boy, a lot of heat.

“Hey,” Sam said. “Don’t forget, I need everyone to sign up for party duty. The chief’s b-day bash isn’t going to throw itself.”

“Yeah, and why are we doing this again?” Blake asked, classic Eeyore.

“To have an excuse to have a party,” Eddie explained.

“To kiss up, you mean,” Blake said, sounding disgusted with all of them. “Don’t forget the kissing-up part.”

“Well, maybe if Zach spent some time kissing up-” Sam accompanied this with kiss-kiss noises “-he wouldn’t be called to the principal’s office to get spanked every other day.”

Zach sighed.

Cristina reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’d rather be spanked than hold my tongue.”

“Me, too,” Aidan said, in between mouthfuls of food. “Me, too.”

“Yes, but…” Blake sent Zach a frustrated look. “It wouldn’t hurt to lay low, let the chief get distracted by someone else’s ass once in a while.”

Zach shook his head.

No can do on the lying low thing, apparently.

“I can tell on Sam,” Eddie suggested. “For leaving porn in the bathroom. Maybe that would take some of the heat off Zach.”

“Hey, what did porn ever do to you?” Sam protested.

They all laughed, and Zach smiled, but Brooke could see that it didn’t reach his eyes.

Later, she sought him out in the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator for a bottle of water, then leaned back against the counter, taking a long drink. He was behaving himself. Not mixing business and pleasure.

He was also quiet. Hurting.

Telling herself she was crazy, she walked toward him and took the water from his hand.

He just looked at her.

“That friend thing…” she started.

“Yeah?” He gripped the edges of the counter by his sides, and she wondered if that was to ensure he didn’t touch her. She wished he could have put those hands on her, but she’d seen to it that he wouldn’t try.

For her own good.

Damn, she was tired of for her own good. “If we’re friends,” she said softly, “then I should be able to do this.”

“What?”

She set her hands on his chest, then let them glide up around his neck, bringing her body flush to his as she hugged him.

For one beat he held himself rigid, then with a low, rough breath, let his hands drop from the counter and come around her, hard.

She didn’t look into his face, knowing if she did, she’d kiss him again, and this was just a hug, comfort.

Friendship.

So she pressed her face into his throat and held on.

“Brooke,” he murmured, and the hand he had fisted in her shirt low on her back opened, pressing her even closer as he buried his face in her hair and just breathed her in. “Brooke-”

The kitchen door opened, and Eddie looked at them, brows raised. “If I cook tomorrow,” he asked, “can I have the same thank-you?”

Much later that night, back at her grandmother’s house, Brooke thought about the evening. About the hug and her reaction to it. Partially, because her body was still revved from what should have been an innocent touch, but there was more to it.

According to Sam, she could be the fast, or the hungry. But when it came to her life, she’d always been the fast, never slowing down, never relaxing, always doing, going, running. And for what? To always end up alone, wondering what she was missing? She’d come here out of duty, but she’d also wanted to find herself. Maybe…maybe she couldn’t do that at the speed of light, maybe she had to slow down. Maybe that’s what was missing.

She needed to give herself time to catch her breath, time to relax.

Needed to do that whole let-loose thing.

Moving through the kitchen with a mug of tea, she looked out the window at the dark night and thought about it, thought about Zach. As she did, a now-familiar tingle began low in her belly and spread. And suddenly, she had a feeling she knew exactly how she should be letting loose. And it included mixing business and pleasure.

A lot of mixing.