Flashpoint (6 page)

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.

S
EVERAL 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.

 

T
HE 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?”