Tommy’s expression was apologetic but firm. “Past tense.”
Zach let out a breath. “Jesus, Tommy.”
“I know you want to come back to work, but I’m advising you to wait.”
“You don’t think-”
“What I think is that you’re in danger.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You’ve been a damn thorn for me, Zach, and we’re on the same side. Imagine how the bad guy feels about you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re getting close. Close enough for the arsonist to try to hurt you. He burned Phyllis’s house because you care about her. Then at the warehouse fire, you were hit.”
“By a burning piece of ceiling.”
“By a chunk of debris, yes, but I’ve been at the site. I think it was thrown at you.”
Zach staggered to a chair and sat.
“I’ve combed every inch of that site,” Tommy said. “You went back in where you weren’t supposed to, and I believe you almost caught the arsonist red-handed.”
“But the only people inside at that point, besides the victims, were firefighters.”
Tommy just looked at him, and that’s when he finally got it. They weren’t looking for some nameless criminal.
It was someone they all knew.
Chapter 16
After everyone had gone, Brooke grabbed a trash bag and started to clean up.
“Leave it,” Zach told her, weary to the bone. “I can do it.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You’re going to do it?”
“Yes.”
“Even though you’ve barely moved all night?”
He lifted a shoulder, which pulled at his burns and had pain shooting through him. He didn’t make a sound, he very carefully didn’t make a sound, but she was at his side in a heartbeat.
“Damn stubborn man,” she murmured, helping him up.
Suddenly, all he could think about was how her hands felt on him. “What are you doing?”
“Putting you to bed.”
Just the words had his body leaping to attention. Even in pain and pissed off at the world, he could still get it up for her. “Sorry, but I’m bound to disappoint you tonight.”
“Shut up, Zach.”
Upstairs in his room, she got him onto the bed. He looked up into her face. Her beautiful face. She was worried sick, and, he realized with some shame, that he was not the only one hurting. “I talked to Tommy tonight. He said he believed me.”
“What?” Brooke went still. “Oh, Zach,” she breathed. “I’m so glad! Does he know who the arsonist is?”
This was the hard part. “He suspects an inside job.”
“Inside…” Her mind worked fast, and she gasped. “No.”
“The warehouse fire wasn’t an accident.” He went to reach for her and gritted his teeth at the pain.
“I’m going to get your meds and water. Don’t move.”
When she was gone, he tried to pull off his shoes, but the cast on his arm felt heavy. Plus, moving hurt. Not feeling up to taking off his own damn shirt, much less his pants, he lay back on the bed, out of breath and frustrated.
“Why don’t you get undressed?” she asked, coming back into the room with a glass of water and a pill.
He closed his eyes. “Yeah. Good idea.”
“Need help?”
“No. I can do this. Seriously.”
“Seriously? Get real, Zach.” He felt her hands pulling off his shoes, heard them hit the floor one at a time. “Because, seriously? You are full of shit.” Carefully, with a surprisingly gentle touch considering the sarcasm in her voice, she helped him out of his shirt. “So what else did Tommy say?”
“That I’ve pissed off the arsonist.”
She went still. “You’re in danger?”
“I’m safe here.”
Her eyes searched his as her hands slid over his bare chest.
Instead of the pain he’d felt for days, all he felt was the touch of her warm hands. She was better than Vicodin. Then she trailed those hands down and reached for the buttons on his Levi’s. “You still need my help, right?”
Oh, yeah. He nodded, and pop went the first button. And then the second, and suddenly Zach was breathing as if he’d been running.
She wasn’t breathing too steadily, either.
“Okay, maybe I’d better do this.” His hands were shaking as he pulled open the rest of the buttons, but shoving the denim down his legs required grating his teeth and lifting his hips. By the time he got them down a mere inch, he was beginning to sweat.
“Here.” She got on the bed for leverage, straddling his lower legs, and pulled his jeans down to his thighs, revealing the fact that he’d gone commando that morning.
Which left the part of him that was the happiest to see her bouncing free.
Her eyes widened.
“I told you I should do this.”
“I’m sorry.” She was still staring.
“Not helping.”
At that, Brooke actually snickered, but he could hear the breathlessness in the sound.
And the wanting.
“Yeah,” he managed. “Still not helping.”
“Right.” She scrambled off his legs.
Good. Great. She was going away. But then she pulled his jeans the rest of the way off, tossing them to the floor. Leaving him buck naked.
“You…need a blanket.”
Which was beneath him. He rolled toward her just as she leaned in to try to pull it out from under him, and they bumped into each other.
“Sorry,” she gasped, but in countering her own movement, she bumped into him again.
They went utterly still.
He had his hands on her arms. She had hers braced on his chest, and she was still staring at the part of him boring a hold in her belly.
“Zach?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“You seem to need some…” Her gaze met his. “Letting loose.”
He laughed, which hurt like a son of a bitch.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s just what I need.” You… And with that, he tugged her overtop of him.
At the full body contact with Zach, what happened within Brooke was what happened every time-a shockingly intense, insatiable hunger arose. “Zach-”
