Jill Shalvis - Flashpoint

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.

Zach ran in the mornings. It woke him up, kept him in shape and gave him time to think. Typically, he thought about work or, more recently, Brooke. He really liked thinking about Brooke.

But this morning, after having a dream about the arson fire, it wasn’t Brooke on his mind, and he changed his routine, running past Hill Street. When he reached the fire site, he thought maybe he was still dreaming.

The place had been demolished, razed.

He stared at it in disbelief. On a hunch, he ran back to his house, got into his truck and drove to the site of a different fire, the one from a few months previous, a fire he’d also “cried” arson to Tommy about and had gotten his wrist slapped for.

That property was also demolished.

And the one before that? Yeah. Demolished. Standing at the edge of the third lot, where nothing remained but dirt, he pulled out his cell phone, but didn’t hit any numbers as his last meeting with the chief ran through his head. He’d been asked, and not very nicely, to do his own job and no one else’s.

Somehow he doubted stalking the fire sites would be considered doing his own job.

Shit. Tommy Ramirez had told him to be on his best behavior, but that was proving damn hard to do. Driving home, he called Aidan, but had to leave a message. While waiting for a return call, he tried to distract himself with a Lakers game but his mind kept wandering to the arson.

He couldn’t let it go. Driven to do something, Zach pulled out his laptop. He’d already typed up all his thoughts and notes on the fires. Now he needed to talk it out with someone, and oddly enough, the person that kept coming to mind wasn’t Aidan, but someone with sweet baby blues and a smile that pretty much destroyed him.

Brooke. He was driven by her, too, because, damn, she was something. She was something, and…and she wanted a relationship.

Driven as he was, he didn’t do relationships. Relationships always came to an end, and he hated endings. He didn’t need a shrink to attribute that to losing his parents so young, to growing apart from the brother he had nothing in common with except grief and, in a way, losing him, too.