Jill Shalvis - Flashpoint

She tried to picture the big, laid-back, easygoing Zach Thomas afraid of anything. After all, the man faced danger every single day on the job without so much as a flinch.

But that wasn’t the same.

In a way, work was much easier because it was pure testosterone and adrenaline. Putting himself on the line probably made Zach feel better about his losses, almost as if he were offering himself up to fate, as well. And as a bonus, he never had to open up emotionally, except with these guys, the brothers of his heart.

She got that; she’d done the same with her chosen career.

But Cristina and Dustin had managed to find something real, and Brooke wanted that. It was time, past time, to get it for herself, because if she’d learned anything today, it was that life was too damn short not to go for it. She stood up.

“What are you going to do?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“The best things are.” Aidan hugged her. “I hope it’s good complicated.”

“I hope so, too.”

* * *

“I tried calling you, Zachie.”

Zach sat at the side of Phyllis’s hospital bed. “I’m sorry. I can’t find my cell phone. I think I lost it in the warehouse fire.”

“Don’t worry.” Her voice sounded shaky. “You asked me not to demolish the house if someone asks, and I won’t. I was just telling Blake the same thing.”

“Blake came here to see you?”

“Yes. He wanted to talk about my house fire.”

“Why?”

Phyllis had a razor-sharp memory, but she’d been too doped up on meds for anyone to take advantage of that. Until now, apparently. “Because he was there. Yes,” she said at his surprise. “It finally came to me. It was Blake I saw standing on the perimeter of my property, holding a blowtorch.”

The air deflated from Zach’s lungs. Blake at the scene just before the fire, with an ignition device…“Phyllis, are you sure?”

“Well, when I brought it up, he said no, my memory was all twisted from the trauma, but…” She shook her head. “But I don’t believe it. I remember.”

Blake was the missing link? Blake connected all the fires?

Blake was the arsonist? It made no sense, and yet…and yet in a crazy way it made perfect sense-Blake’s ongoing obsession with fire, any fire, and his need to be near it, even the bonfire from the chief’s birthday party. “Phyllis, listen to me. I need you to trust me, okay? I have to go but I’ll be back.”

“Will you bring Cecile?”

“I’ll bring you more pictures of her, I promise.”

When he got to the parking lot and into his truck, he remembered-no cell phone. Running back inside the hospital, he went straight to a pay phone and called Tommy.

Tommy listened to every word and then said, “Go home. You hear me? Get home and keep your ass right there or I’ll get it fired.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Trust me, I’ll find a way.”

Frustration beat at Zach as he drove home, feeling useless and helpless-two emotions he couldn’t resent more. God, Blake…Could it be true?

And yet the evidence was there, at least circumstantially. The blowtorch at Phyllis’s was huge. And he’d been quiet and withdrawn and secretive for months, pushing all of them from his life.

Zach had to go see him, had to look into Blake’s eyes and judge for himself.

But Blake wasn’t home, so Zach went back to his place and paced a groove into his living room floor, which did nothing for his adrenaline level.

At the knock on his door, he opened it to the one person he’d have given everything to see.

Brooke, still wearing her uniform, eyes shadowed, mouth grim, looking like the best thing he’d seen all damn day.

“Damn, are you a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” she said. “I forgot to clock out at work.”

“Good. Because I’m not here, either. I’m on my way to find Blake’s ass and probably get mine fired.”

“You know where he is?”

“No.”

They both stood there and stared at each other, unsure what to say next.

“I’m really not here,” she finally said again, “telling you that I take back my goodbye.”

“Then I’m not really doing this.” Hauling her to him, he covered her mouth with his.

She sighed in pleasure and sagged against him, fisting her hands in his shirt to keep him close.

As if that was necessary.

“Zach,” she murmured. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah.”

But then she nipped at his lower lip, making him groan. He stroked his tongue to hers, his hands running down her body, filling them with her glorious curves. “We’ll talk,” he promised her. “In a minute. Maybe ten.” He needed to lose himself in her before he faced the unthinkable-that one of their own was an arsonist.

Not going there, not yet. He kicked the door shut, tugging her upstairs to his bedroom.

She stared at his bed. “First I really need to tell you what I came for-”

“You haven’t come yet.” He nudged her onto the bed and followed her down. “But you’re going to.”

Zach’s words sent a shiver of desire skittering down Brooke’s spine. In his eyes was a fierce intensity-for her, which she loved, but also the same grief she’d seen in Cristina’s.

He knew about Blake.

He kissed her, hard. She knew he was hurting and destroyed over Blake’s betrayal, that he was trying to lose himself in her. She understood. She wanted to get lost in him, too.

He pulled off her shirt, and she did the same for his, sliding her hands up his heated skin, feeling the hard planes beneath quiver for more. “Are we letting loose again?”

“No.” His mouth slid over her neck, her shoulder, making its way toward a breast. “This time it’s more, damn it.” He curled his tongue around her nipple.

Sinking her fingers into his hair, she arched up into his mouth. “More?”

“Everything’s all fucked up.” His voice was low, raw, as he slid a hand into her panties.

His physical pain matched the mental anguish in his eyes, and both broke her heart. “I know.”

“Except this, with you.” He tugged her panties down to her thighs to give him better access. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Pull a woman’s pants down?”

“No, smart-ass. Get into a relationship.”

When his gaze caught hers, she couldn’t look away. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“I thought you were safe. You’re leaving, for Christ’s sake. You’re outta here. Can’t get much safer than that.”

Moved by his pain and frustration, she pressed her forehead to his. “Zach.”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to fall for a woman with one foot already out the door. It was never going to happen.”

She closed her eyes.

“But goddamn it, it did.”

Before she could open her mouth, he covered it with his. Reality had no place then, no place at all. Until she smelled smoke. “Zach-”

“I know. We’re both idiots.”

“No.” She coughed. “Smoke.”

“Uh-huh. I think I’m on fire.”

“No, I mean real smoke.” Just as she said this, his smoke alarm went off.

“What the-” Eyes hot, body hard, his face was a mask of frustration as he lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Shit, it is smoke.” He pulled free and leaped off the bed, staring at the wisps curling beneath the bedroom door.

“Zach!”

“I see it.” He tossed her his phone from the night-stand. “Call it in!” He ran into the bathroom, coming out with towels, which he shoved under the door to block the smoke while she called 911.

Coughing, choking, Brooke dashed to the window and then gasped. Zach peered over her shoulder and swore.

Down on the grass far below stood Blake. He was propped up on one crutch, face gray, holding a blowtorch as he looked right at them.

Zach threw Brooke her clothes and shoved his feet into his jeans. Then he reached under his bed and pulled out a portable rope ladder. “My house is on fire. My damn house is on fire. I’m going to kill him.”

But Brooke was still staring at Blake, who had tears running down his face as he limped toward the door, vanishing inside.

“He’s in-” Brooke gasped, still coughing. “Zach, Blake’s inside.” The smoke tightened in her lungs so that she couldn’t talk.

Zach covered her mouth with a towel. “Breathe into that.” He tossed the ladder out the window. Straddling the ledge, he reached for her. “Come on. You’re going down and out. Quickly.” He pulled her out the window and onto the rope. “Don’t stop until your feet touch the ground. Got that?”

Right. Don’t stop. Except she wanted to stop. She wanted to stop time and go back to a few minutes ago, when he’d been about to bury himself deep inside her, telling her he’d fallen. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Go!” His voice was already hoarse, his eyes flashing fear and anger. “I’m getting Blake, then I’ll be right behind you-”

“Zach-”

“Brooke, listen to me.” He gave her a little shake. “You have to be out of here for me to do this.”

“But-”

“No, I mean it. I can’t lose you. I can’t.” He set his forehead to hers. “I can’t do this with you still in here, in danger.”

He meant he couldn’t lose another person who meant so much to him. Brooke’s heart swelled until it felt too big for her body.

“Please go,” he said, hugging her hard. “Because if something happens to you-”

“It won’t, it won’t. I’m going.” She squeezed him tight, breathing through the towel and still coughing. “But you should know something. I love you, Zach.”

He looked staggered. “Brooke.”

“I do. I love you.” It’d probably sound better if she could talk more clearly, but she could tell he understood. “And I swear to God if you die in here, I’ll come find you and kill you again.”

He choked out a laugh. Off in the distance they could finally hear sirens. “Go.”

“Going.” And down the ladder she went, leaving him to face Blake alone.