Burn for You (21 page)

Jason shrugged. “Right now, I don’t think he cares about everything else.”

They continued chopping the peppers, mainly in silence, and Victoria worked at keeping her eyelids open. Stifling a yawn, she searched for a subject that would keep her awake. “I’m sure you noticed that this third fire was also in Station Three’s area.”

He nodded, pausing in his chopping to look at her with concerned eyes. “I did notice. I also couldn’t help noticing that this time he targeted an event that was crawling with police and firefighters.”

“You’re right. Between my family and my brother’s friends from Chicago PD, I’d imagine there were fifty or more cops and firefighters at the reception.”

“Yes. That’s what concerns me.” He put down his knife and leaned on his elbows over the kitchen island. “You know that two of the three explosions from the daycare center happened
after
firefighters had entered the building, right?”

“You think that was intentional? That first responders are the target for this guy?”

“I do.”

“But what about the warehouse fire?”

“There was a ton of demolition explosives in the back of the warehouse. They never detonated because firefighters got the flames under control before they reached the explosives. I think the hope was to do more damage than he was actually able to accomplish.”

“Wow.”

“There’s more. In talking to the hotel staff today, the rooms blocked off for your brother’s wedding were primarily on the sixth floor.”

Her grip tightened on the knife. This was personal now. There was no denying that someone had targeted
her
family. And for Victoria, the word
family
included her brothers and sisters in uniform.

“Why would someone do this?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He came around to her side of the kitchen island, gently took the knife from her hand, and set it on the counter. “I don’t have a good feeling about your firehouse at the moment. And I’m more than a little concerned about you being there.”

“You still think the person responsible is from Station Three?”

He nodded once. “I think they’re either part of it or they’re targeting someone in it. Or both.”

“I’ll do my best to find out.”

“No.” He shifted their positions so her back was to the island and his legs were tucked between hers. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”

“We’ve talked about this before, Jason. I know how to talk to people without being obvious. I’m not an idiot.” When he shook his head, she continued before he could protest. “Look. I don’t even have to ask questions. I’ll observe. I’ll listen. And I’ll tell you whatever I find out.”

Jaw clenched, he let out a frustrated breath through his nose.

“I’m smart,” she said. “I won’t fuck this up.”

His grip on her waist tightened and her body warmed from being in direct contact with his from her legs to her chest. “I know you’re smart, Victoria. I also know that if it ever came down to a choice between getting information about a potential killer or your safety, you’d risk your own safety. You wouldn’t even give it a second thought if it meant saving someone else.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You covered that daycare worker with your body during the blast. You’re hardwired to be a hero.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked, breathlessly, finding it impossible to concentrate when he looked at her this way—like he could devour her whole.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Well…” She fought the pull of his light blue eyes—eyes that were hypnotically darker around the edges. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” Except for when it came to Jason apparently. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t do this again, but here she was, tilting her head back in anticipation of his kiss.

His lips met hers, tentatively at first, but when she lacked the self-preservation to pull away, his mouth covered hers with increasing urgency.

Grabbing her ass with both hands, he hoisted her up onto the kitchen island. Her traitorous legs instinctively wrapped around him, the desire to be close far outweighing common sense.

She ran her hands up his arms, loving the feel of his hard biceps beneath the thin cotton of his dress shirt. His mouth was hot and insistent, warming her from within until a pulsing heat gathered at her center.

And then it stopped—the heat of his mouth gone, replaced by a cold nothing.

Blinking, Victoria recovered enough to realize his phone had been ringing.

“This is Meadows.” There was a small satisfaction in seeing him a little breathless, trying to feign a calm demeanor for whoever was on the other end of the line. “They’re ready for me?” he asked.

Victoria slid down from the kitchen island and resumed her work on Preston’s perfect peppers.

What a lucky interruption. If not for that phone call, she’d have completely forgotten her vow to stop torturing herself with Jason.

He paced a few steps, nodding his head. “Right…Okay…Be back as soon as I can.” Hanging up, he looked at Victoria and sighed. “I have to go.”

“I know. They’re ready for you to take a closer look at the sixth floor?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, if you want to take my car, I’ll stay here and finish our debt to Preston.”

“I’m sorry.” He moved toward her and she turned to more fully face the kitchen island, leaning over the cutting board and her work, avoiding his gaze.

“I hate to leave you with all this shit to do,” he said. “I never should’ve agreed to Preston’s deal.”

“It’s okay,” she said, hoping her voice sounded bright and unruffled. “I like to cook. And besides, he amuses me. I think I like the eccentric, genius Preston.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him hesitate, and she worked more diligently on her slicing, moving the knife quickly and efficiently.

“All right, then. I’ll be back in a few hours, I hope.”

“No problem. Take your time.” Take all the time in the world. And maybe while he was gone she’d get her shit together. Maybe she’d figure out a way to tell him that she could do the friends part, but the benefits were off the table. Maybe she’d figure out how not to get her heart broken.

* * *

Victoria knocked softly on Preston’s partially open office door. “Hello? Mind if I come in?”

Preston moved his fingers at supersonic speed over the keyboard, not even missing a beat as he answered, “Sure, come on in.”

“I’ve got your favorite writing snack.” She set the three-sectioned tray on his desk.

“Oh, you’re an angel.” He stopped typing, swiveled his chair to face her, and grabbed a yellow pepper, eating it with the same enthusiasm as a seven-year-old with a French fry. “Where’s Jase? He leave you to do all his work?”

She sat in the cozy-looking wingback chair positioned in the corner of his office. “He got called back to the scene.”

“Ah, likely story.”

Victoria smiled, enjoying Preston’s good humor. “So, I think you should know, I’m a fairly excellent cook. I’ve looked over your fridge and I have some ideas for these seven lunches and dinners, but I thought I’d check to see if you had any special requests.” In other words, what weird quirks should she know about? Could the side dishes touch the main dish? What about vegetables? Could she mix them together or did the colors have to stay separate like his precious peppers?

“I am surprisingly easy to please when it comes to food. I’m only particular about peppers. And that’s more superstition than anything else. It was my snack of choice when I wrote my first best seller. Now it’s good luck.”

“Like a baseball player’s lucky socks?”

Grinning, he nodded. “You know it.” He snagged another yellow pepper and pointed it at her. “So, here’s what I want to know. What’s your stance on unconventionally handsome, reclusive writers?”

“My stance?” Was he coming on to her? Uncomfortable, Victoria sat forward in the chair, ready to make a hasty exit.

“I’m kidding. Geez, what a face.” He laughed, clearly amused by her awkward response. “Trust me. I’m well aware that you and Jason are a thing.”

“Wha—Why would you think that?”

“Why wouldn’t I think that? You two show up here, he can’t take his eyes off you, you’re all finishing each other’s sentences—It was pretty obvious.”

She warmed at the idea, but felt the need to protest, if only to give herself a dose of reality. No need to go making plans and picking out baby names like she’d done with Graham. Nope, she wasn’t reading more into things than actually existed. She’d done enough of that in the past few years.

“I’m just doing what I can to help him out on this arson case.”

Preston scoffed. “Right. Since when does a cop need a paramedic’s help on an investigation?" Obviously reading the insulted expression on her face, Preston was quick to clarify. “I’m not saying you couldn’t be of help to him. I’m just saying that you’re there because he wants you there. Not because he needs you there.”

“I think you’re overestimating his interest and underestimating my importance. He thinks a firefighter might be responsible for all of this. He needs someone inside the firehouse.”

Preston shrugged. “Maybe.” He gnawed thoughtfully on another pepper. “Can I tell you something?”

“Shoot.” She curled her feet under her in the big chair, careful to keep her legs together as she was still wearing that damn bridesmaid’s dress.

“It’s a big deal that Jason brought you here today.”

“How so?”

“Jason doesn’t talk about his past. With anyone. Ever. And I’m part of that past. So, bringing you here is a big deal.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Preston. I didn’t give him much of a choice. He was in my car when he got your call, and I just started driving.”

“Doesn’t matter. Jason can be stubborn when he wants to be. Obviously, he didn’t want to be.”

Curiosity about why Jason wouldn’t want to discuss his past gnawed at Victoria. “Jason said you were foster brothers?”

Preston nodded. “For a short time. He lived with my family for a year when he and I were about eight years old.”

“Why only for a year?” Knowing the goal of Family Services was to reunite children with their parents whenever possible, she asked, “Did he go back to live with his mother? Or was that after she’d passed away?”

“He told you about his mother?” His surprise was obvious.

“Only that she’d died when he was young…”

“Huh. I’ll be damned.” Without another word, Preston spun his chair back around and started typing.

“Preston…”

He continued typing, absorbed in his task.

There was a story here. One that Preston was suddenly reluctant to tell. “You can’t just start a story like this and then leave me hanging.”

“Actually,” he said, eyes still focused on the computer screen but lifting one finger to emphasize his point. “Good storytelling
should
leave the reader hanging.”

“Yes, but the reader can turn the page.” When his only answer was to keep pecking at the keyboard, she added, “I need you to turn the page, Preston.”

He stopped typing and slowly turned his chair back around, taking off his reading glasses. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you need me to turn the page?”

“Because I want to know.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to know about Jason?”

“Because I…Because…” Irritated, she turned the inquisition toward him. “Why did you start telling me about him if you weren’t going to tell the whole story?”

“Because I like you. Because when Jason asked to borrow one of my suits for your brother’s wedding, I could tell he felt differently about you than anyone who’d come before. And because…well…I suppose I wanted to warn you.”

“Warn me?”

“That at some point, he’ll push you away.”

“Why?”

“It’s his story to tell. Not mine. And I’m probably already interfering more than I should, but for once in his life, I’d like to see the poor bastard get the happiness he deserves.”

“So, you’re saying that I shouldn’t let him push me away?”

Preston nodded.

“Well, that’s great. That’s just great.” Frustration churned in her chest and boiled over in a short fit of hysterical laughter. “You came to the right girl, I tell ya what. I’m awesome at sticking around. I’m just fantastic at wearing out my welcome and hanging on to guys who aren’t interested in me—”

“Believe me, he’s interested in you—”

“Let me finish. I’m not doing it anymore. I wasted years nurturing a misplaced affection for another man. It was obvious that he didn’t feel the same way about me, and it didn’t matter. I read into his actions, his words. I convinced myself he had feelings for me when he didn’t. I’m not doing that again.”

Preston sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. “I can understand your hesitation with Jason, but you have to understand—”

“Then help me understand. Help me understand why I shouldn’t let him push me away. Because I’m tired of clinging—I’m tired of fighting for men who don’t want me.”

He looked up then, his gray eyes studying her intently. What was he looking for? What would it take for him to trust her with Jason’s secrets?

Perhaps she’d have to trust him with one of her own. “I’m scared.”

His eyes widened.

“We agreed to keep things casual, a truly no-strings arrangement. We agreed to that
last night
, and already—after less than twenty-four hours—I’m afraid of how much I want it to be more than that. So afraid that I think I’m going to walk.”