Burning Up (13 page)

She moaned deep in her throat and savage satisfaction flared through him.
Yes. Like that. Mine.

The thought jarred him.
No.
He tore his mouth from hers, staring down at her for a second while confusion roiled in his gut. What was he thinking? He didn’t do possessive. He was just looking for a nice uncomplicated fuck. Yeah. Uncomplicated. None of that flowers/chocolates/lovey-dovey shit.

He lowered his mouth to hers once again.

Yet even as his mouth ravaged hers, even as the rock, the press, the rub of his body against hers drew forth more soft sounds from her throat, his thoughts jumped to the kiss he’d caught Savage giving Grace outside the Red Dog. Which made him wonder just what the hell Macy’s relationship was with the guy.

He shoved it out of his head. Because what the freaking hell did he care what their relationship was? It wasn’t as if this was leading to anything exclusive. But the sweet heat of Macy’s mouth, the soft compliance of her body moving against his, made ignoring it pretty much out of the question. He tried. But the deeper he kissed her to make himself forget, the more he
wondered.
Had she moved like this, moaned like this for Savage? No matter how hard he worked to push the question away, his mind kept circling back to worry it like a puppy with a knotted rag.

Until finally he tore his mouth free and demanded, “Does it bug you that Savage was kissing Grace the other night?”

“Wha?” Licking her lips, she blinked at him as if she were in a fog. Slowly her eyes focused. “Jack kissed Grace?”

Oh, hell.
“Yeah. I thought you knew.”

No, she didn’t. And wasn’t that interesting, Macy thought. She’d spent several hours with Jack this week, arguing over which song should be Aussie Kiss’s first release from their upcoming album and thrashing out the finer points of her concept for its
video. And Jack, who wasn’t usually shy about discussing the women who interested him, hadn’t said boo about locking lips with Gracie.

But that was something to consider later when her body wasn’t throbbing with unsatisfied lust. Now, she looked up at Gabe. “What do you care if he was or not?” she demanded. “You dumped her, but nobody else can kiss her?”

“I didn’t dump her! And that’s not the point—”

Her heart dropped. “Are you two still together?” Oh, crap, that wasn’t what Grace had said.

“Well, no, but—”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “But nothing, bub. Unless… Did
she
break up with you?” Although, again, that wasn’t what—

“No, but—”

“Then you
did
dump her, Donovan.” And yet here he was, less than a week later, putting the moves on
her.
Not that she hadn’t liked every moment of it. But still, he was kissing her but thinking about
Grace?
“Jeez! Men are such dogs.” Shaking her head, she stepped back from him, careful to watch her step so he’d have no reason to touch her again. “And what the hell am I doing here, anyhow, helping one of your species?”

She jumped down. “Do your own siding. And don’t forget to bring Auntie’s cooler back!”

“Dammit, Macy!”

She stormed off, refusing to acknowledge that her anger might have less to do with Gabriel’s interest
in Grace than it did his effect on her. Everything about him lit her up: the way he looked—all that heat and muscle and smooth, taut skin. The way he moved, so lithe and powerful. And then there’d been his laugh—God, that
laugh.
It had turned her inside out every bit as much as his scorching kisses. It had rolled up from his belly and stopped her heart—then set it thundering again.

The man made her just plain stupid, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like the thumping pulse, the kiss-me, do-me,
kiss
-me impulses that sparked through her veins, along her nerve endings, simply because he was near. This wasn’t her. She’d learned a long time ago to slap on a front, to laugh and flirt and call the shots. But Gabe left her feeling all out of control. Every damn time.

Well, screw that. Stalking over to the ’Vet, she climbed in and cranked over the engine with a roar. Slamming it into gear she backed in a tight circle, then threw it into First and roared back down the drive.

Screw it, screw it, screw it. That crap stopped
now.

G
ABE HEARD
M
ACY
talking to Lenore in the kitchen and came to a halt out in the hallway. He had to rein in his first impulse, which was to march in there and demand to know what her problem was. He’d asked one pertinent, perfectly reasonable question the last time they were together and her response was to get all bent out of shape and storm off? Not to mention that for the past week and a half, ever since that day, except for the occasional well-chaperoned glimpse at dinner, he’d barely clapped eyes on her.

For someone so red-hot conspicuous, she sure as hell had a knack for disappearing when the mood hit her.

“Isn’t he cute, Auntie?” he heard her say now. “He followed me home. Can I keep him?”

“Depends on how house-trained he is,” Lenore replied dryly.

She’d allowed a dog to follow her home? What was the story on that?

He snorted. As if he’d be the first one she’d rush to tell. But he’d bet the farm it was a male critter she’d flirted with until it’d had no choice but to dog her footsteps.

With a shrug, he continued into the dining room to take his seat, absentmindedly returning greetings to the AAE boys and Mr. Grandview. What the hell did he care? It was nothing to him what Macy did, and besides, he was bound to hear the entire story at dinner, anyway. Still, if she had picked up a stray mutt somewhere, he’d put money down it wasn’t a real dog like a golden retriever or a Weimaraner. She’d probably adopt one of those bug-eyed little ankle nippers that seemed to spend their lives wearing weird-ass outfits and riding around in chicks’ purses.

It turned out he was wrong—and he came halfway out of his seat when a geeky-looking guy, staring at Macy as if he’d won the Mega Millions Lotto, trailed her into the dining room. Then Gabe resettled. Gave his shoulders an impatient roll. So, again, big deal. No skin off his stones.

“Hey, everyone, meet Jeremy. Jeremy, this is…everyone. Grab a seat,” she urged him, grasping his scrawny wrist and hauling him over until they were directly across from Gabe. “Here’s a couple together.” She grinned at the guy, plopped down next to him when he sat, then quickly went around the table solicitously identifying everyone for him.

Since she and her pet nerd were the last to arrive, the platters started around the moment she concluded introductions. Gabe watched as she fussed over the weedy little guy, helping him select the choicest piece of fried chicken from the platter and picking the plumpest biscuit for him.

Today she wore her hair puffed at the crown and her eyes more thickly lashed than usual, as well as dramatically outlined in black. She had on tight black capris, high-heeled sandals and a black polka-dotted white bra—or so the latter garment appeared to him.

“Christ,” he muttered. “I guess if it’s Tuesday, it must be sex-kitten day.”

Jack grinned. “Macy likes to channel her inner Brigitte Bardot occasionally.”

“You’d know.” Gabe glowered at him, too, because…hell, he didn’t know why. Just for drill.

“Don’t bark at Jack,” Macy snapped.

“You’re right. Sorry, pal,” he said without taking his gaze off her. “I’m just wondering why it doesn’t bother you she’s wearing her underwear in public.” The two of them being so tight and all.

“Probably because he knows the difference between underwear and this,” she retorted in a tone suggesting he was an idiot.

And he must be, because given its underwire cups and lingerie straps he sure as hell couldn’t see the distinction. Brows furrowing, he gave Jack an
Is she serious?
look.

Jack merely shrugged. “Don’t ask me, mate.”

Bud leaned forward to look down the table at Macy’s date. “So, Jeremy, you new in town?”

The geek tore his gaze from Macy’s cleavage. Squinted at the older man. “I’m just visiting my cousin Henry.”

“And yet instead of hanging with him,” Gabe muttered, “here you are. At our table.”

Macy slapped her hand down on the table. “Listen, you ass—”

“Where you visiting from?” Janna asked.

“Spokane.”

“Nice town. What do you do there?”

“He’s an accountant,” Macy said, giving the back of Jeremy’s hand a brotherly pat. “Don’t you just love a cerebral man?”

Gabe’s cell phone rang and he said a heartfelt, “Thank you, Jesus,” because for some damn reason he felt seconds away from snatching her hand off Mr. Cerebral’s arm and dragging her out to the porch for a little…discussion.

Why
he couldn’t exactly say. Still, he was grateful for the interruption. The screen showed it was Bundy, one of his volunteers.
Please,
he thought, hitting the button with his thumb.
Let this be a nice big fire.
“Talk to me.”

“I’m at the Feed and Seed, Chief,” Bundy said. “Got a possible lead on the arsons.”

“I’m on my way.” Shoving his phone back in its holster, he tore a hunk of meat from the chicken breast on his plate and stuffed it into a biscuit as he surged to his feet. “Sorry about disrupting your dinner, Lenore,” he said and loped from the room.

What the hell’s the matter with you?
Scowling, he climbed into his rig, shoved his key in the ignition and, firing it up, slammed it into gear.
Now you’re
wishing for fucking
wildfires
to cancel your own lack of control every time you get near the woman?

Jesus. For over a week he’d been obsessing over that damn kiss. It had been hot and fierce and sweet—and he couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. He prided himself on being an in-charge kinda guy. But she was making him just flat-out crazy. Not in charge at all.

He pulled into the feed store a minute later, happy to shelve the subject. Happier yet to whip his cloak of professionalism around him. The Closed sign was up in the entrance’s sidelight, but the door was unlocked and he found Bundy and Joe McFadden, the proprietor, in the back. “What’ve we got?”

Bundy gestured for McFadden to talk.

“This may be nothing, Chief,” McFadden said, “But I was hauling some pallets out back when I saw Colin Atkins and the Kaufman boy not far from my Dumpster. Colin had a box of matches he was tossing up and catching. Not that I saw him actually use them. Neither did the boys run away or anything when they saw me. They strolled off easy as you please, so it may be that they were just looking for a place to sneak a smoke. Only—”

“There’re better places to do that,” Gabe said. “Places where they’d be less likely to be seen.”

“That was my thought. Plus, something about it just made me think of all the odd fires we’ve been having this summer.”

“Daylight and business hours, however, doesn’t strike me as the best time to chance starting a fire.”

“True. Although I did stay late to clean up the pallets the feed shipment came in on instead of going home after I closed the store. But that just strengthens the argument for them thinking it’d be safe to smoke a cigarette or maybe do a little weed back there.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m probably being paranoid.”

“Maybe so, maybe no.” Gabe gave the store owner a level look. “I tell you what, though, Mr. McFadden, I’d rather be called in to discuss your concerns beforehand than try to save your store after it’s already been set on fire.” He turned to Bundy. “I’m not familiar with either kid. What are the odds of their parents letting us question them?”

“Without actually catching them in the act? Not great. There’s maybe a chance with Colin—”

McFadden made a skeptical noise and Bundy nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, probably not. And Jake’s old man is Gus Kaufman. No way in hell he’d allow it.”

“Damn.” He eyed the two men. “Either of you know whether the boys have access to a car?”

“I don’t think so,” McFadden said. “Or if they do, it’s not very often. I don’t recall seeing either of them driving around town.”

“So if they’re out and about at night, it’d likely be around the neighborhoods or the retail area.”

The merchant nodded. “That would be my guess.”

Gabe turned to his fireman. “Any chance you’d be willing to do a little surveillance with me this evening?” he asked. “I have to tell you up front that the mayor probably won’t authorize payment.”

“Hell, I’m in.” The beefy fireman shrugged. “It’s not like I got myself a hot date tonight. And unlike you, I don’t share the same roof with the world’s hottest video queen—so there’s no huge incentive to rush home.”

Gabe flashed on an image of bra-clad Macy fawning all over the nerd, and his teeth clenched. But he managed a wry smile for his crewman. “Maybe I can score you an autograph. You can’t spend it, but I suppose it’s better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.” Turning to McFadden, he thrust out his hand. “Thank you for calling us. We’ll do our best to follow up on your information.”

Outside, he turned to his man. “As well-thought-out schemes go, this one is pretty half-assed.” Opening the door of his rig, he looked at Bundy over its top. “But hop in, anyhow. I get the impression you and McFadden consider these kids players, punks, or at least largely unsupervised kids?”

“Yeah.” They climbed into the SUV and Bundy turned to look at him as they buckled up. “Both families have a history of letting their kids run wild. The Kaufman and Atkins kids don’t have
Brady Bunch
home lives and tend not to spend a lot of time there.
They’re known to get into trouble, but mostly it’s been petty stuff.”

“Let’s track down Johnny Angelini. If anyone has experience with the town’s troublemakers, it’ll be him. Maybe he can shed some light on where we’re likely to find these two.”

When they found Johnny twenty minutes later, he gave them places to look where the boys usually hung out. Gabe and Bundy spent the next couple hours checking out the kids’ haunts but failed to run across them.

Finally, Gabe blew out a breath, pulled a U-ie and headed back to the Feed and Seed where Bundy’d left his vehicle. “It’s going to be full dark in about five and we’re going in circles. Let’s call it a night.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bundy agreed. “Who knew you could get so played out just driving around?”

They were approaching Cedar Street where the Feed and Seed was when his passenger suddenly said, “Holy shit. That’s them.”

Gabe’s head whipped around. “Where?”

“They just turned down Hemlock.”

Cutting the lights, Gabe let the SUV drift over to the curb, where he shut down the engine. “I’d like to see what they’re up to. Let’s try to follow them without them making us.”

It was easier than he’d imagined, since the boys failed to even glance behind them. They bumped and shoved each other as they ambled down the street, laughing and exchanging rowdy ripostes.

Then, at the mouth of the alley separating A-1 Garage from Morgan’s Rent-A-Car, they paused and did shoot furtive looks over their shoulders. Gabe and Bundy melted back into the shadow of the retreads stack in the side yard of Kelly’s Tires. When Gabe eased his head back out to chance a look down the street, the boys were gone.

“Must’ve gone down the alley,” he breathed, and he and Bundy cautiously emerged from their hiding place. Without discussion they sought whatever concealment they could find as they approached the mouth of the alley. Standing to one side, he craned his head around the corner of the building and was in time to see the boys toss burning twists of paper into a Dumpster. It ignited with a whoosh.

“Shit. Call in the truck.” He started down the alley, but concealment here was zero. The boys, who’d been staring at the flames, spotted him and raced for the other end of the alley. He sprinted after them.

Bundy pulled abreast seconds later. “Truck’s on its way. I’ll take the one on the right.”

The boys looked over their shoulders but must have thought the men on their tails posed no threat, because they laughed and put on a burst of speed. It wasn’t for nothing, however, that Gabe had spent umpteen years humping hoses weighing over a hundred pounds empty—and considerably more when water pumped through them—up smoke-filled flights of stairs. It had conditioned Bundy as well, clearly, since the younger man pulled ahead of him.

The kids shot out of the alley and hooked right. Gabe exited in time to see them scaling a chain-link fence into the lumberyard. Bundy was scrambling over it in their wake and Gabe cleared it twenty seconds behind his crewman. They began closing in on the teens.

Casting ever-more frantic glances over their shoulders, the boys weren’t laughing now as they dodged between fragrant stacks of two-by-fours.

One foot skidding on something, Bundy went down, catching himself on his hand. Gabe slowed marginally as he came abreast. “You good?”

“Yeah, go, go!” The fireman was already pushing himself upright.

Gabe caught up with one of the teens at the far fence. The boy was near the top, about to swing a leg over, when Gabe pushed off with the ball of his foot and took a flying leap, catching a toehold in one diamond-shaped link and grabbing hold of a couple of others with his fingers and thumb. The fence rattled as, reaching up with his free hand, he grabbed a fistful of the kid’s waistband and jerked. The teen started to fall sideways and had to scramble to find purchase for the foot still in the air.

Without relinquishing his grip, Gabe dropped back to the ground, popping the boy’s grip from the links and hauling him down with him. Through the fence he could see the other punk racing down Cedar toward McFadden’s store.

He transferred his grip from the youth’s Levis to
a fistful of T-shirt as Bundy ran by and hauled himself up and over the fence. His crewman dropped to the other side and raced off after the fleeing adolescent.

“Hey, perv, lemme go!” The sandy-blond boy in his grasp twisted and turned like a worm trying to avoid being threaded on a hook. “You gotta go into Wenatchee you want some that action,” he sneered. “I don’t swing that way.”

“Kid, I doubt you have the balls to swing either way.”

The teen put some extra muscle into trying to escape and Gabe gave him a shake. “Knock it off. I don’t want to hurt you—but I will if I have to. So which one are you, anyway, Atkins or Kaufman?”

The boy went still, as if it had never occurred to him that Gabe might have tumbled to his identity. He snapped his mouth shut.