When Sparks Fly (55 page)

Brock asked, “Do you think he may have started it with his cigarettes and doesn’t want to take the blame?”

“Thought about that, but he showed me where he stands, and there are a shit-ton of butts on the ground. He’s not neat, but it does corroborate the story of where he may have been standing. And if that’s his corner, then he’d have a good view.”

“A little, blue car. He can’t give us more than that?” Mac asked.

“Said it was ‘real blue’ like those little Dodge Neons.”

Jake added, “That’s more of a girl’s car. Arsonists are usually men. Think we’re looking in the wrong direction?”

“Maybe our arsonist is using his girlfriend’s car to keep from driving anything that could be identified with him.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Mac cursed. Looking at Rob, he said, “And don’t you be telling your mother that I’ve been taking the Lord’s name in vain again. She’ll stop bringing pastries or coffee to the station for my penance.”

The men laughed at Mac’s attempt to lighten the mood, but each knew that the arsonist, whoever they were, was a real threat and one who might kill before it would be over.

*

Laurie watched as Jean checked her phone again and sighed heavily when no message was coming.

“It doesn’t get any easier, you know?” Laurie said.

Jean looked up sharply, realizing her actions had been noted. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

“I used to think that it would, but then I talked to Bernie,” Laurie continued, twisting her engagement ring. “With both Mac and Rob at the station, she has to worry about her husband and her son.”

Carol added, “I never thought about what Tom did when we first got together. It just seemed like all the bad stuff happened on TV. Then…”

Laurie reached over and clasped Carol’s hand giving it a squeeze. Carol had dealt with a stalker earlier in the year and Tom had to rescue her.

“I confess that I hadn’t given Jake’s profession a second thought,” Emma said. “Now I’m worried.” Emma and Jake had begun dating right after the barbeque.

“Ladies, listen to us. We’re so morose. We’ve chosen detectives and firemen to be with, but we can’t let worry dictate our lives. My Rick had a safe job, or so I thought, and then one day he was killed while working. We need to stay strong for our men.”

Jumping up, Laurie agreed. “Jean’s right and I propose we have some wine, turn up the music and dance.”

Catching Laurie’s enthusiasm, the others quickly joined in, and that was how the men found them an hour later.

The four men walked up the front path to Rob’s house when they heard the sound of music and laughter. Looking at each other, they made their way to the porch window to peer in.

The four women were dancing around the living room barefoot, giggling as they tripped over each other. Several wine bottles sat on the coffee table and it looked as though the women had consumed most of the contents.

Brock looked at Jean, admiring her figure and youthfulness, and his daughter’s enthusiasm for fun. Rob opened his front door and the women all turned around to greet the men, each racing over each other.

Jake swooped Emma up on his shoulders, gave her ass and pat and said, “Say goodbye, Emma girl.” Giggling, she waved at the others as he carried her out.

Tom, towering over Carol, picked her up gently, kissing her nose. “You okay, angel?” She nodded and smiled as they headed out of the door also.

Brock walked over to Jean pulling her in close. “You looked like you were having fun, sweetheart.”

“We’d been sitting around worrying about you all so much, we just decided to drink and dance our worries away.”

Chucking, he asked, “Did it work?”

“Well,” she looked at Laurie who was standing in Rob’s embrace. “It was fun, but I can’t say it took away my worry.”

“We’re fine. The fire was a larger one, but we’re hoping that maybe for the first time we have a witness to who may have started it.”

Giving Laurie a hug, Jean turned to Rob, whispering, “Thank you for looking out for him.”

She turned seeing Laurie hug Brock as well, saying, “Goodnight, Dad.”

Taking Brock back into her arms, they walked down the path and into his truck. Giving his hand a squeeze, she looked over in concern. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something when we get home.”

Home.
Brock loved that word coming from her mouth. Having moved from base to base, home had been wherever the Army had placed him. Even his apartment for the last two years had not seemed much like home. But here with her…now he understood the word.

“No, baby. I’m not hungry for anything but you.”

“Me?” she smiled.

“Oh yeah, sweetheart. Seeing you shake that gorgeous ass in there has my dick twitching, and you telling me that we were going home has made my heart want to hold you all night.”

Arriving at Jean’s house, they entered quickly, undressing as they moved straight to the bedroom.

“You need anything, sweetie,” she asked, concern on her face.

“I had a quick shower at the firehouse, but I wouldn’t mind another one here, just to make sure I’ve got all the smoke and soot off of me.”

Jean pulled her shirt over her head and with a wink, asked, “You want some company in there?”

“Hell yeah, woman,” he answered.

Jean stepped into the shower once the water was warm, but looked askance at the shower wall. She had never had shower sex before and was not sure of the mechanics.

He noticed her reticence and smiled at the look of uncertainty etched on her face. “You afraid, babe?”

“Um, I guess I’m not sure how this works,” she said, a blush appearing on her breasts and rising to her hairline.

Brock let the water hit his back to keep it from her face as he watched the water droplets slide down her luscious body. “Let me worry about that and you just give it all over to me.” He watched as a smile lit her face and he leaned in to kiss her. Hard. Wet. Full of passion.

She gave into the kiss, his tongue moving deeply in her mouth creating sensations that shot to her core. With her arms around his neck, she began to hold on as the power of his kiss lifted her higher.

She felt her back against the wall, realizing that his kiss had stolen all rational thought. Her legs circled his waist and his erection tip was right at her entrance.

He used one hand to palm her breasts and pluck her nipple, all the while his tongue continuing its torturous explorations. Slowly his hand moved to her nether lips as he circled her clit before plunging two fingers inside. Riding his fingers, she moved her hips up and down, desperate for the sensations that were deep inside. Without warning, her orgasm rocked her and she leaned her head against the shower wall, allowing his tongue to wander along her neck, nipping at the sensitive area where her pulse beat.

With just a slight jostle, he set her on his aching cock and seated her fully. He watched as her eyes flew open, the feeling of fullness and then friction almost taking her over the edge again. Their eyes stayed on one another as he lifted her up and down his dick, her warm pussy clutching him tightly.

It did not take long for her inner muscles to begin pulsating as they milked him and throwing his head back, he roared through his orgasm at the same time. Holding her carefully as he slowly pulled out, he set her down not letting go until her legs were steady underneath her.

Peering down at her, he saw her blush once again. “You’re not embarrassed are you, sweetheart?”

Laughing, she said, “No. It was…amazing. I’m just realizing how many firsts I’m having with you.”

Not able to help his caveman pride, he pulled her in for a spine-tingling kiss. “As long as I’m your
lasts
, I’ll be happy.”

Later, tucked into bed, watching her sleep he knew that he could not believe this beautiful, amazing woman was lying in his arms.
Forever. That’s what I want. Forever. And baby, I’ll be your last.

‡
Chapter Nine

The early July sun was already beaming down on the ground as Jean pulled the lawn mower from her garage. Splurging on the electric start mower was making the job easier, knowing she would never be able to get the pull cord cranking. Putting her earphones in, she began the job.

Mowing in the front first then around the back, she was almost finished when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. A scream ripped from her as her legs and arms flailed.

“Jean,” a familiar voice shouted through her fear.

She stopped struggling immediately, twisting to see Brock’s angry face glaring at her while his strong arms held her tightly.

“Brock? What are you doing scaring me like that?”

“I’d like to know why the hell you’re out here doing this when I said I’d be by later this afternoon to do it for you.”

Jean pulled out of his arms, hands on her hips and glared. “It’s supposed to be in the upper 90’s by this afternoon, so I figured I’d go ahead and get it done this morning.”

Glaring back, Brock continued, “I was coming to do it now when I didn’t get called in today.”

“Well, I didn’t know that, did I?”

“You would have if you’d answered your phone.”

“This argument is ridiculous, Brock. I’ve been mowing my own yard for the past fifteen years. I think I’m perfectly capable.”

“Fifteen years, huh? So did Rick let you mow it when he was here?”

At that, Jean’s blood began to boil. “No. He never lived in this house. He died before we could move in.” Turning, she stomped toward the back door leaving the mower in the middle of the yard.

Brock heard the door slam as he stood there, the hot sun beating down and hung his head.
Well, fuck. I coulda handled that better.
Looking toward the house, he wondered when he should go apologize. Letting his gaze fall back on the mower, he walked over and started it again, deciding to give her a little space first.

Quickly finishing the back yard, he pushed the mower into the garage and headed back to the house. His hand hesitated on the doorknob, wondering if she locked him out. He technically still had the efficiency until the end of the summer but rarely stayed there. He had all but moved into her place, but now wondered if he would be welcome.

Steeling himself, he heaved a sigh of relief when the knob turned easily. Stepping in the cool of the kitchen, he saw her standing at the sink with her back toward him.

Jean turned, handing him a glass of iced tea. Not ready to look at him, she kept her face down but knew that would never work. He walked over, taking the glass from her hand and set it down on the counter as he stepped closer into her space. With his hands on either side of her, she was effectively blocked in.

“Sweetheart?” he said softly.

She looked up, blinking back tears. He saw the unshed tears and as she blinked one more time a single tear escaped down her cheek. Gently, he wiped it away with the rough pad of his thumb, allowing his fingers to cup her smooth face.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he confessed. “I shoulda never brought Rick up like that. It was cruel and wrong and I promise…promise I’ll never do that again.”

She heard the sincerity in his gravelly voice and leaned her head into his hand, loving the feel of it on her skin. “I’m sorry too, Brock. I just…I don’t know…” giving a little shrug, her words hung unsaid.