Playing with Fire (6 page)

“And what would that be?” he snapped.

“I don’t know. Perhaps time will tell. Are
the nightmares always exactly the same?”

“No. We’re always in the same situation. He
dies in different ways, but he always ends up dead. I can still
hear the echo of his ringing PASS.”

“PASS?”

“Another acronym. Personal Alert Safety
System. It’s an alarm that tells us when a firefighter’s down.”

“Was that first time you’d ever experienced
trouble during a fire?”

“Trouble? No. Death? Yes.”

“Has your job been affected?”

“I haven’t been back in since. I fight fire
on paper now.”

“By doing inspections.”

“That, and investigating after the fire. I’m
a licensed fire investigator.”

“Any flashbacks?”

“Not flashbacks. Memories.”

“Memories of Zach?”

“Not really. I remember details. Things that
happened, things we said.”

“Have you ever tried to force yourself to
remember good times between you and Zach?”

The warmth of her suggestion surrounded his
wounded heart and began to apply a healing salve. “How did you
manage to be both beautiful and intelligent?”

Her glossy lips sparkled as she grinned. “I’m
serious about manipulating the outcome of your nightmares.”

Too tired to argue, he agreed. “Whatever it
takes. I’m sick of living like this.”

“How do you occupy your time other than work
and cartoons?”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Not like
you think. I work out a lot.”

Her cheeks pinkened and he wondered if her
breasts would carry the same pretty blush if he touched them. His
body ached again and this time it had nothing to do with Zach or
the fire and everything to do with the woman sitting in his living
room.

As if uncomfortable by his silence, she
cleared her throat. “How has Zach’s death affected your team?”

His shoulders slumped. “Dylan and Maddie have
their own problems. Jake refuses to bond with anyone, even women.
And the others seem to seek comfort in groupies.”

“You feel responsible.”

“I should have pulled him out.”

“Let’s try an outlet to occupy your emotions.
Quite a few of my patients paint and find it very therapeutic.”

He lifted an eyebrow and bit his tongue to
keep from calling her crazy.

“I’ll e-mail you a list of supplies.”

“How do you know I’ll do this?”

She shrugged and stood. “Just a hunch.” She
reached into her bag and then handed him an iPod and earphones.
“Lie down and get comfy.”

Suspicion nudged him. Or was that hope?
“Why?”

“Doctor’s orders. Come on. Slip off your
shirt ... I mean shoes,” she stammered.

He handed back the music player and bent to
unlace his boots, tempted to rip off his shirt. By the slip of her
own tongue and her rosy red cheeks, she wouldn’t complain.

He lifted his head while he toed off each
boot. “Just the shoes?”

“Yes.”

He followed instructions and then stretched
out on the sofa. “Now what?”

She pressed the power button on the iPod then
handed him the earphones. “Relaxation music. You need a nap.”

He poked the plugs in his ears and something
next to noise filled his ears. “Elevator music? Or trickling
streams?”

“Neither. Concentrate on the music.”

A momentary flash of panic stopped his
complaint and drowned out the music. “Are you leaving?”

“I think we’re done for today.”

He wanted to groan out loud. He really didn’t
want her to leave. Not solely because he wanted her next to him,
under him - hell, on top of him - but because as long as he slept
alone, the nightmares could return. He was beginning to think
nothing distracted his pain and agony as well as Liberty.

“Don’t you want to stay and monitor my
brainwaves or something?”

She released a giggle. “That’s not
possible.”

“What if this doesn’t work?”

“Go to the gym. I’ll lock the door on my way
out.”

Shane sank into the cushions and closed his
eyes. As soon as the door snapped closed, he yanked the earphones
free. Music would not put him to sleep. As restless as he felt,
only a sweaty round of sex had half a chance. He yawned and rolled
to one side. Too bad he didn’t convince her to stay.

She gave him one of her sultry smiles and
knelt between his legs. Those full, plump lips drifted closer until
she wrapped them around his desperate, achy cock. Her tongue slid
over the heated muscle. Up one side, down the other, and finally
caressed the smooth surface of the bloated head.

“
Just like that, baby,” he
groaned.

When he thrust his hips to deepen her
assault, she widened her lips and sucked him inside like a
lollipop. His dick hit the back of her throat and she purred like a
sleeping kitten. The low, sensual sound tightened his balls and he
moved faster, desperate to finish. Right there. In the depths of
her throat.

She moved her right hand and suddenly her
fingers wrapped the thick root of his erection. Her lips squeezed.
Her hand pumped. His hips pistoned. Pressure built in his balls.
Close, so fucking close. His spine tingled
...

“Shane! Are you in there?”

Shane’s eyes flew open and he pushed himself
up on the couch, disoriented and confused. Where the hell did she
go? He glanced down at his lap and his massive hard-on. He shook
his head to clear his brain.
She
had been Liberty, hadn’t
she?

“Open the damn door!”

He rubbed his neck and glanced at the clock
on the wall, amazed he actually slept without a nightmare for over
four hours. “Hang on!”

He dragged himself across the room and swung
open the door. Dylan and Jake stood on the other side.

“You okay?” Jake barreled inside first and
headed to the kitchen.

“Yeah.” He raised both arms and stretched the
kinks out of his stiff muscles.

Dylan plopped down on the sofa and propped
his boots on the coffee table. “You are alone, right? Were you
asleep?”

“I was asleep alone.” Except for the woman
whose lips wrapped his dick. He pushed Dylan’s feet to the
floor.

“Sorry we woke you.” Jake returned from the
kitchen and popped the top on a can of soda. “How did you manage to
sleep, anyway?”

Dylan cleared his throat.

Shane tossed him a warning glare. “Luck, I
guess.”

Jake gave him a cocky smirk. “Good
dream?”

Shane released a heavy breath. “Why did you
wake me?”

Dylan ran his hand through his hair. “There
was another fire this morning. It looks suspicious.”

“Where?”

“Andy’s Dry Cleaning,” Jake answered.
“Appears to be arson. Completely destroyed. We need to take a look
around.”

“You’re coming too?” He pulled on his boots
and tied the laces.

“Might as well. It’ll save me a trip
later.”

A familiar wave of dread rolled over him.
Would he ever get past this? He allowed his thoughts to shift to
Liberty for a split second. She said she could help. And his nap
this afternoon proved her point.

Encouraged, he pushed his anxiety to the side
and stood. “We need to stop by the station and get my gear.”

“Done,” Dylan answered.

“Alright, let’s go.” Shane herded them out
and locked the door behind, still pissed off about not finishing
that dream.

Ten minutes later, Shane wiped his sweaty
palms on his jeans when they pulled up at the fire scene. The
yellow crime scene tape framed the blackened ruins of Andy’s,
labeling the area evil. The sinister flames spared nothing. Piles
of what had once been clothing lay scattered as ash from one
charred wall to another. The large cleaning vats had been reduced
to liquid metal, adhered to the cement foundation.
Damn
.

His palm moved in circles on his chest. He
forced his thoughts back to Liberty in an effort to choke his
anxiety. As he replayed their conversation, her passionate, gentle
voice calmed him and gave him confidence to catch this lunatic
before someone else ended up dead.

He eased into his jacket and crammed a helmet
on his head as he glanced at Dylan. “We clear?”

Dylan tossed him a shovel. “Nothing left to
burn. Watch out for hot spots.”

The three men sifted through smoldering piles
of debris in silence, searching for even the tiniest piece of
evidence. After several minutes of moving ashes, Shane tossed his
shovel to the side and squatted to brush his gloved hands over the
floor. On the second pass, his glove nudged a metal object.

“Arson,” he said into the stillness. “Another
damn acetone can.”

“Sonuvabitch.” Dylan wrapped it in an
evidence bag. “What’s this perp’s problem?”

“I’ll do some checking when I get back to the
station.” Jake sounded just as defeated. “Maybe someone’s purchased
a significant amount of acetone.”

Shane caught a glittering flash of light on
top of a pile of ash close by. He squatted and blew the dust to the
side. As he sent flakes into the air, a gold hoop earring sparkled
in the evening light. He flipped it over. Twenty four karat
gold.

“Bag this too, Dylan.”

Another rumble in Shane’s chest told him
panic would soon weaken him. Time to leave before Jake and Dylan
witnessed his insanity.

“There’s plenty of daylight left,” he said as
he stood. “How about we drop this stuff at the lab and go for beer
and pizza?”

“You’re on,” Jake and Dylan said in
unison.

Desperate to avoid another round of sickening
memories, he headed back to the truck and slammed the door.

***

“I’m glad you thought of this!” Liberty
licked gooey chocolate batter from her fingers and seriously
contemplated licking the mixing bowel clean next.

Maddie shot her a guilty look. “Actually, I
had an ulterior motive. Dylan went for beer and pizza with Shane
and Jake.”

Liberty glanced out the kitchen window into
the darkness. “I don’t care. I’d kill for your double-fudge
brownies.”

“I’ll make sure Dylan gets you home safe and
sound.” Maddie opened the oven and slid another baking sheet
inside. “I promised him I’d send some brownies to the station.
Besides, baking is very soothing for the soul.” She closed the oven
door and grinned. “Especially when it’s chocolate.”

Liberty handed her another mixing bowl. “They
don’t know how lucky they are to have you.”

Maddie shrugged. “I just love to cook and
they love to eat. It works out great for all of us.”

She sighed and sat on a bar stool. Apparently
Maddie found an outlet for her frustration over her failure to
conceive.

“Have you scheduled an appointment with a
fertility specialist yet?”

Maddie’s wooden spoon sprinted around the
bowl. “Not yet. Dylan still blames himself and to tell the truth,
I’m kinda scared to find out. It just doesn’t make sense that we
work separately but not together.”

“Modern medicine has come a long way,
Mad.”

“We’ve discussed adoption.”

The timer chimed and Liberty jumped to remove
the first batch of brownies from the oven. “Really?”

“We’ve just started discussing it. I’m not
sure we’re ready.”

“Take your time. There’s no hurry.” She
pushed two plates across the counter.

“There are babies who need loving homes.”
Maddie cut two squares of the warm brownies and slid them onto the
plates. “I just feel ... I don’t know ... inadequate somehow
because we can’t do it ourselves.”

“No need to worry.” Liberty bit into a
brownie. “Mmm, I think you should retire from nursing and open a
bakery. You’d make a fortune.”

“Yeah,” Maddie agreed around a giggle, “and
we’d weigh over two hundred pounds each.” She peeked through the
oven door at her next batch. “How’s Shane?”

“He’s only had one session, Maddie.”

“Was he difficult?”

“Surprisingly, no. He was actually quite
agreeable.”

“All of them took Zach’s death hard, but
Shane’s having the worst time.”

“They were close.”

Maddie nodded. “Shane holds himself
responsible.”

A sense of pain prodded her as she considered
Maddie’s statement. The torture Shane inflicted on himself made her
want to sob uncontrollably. That, and console him a number of
different ways.
Professional, Liberty
.

“I’ll do my best to fix him.”

Maddie gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“There’s no doubt in my mind. What do you think of him,
anyway?”

She rolled her eyes, not surprised the
conversation took this turn. She knew her best friend too well.
“Smooth, Mad.”

“Oh come on, Liberty. There’s no way you
haven’t felt something by now.”

Her heart fluttered.
Something
? She
felt something alright. She just refused to admit it to Maddie or
herself. Yet.

“My focus is on helping him sleep.”

Maddie stirred again. “Maybe it would be
helpful if you slept with him.”

She fumbled to catch her plate as it slid
from her fingers. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

Maddie kept a furious pace. “Just a
suggestion. I always sleep better with Dylan next to me.”

She set the plate solidly onto the counter.
“Totally different. I won’t sleep with Shane Hartwell.”

Maddie’s eyes twinkled. “Sure about
that?”

No
. “Positive.”

Maddie shrugged and gestured to the counter.
“Okay then, have another brownie.”

Two days later, Shane folded his arms across
his chest, sorely tempted to throw Liberty out. Despite her advice,
he and Fred spent the early morning hours together once again. She
just refused to give up.

“Are they getting any better?”

“No.”

“Any worse?”

“They can’t get any worse,” he responded
shortly.