Trial by Fire (17 page)

Her shapely figure suited her medium height, even with a few extra pounds clinging to her hips. But he eyed the skintight low-rise jeans in silent disgust. A tart pushing the backside of thirty had no business dressing like a teenager when she no longer had the body to carry off the look. It never fucking ceased to amaze him that a broad would believe the little fat roll hanging over the waistband was something to admire.

“Waiting for someone?” she asked, the question a mere formality.

She studied him from the top of his head to his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Frank knew she liked what she saw. An older man, still taut in all the right places, silver threaded through his short black hair. Good-looking, with strong, arresting features.

Or so Sherri Pearce told him, before he gagged her, doused her with gasoline, and lit her up like a blowtorch.

His new target’s mouth curved into a knowing smile even before his answer.

“Not anymore, sugar.”

No, you stupid bitch. Not anymore.

10

Howard rolled his shoulders and neck, trying to work out the kinks as he and Julian loaded a seventy-six-year-old man with a possibly fractured hip into the ambulance. As MVA’s went, the accident could’ve been worse. A whole lot worse.

Tell that to the hysterical teenaged girl standing by the curb, wailing, “My parents are gonna kill me!” while staring in disbelief at the mangled front end of her Explorer. A patient traffic officer spoke to her in soothing tones, attempting to calm her enough to get the information he needed for his report.

No, Howard thought. Her parents were going to take her in their arms and thank God that the elderly man who’d run the red light hadn’t killed their little girl. Or at least they should.

With a wrecker on the way and he and Jules ready to transport their patient to the hospital, the team’s job at the scene was almost done. The officer would see to the shaken girl until her parents arrived to fetch her and the SUV, which didn’t look pretty, but could be driven.

During the ride to the hospital, he noticed how Julian spoke calmly to the old gentleman. Concerned, polite, and respectful. Professional yet caring. No trace of the bad-boy jerk. Jeez, the guy was a puzzle.

At the hospital, they left the man in good hands. With a quick wave good-bye at the ER doc, Salvatore strode out to where Howard waited beside the ambulance.

“Why can’t you be that nice to everyone?” Howard grumbled as they climbed into the vehicle.

Salvatore buckled his seat belt, expression guarded as he glanced at his lieutenant. “You got a problem with me, Six-Pack?”

“Depends. What hour of the day is it?”

The other man’s brows snapped together in a scowl. “
Cristo
, what crawled up your butt and died? You still sore about my hassle with Knight? Shit, all I did was stick one of Eve’s maxi pads on the quint’s steering wheel, and he went fucking nuclear.”

“You drew a smiley face on the extra-absorbent dry weave,” Howard deadpanned. “With Zack’s
name
on it. And did you forget the tampons you tied together and hung from the rearview mirror like fuzzy dice?”

Immediately, he felt bad about picking on Jules. Since the altercation with Zack over the stupid engine prank, the guy had been on his best behavior around the team. “Best behavior” being relative for Salvatore. And although Knight had been good and pissed, the harmless joke
was
pretty inspired.

“He’s over it.” Julian shrugged. “So, what’s eating you?”

“You got about an hour?”

At his resigned tone, Julian’s dark gaze switched to wary concern. “I got as long as you need.”

“Nah, forget it.” Why the hell had he opened the door? Jules was about the last person he wanted to spill his guts to. He pulled into the flow of afternoon traffic, heading toward the station, hoping his companion would drop the subject.

“Seriously, man. I may be a wiseass, but I can keep a secret. Ask
mi hermano.
”

“Your brother hangs out with drug dealers.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “Tonio’s a narc. I’m the one who got the warm, fuzzy personality.”

“God help us all.”

“But—”

“Forget it.”

Salvatore hesitated, then lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. Pushed a strand of straight, jet-black hair out of his eyes. “Whatever.”

Just before Julian averted his face to stare out the window, Howard caught a flicker of emotion in his dark eyes, quickly covered by a mask of indifference. Hurt? Disappointment?

Aw, hell.

There were a load of things going on that he
could
discuss with Salvatore, some of which didn’t bear repeating. He’d already told Sean about the photo of the murdered woman, and the fewer people who knew about it, the better. And the nightmares? Forget it. Nobody had a clue about those, not even Sean.

But there was one area Jules excelled at, hands down.

“How do you do it?” Howard mused aloud.

Julian glanced at him, curious. “Do what?”

“Keep all your women satisfied.”

A slow grin spread across the man’s face. “If you need pointers in bed,
amigo,
that’s more help than even I’m willing to give.”

“Not like that, idiot,” said Howard, waving a hand. “I mean, you see several ladies at any one time. How do you manage to keep things casual, but send them off happy, too?”

“Ah.” Julian nodded sagely. “The best of sex and companionship, without the cement shoes of matrimony. Friends with benefits.”

“Exactly!” What red-blooded guy wouldn’t love that arrangement?

“It’s not as simple as it sounds. You know about me and Carmelita, right?”

Howard stopped at a traffic light and took the opportunity to study Julian’s face. He’d never seen the guy so serious. “Not really. I’ve heard you mention her, that’s all.”

Julian fell silent a moment, as though considering the best way to explain. “Carmelita and I are . . . close. Lovers. My family and hers are lifelong friends. Everyone thought we’d marry someday, but we like our gig the way it is. We
need
our freedom, so we both see other people.”

The light turned green, and Howard stepped on the gas, amazed by what he was hearing. And yeah, intrigued. “And this works for her?”

“Yes. But our situation is unique, Six-Pack. We’ve known each other our whole lives. We’re friends, and we love one another in our own way. We talk about everything, except the forbidden territory of other lovers.”

He barked a short laugh. “I’ll bet. Christ, you’re something else.”

Grinning, Julian waggled his brows. “I’ve heard that before, and in prettier company.”

Howard shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. Jules really wasn’t so bad. Sometimes. Full of crap, but not so bad.

He tried to imagine Kat going for an arrangement like Julian had with Carmelita, and the picture wouldn’t gel. Not only that, but quite suddenly, just thinking of Kat with another man in her bed, letting him pleasure her as he’d done yesterday afternoon and half the night . . .

The smile died on his face. The thought made him physically ill. Made him sick to his stomach, made him want to hit something.

By God, Salvatore’s open relationship policy was definitely
out
.

“What’s with the quiz about my love life, anyway?”

The question jerked him out of black thoughts of slowly torturing a man caught attempting to poach on sacred territory. “No reason in particular.”

“You seeing somebody?”

“Sort of. Maybe.” At Julian’s arch look, he gave. “Okay, yeah. I’m hoping to see her a lot.”

“Cool. Who is she?”

Howard sighed. What reason did he have to keep her a secret? Everyone would meet her and Grace at Bentley’s party on Saturday. “Kat McKenna, the blonde from the fire.”

The blonde he had yet to level with about the photo, in spite of his best intentions. God.

“I knew it!” Julian chortled, slapping his leg. “Hot damn, it’s about time! Howie scores!”

“Kat’s not a
score
,” he replied evenly, choosing to ignore the annoying nickname. A deaf man could’ve read the dire warning in his tone.

Julian held up a hand. “Whoa, chill. I didn’t mean any disrespect to your lady. It’s just that, holy shit, Knight gets more action than you, and he’s a freaking virgin.”

“He is
not
,” Howard scoffed, glad for the diversion.

“Man, I’m serious. You didn’t know?”

“Zack’s what, twenty-six? No way.”

“Yep. I overheard him talking to Eve on shift not long ago. Not that I was listening on purpose—”

“Why would he tell Eve something so personal? Maybe you took the conversation out of context.”

“Jesus, where have you
been
? Under a rock?” Julian tilted his dark head back against the seat and closed his eyes. “Those two are tight, like best buds. And I know what I heard.”

Whether Zack was a virgin or not, it wasn’t any of their business. Though that would sure go a long way toward explaining the man’s hostile reaction to Julian’s prank. “I don’t feel right talking about Zack like this.”

“Hey, I thought you knew or I wouldn’t have opened my big mouth. Shouldn’t have, anyway, so consider the subject dropped.” After a brief pause, he said, “So, do I get an introduction to your hot
chica
on Saturday?”

“A brief one,” he enunciated deliberately. “Real brief.”

Julian’s lips curved up. “Message received.”

“Good, ’cause here’s another one. Kat is bringing her sister, Grace.”

“Yeah?” Julian lifted his head at that bit of news, blinking at Howard in undisguised interest. He smiled. “She as pretty as your lady?”

Howard’s hands gripped the steering wheel, tight. God, what a disaster it would’ve been to unleash a player like Jules on Kat’s family. He was damned glad he’d brought this up in time to head off catastrophe.

“Got no clue, but it doesn’t matter to
you,
” he said firmly, lest the guy have any doubt where they stood. “Grace is a lawyer. A classy woman from a nice, normal family. Kat adores her, and anything that upsets my lady would be very unpleasant and unfortunate for the person doing the upsetting. We clear?”

Julian’s smile froze on his face. There it was again, the flash of deep hurt, then his expression turned hard. Brittle. His eyes glittered like onyx, cold and unfathomable.

“More than clear, Lieutenant.”

Well, son of a bitch. Salvatore was insulted, which hadn’t been his intent. All the same, he wasn’t about to stand aside and let the man work his mojo on Kat’s sister. Not if he could prevent it. That whole scene hit way too close to home, in more ways than one.

“Hey, Jules, man, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to see Kat’s sister get hurt. I invited her, so I’d feel responsible.”

Julian turned his face away, gazing out the window. “Yeah, sure.”

They rode the rest of the way to the station in tense silence. Howard let his thoughts drift to Kat and wondered how her day at work had gone. He checked his watch. Almost three thirty. He’d give her a while to get home, then call her.

He wanted to hear her voice, her laughter. He missed her already, wished she’d stayed longer last night. The second time he’d fucked her, after dinner, had been even hotter and faster than the first.

Next time, he’d slow things down, give her a reason to stay until dawn. Make love to her slow and easy.

It’s not fucking, not with Kat,
he realized.
Hard and fast or slow and deep, with her, it’s making love.

His balls tightened, and his cock began to ache. He needed her, and shift change was too damned far off. He hadn’t planned on seeing her again so soon, perhaps not until the party on Saturday, and yet . . .

He was already getting in too deep with the curvy, green-eyed blonde who knocked his socks off. Twisted his heart in knots.

This thing between them was progressing at warp speed. He ought to back off a little. Tell her about the photo of the murdered woman. Be honest, share all the ugly truths about himself and what he’d never be able to give her.

But he couldn’t.

Soon,
he told himself. When the moment was right, he’d tell her everything. When he did, she’d run far away from him.

And he’d be alone.

Again.

Kat barely got through the door, slung her heavy bookbag onto the sofa, and kicked her shoes off her throbbing feet when the phone rang. Checking the caller ID, she grinned and snatched the receiver from its cradle.

“Hello!”

“Miss me?” Howard’s voice rumbled in her ear, deep and seductive.

She flushed, warming all over. “Come over and find out.”

“Damn, you know how to bring a guy to his knees,” he complained, following the gripe with a low, husky laugh.

“You looked pretty fine in that position, as I recall,” she crooned, carrying the phone into her bedroom. He groaned, and she giggled. Cradling the handset under her ear, she unzipped her pants and slid them down. “How’s your shift been so far?”

“Busy. We’ve had two medical emergencies in the home, a kid who touched a downed power line while walking to school, and an MVA.”