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After having both forms of medication, she took another hot shower to loosen up, got dressed, and went looking for him. He was in the kitchen, coffee and breakfast ready.
“You know, you’d make a hell of a house husband.”
A flash of teeth, and he drew her to him for a warm kiss. Their hands wandered over one another, reassurance after yesterday’s events, plus seeking the pleasure of touching and being touched.
Eventually, he directed her to a stool at his kitchen island, pouring her a cup of coffee and filling a plate for her. “You should take it easy today,” he said. “I’ll go in, handle the loose ends on Colin, and finish up some other work.”
A subtle reminder they would leave for Durham tomorrow, for her M&M. It was absurd that the resulting wave of anxiety was as overpowering as always—maybe even more so.
You might have died yesterday. Enduring an M&M conference is nowhere close to that.
Except that wasn’t what made her dread the M&M. It was reliving the events of that night, knowing they could never be changed. She definitely didn’t want to sit around Brick’s place thinking about it.
“Can I go with you?” She put both hands around her mug. “I can study, like I did yesterday.”
“Before a homicidal maniac tried to kill us.”
“I got a lot done before that happened.”
He came around the island, gripped the stool seat and turned her toward him. He set her coffee cup aside, and nudged her knees apart, putting himself between them. When he framed her face in his hands, he gave her a long, searching look. Her fingers came up to overlap his.
“Why weren’t your knees spread the moment I came around this counter?”
He stole her breath when he said things like that. “I hadn’t had coffee yet. My reaction time was slow.”
“I’ll let it go this time.”
“Or…you could add it to your list.”
His gaze flickered. “Consider it added. Do you really want to go into the office with me?”
“I really do. I like watching you do what you do.”
“And it’s better than sitting here alone, thinking about tomorrow.”
Maybe it was a crutch, using him to keep her from drowning in that well, but it was the truth. She nodded. “Please. Let me go with you.”
“All right.”
He gave her a short tour when they arrived, pointing out where the restrooms and break room were, and introducing her to several of his co-workers. The men were friendly and warm. The women as well, though their speculative looks puzzled her. At least until she reached his office.
The photos on the credenza behind his desk showed his parents and siblings. That same Wilder family picture was there, too, though this one was cropped to show only her, with Brick a few feet away looking toward her.
Gazing at it, she sat down in the guest chair as he took the oversized chair behind the desk—well, oversized for everyone but him. “You know I’m underage in that picture.”
“I don’t think there’s anything inappropriate implied.”
“Except you told me where your mind was starting to go. Predator.”
He rolled his eyes, but gave her a pointed look. “You think I won’t bend you over my desk and spank you right here?”
For once, it was a bluff she felt safe challenging. She stuck her tongue out at him. He grinned, but the gleam in his eyes told her there were other ways he could follow up on that threat when they weren’t at his place of work.
His office was well organized, same as his desk at home, but the stack of files was even larger. Plaques on his wall showed his fire sciences degree, additional certifications and a couple awards. Since Brick wasn’t prone to vanity, she suspected it was intended to establish his credentials for any outside visitors, department officials or witnesses he met here.
The first day she’d asked him to take her by his office, he’d told her no, because he’d get sucked in and never be able to leave. Confirming it, within five minutes of him opening his computer and starting to finalize the report on the Whitfield fire, another detective arrived to ask him questions about another case. Brick pulled the file and the investigator braced himself on one fist over it as Brick identified the elements that confirmed the source of the residential fire was cooking oil in a pot, left on a lit stove.
He pulled up the pictures on his computer, showing the detective the destroyed kitchen. Les saw only debris and charred appliances, until Brick pointed out a cone-shaped burn pattern and noted how the stove and wall adjacent had suffered the most damage, indicating the fire’s origin point.
