Flash Point

by Brooke Blaine

He pulled her sleeve back down. “Ice it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After taking a final bite of her breakfast, she set the bowl in the dishwasher and leaned her hip against the sink.

  “All right, King Kirk of the Kittehs. You ready to go?”

  * * *

  KIRKPATRICK SLUMPED AGAINST the front door of the apartment after slamming it shut. “Thank God,” he said, moaning with his eyes closed.

  “Aww, it wasn’t so bad, was it?” Katherine asked, tossing her bag in the chair. “I’ve never heard anyone get so many catcalls in my life.”

  He reached into his briefs and pulled out a wad of papers. “What does it say about women now that they stick their numbers in a guy’s underwear?”

  “Oh, you’re not just any guy, King Kirk. You’re a superhero. Chicks dig superheroes.”

  The front door opened then, and Jason, sweaty and in gym clothes, stepped through, knocking Kirkpatrick out of the way. He looked the costumed man up and down and shook his head.

  “You have a fan club outside,” he told Kirkpatrick with a grin.

  “Tell them King Kirk saved the world and has gone back to his alien planet.” Kirkpatrick took off his bow headband and tossed it on the table.

  “You heard the man, Katherine,” Jason said. “Go tell them.”

  “Oh hell no. I’m not breaking any hearts on his behalf. Besides,” she said, nodding at the phone numbers Kirkpatrick tossed on the table, “he might want to keep those for later.”

  “Or never,” Kirkpatrick interjected. “That would be never.”

  Jason grabbed a water from the fridge and sucked it down in one long gulp.

  Hot damn, he made even that look sexy.

  “So something happened while you and your superhero were out saving the day,” he said after wiping his mouth. “There’s been an arrest.”

  “What?” Katherine and Kirkpatrick both said at the same time.

  “One of the members of the gang your dad is currently trying was found damaging your father’s private office at the courthouse,” he told them. “There’s more to it, and they haven’t gotten a confession yet, but the motive’s there, and he’s being held for questioning.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked, not wanting to get her hopes up that he meant what she thought he did, but unable to stop the smile from creeping across her face.

  Kirkpatrick said, “It means we’re one step closer, kiddo. Hell, five steps.”

  “Is that true?” she asked Jason.

  Wiping the sweat off his brow, he said, “Time will tell.”

  Her grin faltered a bit. “Um, that doesn’t sound very promising. This is exciting stuff, right?”

  “There’s a lot that needs to happen before we jump to conclusions, so I’m not trying to get your hopes up, but…yeah, an arrest is promising news.”

  Holy shit. She flopped on the barstool, stunned. What if this was finally over? What would life be like if she could breathe again? It was almost too much to think about.

  “So…how long, do you think, until we know for sure?” she asked.

  “Depends on how long it takes to get his confession,” Jason said.

  “That’s not helpful.”

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say other than to answer your questions honestly. An arrest in the case could be good news. Is anything definitive yet? No. Will we know the whys of everything soon or will we ever? I don’t know. Is that helpful enough for you?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Someone’s cranky. Did you run a six-minute mile instead of five or something?”

  Shaking his head, he tossed the empty bottle in the trash and walked out of the kitchen, pulling his drenched shirt over his head. She leaned back off her stool as she watched his bare, muscular body head down the hall. His back glistened with sweat, and it was all she could do not to chase him down so she could taste it with her tongue. I bet he tastes delicious, like my favorite—

  “Katherine.” Kirkpatrick’s voice startled her, and she fell off the stool, landing smack on her ass. When she looked up, his brow was raised.

  “What?” she asked.

  He looked toward the hall and then back to her.

  Rolling her eyes, she grumbled, “Well, tell him to keep his damn shirt on next time.”

  When Kirkpatrick shook his head and walked away, she called after him, “Or better yet, don’t.”

  JASON GROANED FOR what had to be the tenth time from where he sat in the armchair, and she reached behind her to grab a pillow from the couch to throw it at his head.

  “You’re ruining this for me, so would you please sod off?” she said, mimicking the British words used in the movie they were watching.

  “No one says this kind of shit in real life.”

  “Hence, this is a movie. It’s make-believe. Fake. Not real.”

  “What’s the point?”

  Now it was her turn to groan. “The point is, it’s for enjoyment purposes and to escape real life, which, for some, has been a bit of a fucking nightmare for a few years. Can you please shut that hole in your face and pretend to like it for my sake? You did tell me I could choose the movie.”

  “Which I’ve regretted for the past”—he checked his watch—“hour and forty-five minutes now.”

  Another pillow flew at his head.

  “All right, all right,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

  “Thank you.”

  She reached for the remote and rewound it back to where they were before he’d so rudely interrupted. He’d surprised her after his shower by ordering in Saucelito’s and telling her to “pick a flick.” She wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but she guessed it was his “I’m sorry I was a cranky ass earlier” way of apologizing. If that was the case, he was welcome to be pissy anytime. And not that she was trying to press her luck with him, but she needed some happy romance, not some ear-blasting, blow-’em-up guy movie, and she hoped Jason converted into a full-fledged Hugh Grant fan after this. The guy was hilarious—who wouldn’t like him?

  Well…she thought, looking over to where Jason sat across the room biting his thumb in what looked like an attempt to keep his mouth shut. Maybe Hugh’s charm doesn’t extend to straight guys.

  “Oh, come on,” he burst out when he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “No one would say that.”

  She glared at him. “Again, it’s a freakin’ movie, but I bet hundreds of people have said that line. Thousands, even.”

  “No. No one can say it with a straight face. Look,” he said, pointing to the screen. “She’s trying to hold back a smile, see it?”

  “Those are tears, jackass.”

  “Tears of inner uncontrollable laughter.”

  She hit the pause button on the remote. “Fine. You pick, then. Something super action-packed and with lots of macho bravado being thrown around, I’m sure.”

  “Turn it back on.”

  “I don’t think I will,” she said, tossing the remote aside.

  “Katherine. Turn the damn thing back on. It’s almost over. I hope.”

  “I’ll turn it back on if you get up and say the line.”

  “If I—” He looked at her as if she were crazy. “Fuck no.”

  Sitting back with her arms crossed, she said, “Fuck yes. Get up. Say the line. Prove to me it’s the lamest thing ever, and then I’ll turn it back on.”

  “You would drive a lesser man to drink, you know that?”

  She narrowed her eyes and rose to her feet, motioning for him to do the same. “Up. Get up.”

  When he didn’t budge other than shaking his head, she moved in front of him and stood between his legs. Grabbing his hands, she pulled him up off the seat.

  “All right, now stand right here and pretend I’m Hugh.”

  His lips twitched as he gave her a once-over. “Yeah, I can see it.”

  “Gee, thanks. Now…you’ve walked into my bookstore looking for me and I’ve turned you down and broken your heart, but before you go,
you just want to tell me…”

  He looked at her blankly. “Tell you…?”

  She rolled her eyes. “That was the setup. Say the line.”

  Blowing out a breath, he snickered to himself before throwing out, “I’m just a girl, standing in front of Hugh, asking him to be with her.”

  “Noooo,” she said with a pout. “Those aren’t the words, and you can’t laugh. Serious face only. And you’re not a fucking girl, so please just do it right so we can finish the movie.”

  “I think you would do a far better job at this than I ever could.”

  “I don’t have any doubts about that.”

  “Then do it,” he dared her. “Show me how it’s done.”

  “You’re such a pain in my ass. Fine.” She cleared her throat and looked him in the eye for a long moment. Suddenly, she felt nervous and the line felt all wrong. She didn’t want him to think of her as a girl.

  “Remember, I’m also just a woman,” she said, taking a small step toward him. “Standing in front of a man.” Another step brought her within inches of him. Heat radiated off him in waves, and she reached between them and fingered his shirt before whispering, “Asking him to love her.”

  His smile faded as his eyes dropped to her lips. She licked them and waited, not daring to breathe.

  Do it. Please, God, do it.

  But he didn’t make a move. He didn’t move away either, so she summoned up all her courage and pressed her lips against his before he could try to stop her. His lips were warm and softer than they looked, probably the only part of his entire body that could be called that, but they remained closed to her.

  She could feel his breath coming faster as he seemed to war with himself over what to do. It seemed like a lifetime that she lingered, willing him to respond to her, but she wasn’t about to move away and break their connection. She swiped a path along his lips with her tongue, and he inhaled, his mouth parting slightly. Not wasting any time, she leaned in for a deeper kiss, and this time, he kissed her back. The fingers she had resting on his shirt gripped it tighter, pulling him closer, as he grabbed the back of her neck and moved his other hand to her waist.

  It was as if, with one kiss, the dam holding him back had crashed open, and he held her in his strong arms as his tongue plunged into her mouth to taste and explore.

  Fuck, he feels good. There was no way this was actually happening. It was too perfect, the feelings too much for this not to be a dream.

  A delicious throb began between her fevered thighs as he kissed her, and yes—he was the one kissing her now. There had been no doubt in her mind that she’d never want to stop kissing him, stop touching him, if she ever started, but she had no idea how physically true that was. Someone would have to pry her away now. With one kiss, she’d felt her soul merge with his.

  Her hand cupped the back of his neck, their bodies flush together. The length of him hardened as it pressed against her lower stomach, and she cursed and bit his lip. He responded by pulling her tighter before backing her up against the wall.

  His erection ground into her as they devoured each other, and she spread her legs and grabbed his ass with both hands to pull him closer. Wet heat pooled between her thighs, and she rubbed herself against him, trying to get some friction to ease the ache.

  He grabbed her wrists from behind him, pushed them up over her head, and held them there with one hand, while his other trailed down her chest slowly, stopping to cup one of her breasts. She moaned and bucked her hips, and he responded by biting her lower lip, running his tongue over it after to soothe the sting.

  “Yes,” she said, breathless, before leaning forward to catch his mouth again.

  When she didn’t feel his lips press back against hers, she opened her eyes. Though her hands were still over her head and their bodies connected, he was leaning away, the look on his face as if he’d just realized what he’d done. He stared at her for a minute before shaking his head and letting go of her wrists. Her arms dropped to her sides as he slowly backed away. The loss of him was immediate, and she stepped forward.

  “Don’t,” he said, putting his hand up.

  Halting her steps, she took in his disheveled clothes, the wild look in his eyes, the erection straining to get free. His body still wanted her. She moved closer.

  “I said fucking stop, Katherine.”

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  “This isn’t gonna happen. You and me.”

  It was like he’d slapped her across the face. She wanted to know why, when every part of her body was screaming that it should happen. That it would.

  “Why not?” she asked anyway.

  “You’re my client.”

  “And?”

  “That alone should be enough for you.”

  “Well, it’s not. What else?”

  When she took a step forward, he turned away and ran a hand over his head. Groaning in frustration, he said, “You want this to be a fling? Is that what you want? Our lives don’t fit, Katherine, and they never will.”

  “But you’re attracted to me.”

  “Yes.”

  She hadn’t expected him to answer honestly. Even though his words had been harsh, they were passionate, and that meant she couldn’t give up.

  “And you’re not even willing to try?”

  He pinned her with an unrelenting stare. “No.”

  “I’ll change your mind,” she said, her fingers grazing his shirt again.

  He caught her hand and then dropped it before backing away. “Please don’t. This was a mistake.”

  No it’s not.

  He left her standing there as he walked away, and she let him.

  His resolve was crumbling. Tonight had just been the tipping point. If this was how he wanted to play it, she was game.

  THINGS WERE TENSE. Unbearably so.

  When he’d passed Katherine on his way out the door that night, he’d felt the taut wire between them coiling and pulling them closer, though they hadn’t said a word to each other. They didn’t have to—their eyes had said it all.

  What happened last night had been wrong. He knew that. His mind told him that. But he wasn’t sorry. Kissing her hadn’t felt wrong, not in the slightest. Even as the words “This was a mistake” had tumbled from his lips while she stared up at him, lips swollen and needy, he knew they’d been a lie.

  If he were honest with himself, he was shocked as hell at how fucking perfect she’d been in his arms. She was his every fantasy come true, one he hadn’t even allowed himself to consider before, and now that he’d tasted her, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Chaos swirled around them, and though there were more important things to be focused on, he couldn’t have said what they were.

  He pushed himself harder and faster as he headed into the last mile, the pine trees he ran alongside becoming nothing but a stroke of green paint as he passed them.

  Lately he’d been thinking a lot about right and wrong, black and white. He’d never crossed the line. Not with a client. Not with a moral he held in high regard. Not with authorities. Not with anyone or anything. Not ever.

  Yet the last few weeks had turned him into someone he barely recognized. And in the middle of that storm of change was Katherine.

  The spirited pain in his ass he couldn’t stop thinking about. The one he knew better than to touch. But he’d never had someone open up to him the way she had, and he could tell it was the same for her. She was so closed off, so private with what she felt and what she really wanted, putting on a confident face for everyone while hiding who she was. It was that confidence that he’d mistaken for spoiled arrogance when they’d first met.

  It was true that you never knew what lurked in someone’s private life, what pain and suffering they were going through. He’d been quick to assume, and for the first time in his life, he’d been wrong.

  Would it be so bad to try, like she’d asked? Probably.

  It was the first rule in the handbook: “Thou shalt not have fucking relatio
ns with a client, current or former.” Not that many others he worked with had adhered to that rule, but he had. With the life he’d chosen, he’d never formed attachments, romantic or otherwise. Keep it casual, keep it outside of work, and never let anyone in too close. The life he lived was dangerous, and it was selfish and reckless to bring anyone into that.

  But Katherine made him want to see what he was missing. Made him want to confide his deepest, darkest secrets and pray she wouldn’t run. Made him want to wrap her in his arms and heal the broken pieces of her, one by one. To fix her fractured relationship with her father and with her best friend. To take away her living nightmare.

  He wanted to change the plan for her. But how?

  Slowing to a walk, he paced in front of the apartment complex as his mind warred with what to do. Once he stepped inside that front door, the precarious edge they were balancing on would tilt one way or another. Was he prepared for the consequences of his choice? That was the question.

  He lingered outside until long after daylight had faded and a crisp winter breeze froze his sweat-dampened clothes. With every stair he climbed, he felt his resolve in his decision strengthen. But it wasn’t until he walked through the door and took one look at her that he fell, completely and unabashedly, off the edge of the cliff.

  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Katherine said, smiling at him where he stood motionless in the doorway, all signs of the earlier tension gone. She was toweling off a fry pan, a smudge of what looked like flour lining her cheek. “If you come and get this sloth away from the table, I’ll feed you too.”

  Kirkpatrick groaned and pushed back his chair to rub his belly. “I think that was enough to send me into a food coma. Watch out, Garrett, she’s on a cooking spree.”

  Laughing, Katherine took his empty plate to the sink. “Well, I figured I owed you breakfast for dinner after you rocked that costume so hard.”

  “Perfection,” Kirkpatrick said. “You’ve been holding out on us this whole time. Eating cereal and making us eat takeout and pizza.”

  “Oh, like that’s a bad thing” she replied, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. She leaned across the counter and held it out to Jason. “You look thirsty.”