A Hope City Duet

by Kris Michaels

  “I hear a ‘but’ coming,” Martin pressed.

  “He has the ability, but not the heart. I know that’s not needed in this business, and maybe, sometimes, mine gets in the way.”

  “You know, Harper, a lot of people think that insurance companies are just out to take your money. Sometimes, that’s true. But for me, when I actually get to send a check to a family to help them rebuild their lives, I feel good about who I am and what I’m doing. Not everybody in this business has that, but you do.”

  She was glad for her boss’ understanding and drove to the lab. John greeted her with his usual enthusiasm, and his funny smile was a balm after Peter’s indifference.

  “Hey, girl! I haven’t seen you in a while. What’s shaking?”

  Laughing, she held up the evidence kit. “To be honest, not seeing me is a good thing. That means I don’t have a new fire to look at.”

  His face scrunched in thought. “You’re right. Well, I guess I just have to hope for fires so that I get to see you.”

  Setting her evidence on his lab table, she scolded, “Don’t even joke about that, John!”

  He threw his hands up in front of him and stepped back. “Sorry, sorry! Bad joke.”

  They followed procedure as he checked in the evidence and she signed off on all of his forms. She caught him staring, and asked, “What?”

  “I was just wondering if you were still seeing that detective.”

  Her smile widened, and before she had a chance to answer, he scowled. “I can tell from that goofy look on your face that you are.”

  “I’m not sure that goofy is the right word, but yes, I’m still seeing Sean. In fact, I’ve got a date tonight and need to stop by the hospital to visit a client first. So, if you’ve got everything you need, I’ll say goodbye.”

  His shoulders slumped, but he offered a slight smile. “I’m glad you’re happy, Harper. Have a good time tonight.”

  With a wave, she hurried out of the lab and back to her car. Once at the hospital, she wondered what she would be facing. Making her way to the fifth floor, she saw a young woman standing outside the hospital room bouncing a small child on her hip, chatting with several other people.

  The woman looked at her as she approached, and she introduced herself. “Mrs. Habib? My name is Harper Walsh, from Eastern Mutual Insurance Company. I wanted to come by and see how you and your family are doing.” Her gaze shifted to the doorway next to the other women, and she asked, “I understand your husband is here?”

  Nodding, Mrs. Habib said, “Yes, he was injured. The smoke detector was going off, and he was afraid for us to try to get down the stairs. I got halfway and then jumped over the banister down into the hall. He rushed back up to get our son and dropped him into my arms. He followed right after, but inhaled smoke and burned his hands as he tried to feel his way along the wall.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Habib. Do you and your family have somewhere you’ll be staying?”

  One of the women nearby interjected into their conversation. “I’m her sister. They’ll stay with me.”

  She smiled softly, her expression warm. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. I just wanted to check to see how you were doing.”

  “We had insurance. Will we get anything? Will it pay?”

  She looked at Mrs. Habib’s anxious face, her fear of the unknown future tangible between them. Nodding, she reached out her hand and placed it gently on the woman’s arm. “One of our insurance adjusters will be in contact with you tomorrow. The Fire Department determined that the fire was started from a small space heater in your living room. I did an examination today, and I concur that was where the fire started—”

  “My husband always checks it at night. He always turns it off,” Mrs. Habib cried.

  “I also found the heater turned off,” Harper rushed to assure. “We’ve taken it to our lab for examination, but your husband was not at fault. And yes, your insurance will pay to help you start your life over again.”

  She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and swallowed past the lump in her throat as Mrs. Habib’s face crumpled into tears, the other women surrounding her with hugs and tears of their own. Stepping back, she turned to leave when a hand grasped hers, and she looked to see an older woman peering up at her with tears running down her face.

  “Thank you,” the woman said. “I am the grandmama. The news you bring today will make everyone feel so much better.”

  “You’re welcome. I wanted to make sure they knew everything would be taken care of.” With a final nod toward Mrs. Habib, she walked back out of the hospital and climbed into her car. Exhausted, and yet elated, she drove to the grocery store, a smile on her face. Work for the day was done, and now it was time to think of her date.

  20

  Sean drove to Harper’s apartment, anxious for their date but having a hard time putting his work behind him. His mind rolled over the events of the day, churning them around, trying to make sense of their investigation.

  He and Jonas had reviewed the evidence, including the lab reports and the lists of buyers from the chemical companies.

  He had spent time earlier in the day doing a little research on John Simpson, finding it difficult to get Shamika’s description out of his mind. Fuckin’ Firestarter. The basic information on John turned up nothing noteworthy. Graduated from the University of Missouri with a degree in Chemistry. John had little social media presence, but a quick study of his friends showed that he tended to hang with others interested in chemistry. John had moved to Hope City to obtain his Master’s Degree in Chemistry from the university there. He found John’s YouTube channel, a virtual how to start a fire and blow up shit channel.

  “I’m finding some information on John Simpson,” he had said, looking at Jonas. “He’s definitely worth looking into more, but right now I’ve got a date.”

  Jonas had grinned and tossed a two-fingered salute as Sean shut down his computer.

  Now, forcing his thoughts of John from his mind, he focused on his drive, occasionally casting his gaze toward the bouquet of flowers in the seat next to him.

  Once there, she buzzed him up. After stepping off the elevator, he walked down the hall toward Harper’s apartment. Just as he reached her door, Daniel came out of the door across the way, closing it behind him. The older man’s gaze dropped to the flowers and wine bottle in Sean’s hands.

  A smile spread across Daniel’s face. “I’ve been smelling Harper’s melt-in-your-mouth chicken for the past half hour. I can tell you from previous experience, you’re in for a treat.”

  Melt in your mouth... Jesus. Sean smiled and cleared his throat. “Nice to see you again, Daniel.”

  Daniel tilted his head toward Harper’s door. “I’ve been taking care of the residents in this apartment building for a couple of years now, and it’s no secret that Harper is special. Always respectful, always friendly.” He clapped Sean on the shoulder as he walked down the hall. “And that chicken… damn, it’s good.”

  Sean lifted his hand to knock on her door when it suddenly opened, and she was standing before him. Her thick hair was down, hanging below her shoulders. Her dark eyes appeared large and a touch of gloss coated her lips. Once his eyes landed on her lips, he had a hard time thinking of anything other than kissing her. Forcing his gaze downward, he continued his appreciation at the way her tight pants hugged her long legs and ended on her peach-colored toenails.

  Staring at her feet, he grinned, and her chin dropped as she looked down as well. “I know I should’ve put on shoes, but I like to be comfortable at home.”

  He handed her the bouquet of flowers, which she gathered into her arms, her smile wider as she sniffed the blooms. Leaning forward, he placed his hand on her waist and kissed her gently.

  A buzzer sounded from the kitchen behind them, and she startled out of her hazy appraisal of him. “Oh, perfect. You’re just in time.” She whirled around and quickly headed back into her apartment, calling over her shoulder, “I thought I heard voices in
the hallway.”

  Entering behind her, he shut the door. “I ran into Daniel outside. He told me he smelled your chicken cooking, and I was in for a treat.”

  As he stepped around the counter, he spied her bending over, pulling out a dish from the oven. The scent emanating from the pan teased his nostrils, but his attention was locked on her ass, sending a signal to his cock, which he had to fight to keep from growing hard.

  “I like to cook but cooking for one isn’t a lot of fun.” Setting the dish on the stovetop, she checked a couple of pans, stirred, then replaced the lids. “Sometimes I’ll have a few friends over, but other times I’ll take something to Daniel or invite him here.”

  “I’m sure he appreciates it.” He placed the bottle of wine on the counter.

  She turned and leaned her hip against the counter. “Well, it’s not like he doesn’t get home-cooked meals. I’ve told you that there are several older, single women in this apartment building who I think are casting their nets toward him.”

  “Ah, bribery with food?”

  Nodding, she emphasized, “Oh, yeah! Sometimes I think Daniel is the most well-fed person in this entire building!”

  He laughed along with her as he stepped directly into her space. Placing his hands on the counter on either side of her, he boxed her in. She tilted her head back, and as he leaned forward, their lips were a whisper apart. “That’s good. Because I’d like to be the recipient of your home-cooked meals, and I hate to think I was taking away Daniel’s only source of food.”

  Before she had a chance to respond, he closed the distance and their lips met, a slow, gentle kiss that he worked to control from flaming. He felt her melt against him, her arms encircling his waist.

  Finally dragging her lips from his, she whispered, “We should eat before it gets cold.”

  Leaning back for another quick kiss, he straightened and stepped away, knowing he needed some distance if they were actually going to eat the meal she prepared. Smiling at the lust-filled look of longing on her face, he agreed. “I’ll pour the wine.”

  The meal was soon plated and on the table. Moaning after taking a bite of the chicken smothered in cream sauce, rice, and cheese, he swallowed. “Damn, girl, you can cook. Daniel was right about this.” His brows drew together as he tried to remember Daniel’s exact words. “I think he said this was melt-in-your-mouth chicken?”

  Nodding, Harper smiled, clearly pleased by his praise. “That’s the name of the recipe. Actually, Sandy calls it orgasmic-chicken.”

  At that, he blinked, feeling a stab of lust. It did not matter if she was referring to their meal, the word ‘orgasmic’ leaving Harper’s lips had him fighting another hard-on. Blowing out a long breath, he gave his head a little shake, determined to make it through the meal like a normal adult and not a horny teenager. “Tell me about your day.”

  Taking another sip of wine, she lifted her napkin and wiped her lips. “Well, today I had a fire scene to examine.” He lifted his gaze and cocked his head to the side, and she hurried to say, “There was no arson involved. It was just an accident. A space heater caught on fire.”

  “Was anyone hurt?”

  Instead of answering, her lips curved into a slow smile before she finally shook her head side to side. Curious about her smile, he asked, “What are you thinking?”

  She glanced down at her plate for a few seconds before lifting her gaze back to his. “I’m thinking how sweet it is that the first thing you wanted to know was if anyone was hurt.”

  “That’s the first thing I always think of, Harper. Even before my brain starts processing the fire scene, I always wonder if someone’s hurt.”

  “The father was injured, but not severely. After I processed the fire scene, I went to the hospital to check on the family. I didn’t see him, but I saw his wife and their baby, chatted with her for a few minutes, and let them know that our company would help take care of them.”

  She picked up her fork and began eating again, and Sean was glad she was not looking at him. He wanted to preserve that moment when she had no idea that he was staring at her, his heart pounding in his chest, beating out the rhythm of an emotion that he could not quite name yet.

  Finally, dragging his eyes back to his plate, he continued eating the meal. By the time it was finished, he told her once again how delicious it was. She blushed as she accepted his compliment, then hopped up from the table and brought over two slices of chocolate mousse.

  “These are store-bought. I like to bake, but I just didn’t have time to do anything special.”

  He poured more wine for both of them. “Harper, sweetheart, you don’t have to apologize for anything. The fact that you even fixed a home-cooked meal means more to me than you can imagine.” As he stood to her side pouring the wine in her glass, his hand rested lightly on the back of her neck, the feel of her thick hair sliding over his fingers. His hand gave a little squeeze, and she twisted her head and looked up at him, her eyes bright as she smiled in thanks.

  The sexual tension snapped through the air. Am I the only one feeling this? Watching her hand shake slightly as she dipped into the decadent dessert, he knew he was not the only one affected.

  They finished quickly, the conversation having slowed between them as though neither knew what to say. She was adept at using her splinted hand, and it took little time to rinse off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. He watched as she fiddled nervously with the dishtowel, wiping off an imaginary spot on the counter.

  Stepping behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around so that she was facing him. Taking the towel from her hands, he tossed it to the counter and watched as she nibbled on her lip.

  “Harper,” he called gently, waiting until her eyes moved from a point over his shoulder up to meet his gaze. “I don’t want you to be nervous. If this is all we do tonight… just enjoy a wonderful dinner, then that’s perfect—”

  “I’m trying not to jump you.”

  Her words, spoken in a rush, caused his own words to halt in his throat as his eyes widened in uncertainty.

  She continued to blurt, “I wanted to jump you the moment you walked in, but with the beautiful flowers and bottle of wine, I knew that would seem crass. After all, you needed to eat, and I had promised to feed you. But I mentioned that Sandy called my meal orgasmic chicken and then all I could think about was the word ‘orgasmic’. And with you sitting there right next to me, I thought I was absolutely going to combust—”

  Before she had a chance to continue, his hands shot to her armpits and he lifted her up easily, plopping her ass onto the kitchen counter as he moved forward, his hips forcing her knees apart. He pressed his pelvis against her core and her breasts crushed against his chest. His arms banded around her with one hand cupping the back of her head. Hesitating for a second to make sure she was with him, he watched her lips curve before he slammed his mouth down, taking her lips in a searing kiss.

  Her hands, which had already clutched his shoulders, now wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling them even tighter together. His lips moved over hers, the soft flesh yielding to his firm onslaught. A moan slipped from her lips, and not about to let an opportunity pass, he slid his tongue into her mouth, eliciting another moan from deep inside her chest.

  She tasted like heaven, the wine and chocolate combining as his tongue slid over her velvet softness, creating sensations that made him forget everything other than this woman in his arms at this moment.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, then tightened her thighs as the kiss grew deeper. His cock was now firmly pressed against her core, and he could swear he felt her heat through the layers of clothes.

  His hands went to the bottom of her sweater, and he slid his fingers underneath the material, feeling the soft skin of her back. He continued to move his hands upward, dragging the material along with him until it caught on the underside of her breasts. With her hands on his shoulders, she pushed back slightly, and their gazes held. He felt
as though time stood still as their eyes remained locked on each other, questions and answers, needs and wants, hopes and desires all swirling between them.

  Her kiss-swollen lips curved upward once again, and she raised her hands until they were straight above her head. He could not help but grin as the idea of yelling ‘touchdown’ moved through his mind when he lifted the sweater over her breasts, past her head, and over her arms still lifted in the air.

  His gaze dropped over her creamy skin, her breasts supported by the delicate pink satin and lace bra. Moving forward, he kissed her again, then trailed his lips down her jaw and neck, nipping slightly where her pulse raced underneath his lips. He continued on his path, planting kisses over the mounds of her breasts. His hands slid to her back, his fingers finding the hooks. Lifting his head slightly, he held her gaze again, silently seeking permission.

  A quick nod gave him what he needed, and he unfastened her bra, slowly drawing the satin forward until it fell off her fingertips onto the floor.

  His gaze devoured her breasts, their perfect size and shape molding to his palm as his thumbs grazed her nipples, drawing them to hard points. His mouth continued its trail of kisses, now moving over the mounds and latching onto a nipple, sucking it deeply into his mouth with a pull that elicited another moan from deep inside her chest as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  He was barely aware of her hands now moving to his shirt, undoing the buttons down the front as she mumbled, “Off. I need this off.”

  He leaned back just enough for her hands to finish the buttons on his shirt, fumbling slightly before he assisted in shrugging it off his shoulders. Now, bare-chested, he watched her eyes darken as they followed her fingers moving over his naked torso. Her fingers trailed over his muscles, and he fought to not twitch when they reached his lower sides. He must not have been successful when her eyes brightened and jumped up to his.