I Burned Down His House (Love at First Crime Book 3)

by Jessica Frances

  “I’m not a baby. I’m a big boy,” Jensen announces loudly and proudly.

  “That you are, sweetie,” Sasha coos. “You’re getting so heavy.”

  “I’m going on the PlayStation,” Van grumbles, making a quick beeline down the hallway.

  “Only until the food is ready, and then you come out and be social!” Ava calls out after him.

  All he does is give her a wave of his arm, which doesn’t really say yes or no.

  “He seems like he’s in a good mood,” Cynthia quietly retorts.

  “He’s actually better than he has been.” Ava takes the wine out of my hand, inhaling the fumes deeply before reluctantly giving it back. “Hormonal teenager, plus a hormonal pregnant woman, is not making a fun household.”

  “Yikes. Well, at least yours will end in a few months,” Sasha points out.

  “It can’t come fast enough. I am dying for a glass of wine.”

  “Don’t the doctors say you can have one glass every once in a while or whatever?” Cynthia asks.

  “Yeah, but I feel guilty. I don’t know,” she says with a dramatic sigh. “I can hold on. I managed with Jensen.”

  “You didn’t have a heartbroken teenage boy to deal with then,” Sasha points out.

  “Shut up and let me live in my delusional world,” Ava grumbles, heading into the kitchen where she begins quickly picking at the food.

  I watch the three interact, feeling a little envious at their ease with each other as they chat and move around, already knowing where utensils belong, what pots are okay to use, and all starting in on their own thing, not needing to be told what to do. It’s clear there is a lot of history between them.

  Jensen gets bored of our company rather quickly, and when I offer to start moving bowls outside, he plods along next to me, babbling in a voice that sounds cute, but I miss most of what he says.

  With the back door open, he races out to his father, who luckily has both hands free so he can catch his son when Jensen leaps at him.

  I smile at them, liking the warm atmosphere out here.

  “I can’t believe you dragged me out to this,” Harvey grumbles, moving over to me and grabbing a cheese cube out of the salad.

  “Excuse me? I didn’t drag you out here. In fact, you didn’t even come with me!”

  “I knew you would nag at me if I didn’t,” he retorts around his chewing.

  “It’s not that bad,” I say, choosing not to agree or disagree with his statement. Mainly because we both know I probably would have.

  “You’re right, but they have shit beer.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. Next time, be sure to put your order in ahead of time, or better yet, bring your own.”

  “I’ll do that,” he says on a sigh, and I grin at what he insinuates.

  “You mean, there will be a next time?”

  He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t deny it, and I don’t push since I don’t want him to decide he would rather not.

  “Make way,” Cynthia calls out, pushing past us to drop the large tray of potato bake onto the board in the middle of the table. She pulls off her oven mitts to drop a large spoon in there before leaving us.

  “Shit, how much food they got here?”

  “I know. I’m worried about how we’re going to fit the other eighty people who aren’t here yet,” I joke.

  “Nah, Sasha always overstocks these things. After one dinner, Declan was eating leftovers for a fortnight,” Joey interrupts, grabbing a cherry tomato out of the salad bowl and throwing it into his mouth.

  I frown. “That seems like a waste.”

  “I think she just gets so excited hosting these things. When we were kids, Zander, mine, another friends’ parents, as well as Declan’s grandmother, put these types of dinners on during the summer all the time. I think she just wants to recreate those moments. Prepare to smile a lot, because she takes a ton of photos at these things, too,” Joey warns.

  Harvey glares at me like this is all my fault. In response, I reach out, grab a cheese stick, and stove it in his mouth before I walk off.

  Even though I worried about me and Harvey being outsiders, the night ends up being a huge success. Everyone is smiling, laughing, and Harvey even tells everyone a story. Sasha actually takes out her phone to record it, stating she will think she imagined it without proof.

  I am between Joey and Harvey, and by the end of the night, Joey has his arm around me and I’m leaning into his side. It feels easy and natural. I don’t think I ever felt this way with Jarrod. I was never at ease with him like this, never more myself or more content.

  It’s scary to think things might not work out with Joey, but at least I know what I am looking for now. I won’t ever settle for less than this feeling.

  Late into the night, we all begin to wind down.

  Jensen is asleep in Declan’s lap, Ava is asleep on Zander’s shoulder, Van barely came out for half an hour before disappearing back inside to play his video games, and Joey and Cynthia get into a heated debate about some woman who works at a pizzeria down the road.

  “Aren’t you glad you came?” I quietly ask Harvey, who just finished laughing at something Sasha said to him.

  “I guess so,” he says on a shrug, refusing to give me much.

  “Come on. Since you had tonight off, what would you be doing right now if you weren’t here?”

  He smirks at me. “Getting laid.”

  “Really?” I gasp, not sure why I’m so surprised by this. Harvey is a catch, and I already established he is a gay version of Joey. “Have you met someone?” I tack on, hoping he might tell me someone has caught his eye.

  “No, but I would have tonight, so I could have gotten laid.”

  I roll my eyes. “There is more to life than getting laid, Harvey.”

  “Not to me there isn’t.”

  “I am so going to laugh when you get hit by cupid’s arrow.”

  “Laugh all you want, but I haven’t met a man who made me think twice.”

  I roll my eyes again, looking forward to meeting the man who will take Harvey down.

  “Who’s ready for dessert?” Sasha asks.

  Each one of us, who are awake that is, groan in pain.

  “No fucking way!” Harvey growls, and everyone laughs.

  “The novelty of you talking is beginning to wear off,” she warns.

  “Good.”

  She rolls her eyes, but still manages to get him to eat a piece of cake, along with everyone else. We are all too full to taste anything, but we all still laugh as each of us moan at our overstuffed state.

  When we do this again, I vote we go anywhere but Sasha and Declan’s house.

  Chapter 14

  The rest of the week is hectic, to say the least. Because of the recording device in Hart’s office, they are gathering loads of information, meaning they are all scrambling to run new leads down, while also keeping an eye on Hart. Gemma has called in sick at the club just so they can ease having someone keeping an eye on her, and so she can help with following up on all the new information.

  This also means I have eaten dinner alone all week. Joey and I do talk on the phone or text message each other a lot, but I am largely left wanting more.

  There have been no romantic dinners, no seducing of any kind. We occasionally have make-out sessions, either after Joey crawls into bed when we are too tired to take things further, or when I’m heading out to work and have no time to move things to the next level, yet there has been no follow through on the multiple orgasm promise.

  I wouldn’t call Joey a liar since I’m pretty sure with how good the man can kiss, he is totally going to rock my world in the bedroom, but I am disappointed I haven’t gotten some actual evidence to this.

  Since it’s been a long time for me, I’m scared I might either disappoint Joey or cause him to lose interest. All this waiting is just dragging out my nerves and worries more.

  J: How is your day?

  T: Slow. What are you up to?

&n
bsp; J: Chasing down a lead in Davenport. I’m going to miss dinner again, sorry.

  T: That’s okay, as long as you guys are getting what you need and this can be over soon.

  J: Definitely. We got some great leads. Zander found a woman being held against her will from one of the names Clayton dropped. They arrested the guy, but she’s not talking.

  T: Wow! That is great news. Was it just her or are there more?

  I recall the details of Ava’s case. Her ex-boyfriend had several places set up where men could live out their sickest fantasies, all to be recorded and seen by many other creeps around the world. From what I was told, there were several women being held against their will. After the police got involved and it was too big to cover up, they found dozens of women being held in cages throughout Chicago and some neighboring cities.

  The bodies of the women before them were never found.

  J: Just her. We’re hoping once she feels safe enough, she’ll talk.

  This whole thing is giving me the creeps. It’s easy to get caught up in life and not think about this stuff happening, especially in your own city.

  T: Just be safe out there.

  J: Always am. You have tomorrow morning off. I have the morning off. Prepare for breakfast in bed and some serious seduction.

  I turn from ice-cold to flushed in two seconds flat.

  T: Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

  J: I will rock your world tomorrow. Got my clown outfit pressed and ready to woo you when I come to bed later tonight.

  T: Don’t forget the purple wig!

  I laugh, wondering if Joey will seriously wear that ridiculous outfit again. It does make me smile, but it won’t set the right mood.

  ***

  A knock at my front door later that night has me tensing. I’m not expecting anyone, and since I’m home alone, I’m nervous to answer.

  What if it’s Hart? What if he pushes his way in here?

  I glance in the direction of Karma, who is outside. She doesn’t make a peep.

  It could be a good sign she’s not reacting, which she seems to always do when Hart is nearby. Then again, she’s out back without the street visible to her.

  Nervous, I slowly move toward the door when there is another loud banging. I reach out and grab my phone, pulling up Joey’s information and ready to dial if I need to. Then I step up to the peephole and gaze through.

  My fear turns immediately to excitement as I throw the door open.

  “Grayson?” I gasp, my entire body locking in shock. “What are you doing here?”

  My wayward brother doesn’t answer me. Instead, he sweeps me into his arms, twirls me around in my front doorway, narrowly missing knocking me into the frame, before he puts me back down so he can hold me in front of him and assess me.

  “Have you been eating?” are his first words to me.

  I roll my eyes, dragging him past me, then shutting and locking the door behind him. He has a duffle bag with him, but since he travels light everywhere he goes, I can’t tell if he plans on staying for a couple days or a couple months.

  Grayson is the tallest of my brothers, as well as the youngest. He’s two years older than me, but he, along with my other four brothers, act like they are my fathers. I will always be the baby of the family, and no matter how nuts it sometimes drives me, they each treat me like I’m hopeless.

  “Yes, I’ve been eating,” I snap, brushing his hand away when he tries to pull on my ponytail.

  “Right, well, you might need to up your intake.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” I sarcastically retort, but he doesn’t even react to my barb.

  “Where is this man you’re supposedly dating?” he asks, glancing around the room.

  My mouth drops open, and I curse Mom. She can never keep anything to herself. For Grayson to know, that means all my family knows.

  “Did you come up here just to check Joey out?”

  “Now that would be crazy.” He winks at me before dumping his stuff on the floor of my living room. “You don’t mind me staying for a few days?”

  “Of course not.”

  Grayson has stayed with me on and off since I first moved out. Even when I was married to Jarrod, he stayed with us frequently. He doesn’t own his own place, doesn’t seem to have any sort of consistent work, and yet he always lands on his feet wherever he ends up.

  “You’re the best.” He smiles before making himself at home by raiding my fridge.

  I glance down at his duffel bag, and then consider my two-bedroom house.

  My second bedroom currently has Joey’s things in it. And Joey is staying with me, even if he hasn’t slept in that room for a few days. It’s still presumptuous to assume he will stay in my bed, and likely bad form to kick him out of a bed I gave him after I burned his house down.

  “What are we having for dinner?” Grayson asks, stuffing his face with leftover, cold lasagna. That plate is big enough to feed two, and he wants to know what’s for dinner? It’s good to know some things never change.

  “We could get pizza,” I offer, and his eyes light up. Grayson has always been a sucker for pizza. Whenever he’s in town, we always get it together. It’s his solution for everything.

  Just gone through a breakup? Have pizza.

  Lost your job? Have pizza.

  Got a wicked deal on your new car? Have pizza.

  Woke up before midday? Have pizza.

  It’s probably the main staple of his diet. And, of course Grayson is slim, lean, and without an ounce of fat on him.

  I know he’s had many girlfriends who have cussed his inability to gain weight. Once he had an ex-girlfriend curse him to get fat when they broke up. She was Wiccan and believed she had powers. His still current, lean body suggests otherwise.

  “Great idea! Will it just be us two?” He waggles his eyebrows, and I laugh, despite my worry over how he’s going to react to Joey.

  I ponder if Joey has ever been interrogated by the police before? If not, he’s about to get a taste of that soon.

  “He’s working. Won’t be home till late.”

  “He left my baby sister home alone on a Friday night?” Grayson holds his chest as he dramatically gasps. “Now I definitely need to have a talk with him. What does he do again?”

  “He’s a private investigator,” I say on an eye roll.

  “Oh, so he’s, like, probably watching two cheaters getting it on right now?”

  Since he’s following Hart’s leads, I really hope there is none of that. Especially if they are right about what they suspect he’s into.

  “Maybe. You want the usual?”

  He nods, still shoveling lasagna into his mouth.

  I ring up and order enough pizza for a family of six, hoping Grayson leaves some for Joey.

  “Want me to dump my stuff in your spare room?” he asks between bites.

  “Actually, Joey’s stuff is in there.”

  He gives me a strange look. “I thought you guys were dating or whatever.”

  “It’s new.”

  “So, you’re saying you guys are waiting for the wedding night or something?”

  “No!” I throw a cushion at him, just avoiding hitting his plate and getting pasta sauce everywhere. “Do you seriously want to talk about this?”

  “God no, but where am I staying then?”

  When I tap the couch I’m sitting on, he groans.

  “The couch? I’m your brother. Kick Joey out onto the couch.”

  “I burned Joey’s house down, so his guilt is more effective than yours right now.”

  Grayson’s eyes immediately narrow on me. “Has he been doing that? Making you feel guilty?”

  “No,” I quickly answer as Grayson places his empty plate on the coffee table and collapses next to me. “He’s been great about it all, actually.”

  “And you’re sure he’s not taking advantage of you?”

  “He’s not. He’s a good man. I really like him, but we’re taking things slow.”


  “Is that because of what happened with Jarrod?” he asks angrily.

  It’s no secret that after what happened between me and Jarrod, he gained five very angry enemies. Six, if you include my mom.

  “A little,” I admit. “I hate that he stole away my ability to trust people. I don’t believe Joey would ever do something like that to me, but a small part of me keeps bringing him and Natasha up in my mind.”

  “They stole more than your trust, Teagan. I haven’t seen the same woman you were for years. I was beginning to think they killed her.” He settles his head on my shoulder.

  I hope he can’t hear the wobble in my voice when I reply, “I think they did. But I like who I am now, and I think I’m happy here.”

  We stare at the blank TV for a moment while I catch my breath and blink my eyes enough that the tears disappear.

  “You know, for the longest time, you just seemed to only be existing, but Mom said you’ve made friends and that you’re giving dating a go. I had to see it with my own eyes.”

  “Gray,” I sigh heavily, waiting for him to look expectantly up at me. “These deep feelings don’t suit you.”

  “Shut up.” He jabs me in my side, and I ruffle his hair. It’s an easy target since he is still resting his head on my shoulder. “I’m just happy my sister is back, even if she is making me sleep on the couch.” He runs his hand through his hair, compulsively needing to make sure it’s okay.

  “This is a good, comfy couch. And it is much better than the floor,” I say, tapping the soft cushion.

  “True. Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite sister?”

  “I’m your only sister, idiot.”

  “But still my favorite. And I’m your favorite brother, right?” He leans back against me, his head again on my shoulder as he looks pleadingly up at me. This is another competition my brothers all participate in. They are all obsessed with getting the title of best brother. I generally change my answer to match whomever I am around.

  “Well … you’re my favorite brother in this room right now,” I say slowly, dodging his smack to my arm.

  “You little shithead. You love me the best; I know you do.”