by Rose Wulf
Before another word could be said, Dean’s voice called from the hallway. “You can start the party now!”
“You’re too late!” Angela called back quickly. “We started without you!”
Dean ambled into the living room a moment later, one hand in his pocket. “Then you’ll just have to start over again.” He smirked and crossed the living room to drop a hand on his sister’s head teasingly. “You wouldn’t want us to start without you one day, would you?”
Angela dragged his hand off of her hair with one hand, reaching up to try to smooth it back down with the other. “That would never happen. I know how to read my watch.”
“Ha!” Dean exclaimed even as Nate burst into laughter. Blake and Logan chuckled quietly, and Dean sighed dramatically, turning and moving to the couch to claim a seat between Nate and Blake. After he’d settled, he leaned forward to look around Blake and grinned at Brooke. “Hope you’re ready for this,” he said with a wink.
“Bring it on.”
They talked only a little about their still-unknown enemies, mostly to make sure that Dean had gotten Blake’s message about the second man. The group then spent the majority of the rest of the time talking about other things and arguing over which game they should play after dinner.
When dinner was just about ready, Brooke found herself making her way through a side hall in search of a bathroom. She’d gotten directions from Blake, but she was afraid she might have forgotten a detail. She sure felt lost.
“… more careful, mostly.” The whispered words drifted to Brooke from a partially open door to her right. After a moment, she realized the speaker was Eric. Though why he would be hiding out in some random room, and who he was talking to, she had no idea.
Maybe that’s the bathroom? Brooke wondered. She hesitated a moment before stepping up and tapping her knuckles lightly along the doorframe. Since the door was slightly open, she wasn’t worried about catching him in an awkward position, but she didn’t want to startle him by opening the door.
“Obv—” Eric began, cutting himself off when he registered the light sound of Brooke’s knock.
The door was pulled open, and even as Eric gave her a curious, slightly embarrassed look, Brooke realized that the room behind him was, in fact, not the bathroom. It looked like a home office. “Sorry!” Brooke stage-whispered with an awkward smile.
Eric’s lips curved up at the corners, and he held up one finger as he said into the phone, “Sorry, I have to go, I think dinner’s ready. Talk to you later.” He pulled the phone away from his ear, then, and slid it shut. To Brooke, he said, “Um, sorry… I know it’s kind of weird that I was on the phone in Mr. Hawke’s office, but it gets really good reception.” He paused and gestured to the large window wall behind him. “I think it’s the window.”
Brooke nodded and stepped back so that he could leave the room. “No, it’s fine… I was actually sort of hoping you could point me toward the bathroom. I think I took a wrong turn after the family-photo wall.”
Eric grinned and pointed down the hall. “You didn’t,” he said. “It’s that door there, on the left.”
Of course, it’s barely ten feet away, Brooke admonished herself. How embarrassing. “Thanks,” she said. “Dinner’s about ready, by the way.”
“Cool,” he replied, slipping his hands in his pockets and turning back the way she’d just come, toward the rest of the family.
****
“So, was it very bad?” Blake asked as he eased to a stop behind Brooke’s Civic in her driveway later that night. They had stayed for several hours after dinner, so it was nearly eleven o’clock by the time they arrived at her apartment.
Brooke laughed and shook her head. “No, you were right, it was fine.”
“Good,” Blake replied with a chuckle of his own. He turned the car off before shifting in his seat to face her better. “What’s your schedule tomorrow?”
“I work at four,” she said after a moment’s thought. “But I was planning to finish a paper that’s due before I went in.” She paused, one eyebrow curving up. “Why?”
“I haven’t had any time alone with you in days.”
Brooke smiled and released her seat belt. “I suppose you can come in if you’d like, Mr. Hawke.” She popped open her door with a wink and climbed out.
“Do you want some coffee or something?” Brooke offered as she flipped the lock behind them after they had slipped inside the apartment. “I’m thinking about making some for myself, so it’d be fine.”
“I’ll take a cup if you’re making it anyway,” Blake stated, watching her as she moved past her table and into the kitchen. His eyes never left her. The way she looked in those ivory pants, and the way her shirt rode up just enough to tease him when she stretched to reach—and later return—the coffee. He had to restrain himself from going up behind her and sliding his hands beneath her shirt.
“Can I ask you another question?” Brooke suddenly said, pulling Blake from his distracting thoughts. Somewhat.
Blake rested his hip against her table even as she turned to face him. “Of course.”
Brooke took a deep breath and Blake recognized the signs of embarrassment in her eyes. “I had this crazy thought,” she began, “and I’ve actually been wondering it for a while, but … when I’m, like, swimming in the ocean or something … can you feel me?”
Blake did his best to fight the grin that immediately wanted to curve his lips, but he didn’t quite succeed. “I can,” he said. “But only if I’m trying to. So, most of the time, no, I can’t. But that’s because I’m not trying.”
Brooke pursed her lips before turning and moving to her sink. She lifted the lever enough to create a small but steady stream. “So then you can feel my hand if I do this…?” She stuck her hand beneath the water, wiggling her fingers a little even as she turned back to grin at him.
Blake matched her grin and nodded. “I can,” he replied. His eyes crinkled with laughter as the water dripping from her hand curved up and swirled over her forearm slowly. “And I can feel you when I do that, too.”
Her attention had returned to her arm when the water began curving along it, defying gravity as it circled her skin up to the elbow.
“Of course,” Blake began, moving to stand in front of her and reaching out to trail his fingers along her dry arm. “I get a better image if you’re fully submerged, like if you’re swimming.”
Brooke allowed a secret smile to slowly curve her lips and she pulled her arm from the water, which immediately fell back to the sink, as she said, “That could be considered sort of perverted, you know.”
Blake reached past her and lowered the lever, shutting off the water flow and giving him a good excuse to trail the fingers of his other hand along her arm. “That’s why I don’t usually do it. Although, with you, I might start making an exception.”
He leaned in and she let her eyes flutter closed as their lips met. His arms curved around her loosely, and her hands came to rest on his chest.
Brooke pulled away after a long moment, mischief lighting her eyes. “Seeing as how I just made coffee, why don’t we watch a movie?”
Blake smiled and fought down the heat rushing through his veins. His hands settled lightly over her waist. “I’m game for that. Lead the way, beautiful.”
It took her no time at all to find a decent movie and set it up. Then she lowered herself directly beside Blake, shifting so that she could curl into him and use his shoulder as her pillow. His arm came around her automatically, his hand resting over her abdomen as a smile lifted his lips. He could easily get used to this.
With the exception of when they got up to get the coffee, Brooke spent the movie curled up against him, and he was ridiculously comfortable.
He was almost disturbed at how easy it was to do nothing with her and enjoy it. While he’d never been the type who always needed to be doing something, he had also never really been the type to enjoy just sitting around for long periods of time. And yet he could s
it in one position for nearly two hours, with Brooke curled into his side, and feel as if everything was right with the world. It was a nice feeling. The kind he wanted to hold on to for as long as he was able.
So when Brooke fell asleep shortly before the end of the movie, Blake happily took advantage of the opportunity to stay a little longer. After all, he couldn’t in good conscience leave her alone in an unlocked apartment.
****
“Come on, Brooke, pick up,” Blake pleaded under his breath as he sped toward her apartment. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was close enough now that he could see the thick plume of smoke as it reached for the sky. In his ear, the line kept ringing.
It had been nearly a week since she’d come to their monthly family dinner—just over a week since Nate had driven into the hail storm. Blake and Brooke had spent what time they could together, though between their conflicting work schedules and end-of-the-semester school projects, there hadn’t been as much time as either would have liked. He wasn’t expecting to see her again until Sunday.
But that was before the fire.
Brooke’s outgoing message was playing in his ear for the second time, and Blake cursed as he ended the call, not bothering to leave another message. It wasn’t like her to ignore her phone when she wasn’t working, but he knew she hadn’t been scheduled for that night. Maybe she picked up a shift last-minute. At the moment, he had no way of knowing. All he could do was hope.
Blake pulled to a stop along the curb barely a block from her complex. He cut the engine and climbed from his car even as the police officer he’d parked behind turned and started toward him. He recognized the man immediately, and after a beat, he looked past him toward the fire. He had really been hoping Dean had been exaggerating.
“Blake,” the officer called, coming to stand in front of him. “I’m afraid you have to stand back.”
Forcing his jaw to unlock, and hoping his tone was civil, Blake replied, “Yeah, I know. How bad is it?”
The officer turned toward the blaze.
The fire wasn’t quite under control yet, despite the numerous firetrucks and firefighters clogging the road just ahead. Flames still licked sporadically out a couple of windows, and thick, black smoke polluted the air above them. From where the two men were standing, it was obvious which apartment had been at the center of the blaze, and fortunately, it seemed to be the only apartment completely decimated.
But it was Brooke’s apartment. The sight of the structure charred, destroyed, and still burning made Blake’s stomach churn violently. He wanted to find and beat the person responsible about as badly as he wanted to throw up.
The police officer cleared his throat and looked back at Blake. “You can see for yourself the apartment’s a total loss.” He paused, and the look in his eyes told Blake that he had an idea of why Blake was there. “Dean went through it himself, and he said no one was there.”
The first flicker of relief ignited in Blake’s heart, and he released a heavy breath.
The officer waited long enough to see that his words had sunk in before continuing. “We’ve evacuated the front half of the complex. It doesn’t look like Ms. Munroe was anywhere around when the fire started.”
Blake’s gaze trailed away from the apartment, settling on the blown-out heap that had most likely once been Brooke’s car. It was obvious that the fire had spread from the apartment, covering the short distance between her front wall and her car.
“We matched the license plate to her car,” the officer said, seeing where Blake’s attention had gone. “Wherever she is, she clearly didn’t drive there. Have you tried calling her?”
“Yeah,” Blake replied slowly. “She’s not answering.”
Chapter Twenty
The officer frowned, but Blake’s attention had once again been pulled away. Dean had spotted them and was making his way over, frustration curving his lips in a fierce scowl.
When he reached them, Dean dropped a hand on the officer’s shoulder. “You mind if I take over?”
The officer nodded and quietly walked away, toward a group of observing civilians across the street.
“She wasn’t home?” Blake asked immediately, his voice tight and strained. He wasn’t sure he could believe it until his brother confirmed it.
Dean nodded shortly. “The apartment was empty. It’s a disaster inside, though. There isn’t anything the fire didn’t get.”
Blake swallowed heavily and let his gaze return to the building. “Better the apartment, and the car, than her.”
“I don’t disagree,” Dean said somberly. “Have you gotten a hold of her?”
“No. I left her a message, and I called twice, but nothing.”
Dean’s scowl deepened. “Is she working?”
“She wasn’t scheduled to,” Blake said. “I think I’m going to head over there and double check, though. It’s not like her to ignore my calls.” He paused, knowing he had to ask the question, and equally as certain he already knew the answer. “How did this happen?”
Dean’s voice was low and angry, his own eyes now focused on the lingering flames and billowing smoke. “Some sort of electrical fire,” he said. “Started in the living room. Near as I can tell, something hot and live hit the electrical socket. The rest is history.”
“Something like lightning?” Blake asked unnecessarily. Even Dean wouldn’t be able to know with absolute certainty, but lightning was more likely than someone sticking a stun-gun into the outlet.
“Exactly,” Dean replied.
Blake dragged in a breath and nodded again. Looking back to his brother, he said, “Thanks for calling me. I’m going to try to find Brooke, but…”
Dean forced a bitter smile. “If she comes home, I’ll have her call you. And, uh, speaking of calling … you mind calling the family? I haven’t exactly had the chance.”
“Sure,” Blake agreed. “Thanks.”
Dean turned and began walking back toward the apartment as Blake returned to his car. Blake wasted no time cranking the engine over, barely remembering to tug his seat belt into place as he made his first call. He talked to his father, giving him the short version, before calling Logan—and then Nate—and repeating the story. Logan offered to drive around and help look for Brooke, an offer Blake wasn’t stubborn enough to turn down.
He decided to call Brooke again, just to be safe. It rang four times before going to voicemail. He opted not to leave another message.
He’d barely disconnected the call when he pulled into the diner’s parking lot. Since her car had been home, he was fairly certain she wasn’t there. But maybe Georgia was, and maybe Georgia would know where to find her. It was that possibility that had him swinging into the first available spot, not bothering to correct his parking job before he got out of the car.
It was an effort to keep his building panic off his face as he entered the diner, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the front counter, but he wasn’t able to offer Shelly any kind of a smile. “Do you know if Brooke’s here?”
Shelly’s smile faltered. She hesitated, glancing at a paper he couldn’t see. “Um, she’s not listed. But I can grab Paula if you want…?”
“Please,” he said. Later, he might feel guilty about confusing or worrying Brooke’s coworkers, most of whom he’d known for years. But right now he simply didn’t care.
Shelly nodded and turned, quickly moving further into the diner. She wasn’t gone long, and Paula was leading the way when she returned. Paula’s expression bespoke curious confusion, but no concern. Clearly word had not reached Earl’s that one of their employees was now homeless.
“Blake?” Paula asked, coming to a stop in front of him. “Shelly tells me you’re looking for Brooke?”
“Yeah,” Blake replied with a short nod. “I know she wasn’t scheduled to be working tonight, but she’s not at home and she’s not answering her cell. Do you know where she might be?”
/>
Paula slowly shook her head, her curiosity beginning to give way to worry. “I don’t, sweetie. I wasn’t expecting to see her before tomorrow afternoon.”
“Is Georgia on tonight?” Blake asked, falling back to plan B.
“No,” Paula replied. Something lit up her eyes, and she added, “But I just remembered, it’s Georgia’s birthday. She took the whole day off—she does every year—so you might find Brooke at her place.”
Hope bubbled inside him, and Blake released a breath. “Okay,” he said. “Could I get an address? Or a phone number?”
Paula hesitated even as Shelly reached for a piece of paper and a pen. “What’s the emergency?”
It was Blake’s turn to hesitate, though he knew it was pointless. He was honestly amazed she didn’t already know. “Her apartment … caught fire,” he said carefully. “I know she wasn’t home when it happened, but I haven’t been able to reach her.”
Shelly had frozen, hand poised over the paper, and Paula’s eyes were wide with shock. “My goodness,” Paula murmured. “Well, when you find that girl, you tell her not to worry about working the rest of the weekend. She’s got other things to worry about right now.”
“Here you go,” Shelly said, holding out the paper. “Georgia’s address and cell phone number. I hope you find Brooke.”
Blake took the paper and nodded again. “Me, too. Thanks.” He left without another word, ignoring the stares of the two women behind him.
He had the address memorized by the time he’d buckled himself back into his car, and in no time he was on the road once more. Please let her be there. He still didn’t know why she wasn’t answering her phone, but he was willing to forgive that entirely as long as she was all right. If she wasn’t, he didn’t know what he’d do.
****
“And the word is,” Emma began, pausing dramatically as her eyes lifted from the card in her hand and she smiled. “Delicious! Mouth-watering, scrumptious, or luscious.” She leaned forward and set the card in the center of the circle so that everyone could see it.