Burning Bright

by Colleen S. Myers

  Your name

  Your address

  Your phone number

  Your e-mail address

  Your agent’s name

  Your agent’s address

  21,300 words.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  BURNING BRIGHT | by Colleen

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  MALLORY STILL SHOOK FROM SEEING JACOB, FROM...

  BENTLY PULLED UP IN FRONT OF THEM, RED AND BLUE...

  UNTITLED | FLICK STOOD WITH HIS ARM AROUND MALLORY FRIEND...

  CHAPTER

  EPILOGUE

  DELILAH WATTERS STARED AT THE TELEVISION.

  BURNING BRIGHT

  by Colleen

  “The room was dark, too dark.” Flick said under his breath in almost a whisper.

  “Did you want me to turn on the lights?” his lab assistant asked.

  Flick grinned and leaned over the Bunsen burner, the blue flames highlighting the hollows in his cheeks and below his brows. “No, it adds to the ambiance; we like it gloomy, don't we?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

  “Uh, yeah sure, whatever you say, boss.”

  Flick straightened up. “Today, Bob, we potentially identify this molecule and figure out why the hell my experiment doesn't work. Isn’t that exciting?” Flick looked up deliberately widening his eyes. “Why aren’t you excited?”

  “I’m excited. Why, I’m practically giddy.” Bob said completely devoid of any inflection or enthusiasm.

  Flick snorted. There was no sign of imminent excitement on his face and that just depressed him. Flick raised an eyebrow.

  Bob replied “Fine, I have a date tonight and theatrics aren’t needed. It is Friday.”

  Flick smiled. “Aw young love. Go on. I can finish this run. You go get ready for your date.”

  No sooner has Flick finished his sentence than Bob was out the door.

  Flick sighed and watched the flame of the Bunsen burner flicker once more. Its blue light called to him. There was something about the perfect blue that fanned out and fed a fire that thrilled him. Not that he would ever start one, but he loved the purity of the light. That’s why he always carried a lighter even after he stopped smoking. Science was the one retreat for him as a child. He loved his chemistry set, and then he had met his friends, John, Sara, Brae, and now Vicki. Life couldn’t get better than that. A loving family. His heart pinched. He couldn’t help pining for that himself. The nearest he’d ever come was with Cynthia, and that hadn’t ended well. He’d tried so damn hard but his job wasn’t good enough, his car wasn’t’ good enough, his hair. Hell, this body, tight though it was, was all for her, and she didn’t want it.

  Nope, relationships, at least romantic ones, were not for him. His eyes drifted back to the flame and locked on. Creation. That was his thing. He’d make a cleaner fuel source and a better world in the process. No high expectations there.

  He smiled and flipped a beaker, fumbling and nearly shattering it. A quick glance reassured him that Bob had made his escape prior to his failed flip and would not stand witness. Good.

  As he set the glass back down, the door opened and his jaw dropped. In walked a petite little thing, five feet two at most but full of curves. She had chocolate brown hair pulled back in a messy bun with a pencil behind her ear, minimal makeup and cat-eye glasses. Her tight body was housed in this sweet innocent looking navy blue number with white piping and comfortable heels. She wore pearls and a stray curl hugged the curve of her ear and damn, his fingers itched with the urge to push that strand back and maybe lean in for a kiss. Something about her stance, her defiant shoulders squared, her purse held in front of her like a talisman made him stand at attention.

  Wowza.

  He’d been seeing her around the lab for the past few weeks. Still hadn’t been introduced and he kind of wanted to be. He stepped forward and her eyes flew to his. A deep sea green surrounded by nubby brown lashes. He felt a punch in his gut and smiled.

  She blinked and he saw her hand tighten on the leather strap. “Are you Randolph Johnson?”

  And there was a god, cause this little piece of heaven was looking for him. “Why yes I am little lady but everyone calls me Flick, not Randolph, definitely note Randy, god forbid. Flick. Who might you be?”

  “My name is Mallory Weiss. I’m your new lab partner. My father wanted us working together on this new project of yours.”

  Like that his ardor cooled, Weiss. Daughter of Director Wiess, The boss’s daughter. It figured. He inclined his head and threw out his arms. “Welcome to my laboratory.” He said just like an evil scientist in their lair.

  Her face pinched and she tucked that hair that fascinated him back behind her ear. “Cute. Where can I put my stuff?”

  Flick bit back his instinctual answer of on my face and instead pointed to a small side room off to the left. He had to bite his tongue to keep from catcalling as she walked past, leaning away from him.

  Down boy. She was the boss’s daughter. And he’d heard all those sexual harrassment seminars. He knew better. No matter that she was the first thing that got his motor running in a long time. Plus, hadn’t he been saying relationships were not for him.

  He put his hands at his side like a good little boy and went back to watching the flames flicker. The fluid gradually boiled. He recorded the temperature and tried not to let his gaze shift to the door she’d just exited.

  Mallory’s breath wheezed out as soon as the door closed behind her. She held a hand to her stomach and stood with her back to the door. That was the famous Flick. He’d helped revolutionize some of the companies best products and was one of her dad’s prized engineers. Apparently, he knew it too.

  She’d expected the arrogant smile. Not what that smile would do to her. And that body. What was he doing in a lab coat? He had the body of a sword fighter. She could envision him with long hair in a puffy shirt, carrying a blade, fighting off pirates. Oh god, those smooth muscle flexing. The trim wheat colored hair and blue eyes. Woo. She fanned herself. This was what she got for reading romance novels all her life, a Fabio fetish and a rampaging imagination to boot.

  This was ridiculous. She was a professional. She tugged down her top and pinned up the stray curl that she could never seem to tame. She could do this. She walked to the locker in the corner and opened the closest one without a lock. She placed her purse on the ledge and draped her cardigan on the hook.

  A quick breath and she walked out into the lab. Three separate desks in front of air hoods marked the corners of the room and Flick stood bent over the furthest one watching a liquid boil over the Bunsen burner

  She shouldn’t look but he was bent over so perfectly. Her gaze caressed his tight ass framed by his lab coat, thick thighs flexing...oh shit.

  She yanked her gaze up when she realized he was looking over his shoulder and caught her ogling his ass. Hopefully he hadn’t realized what she was looking at.

  He winked and wiggled a bit. “See something you like sugar?”

  She could feel a flush stain her cheeks. Play innocent. “I don’t know what you mean? What am I looking
at here? Is this the serum.”

  He smiled and inclined his head, letting the matter drop. “Yes, this is my baby. PX 50. I am hoping to make a cleaner fuel. Something that will burn without the emissions we have now. More powerful, I need to get the mixture right. But I can’t get the needed burn without losing efficacy. It will burn quickly for a short period or burn weakly for a long period. No middle ground.”

  “Is the mixture pure?”

  Flick rolled his eyes. “No, this is actually my first day on the job. I didn’t think of that.”

  “No need to be grumpy.” She leaned closer. “What are you adding to extend the burn point?”

  “I keep tweaking the additives.”

  She held out a hand. “Well, give it to me.”

  He blinked and then his smile widened.

  Her cheeks burned again and she enunciated the words carefully and slowly so he coudn’t misunderstand . “Give me the formula and let me have a look at the chemical compound.”

  “It’s over there.” He indicated a nearby file then placed his face down close to the burner and watched the liquid burn.

  As she was reading, she could feel his gaze. When she looked up he wasn’t even trying to hide his interest. He had his chin on his hand and stared at her. “What?”

  “What are you doing here on a Friday night?”

  “I just moved into town.”

  “You ran the office in Chicago right?”

  “Yes,” she said tersely and tried to focus on the words but apparently his interest was peaked.

  “Why did you leave Chicago to come here in a subordinate position?”

  She cleared her throat. “Lets just say that I was ready for something new.”

  “Oh really...”

  She frowned at him and opened her mouth to blast him just as the doors slammed open. A delivery man in a natty brown uniform walked in carrying a truly massive bouquet of flowers that completely blocked his face.

  Flick grinned. “New to town and you already have an admirer. I’m going to have to move quick.”

  Mallory’s eye flew to his. “Probably my father.”

  The heat in his gaze scorched her. She nearly had to fan herself again. She walked over to take the flowers.

  The deliveryman held them out of her reach. “Are you Randolph Johnson?”

  “What?” She let out a laugh and said in a sing song voice over her shoulder. “They’re for you.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Who sent flowers to a dude unless it was for a funeral. Flick came over and grabbed the envelope off the flowers. The delivery man tried to hand him the bouquet but Flick inclined his head to Mallory.

  Mallory set the flowers down on the nearest desk and leaned over him as he open the note.

  “Thank you for everything.” The note said. No identifying marks, no name.

  Mallory leaned back and whistled. “For everything eh??”

  Flick frowned. She may be finding this funny but a chill just went down his spine. Lilies, like the ones he’d given to Bitty on their date a month ago. The recurring feeling he was being watched. This freaky idea that Bitty might be focused on him now. Maybe it wasn’t just in his head. Or, maybe he’d seen too much Criminal Minds.

  He tapped the note against his lip.

  Mallory put a hand on his shoulder. “You all right?”

  Flick jumped a little. “I’m fine, sorry. I have to go call someone. Make yourself comfortable.”

  Mallory’s brow raised. “Okay.”

  Flick ran into his office and closed the door. When he was alone, he pulled out his phone and his fingers hovered on the buttons. Who should he call? Or should he even call. The feelings he had weren’t proof but those flowers were weird.

  He pressed number one on his speed dial. Sara would know what to do.

  “Hello.” Sara answered. He heard Mina squeal in the background and Sara’s low laugh along with a male murmur. “Hello?” Sara said this time more tersely. He could practically hear her finger flex and get ready to end the call.

  “Hey Sara.”

  “Flick!” Sara voice got a lot more upbeat. “How are you doing? We haven’t heard from you for the past few weeks.”

  “I figured you guys needed some alone time what with the getting engaged and all.”

  “Yeah,” her voice softened and he heard smacking noises.

  “Dude, did you just kiss while on the phone with me?” He sat in the desk chair and put his feet on the edge of the desk

  “Yes.” Brae’s voice.

  His heart pinched. “Nice. What else do I get to hear?”

  “FLick.” Sara yelled. Brae’s laughter and a giggle from Mina not that she was in on the joke, Brae was probably tickling her. The sweet little angel. His love child with Sara about to be legitimized.

  “Sorry.” Not sorry. His feet fell. “Anyway. I was wondering if you heard anything about Bitty.”

  Sara’s voice hardened. “No. They took her into custody but Delilah is not talking and Bitty claims it was her dad that instigated the attacks in her name, in some noble attempt to take care of her. They had her under surveillance but after about two weeks that stopped. Budget cuts Bentley said. Joonie still has some people on her though.” He heard rustling and another Mina squeal. “You want to come over for dinner tonight?”

  They sounded so happy. His chest tightened and he put the phone against his chin. He didn't want to bring up bad memories and tell them his concerns. “Another time. You guys have fun. In fact, Why don’t we all plan for a cook out at my house, say this Sunday.”

  “You mean your parent’s place. Vicki’s apartment would be hard to have a cookout.”

  “Yeah, There. Geez, I’m not used to having my own place.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  He guessed she did, given she’d lived with her mother up until her engagement. “So anyway. Plan on Sunday at the parent’s house.” He swallowed hard. “By the way. Do you have Bentley’s number?”

  “The cop?” He could practically hear her coming to attention. He knew her that well. “Why do you want his number.” Her voiced dripped with suspicion.

  “I wanted to tell him something about the date I had with Bitty that I just remembered.”

  Sara seemed to accept that as she rattled off the numberer's readily enough after that. “What is it? Anything juicy?”

  Flick laughed. “You know me, if there were juicy details, you would have heard about them right away. Go have your dinner woman, Kiss Brae and Mina for me. Maybe pat Brae on the ass, give it a little squeeze...”

  “Flick!”

  Flick ended the call and put his phone back in his pocked, then he pulled out his lighter and started to open and close it.

  Flick, flick, flick.

  The lighter helped him concentrate. He might not smoke anymore but he loved his Zippo.

  Maybe he was overreacting. Just cause someone sent him flowers wasn’t anything bad. Bentley could find out who sent them though and that would reassure him if it was something innocuous. His work could have sent them for a job well done. He didn’t know.

  His feet hit the floor and his stomach eased. Yes. That could be it. Simple, direct. Nothing creepy. Sure, lately he felt like he was being watched. So what. He was cute. He knew it. Hell, he caught Mallory checking out his ass a second ago.

  He was sure this was all just random. But still his spidey senses were going off hard. He’d gotten another present last week but it was something he ordered off amazon all the time. Yes, it wasn’t on his orders but still, his friends knew his likes and dislikes. They knew he liked Old Spice especially after the commercials. They tickled his fancy. The card the other day with the same message. The phone calls to his phone without anyone talking.

  Deep breath in.

  The knock scared him enough he dropped his lighter.

  Stephanie walked in with the flowers. “You okay there?”

  He picked up his American flag Zippo. “I’m okay.” He wrinkled his
nose when he saw the flowers. “Why did you bring those in here.”

  “Their for you.”

  “You can have them..”

  Mallory shrugged. “Okay. They’re pretty.”

  “Daisies are my favorite.”

  “Mine too.”

  Another look. Another second. This sexual tension rocked and it was a welcome distraction.

  Flick found himself smiling and Mallory flushed. The pink skin was kind like a red flag to him. Most women now a days did not blush. He liked it.

  In face, he liked her.

  Mallory snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Randolph. Come in Randolph.”

  He blinked.

  “Really, are you okay.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Of course. And please. Call me Flick.”

  She could tell he was lying. He may be arrogant but she got the impression he was not a liar. Probably even a boy scout. So why did he seem so spooked. He kept flicking the lighter open and closed and worse, he wasn’t flirting. She liked the flirting.

  Something had to be up. The flowers that he didn't seem to want. The phone call, the preoccupation, the nervousness.

  It reminded her of why she left Chicago and all the trouble with her ex.

  His eyes still looked troubled and she curled her fingers to keep from putting a hand on his shoulder and reassuring him. That was not her. She was a hard ass. An ice queen. A loner.

  She cleared her throat. “Well, I just realized what time it was so I might take these flowers and the file and go.”

  He appeared stricken and glanced around the room before his face slid into a smile. “Let me walk you to the car. In fact, you’re right. Since you’re new in town.” He moved to her side. “Why don’t I take you to dinner?”

  She bit back her instinctual no at the look in his eyes. He didn't appear to be hitting on her. He genuinely seemed to want company. Or she was reading too much into it. His finger shook a bit. Again, something stirred. That same feeling she’d experienced when she’d seen the look on his face when he got the flowers. And well, he was hot. She could just imagine him in tight jeans on a motorcycle all tatted up straddling the bike looking at her over his shoulder... Damn it woman.