Running her thumb across his cheek, she brought his attention back to her. “You hear sirens all the time.”
After a slow breath, he shrugged. “Don’t wake up to sirens. I’m fine, promise.” His hands curled around her ribs. “Now tell me what’s going on. Please.”
“My brother is in the hospital.”
That fast, Metcalf was back to himself. Concern etched his brow. “Which brother?”
“Enrique. There was an accident. I need to get there to find out.” She turned to find her clothes, afraid of his reaction. “Look, last night was exactly what I needed. I’ll see you around.” She put her bra on, then the dress. The thong was destroyed, which made her smile.
His voice was a rasp as he moved closer. “Wait, Marissa, want company?”
She shook her head, slipping her shoes on. “Isandro will give us hell if he finds out.”
“Why?”
She ducked her gaze. “Either because I’m fucking with your emotions, or because you may hurt his sister. This wasn’t either. Thing is, it’s none of his business.”
He caught her chin and pulled until her eyes latched onto his. “This wasn’t a one-night stand.”
Her breath caught. She hadn’t expected that. Last night they’d been drunk, said things they probably shouldn’t have. Yet, there he was, looking completely sober, if a little shaken, telling her exactly what she wanted to hear.
She finally found her voice. “Didn’t say it was.” But she didn’t dare to hope he truly meant it. In the morning, he may change his mind. “Look, for now, it’s best if we keep it to ourselves. That way, if we don’t work, I’m not standing between you and my brother. You have to work with him. Remember?”
He wound his arms around her, pulling her close. “Don’t give a damn what he thinks. Only you. Don’t push me away because your brother might open his mouth.”
Blinking, she pulled out of his arms. Was she pushing him away? Maybe.
Shit, it was easier than facing her feelings.
She reached for a flimsy defense. “Not tonight. Not like this.”
“Fine, but this isn’t over.” He threaded his fingers into her hair and drew her closer.
She melted against him, wishing she didn’t have to bail. Marissa took the sweetest kiss before stepping back. “I have to go.”
“Tomorrow?”
“We’ll see. Depends on how Enrique is and if I’m taking care of him or not. I’ll call.”
“Go. Let me know how he is when you get a chance.”
“Dave, thank you for tonight.” She pulled away and left him standing in his room before he could say something to stop her. If this lasted, she’d tell her brother, if not, he didn’t need to know.
The trip across the apartment lot and the bar’s parking lot left her feeling vulnerable. Too often she wished she hadn’t pushed Metcalf away.
Once buckled, Marissa put her headset on and dialed Isandro. It rang several times as she fired up her car and drove out of the lot.
He finally answered with a yawn. “What?”
“Enrique’s in the hospital. I’m guessing you don’t know yet.”
“On my way.” He hung up.
Next, she dialed Enrique’s twin, Estevan. He answered immediately. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Enrique’s in the hospital. I’m on my way now.”
“I’ll be there. Drive safe.”
She rolled her eyes and pulled into the hospital parking lot. The lady at the front desk greeted her and sent her back to Enrique’s room.
Her little brother’s face was black and blue, a contusion on his forehead. And he was out.
Dr. Blake looked up with a nod. “Morning, Marissa.”
“Hey, what happened?”
“Paramedics said someone found him half in the street in front of Barnes Hardware. I didn’t get a name, but Officers Bridges and Sloan were out there. I’m sure they’ll be here later.”
She held back a groan. Bridges had been a pain in the ass since she’d hooked up with Isandro three years before. That lasted all of a month before he got tired of her constant drama. Then Marissa and her partner made detective and Bridges’ attitude took a nosedive. She’d been a constant pain since.
“And how is he?”
“His knee is sprained at least. He has a knot on his head. I need to run tests to give you a better diagnosis. He’s not making a lot of sense when he’s awake. I won’t know for sure until we get the tests, which should be soon.”
Enrique was a nurse on the fourth floor. She didn’t see his car out front, and she knew he got off a couple hours before. “Where the hell is his car?”
Dr. Blake gave her a curious look. “Sorry, you’ll have to ask him, or the police when they get back.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll be back. Need to see when I can get him into the CT scan and MRI.” He left.
Sighing, she took her brother’s hand. His eyes fluttered open as his lips quirked. “You look pretty.”
Her brow pinched. “How are you doing?”
Enrique shifted his leg and flinched. “That hurts.”
“And your head?”
He nodded slightly.
“What happened?”
He shrugged. “Car broke down. It was late. I walked home.” He scratched his head. “Then I don’t know, I woke up here.”
“What did the doctor tell you?”
His face scrunched up. “Don’t remember. But why the dress? Who were you with?”
She groaned. “Never mind that.” She’d gone to dinner with some friends, then went out to drink alone. They all had men to go home to. She hadn’t planned on running into Dave, but something drew her to him the same way it did in the past.
Isandro came through the door. “What happened?”
“Don’t know,” Enrique answered.
Isandro stepped up to the bed, gave her a long hard look, then turned back to their brother. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
Marissa shook her head. “Says his car broke down. He was walking home. Woke up here.”
He frowned. “And we don’t know what happened?”
“Not yet. Bridges should be here later to question him.”
“Fucking hell,” Isandro muttered.
Enrique chimed in with, “Marissa’s pretty, isn’t she? Wonder who she hooked up with.”
Marissa winced. “Don’t be a dick.”
Enrique snorted. “You don’t dress up without a reason. Who is he?”
“Kid’s got a point,” Isandro agreed. “Who mussed up your hair?”
“Shit, I went out with the girls, then had a few drinks before going home.”
“Whose house because you sure as hell didn’t go home?” Isandro demanded. Bastard lived next door to her, but he didn’t use to watch her comings and goings so closely in the past.
“Yeah, who?” Enrique parroted with amusement in his tone.
“None of your damned business,” she answered.
“I will find out. I always do,” Isandro challenged. “May as well tell me now.”
She glared up at him. “There are much more important things to worry about. Like finding out what happened to Enrique. Someone hit him with a car and left.”
“A car? Feels like it,” Enrique answered.
She groaned.
“Marissa’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“What the…” Isandro trailed off, looking back at her. His brow arched. “Must have hit his head good.”
The door opened, and a nurse came in. “Time to take you for X-rays and a CT scan. MRI will have to wait until the morning. You two should wait in the waiting room. Dr. Blake will come get you.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Marissa walked past everyone and hurried to the lobby.
Isandro’s fiancée sat in a seat. As soon as she spotted Marissa, Arianna stood up and crossed the distance. “How is he?”
She shrugged. “Banged up, but he’ll be okay. We don’t have any answers yet.”
Isandro wal
ked out and took a stance next to Arianna. He looked Marissa dead in the eye and asked, “Who did you go home with?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Why won’t you talk to me?”
Marissa crossed her arms over her chest. “I am not discussing my sex life with you.”
Officers Bridges and Sloan walked over. Joanne Bridges smirked. “Hot date, Cortez?”
Marissa stared back. “What do you know?”
“About where you’ve been? I’d say someone’s bed.”
Her jaw clenched. “No. I mean what do you know about Enrique?”
“Someone broke into Barnes Hardware. Stole a slew of random items. Witness says the robber left in a white van and hit your brother while leaving the parking lot. Video backs that up. No license plates.”
“What did they steal?” Marissa asked.
Bridges rattled off, “Paint thinner, kerosene, gasoline, batting, drills, rope. Other stuff.”
“Sounds like someone’s planning a fire,” Marissa said. “There had been a similar robbery four years before, just days before a slew of arsons.”
Sloan shook his head. “Unlikely. Our firebug died in the last fire.”
Marissa didn’t bother to argue. Instead she asked, “Who was the witness?”
A smirk pulled at Bridges’ lips. “Chelsea Bauer. She was leaving her fiancé’s house.”
She didn’t flinch. Marissa kept going. “Any idea where the van went?”
“Not yet,” Sloan answered. “Though from the exterior camera, we saw the van hit Enrique. He went down. The driver pulled away. We have an APB out, but this time of night? There’s no telling if we’ll find out where it went. We can hope someone spots the vehicle later.”
Marissa asked, “Did the video show their face?”
“No. Bulky sweats. Hood, hat down low. Couldn’t make much out.”
Isandro fisted his hands. “And nothing you can do?”
Bridges glanced at Isandro and back. She shook her head. “We’re doing what we can. Hopefully Mr. Barnes will get back to me with something more solid, but he needs to take inventory.”
“If you need help, let me know,” Marissa said.
Bridges looked at Sloan.
He shook his head. “Better if you don’t get involved in this particular case since your brother was a victim. Don’t worry, we’ll do everything we can to find the driver. How is he?”
Marissa shook her head. “Disoriented. His leg and head hurts. No diagnosis yet. They took him back for the CT scan and X-ray.”
Sloan tipped his head to Marissa. “Luckily, they weren’t going fast when they hit him. It could have been a lot worse.”
“Yeah,” she answered.
Doctor Blake came out and nodded to the doors. “Bridges, Sloan, you here for Enrique?”
“Yes, we are,” Bridges answered.
“Go on back,” Dr. Blake replied.
As soon as the two officers left, Dr. Blake explained, “His knee isn’t broken, so I suspect a sprain. We’ll make sure later this morning when the MRI tech is in. He’s having the CT scan now. You can go back when they’re done.”
“Thank you,” Marissa answered.
He slipped beyond the door.
“He was awake?” Arianna asked.
“Yeah, and he was on repeat,” Marissa answered.
“What do you mean?”
Isandro came over. “Kept asking why she was dressed up and who she went home with.” He raised a single brow at her. “Tell me it wasn’t one of your exes?”
“Doesn’t matter who I went home with, but no, none of my exes.”
Metcalf had been a fling, not a real relationship. Though it could have been so much more if she’d given him a real chance.
Isandro fixed her with a glare. “Tell me it’s not Mitch.” He was on the other fire crew that worked the same shift as Isandro. And he’d tried to hook up with her, but he was too much of an asshole.
She snorted. “I’m not desperate.”
Arianna took a look at her hair. “Yeah, but you have thoroughly-fucked hair. That’s not just bed head, it’s full-on sexy-time messy.” She pointed at her own hair. “Trust me, I know.”
Marissa’s gaze swung to Arianna. “You aren’t helping.”
Arianna’s eyes sparkled. “Sorry, but you definitely got some. Spill.”
She shook her head. “Oh my God, no. Not sharing.”
Isandro’s jaw flexed. “I’ll find out sooner or later.”
She wanted to slap him silly. The moment he asked Arianna to move in with him, he started sniffing around her business. Now that the bastard was settled, he had it in his head she needed to be. Normally, she’d tell him and he’d back off. But this time—if things didn’t work out, she didn’t want to hurt their friendship.
Estevan came through the doors and hurried over. “Tell me everyone being out here is a good thing.”
Isandro shook his head and told him everything they knew.
Marissa took a seat, and Arianna joined her with a yawn.
“You could tell me,” Arianna prodded.
“Nope, you’d only tell Isandro.”
“You’re no fun.”
“I’m not a sharer.”
Her brothers joined them, and Marissa avoided any questions about her night.
Thirty minutes later Dr. Blake came out, not the cops. He sat down. “Enrique has a slight brain bleed. I expect it to resolve itself overnight. The concussion will take a little longer. And of course, his knee. However, I do expect him to make a full recovery. If he’s doing well tomorrow, I’ll let one of you take him home.”
“That’s a relief. How bad are they hounding him?” Marissa asked.
The doctor laughed. “Bridges is getting frustrated. Enrique keeps asking about your dress.”
“She never had much patience,” Isandro muttered.
Arianna giggled. “Was that the problem?”
Marissa rolled her eyes.
Bridges and Sloan walked over.
“Who’s going back?” Doctor Blake asked.
“Me.” Marissa started for the door. “Come on, Estevan.”
Chapter 3
The next morning, Metcalf stalked through the firehouse, looking for Isandro. Marissa never called. He was willing to cut her some slack because her brother was in the hospital. But he wasn’t letting her go so easily. Last night had dumped the two of them back into the past.
He wanted that past, before Jeanette had ruined everything. Marissa knew Jeanette asked for the separation and the divorce. But they were at a party, and Marissa saw Jeanette in tears, talking to him. That was all it took for Marissa to walk away and shut him out.
Hindsight was a bitch. He knew better than to take Jeanette back, but after months of chasing Marissa and getting nowhere, he decided to try with Jeanette for their son. And that had worked out so damned well.
Last night had proved they still shared the same chemistry, and something more. She hadn’t looked at him like he was broken. She may have been concerned, but even worried about her brother, she’d stopped to make sure he was okay.
Now he needed to figure out why the hell she continued to push him away. Was it her short-lived marriage to Carson? Her fucked up parents? Some other asswipe in her past?
He wasn’t sure, but he planned to find out so he could prove her fears wrong. And he planned to take his time—to make sure she was on the same page. He wasn’t claiming love, wasn’t promising forever, but he wanted to explore what they shared because it was better than anything he’d ever had with Jeanette.
Staring out the window, he thought about contacting Marissa, but he needed his thoughts in order so he could make sure she listened.
In the meantime, he would ask Isandro about Enrique, because he was worried about him. And for whatever reason, Marissa didn’t want Isandro to know about what had happened.
Fine, he’d play by her rules for the time being. Though staying home when she rushed off to her family made
him feel like an ass. And Isandro did have a temper when it came to people messing with his friends or family. But they were friends, and Metcalf had no intention of hurting Marissa.
Isandro stormed into the building, looking at his phone with a scowl. He dropped into a seat and scrubbed a hand through his hair.
Thank God he was there. Metcalf sat across from him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Little brother was hit by some asshole. Knocked his head around good. He kept asking the same damned question.”
Isandro offering information was a relief. If Metcalf pried too far, he might tip him off.
“Hit how?”
“With a van. Asshole robbed the hardware store.”
“And he’s okay?”
Isandro snorted. “He will be. Has to be in a brace for a few weeks. And he was fixated on one thing. Kept asking the same question.”
Metcalf’s brow arched. “What was that?”
His lip curled. “Why my sister was all dressed up and her hair a mess.”
“She answer?”
Isandro studied him a moment. “No. Why?”
He shrugged. “Did they send Enrique home?”
Isandro’s head tipped, then he shrugged. “Not yet, but Estevan has him covered. The doctor was talking about discharging him before I left to come here.”
“Glad he’s all right.
“Me too. Everything okay with you? You were down yesterday. And I know why.”
“Things are looking up. Ran into an old friend and they put things into perspective.”
Isandro slapped him on the back. “Good to hear.”
Gavin came in, met his gaze, and nodded to the hall.
“Excuse me.” Metcalf hopped up and followed Gavin outside. “What’s up?”
“You took Marissa home?”
Dave froze, his eyes widening slightly.
Bastard chuckled. “And you’re not telling Isandro?”
He shook his head.
“Can I ask why?”
“She doesn’t want him to know. I plan to change that, but I need time to convince her last night was the start of something, not a one-night stand.”
“Wait, I thought Marissa was just a fling.”
“Didn’t want it to be. I was ready to finalize the damned divorce.”
“Marissa’s the reason you almost didn’t take Jeanette back?”
Backburn Page 3