Scorchin' (The Hot Boys Series Book 2)

by Olivia Rush

  I took her hand in mine, the feeling sending chills down my spine right away. Ignoring just how turned on I was getting, I adjusted her fingers until they were holding the sticks properly.

  “This feels weird,” she said.

  “Of course it does,” I said. “You’ve been holding them like murder weapons up until now. Give them a try.”

  She reached across the table toward the ruby-red pieces of chicken, trying her best to pick one up. After a few tries, she finally got hold of a piece. Slowly, carefully, she brought it toward her, her mouth open wide in anticipation.

  But before she could pop the chicken into her mouth, it fell from the sticks and tumbled onto her lap, leaving a few red stains on her pants as it fell between her legs. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Oh, come on!” she exclaimed, tossing the sticks on the table. “I was trying, right?”

  “OK, fine,” I said. “You did your best, and you get props for that.”

  I then grabbed a piece of chicken and held it in front of her face.

  “Here,” I said. “I think you’ve earned this.”

  I was about to toss it into her open mouth, but Callie had other ideas. She brought her face to my fingers and, opening her mouth wide, bit down on the chicken. But she didn’t pull her mouth away right away—for a long moment, her lips lingered on my fingertips, our eyes locked in a heated stare. I could feel the sexual tension ramping up by the moment.

  Part of me wanted to knock everything off the table with a big sweep of my arm, pull her onto it, and give her a fucking that would make what we’d done the other night look like two teenagers fumbling in the back seat of their car. And the look in her eyes made it clear she wouldn’t have minded it one bit.

  Finally, both of us seemed to snap out of the spell. I bounced off the seat and went back to my spot across the table. Callie quickly wiped her lap off with a napkin and turned her attention back to the notes we had spread out on the table between us.

  “Anyway,” she said, picking up a pen.

  And that was how the last few days since Callie and I had agreed to work together had gone—hard work punctuated by moments of sexual tension that were getting harder and harder to ignore. We’d agreed to keep things platonic, but I was starting to seriously wonder how long the two of us were going to manage.

  “Anyway,” I added.

  “Right,” she said. “So, we were trying to figure out just how to determine which firm was going to be hit next.”

  On the table was spread a large map of the five boroughs, the firms that had been hit marked with a big red X.

  “They’re all in Brooklyn and Manhattan,” she said, her red hair hanging down both sides of her face as she looked down at the map.

  “Not many major firms in the Bronx, Staten, Queens,” I said. “Probably a safe bet to rule them out.”

  “Right,” she agreed. “And we can see that there’s a little bit of distance between all of the firms.”

  I stood up and looked down at the map.

  “Yeah,” I said. “They look purposefully spread out, as if someone’s trying to keep some distance between all of the targets.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “If these were just a matter of software malfunctioning or something, there’d be way more randomness to all of the fires. But this looks like the firms were all chosen intentionally.”

  I raised my finger for a moment as I pulled up the information on all the firms that had been hit.

  “And look at this,” I said. “All of the firms are about the same size in terms of staff—around twenty to thirty employees.”

  “Right,” said Callie. “And…let me take a look here…”

  Her fingers became a blur over the keyboard as she searched for the information she wanted.

  “And just like I thought, they’re all bringing in about the same amount of money every year.”

  I sat back in my chair and folded my hands behind my head.

  “So, these are all midsize firms, all earning the same amount of money, and all of them spread about evenly throughout the city.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “So, maybe if we can find a similar firm that’s about the same distance away from the other targets, we just might be able to find out some candidates for the next fire. Assuming there is one.”

  “If these are deliberate targets, then yeah, there’s gonna be another one. In my experience, criminals tend to keep at it until they get caught. Each time they get away with it is, to them, a vindication of just how brilliant they are. Which means these guys might get cocky—depends on how professional they are.”

  “You think it’s more than one guy?” she asked, placing her pen against her full, red, bottom lip.

  “I doubt that one guy is able to pull off jobs like this.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Let me take a look,” I said, getting out of my seat again.

  I made my way over to where Callie sat and leaned over her, my eyes on the computer. Once again, the scent of her hair and skin overwhelmed my senses for a long moment.

  I glanced over her notes, comparing them to the map. But as much as I wanted to keep myself focused, all I could pay attention to was Callie’s face out of the corner of my eye. My eyes moved over the outline of her pert, upturned nose, then down to her pillowy lips, wet and kissable.

  “You OK over there?” she asked.

  She turned her head, and now the two of us were facing one another. We were inches apart, so close that the heat from her body was palpable on my skin. Her blue eyes stayed on mine, and her lips spread open just a bit. Just like before, the sexual tension was building by the second, and I found myself wondering if this was going to be the time she and I finally gave in…

  The sound of the front door opening sent me jumping back a good foot or two.

  “Hey!” shouted Jason, his voice cutting through the quiet air.

  That was all it took for the two of us to come back to our senses. I awkwardly leaned back against the kitchen bar, and Callie tucked her hair behind her ear and looked around and did all the other usual things people did when they were caught in the middle of something.

  “What’s up, dude?” I asked, watching Jason hang up his bag and take off his coat.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “You have fun over at Aiden’s?” I asked, hoping that talking would waft the remaining sexual tension out of the air.

  “It was all right,” he said. “His mom made lasagna.”

  Jason looked at me, then Callie, then me again.

  “Were you guys telling each other secrets?” he asked.

  “What?” stammered Callie. “No way! I mean, what are you talking about?”

  “You two were really close,” he said. “You looked like you were saying things you didn’t want anyone else to hear.”

  So much for ignoring what had almost happened.

  “We were, um, just working on our project,” I said. “Callie was showing me some stuff she’d just found out.”

  “Oh,” said Jason, his tone suggesting that he wasn’t all that interested to begin with.

  “Speaking of our little project,” said Callie as she gathered her things and stuffed them into her bag, “I think we’ve gotten enough done for one day.”

  “I think you’re right,” I said.

  “Do you want to stay and play Fortnite?” asked Jason. “I have to go to bed soon but Dad will probably let us play a little.”

  “Maybe next time, kiddo,” said Callie as she tucked her laptop away. “I’ve gotta go home and get some sleep. Lots of work tomorrow.”

  “OK,” he said, a little disappointment in his voice.

  Callie then stepped over to me. It was clear she really didn’t know what to do with herself.

  “Um, good working with you,” she said. “We’ll talk more later.”

  Then she leaned and gave me one of those awkward hugs with the ass stuck all the way out, the kind you giv
e to someone you’re not really sure how to touch.

  “Go team,” I said, flashing her a smile.

  She gave me one more awkward grin before turning around and heading out.

  Once she was gone, I let out a huge rush of air. Goddamn, was this getting complicated.

  Jason pulled out one of the chairs at the table and hungrily eyed the leftover Chinese food.

  “Can I have some?” he asked, pointing with a stubby finger toward an egg roll.

  “Didn’t you just say you had lasagna?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but it was the gross kind with the fake cheese and pasta without gloobin.”

  “Gluten,” I said. “And yeah, that sounds pretty gross. Let me get you a plate before you start digging in there, wild man.”

  Jason licked his lips as I got him a plate, a glass of water, and some utensils. I scooped a little of everything onto the plate and set it down in front of him. Jason dug in right away, the food disappearing by the second.

  “Next time I send you over to Aiden’s, I’m gonna stick some beef jerky in your bag or something. Vegan food just isn’t suitable for growing young men, you know?”

  “It’s gross,” said Jason, dunking his egg roll into a small pool of duck sauce.

  He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed, then turned his attention back to me.

  “Are you and Miss Callie dating?”

  My eyebrows jumped up a bit at just how blunt the question was. That’s kids for you.

  “No!” I said, putting way more emphasis on the word than I should have. “I mean, we’re just friends. And we’re working together on something important, remember?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But you and her look like Aiden’s mom and her new boyfriend. Except she sits on his lap a lot more. It’s gross.”

  “We’re not doing any of that,” I said. “We’re just friends.”

  Jason didn’t say anything, instead shoving down another bit of his egg roll.

  “What do you think of Miss Callie?” I asked. “I mean, since she and I are becoming such good friends.”

  “I like her,” she said. “She’s really smart. And she’s pretty.”

  I nodded at this assessment. “She’s certainly both of those things,” I said.

  I plopped down in the chair next to Jason and watched him eat. I shook my head at how I was handling this situation in regard to Jason. After all, he was a big reason why I’d made the decision to put my player days behind me.

  The endless procession of girls I was bringing back to the apartment confused the hell of out the poor kid, and when he accidentally called some Tinder date, “Mom,” I knew that I needed to make some changes. And as a single dad, it was even more important that I set a good example for the little guy. He needed to know how important it was to respect women—bringing them over for a date or two and sending them off, never to be seen again, didn’t really seem like the best way to drive that message home.

  I picked up a stray piece of chicken and popped it in my mouth, chewing it as I considered just what was going on between Callie and me. All I could hope was that I’d be able to keep a handle on it, and my feelings—whatever they were.

  16

  STONE

  Callie opened the door to my apartment full of purpose.

  “I think I’ve got it,” she said, her eyes so wide she looked like a mad scientist who’d just made a breakthrough.

  Jason and I were seated at the dining room table, two calzones in front of us. I chewed slowly as I regarded Callie, the drone of the cartoons on the TV a din in the air.

  “Um, welcome to the apartment,” I said. “Make yourself comfy.”

  She crinkled her eyebrows.

  “Did you not get my text?” she asked. “I told you that I had something really important to talk about with you, about the, um, project.”

  “Oh, I got it,” I said, dunking a piece of my crust into a side of marinara and tossing it into my mouth. “I just didn’t expect you to burst into the place with such enthusiasm.”

  “Hi, Miss Callie,” said Jason, waving his little hand. “We’re eating pizza.”

  “They’re calzones, little dude,” I corrected.

  “What’s the difference?” he asked. “They have cheese and sauce.”

  “It’s like a pizza folded in half, really.”

  She stood there for a few minutes, watching the two of us have our back and forth about the subtle distinctions between various Italian foods. “Ahem,” she said, clearing her throat.

  We turned our attention back to her.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and watch your show,” I said, putting my hand on Jason’s back. “Miss Callie’s got some stuff to talk about with me.”

  “OK,” said Jason, taking a big bite out of his calzone and chewing it happily.

  I nodded toward the kitchen bar. Callie didn’t waste any time, hurrying over and getting her laptop set up.

  “OK,” she said. “So, you know how we said we needed to find the similarities among all of the firms that had been hit and try to figure out where the next one was going to be?”

  “I do remember that,” I said. “What you got?”

  “OK,” she said. “So, I was spending most of today, and last night, and the entire day before going over all of the financial firms in Manhattan and Brooklyn, trying to figure out which one fit the bill. I accounted for company size, annual profits, location—all that good stuff.”

  I leaned in close as she spoke, the nearness of her body causing my heart to race.

  “So, that narrowed it down to about three companies in the Brooklyn area. These three.”

  She turned the computer toward me, letting me look over the names of the companies. I nodded in understanding.

  “That’s three companies,” she said, “which is pretty good. But we’re not the NYPD—we’ve only got so much manpower, right? We’re gonna need to do better than that. Then, that’s when it hit me, what you said about the sprinkler systems. So, I looked into that and found out that all of the companies that’ve been hit used the same fire control company—Cryosense Solutions.”

  Callie had somehow moved really close to me during this conversation, and I couldn’t tell if it was because she was extra, extra excited, or if it was because another wave of sexual tension was building between us.

  “So, I gave them a call today, telling them that I was looking to change my server fire-protection system. I said that I wanted to ask some other company that used them and see what they had to say about their services. I told them where my ‘company’ was, and sure as shit they gave me the name of one of the three companies. This one right here—Brass-Winthrop Financial Services.”

  I crossed my arms and let her go on. Needless to say, I was totally impressed.

  “Now, what I’m thinking is that you and I can check the place out.”

  “‘Check the place out’?” I asked. “I hope you’re not thinking any Mission Impossible stuff.”

  “No,” she said. “No sneaking into the place in the middle of the night dressed all in black.”

  “Too bad,” I said. “I think you could pull off the skintight catsuit look.”

  She flashed me a look that suggested she was flattered and a little surprised all at once. “As enticing as that sounds, what I’ve got in mind is more you and me just swinging by the place during business hours and seeing what we can find out.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You think we can just stroll in and start asking questions?”

  “I mean, we’ll have to play it cool and all that, maybe fudge the truth just a little bit, you know?”

  “Depends on what you mean by ‘fudging the truth.’”

  “I mean, between you being a member of the FDNY and me being a journalist, I don’t think it’ll be too hard to find some excuse for getting in there. I mean, we’re both reasonably smart people, right? And besides, I have my, ahem, womanly ways.”

  She winked and tossed her hair to the side in such an over-th
e-top impression of a femme fatale that I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What?” she asked, jabbing me in the arm.

  I looked over all of the information Callie had put together and was beyond impressed. She’d really busted her ass.

  “So, big man?” she asked. “Thoughts?”

  “I’m thinking you’ve put a shitload of work into all of this,” I said, taking a quick glance off to the side to make sure Jason hadn’t heard my swear, “and that you need a break.”

  “A break?” she asked. “Don’t you want to, you know, finalize everything? Make sure our plan is all set up?”

  “What I want is to a have a little time to take all of this in. And I can tell that you’re running on very little sleep, so I’m using my incredible city employee power to demand that you chill out and have a glass of wine with me to celebrate your hard work.”

  She looked for a brief moment like she wanted to object, but I could see that the idea of some wine and relaxing was working its spell on her.

  “Come on,” I said, hopping out of my seat. “I’ll put the kid to bed, and you can pick out some wine.”

  “OK,” she said. “But only one glass. There’s still some stuff in my notes I want to go over.”

  “Sure, sure, Ms. Type A.”

  I started toward Jason’s bedroom.

  “Come on, champ,” I said, mussing his hair as I passed him. “Time to hit it.”

  “Aw, man,” he said. “Can I—”

  “Nope,” I said. “Bedtime’s bedtime.”

  “Fiiine,” he said, hopping off the couch. “What’s Miss Callie going to do? Are you guys gonna have a sleepover?”

  My and Callie’s eyes locked onto one another’s, both of us wearing the same shocked expression.

  “Uh, no,” I said. “Callie and I are going to drink some grown-up juice, and then she’ll be going back to her place.”

  “Oh, OK,” he said. “Miss Callie should stay for a sleepover sometime—they’re fun!”

  “Night, kiddo!” called out Callie, clearly still in shock from the question.

  I got Jason ready for bed, and when I was done tucking him in, I wondered if it would be so bad if I did have Callie stay for a “sleepover.”