Setting Off Sparks (Jupiter Point Book 4)

by Jennifer Bernard

  “You think?” As she squeaked with surprise, he scooped her off her feet and, holding her in his arms, edged down the narrow walkway toward the back of the van. “Only one way to know for sure.”

  14

  Still dizzy from being swooped off the floor, Lisa clutched Finn’s chest as they made their way through the motorhome. They passed her tiny bathroom, her microscopic closet. And then her bed was pressing against the backs of her legs. He put her down and stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets. She shot a quick glance down at his crotch, where the bulge of his arousal made her giddy.

  “I thought you were here for a physical therapy session,” she teased, still catching her breath.

  He lifted his eyebrows. “I am. You said your bed was the best place. I’m being expeditious.”

  She flushed, wondering if she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. But the heat in his eyes told her otherwise. Not to mention the ridge in his pants.

  “Very efficient.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and got onto her knees. “Let’s get this show on the road, then. Come lie down.”

  He started to pull off his shirt but she stopped him. “Please leave it on.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s just easier for me, that’s why.” No need to spell it out that she found him impossibly attractive when shirtless. But of course, he knew exactly what she meant. He raised an eyebrow at her, but left his shirt alone. He stretched out on her bed with a sigh, then rolled onto his back and flung his arms to the sides.

  “This might be the best place in the entire world, right here.” He gazed up at the ceiling of the motorhome, with its swaths of deep blue silk scattered with silvery stars. “Did you install the stars before or after you came to Jupiter Point?”

  “Before, believe it or not.”

  She loved her bed any time of day or night, but Finn’s presence made it even more irresistible. He folded his arms behind his head, his biceps swelling from under his t-shirt. The fabric rode up on his torso and exposed the lower part of his abdomen. She caught a glimpse of bare skin and a swirl of dark hair before she dragged her gaze away. He was still looking at her starry motorhome sky.

  “So when you got here, you must have thought it was destiny,” he said. “Since this is the stargazing capital of the West Coast.”

  “You know how I feel about destiny.” She reached for the crate where she stored her oils and other medical supplies. After rifling through to find the mixture she’d put together for Finn, she scooted back over to him. He had rolled over onto his side, and was resting his head on his bent elbow, watching her with sensual heat in his dark eyes.

  “I have an idea. You’ve been working hard. How about you give me a turn with the oils?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Lie down.” He reached around her waist and tugged her to his side. She tumbled against him. The heat radiating from his body felt like the best spa treatment in the world. She instantly relaxed with a long sigh. He was right. She had worked hard at Molly’s.

  He nudged her legs and arms into position next to him, so she lay on her back, rag-doll style. He smoothed the hair away from her face. His deceptively gentle strokes made her eyes drift halfway shut. They might be light touches, but there was passion behind them. She felt it sparking between their bodies, ready to ignite and light up her tiny star-filled bedroom.

  Her body went languorous under his slow, deliberate caresses. He smoothed her hair across the pillow, then curved his hand into the soft space between her neck and her shoulder. Tingles followed wherever he made contact. She couldn’t see his expression, but the angle of his head spoke of complete focus. Complete attention. Complete absorption.

  One by one, her muscles relaxed. He stroked a finger down her upper arm to the crook of her elbow. The sensitive skin there jumped with awareness. Her fingers twitched and her palm fell open under the feathery glide of his hand.

  No one had touched her like this in so long. Ten months of being alone, on constant guard, watching over her shoulder. Maybe she’d forgotten the joy of simple physical contact.

  To her shock, a tear ran down her cheek. Why was she crying? She didn’t mind being alone. She liked being alone.

  Finn kissed the tear from her face and his warm lips made her heart tremble.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Yes. It’s just…it’s been an interesting few months, that’s all. It has nothing to do with you. I like you being here.”

  “I’m here for as long as you want. But I might have a hard time keeping my hands off you.” He interlaced his fingers with hers. The rough warmth of his palm pressed against hers felt so reassuring. To her complete dismay, another tear ran down her cheek and dripped onto his arm.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No. I’m not crying. I swear I’m not. This is some kind of bizarre physiological thing. Pretend it’s not happening.”

  “Sure. I can do that. I can also pretend I’m not kissing you under the stars.” Finn’s whisper tickled her ear. He kissed his way down her cheek, along her jaw, until he reached the corner of her mouth. “I swear I’m not.”

  A lightning bolt of lust streaked through her lower belly. She drew in a long, shaky breath of air that smelled like Finn. His skin held the faint trace of aftershave with some kind of citrus note, warm from the outdoors, with an overlay of the wildflowers he’d been carrying. She wanted to lick him, to nibble her way along the rough grain of stubble.

  But she ordered her muscles not to move, not to interrupt what he was doing, because it was magic.

  She kept perfectly still as he brushed his lips across hers. Sparks crackled between them. She touched her tongue to the surface of her own lower lip, tasting the trail of fire that followed every movement that he made. And then his tongue captured hers. The kiss went instantly to a deep place she’d never experienced before. It felt as if she were swimming down a fast-moving river, being tumbled around until she didn’t know what was up and what was down.

  She rolled toward him so they could press more closely against each other. His chest felt hard and solid against hers, his chiseled muscles radiating heat all the way through her clothes, into her skin. She wanted to rip off her own shirt, feel his flesh against hers. And still they were kissing, swept away in the current of lust drawing them deeper and deeper.

  His hands went under her shirt, fanning across her spine. She arched under his touch, lit up by the electric charge passing between them. She wriggled close to press against the hard bulge between his legs.

  He groaned deep in his chest. “I don’t know how long I can take this, Lisa.”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured with a gasp. “This feels so amazing. I don’t want to stop.”

  “Are you serious about that? Because I’ll go as far as you want to. But I’ll stop as soon as you say.”

  Stop? That sounded like the worst idea she’d ever heard. She shook her head, squirming as far into his arms as she could. He pressed his big hand into the notch between her shoulder blades. Her head fell back and he kissed her again. He sent her soaring into a world of wild heat. Need pounded through her veins.

  Her hands scrabbled against his shirt, trying to rip it off him. He helped her strip it away, then did the same to her shirt, and finally they were skin to skin. He ran one big hand across her ass, shaping it to her curves. An itchy restlessness seized her. She pushed her mound against his erection in urgent little movements. Heat built between them until it felt like fire. Sweat sprang to her face, hot air fanned against the back of her neck.

  She’d always thought the way people referred to sexual heat was more of a metaphor, or an exaggeration, but the interior of the motorhome really did feel hot. It even smelled like smoke…

  She froze in his arms and sniffed the air. Definitely smoke. She sat up so abruptly that her elbow knocked Finn in the chin. “Do you smell that?”

  Looking dazed, he sat up next to her and pushed hair out of his eyes.
“Smoke.” He shook his head to clear it, then pushed aside the curtain that covered the little window.

  Outside, she saw nothing but darkness. She blinked, completely confused. How had it already gotten to be night? The sun hadn’t even set when they’d arrived at the campground. Could the time really have passed that quickly?

  Then she saw that the darkness wasn’t black, it was a deep, swirling gray with flashes of orange.

  Finn was already flinging himself out of bed with a muttered, “Fuck.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the bed, then tossed her shirt at her. “Pull it on. How about a blanket too?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your van’s on fire. We have to get out of here.”

  She shook her head, still not understanding. Her brain didn’t seem to be operating right. How could her motorhome be on fire? She hadn’t even started it lately. “It only smoked once, when there was an oil leak. But I got it fixed.”

  “Lisa.” He gripped her by the shoulders. “Grab what you need. We’re leaving.”

  “What I need?” She looked around helplessly. “This is what I need. All of it. Everything I own is in here.”

  “Then choose what you need the most. Come on.”

  Her mind raced, thinking of her crate of medical supplies, her laptop, her grandmother’s book of recipes, the stuffed panda she’d grabbed on impulse on her way out of her Houston apartment. What else did she need? What else did she refuse to lose?

  When she still didn’t move, he plucked her off the bed. As he whisked her toward the front of the vehicle, she reached up and snagged the starry fabric that covered the motorhome’s ceiling. It came away with a ripping sound as the double-sided sticky tape gave way. As silly as it was, she wanted those stars.

  Her heart nearly stopped when they reached the front of the van and saw the flames leaping on all sides.

  “Someone did this,” Finn said grimly. “The fire’s on both sides. Someone torched it.”

  “What?”

  He set her on her feet, then grabbed his leather jacket from the driver’s seat of the van, where he’d tossed it when they came in. He wrapped the jacket around his right arm.

  “What are you doing?” She coughed as smoke filtered up from the floorboards.

  “We can’t go out either door. The flames are too thick there. I’m going to bust open a window.”

  “Be careful—” But he was already ramming his arm into the window. The entire motorhome shook with the force of his blow, but the window didn’t break. It took two more full-force punches before a crack appeared. Then a tremendous smashing sound hit her ears as the glass shattered. A hissing roar came in from outside. Was that the fire? Did fires really make that much noise?

  She clutched at her head. Nothing was making sense. Her brain was moving at the pace of a slug. In the ER, she’d always been coolheaded and calm, but this was different. This was her home.

  Finn used the jacket to knock out the jagged pieces of glass that remained, then spun back to her. He bundled the leather jacket around her and shepherded her to the window.

  “You’re going out first. You have to do exactly as I say. No hesitation. The motorhome isn’t safe.”

  He shot an uneasy glance toward the flames licking the other side of the vehicle. Although he didn’t say the words, she’d seen enough TV shows to know what he was thinking. If the flames hit the gas line the right way, or the propane tank that fed her fridge and cook stove, her motorhome would blow up.

  “As soon as you hit the ground, get away from here. Call nine-one-one. I’ll be right behind you.”

  She nodded. Finally her brain was clicking again. “There’s a flat metal box next to the sink. I need it.”

  “I’ll grab it. Ready?” He picked her up and maneuvered her feet-first out the window. “Don’t hold onto the edge, there’s still glass there. I got you, just trust me.” With his hands under her armpits, he lowered her toward the ground. Heat fanned from her left, where flames were jumping in an arc around the van. Finn’s steady grip felt like the only solid thing in the world. Her feet searched for the ground. She could touch her toes to it, but no more.

  “I’m going to drop you now, okay?” Finn called to her. The van wasn’t especially big, but it sounded as if he was shouting from far away. The din of the flames mingled with the roar in her ears.

  “Okay.” She hoped she sounded brave and strong, though she definitely didn’t feel that way. He released his grip and she dropped the last few inches to the ground. She stumbled, then got her balance and swung around to look back at Finn. He had disappeared back inside the motorhome. Smoke swirled in big gusts, blocking her vision. Through the far side window, she saw flames flickering in the thick gray billows.

  Finn reappeared with her purse. He tossed it toward her. “Run, Lisa. Please!”

  But she couldn’t. She bent down to pick up the purse, then stayed rooted right where she was. “Get out of there!” she shouted to him. “Right now!”

  He held up a finger, then disappeared back into the interior. The next time he appeared, he was carrying her portable safe. Tears surged into her eyes. That metal box held all her personal papers, birth certificate, passport, and maybe most importantly, some files she’d brought from the hospital to back up her suspicions.

  He leaned out the window and dropped the box on the ground. “Anything else?” he called.

  “No! Just get out!”

  He stuck his upper half out the window, then twisted so his back faced her. He reached up and gripped the ridge of steel that formed the upper rim of the window. With some kind of amazing combination of strength and flexibility, he maneuvered the rest of his body out the window. Then he hung in midair, muscles bulging, until he dropped like a cat onto the ground.

  “Come on!” Lisa screamed. Every nerve in her body was telling her to run, but she refused to move a step until Finn came too. She couldn’t abandon him. He bent to pick up the box, and in that moment, a finger of flame burst from the window above him. “Duck!” she shouted.

  He dropped to the ground, right on top of her box. He scooped it up and, staying low, scrambled across the grass toward her. As soon as he was a few yards away, he rose to his feet and ran. He grabbed her hand as he passed her. Hand in hand, they fled toward the woods.

  Then a percussive burst of sensation pushed against her back. She stumbled but Finn didn’t let her stop. A loud clap of noise made her look back.

  Sure enough, there was her motorhome—now a brilliant orange fireball setting off sparks in every direction. She screamed and nearly dropped to the ground. Finn wrapped his arms around her and spoke into her ear.

  “We have to keep moving. This whole forest could go up. We haven’t had rain in two weeks. We need to get out of here and call the fire department. Take this.”

  He shoved her portable safe into her hands, and then her feet were off the ground and he was carrying her past trees and branches, the smell of smoke chasing them through the woods. She buried her head in Finn’s chest so the branches didn’t slash her face. And because she just couldn’t bear to watch her last remaining possessions go up in flames.

  15

  Finn’s entire body was throbbing by the time the two of them got back to the road where they’d left their cars. He’d carried Lisa far enough into the woods that he felt sure they’d be safe, then the two of them had circled back around. Adrenaline still coursed through his system. What a terrifyingly close call that had been. If he hadn’t been there…he didn’t want to think about what could have happened.

  From the direction of her camping spot, he heard the voices of firefighters—casual enough to tell him the fire was out. The shadows of the pines were lengthening, darkness gathering in the woods. The air held a chill it hadn’t when he first drove up. It would be full night in less than an hour and Lisa had no home.

  Finn knew where she was staying tonight, even though she didn’t yet. She was going to stay with him.


  “I’m going to talk to the firefighters,” he told Lisa when they reached her Mercedes. “Want to wait here?”

  “No way. I want to hear what they say.”

  He nodded, glad she had her spunk back. Even though she still looked pale and her eyes were red from smoke and tears, she wasn’t about to collapse anymore. She unlocked her car and stashed her purse inside, along with the metal box and the fabric she’d grabbed from the ceiling. He’d seen that reaction before, fire victims who refused to let go of their one remaining tie to the home they’d lost.

  “Come on then.” Hand in hand, they approached her campsite. A Jupiter Point ladder truck and a paramedic van blocked the footpath to the smoldering hunk of metal beyond. He heard Lisa’s breath catch at the sight.

  A paramedic came jogging toward them.

  “You two okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Lisa said quickly. “But you should check Finn out. He’s limping.”

  Finn started to protest, but Lisa wrapped her arm around his and pulled him toward the van. “If you try to stop the nice man, I’ll kick you,” she whispered fiercely. “You carried me about half a mile.”

  “Fine.” He allowed the paramedic to check his vitals and drank down the electrolytes they offered him. Lisa stayed next to him the entire time, still holding his hand. He wondered if that was for him or for herself—but either way, he loved it.

  His heart ached for her. Who would do this? Was it a random attack or had someone targeted Lisa, and if so, why? Secrets were one thing, but this was dangerous.

  “What are they saying about what caused the fire?” he asked the paramedic.

  “Don’t know. The motorhome was pretty much toast by the time we got here.”

  Lisa winced at the EMT’s bluntness. Finn shot him a glare.

  He tugged Lisa closer and murmured into her ear. “I’m so damn sorry this happened.”

  She turned her face away, her dark hair swirling around her shoulders. Trying to hide her emotions, he guessed.