Chapter 15

Kristi took a sip of beer and leaned back in her chair. She was seated at one of the big round tables at McNally's with several of the guys from her shift plus Patrick, Keith, and two other cops from their precinct. The topic, as it had been for the past few nights, was the rash of fires in their area.

"Dan Varney's all over this one," Brad Hawkins said.

Kenny MacMillan, another firefighter from her shift, nodded.

"He's one of the best arson investigators in the entire Dallas Fire-Rescue organization. If there's anything to be found, he'll be the one to find it."

"He said he's going to have someone taking pictures from now on. He doesn't think this guy is finished at all." Brad shook his head. "Incendiary fires scare all of us. They're all bad, but I've got a feeling this guy is setting them for more than just the thrill. Don't ask me why, I just have that sense."

Patrick had his arm draped casually across Kristi's shoulders. Now he tightened it and pulled her closer to him.

"You damn well better be extra careful," he whispered.

On the other side of him, Kristi saw Keith lift an eyebrow, a silent question as he glanced from one of them to the other. They hadn't exactly been obvious about their situation-Kristi was still fighting her uncertainties and the remains of a bad relationship-but they hadn't done anything to hide it, either. They had been together every night since that first one. The sex just kept getting hotter and the connection between them so intense it scared the shit out of her.

She was very careful not to let Patrick catch a sense of it, but she was caught between the growing strength of their connection and the residual fear from the past she couldn't quite get rid of. He hadn't done one single thing to make her uncomfortable or uncertain or devalued. Actually, he went out of his way for the opposite. But the past still had such a stranglehold on her, she didn't know what to do.

Tonight, he'd seemed more intent on touching her, keeping his arm around her, keeping her close to him. It was as if he was sending signals to her as well as to others- She's mine. She belongs with me.

With him, not to him. There was a big difference.

This is going to be different. Try to believe in that.

And then, of course, there was the incident of the flowers. She hadn't told Patrick about them, and she wasn't sure exactly why. At first she'd thought they were from him, but then realized he would have signed the note. Secrecy wasn't his style. She'd thought about asking her neighbors but felt uncomfortable doing that. Finally, she just trashed them, vase and all. If it was a mistake, she'd apologize to whoever later on.

A tiny thought jumped into her brain. Could it have anything to do with the fires? But why would she even think that? The person setting these fires was, as with most arsonists, getting his emotional and sexual gratification from the arson itself. No one she knew would do anything like that. There hadn't been anything since then, so she'd just chalked it up to a mistake and let it go at that.

She'd rather focus on Patrick and what was happening between them. He'd been staying at her house since that first night. The night he'd brought dinner it had just seemed natural for him to stay. Little by little, his clothing and other personal items had migrated to her bedroom and bathroom. She liked the feeling it gave her. And she loved the feeling he gave her. She couldn't help smiling as she thought about their hot nights in bed.

But, every so often, she'd find herself second-guessing the situation. Was she jumping in too soon? Getting in too deep? Over her head? Would it start out great and end up a disaster like-

No! She would not let herself go there. She should allow herself to enjoy what was happening between them for now.

Patrick leaned close to her again and whispered in her ear. "Deep thoughts, sugar. I hope they're about me."

She noticed Keith watching them again, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-grin.

"People are watching," she whispered back.

"Fine by me." He stroked his fingers against her cheek then loosened his hold on her. "But we'll get back to this later."

"Don't you think so, Kristi?"

She blinked, suddenly aware that Stan Roberts had asked her a question.

"I'm sorry. What?"

He grinned at her. "I have to say, it's nice seeing you with someone. But you'd better let us know if he doesn't take good care of you."

"Oh, we're not-" she began.

"No worries there," Patrick said at the same time.

Laughter circled the table, but she knew it was a friendly sound, not as if they were trying to embarrass her. She couldn't believe how well things were going for the two of them. She just hoped-no, she prayed-she didn't do anything to screw it up. She had to stop questioning everything and expecting the worst. This was all good. So good. She wanted this thing with Patrick to be real. Wanted it more than she'd wanted anything in a long time. They were so good together, in and out of bed. Maybe, this time, she'd finally gotten lucky.

"So, what were you saying, Stan?"

The smile disappeared from his face. "I was saying we all need to be extra alert. My gut is telling me this nut job is far from being finished. Besides the photographer Dan's setting up, we should get whoever also to take crowd shots. And that rule about only going into the building in pairs needs to be hard and fast."

Kole nodded. "Damn straight. The methodical way these were set, the extra"-he paused, looked around then lowered his voice almost to a whisper-"the timer? This is no casual firebug."

The discussion seemed to have dropped a wet blanket over the table. People finished their drinks and began calling for their checks.

"You have one more Kelly Day left, right?" Patrick asked.

"Yes."

He squeezed her hand, and when she looked at him, he curved his lips in a warm smile. "Then let's go home and make the most of it. Forget for a little while about this lunatic out there."

It occurred to her, out of nowhere, that every time they were together, Patrick had been totally focused on her, on satisfying her, on giving her pleasure. How selfish of her. She'd just been reveling in the novelty of it, but it was time to make a change. Tonight, she would focus on him. On his needs. His desires. She wanted to get started on that right away. She could hardly wait to get back to her place.

"Yes," she agreed. "Let's do it. Right now."

They had just reached his car when Stan came up behind them and tapped Patrick on the shoulder.

"Take good care of her, buddy."

"Count on it," he told the man. "One hundred percent."

As they pulled away from the parking lot, Patrick reached for her hand again. Just his touch lit all her fuses. Tonight, she wanted to be wild with him, to let down all the barriers. She would shut her brain down and let her body take over. He was always so focused on her. Tonight, she'd take care of him. She couldn't wait to get home and get them both naked. To do everything and anything they could possibly imagine.

"Tonight, we're going to pretend no one exists but us. That work for you?"

"Most definitely." And it did. It really did. "But hurry. Okay?"