On Fire(13)

“I’m working him around to thinking more along those lines. At least considering them.”

“He lets you get a word in edgewise? You’re a miracle worker.” He deseeded a bell pepper, then chopped it quickly into small squares.

“He’s not that bad,” Trish said. “His only experience with federal law enforcement wasn’t a good one.”

“About that.” He worked on an onion next. “I’d like the name and contact information of whoever was the primary on that case.”

“You going to thank him or her for making our job so much easier?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” Using the knife, he scraped half the vegetables into a heated skillet. “It might be worth it to see if anyone in Lion’s Bay rubbed the Feds the wrong way. Aside from Sheriff Congeniality.”

“What time are you coming into the station tomorrow?”

“Not sure. I want to check out the other two locations in the morning. Why?”

“Wouldn’t want Miller to be out and miss you.”

Gripping the handle of the skillet, he jerked the pan to flip the sizzling vegetables. “I’ve requested courier manifests going back six months. While it’d be stupidly obvious to ship hazardous materials in and leave that trail—”

“We don’t want to be the ones who overlook the obvious.”

“Right. I’m hanging up now. Call if you need me.”

“What is that noise?”

“Dinner. I’m hungry. Good night.” Jared tapped the disconnect button on his phone and turned his attention to cracking eggs to finish up the omelets.

As he moved, he mentally cataloged the state of his body. His damned legs were jellied and there was an odd knotting in his gut that he told himself was hunger. He was having trouble staying focused, his thoughts drifting to the woman presently soaking in a fresh Epsom bath.

The sexpot fire inspector had fried his brain. A wild lay was not supposed to make a man feel strange. It was supposed to relieve stress, provide a workout, and clear a man’s head. Instead, he didn’t even hear Darcy enter the room until she spoke.

“Whatever you’re cooking,” she said, “smells delicious.”

He glanced at her, cursing inwardly for being caught unawares. “Omelets.”

“Awesome.” She maneuvered around him and opened a cupboard to pull out plates. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her composure irritated him. He’d tugged his pants back on because they were about to eat, but he’d left the fly partially open, exposing the waistband of his boxer briefs. He was shirtless and barefoot, comfortable and relaxed, while she looked like she was ready to leave the house.

“Where are you going?” he asked, scrambling the yolk with enough vehemence to make it frothy.

“Excuse me?”

“You got dressed.” And her hair was damp and slicked back into a ponytail.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to eat naked. You’re not.”

He unclenched his jaw. “You could have put on a robe.”

Setting the plates on the dining table, Darcy returned to the kitchen. “I didn’t want—” She exhaled harshly. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m assuming anything or taking anything for granted. You made it very clear that things need to be simple.”

“No assumptions, but you assume I’ll get antsy if you follow the evidence that says I prepared to spend the night.” He poured the eggs into the pan with the veggies, then added the ham he’d chopped before he called Trish. “Unless what you’re not saying is that you’re ready for me to go.”

She straightened and approached him. “Sex doesn’t improve your humor, I see.”

“Maybe because I’m not done.”

“Okay, then.” She pulled silverware out of a drawer. “That’s settled.”

A moment later, Jared heard her moving the plastic shopping bag off the table. From the sounds of it, she was looking inside, perhaps noticing the toothbrush, antiperspirant, and razor sitting next to the two boxes of condoms. As far as he was concerned that wasn’t optimistic, that was practical. He flipped the omelet with a deft flick of his wrist.