Page 33 of Love Again

He must be pretty sure he’s closing in on whoever is setting fires.

I could kill Keller for saying yes, though. This meant Mateus, Luke, and I would be working together a lot in the next few weeks. Mateus is amazing. The story of what he did for Laurel, how he saved her life by risking his own, still comes in pieces—she still hasn’t quiet given me all the details.

But working with Luke? Being near him leaves me forgetting who I am. And that’s dangerous.

Chapter Ten

Luke

“Jack Carlson and I go way back, Luke. What the hell? I’m not turning him down.”

“I just qualified. Like, today.”

The hands-on part of the fire investigator test went fine. It was pretty straightforward and had less forensic material than I anticipated.

“I don’t even have my scores yet, and I still have to go through the actual certification process.”

“So? You think you passed?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not the point.”

Keller waves a massive hand. “You’re fine. I’m not going to tell him you don’t feel like it.”

I’m shaking my head and looking at my brother. I can’t see any of our mother in him. Maybe the nose. Then I remember he had it broken a decade ago though so, no, not even the nose.

“She wants to divorce me. The papers came yesterday. How am I supposed to work with her?”

My brother is busy making celebratory crepes—beautiful, savory crepes that are paper thin and crispy on the edges—and much to my horror, I’m about to eat my third. He flips the switch to the crepe griddle off.

“Where do you keep your kitchen equipment?” I say. “You don’t have any storage in here. And by the way, was that a zester I saw at the station house? Really? Is someone going to make little slivers of limes or lemons for a cake or something? Why do you even have one there?”

“I had two,” is his answer, and Keller almost sniffs. “Listen, Lukey, my boy—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“So touchy today. Don’t you know women by now?” He deftly peels the last two crepes off the griddle. I can barely hear the “perfect” escape his lips. He spoons in the meat and veggie medley he’s made, places wilted arugula over the top, tosses in some goat cheese, and wraps the whole thing up. He does this twice and hands one to me.

“I can’t eat a fourth.”

“These are small. You’ve lost muscle. You need to get it back.”

I ignore his comment and pursue a different line of questioning. “What do you know about women?”

Untying his apron, he sits down across from me.

“Apparently, a lot more than you do. Damn, this is hot.” He pushes his plate away for a moment. “Why do you think she waited until now to send you papers?”

“I was out of sight, out of mind. Now I’m here.”

“You’re only right about the second part.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re here now. She’s feeling something. Devon’s a fierce, fire-warrior princess—”

“Oh, never call her that—”

“I’ve seen her in action. Shit, you’ve seen her in action. But this? You, here in her space? I bet she’s scared shitless.”