Authors: Rose Wulf
“What are you—” Blake started to ask, his eyes widening and
his fingers twitching in an effort to reclaim his keys.
Brooke cut him off as she slipped his keys into her pocket.
“Making sure you stay put. But feel free to switch seats.” Holding his confused
gaze a moment longer, Brooke turned and angled out of the car. She deliberately
did not look back as she jogged up to her front door and extracted her own keys
from her pocket.
****
Blake watched as Brooke disappeared inside her apartment,
feeling almost as confused as he was drained. He released a heavy sigh and
slumped back against his seat. He wanted to be angry with himself for putting
Brooke in danger like that, but at the moment, he couldn’t work up the energy.
By the time he’d made it into the car, the air around them had been ripe with
electrical discharge, and that last lightning bolt had been only barely far
enough away to keep him on his feet.
But now, as the adrenaline wore off, he was paying the
price for his thoughtlessness.
I could’ve
gotten us both killed
. With a brief surge of bitter humor, he decided this
was probably not what Dean had meant when he’d advised Blake to make sure it
was a date neither of them would ever forget.
Fortunately, for whatever reason, the storm hadn’t followed
them past the interstate. And a part of Blake knew he should wonder about that,
but he didn’t have the energy. So he filed it away for future reference and
refocused his attention on his surroundings.
It wasn’t until Brooke was once again in sight—locking up
her apartment, with a duffel bag on the ground at her feet—that Blake
remembered she had told him to move. Dragging in a deep breath, Blake pushed
open the driver’s side door and stepped out. He was glad, if not a little
surprised, that he didn’t seem to need to lean on his door for support.
“Can you walk?” Brooke was already standing in front of
him, with the duffel bag now slung over a shoulder. There was genuine concern
in her eyes that touched him and made him feel even more like an idiot at the
same time.
Still, he did his best to smile. “Yeah. What’s with the
duffel bag?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.” Brooke gestured for him to move
to the other side.
Blake sighed and did as she instructed. He noticed, as he
walked at a slower-than-usual pace, that Brooke took the time to shove her
duffel into his backseat. Then she straightened and watched him until he had
opened the passenger door.
They both ducked inside, and as Brooke pulled the door
shut, she dug his keys out of her pocket.
“Where are we going?” He suspected he already knew the
answer as he watched her stick the key in the ignition.
“I’m taking you home,” Brooke declared, starting the car.
“Whether you exhausted yourself using your powers, or because of all that
lightning, I don’t know. But you need to rest and regain your strength.”
Blake allowed himself to lean back in his seat as Brooke
backed out of the driveway. Eyes falling shut, he said, “It was the
electricity. That little bit of power I used would never drain me like this.”
“Little bit of
power?” Brooke repeated incredulously. “You summoned, like, a ten-foot tidal
wave back there, and then crashed the whole thing onto that fire!”
“It was a little more than eight feet,” Blake clarified,
his lips twitching even though his tone lacked the humor he’d wanted. “And that
wasn’t enough to slow me down.” He wondered what she thought about that—if it
was impressive, frightening, or something else altogether—but he didn’t have
the strength to even study her reaction.
Blake allowed the silence that followed to rest between
them, though he noted with a small amount of reassurance that this silence
didn’t feel at all awkward. She might be worried about him, he realized, but
she didn’t seem to be upset or frightened. As far as he was concerned, in that
moment, that was all that mattered. Well, that and the fact that they were both
still breathing.
The next thing he knew, Brooke was gently nudging his right
shoulder. Blake wanted to curse himself when he realized he’d fallen asleep for
the last couple minutes of the drive. Blinking his eyes open, he mumbled,
“Sorry.” It came out as more of a slur than a word.
Brooke smiled faintly. “It’s okay. Come on, let me help you
get inside.”
Blake did what he could to walk on his own, but for the
first few steps, he had no choice than to lean on her. Fortunately, he was able
to stand properly by the time they’d stepped out of the garage.
“What can I do to help? Do you just need sleep? Should I
make you something to eat?”
Blake shook his head. “Food and sleep will help, but what I
really need is rehydration.”
Brooke stared at him for a beat, processing his words,
before an idea obviously occurred to her. “Do you have a bathtub? Or a hot tub,
or something that you can soak in?”
“Yeah,” Blake replied. “Both, actually.” And he was
impressed at how quickly she’d grasped his situation. He paused as another
thought struck. Sure, he definitely needed a good soak, but that didn’t have to
mean the date was over.
You nearly got
electrocuted and burnt to death,
he reminded himself.
That date’s pretty much over.
“Which would be better for you?” Brooke asked, interrupting
his self-berating.
Blake re-focused. “They’d be about the same.”
Brooke nodded, and when her gaze re-focused and she looked
at him, she smiled and asked, “Why don’t we hit the hot tub, then? I could use
a little relaxation, too.”
“Brooke.” Blake looked away from her smiling face as the
guilt returned in force. His eyes narrowed and he found himself almost glaring
at the floor of his hallway. “I’m sorry. I never meant for that to happen, and
I … I’m glad you didn’t get hurt.”
Brooke reached out and used her fingertips to drag his face
toward hers once more, staying silent until their eyes met. “What happened
wasn’t your fault.
Of course
you
didn’t mean for us to be attacked. And because it seems I need to remind you, I
already knew about your enemies when I agreed to this date.”
Blake swallowed heavily, letting her words settle in his
heart. She was right. He knew she’d already known. At length, he said, “Did you
bring a swimsuit?”
Chapter Sixteen
Blake let his eyes fall shut for a long minute as he sank
until he was nearly ear-deep in water, his head tilted back to rest against the
rim of the hot tub.
This was exactly what he needed. A good soak in good
company, no lightning or electrical fires or even daily responsibilities
hanging over his head. An hour or ten of this and he’d be right as rain—a
saying he personally believed had been coined by some long-lost water elemental.
When Blake felt he could hold a conversation without
slurring or running too short on breath, he pulled himself into a regular
sitting position and looked over at Brooke. His lips twitched again when he saw
she had relaxed so much that she was almost floating. “Don’t fall asleep. I’m
pretty sure I’m the only one who can breathe underwater.”
“You must be feeling better,” Brooke quipped as she lifted
her head and resettled herself in her seat. “Otherwise, I’m sure the delivery
of that would have been all wrong.”
Blake chuckled despite the truth of her words. “I am
feeling better.”
“I can tell,” Brooke replied, her humor fading as she raked
her eyes over his face.
“So, tell me,” Blake began, hoping to keep his tone casual
as he shifted and lifted one arm to rest on the edge of the tub, his fingers
still dipped in the warm water. “What’s with the duffel bag?”
Brooke’s face flushed adorably, and she looked away.
“Well,” she said, stalling. “I was worried about you.” She finally met his gaze
again. “I didn’t really think you should be alone, but I thought you’d be more
comfortable at home, so I decided I’d just stay here. With you.”
Blake grinned. “You were going to stay the night to keep an
eye on me?”
She nodded silently.
His grin slipped away as his tone became quietly serious.
“Yet you said I shouldn’t be saying thank you.”
“If you think about it, it was kind of rude of me to invite
myself like that. I probably
should
have just called your family and had one of them pick you up at my apartment.”
She paused, took a deep breath, and went on. “And you shouldn’t thank me. You
saved my life, not the other way around. You even risked yours to do it. And
for the record, I’m
really
sorry
about that.”
Blake frowned at the underlying guilt he heard in her
words. He lifted the arm that was still mostly submerged, and the water in the
tub swirled around her.
Brooke’s eyes widened when she realized that the water was
slowly pulling her away from the side she’d been leaning against. Gently, the
water carried her over to Blake, depositing her at his side before fading back
into stillness. By the time the swirling had settled down, Blake’s arm had
returned to the water and curved around her, holding her up against his side.
“I don’t want you to apologize for anything that happened
tonight,” Blake said firmly, though his tone was quiet and gentle. “I might not
have caused this ridiculous feud, but it was still my fault your life was in
danger tonight. It was the least I could do.”
She wanted to argue with him. He could see it in her eyes.
She didn’t want him to claim sole ownership of the guilt. But instead Brooke
let herself relax against him, her head landing on his shoulder.
After a moment, Brooke said, “I would never want you—or
anyone, for that matter—dying to protect me. So if you want to help me, okay,
but don’t you dare die for me, got it?”
Blake’s lips curved up again ever so slightly, and his arm
tightened around her. “Got it.” He leaned down to brush his lips against her
hair. He leaned down a bit more then and pressed his lips solidly to the crown
of her head.
Brooke sighed. One of her hands came up, her fingertips
dancing along his exposed chest. “What time is it?”
With his free hand, he reached over and lifted his watch,
which he’d set down on the edge of the hot tub. He frowned at the read-out for
a moment, wishing he could believe that it was broken.
If time flies when you’re having fun, then it must move backwards when
you’re running for your life.
Aloud, he said, “It’s just after seven.”
“Seriously?” Brooke asked, lifting her head to look at him.
Her hand stilled over his chest as their eyes met. “That has to be impossible.”
Blake shook his head, setting his watch back down.
“Apparently not.” He held her gaze for a long moment, and his skin tingled
beneath her hand. He knew he was biased, but she had never looked more
beautiful to him than in that moment. Her hair was piled in a messy bun high on
her head, so she could keep it dry, and she was wearing the same maroon bikini
that she’d worn at the beach on Friday.
Her hand slid up his chest, slowly curving around the nape
of his neck.
She leaned up as he leaned down. Their eyes closed, and
their lips met. Brooke’s fingernails scraped the base of his neck before her
hand plunged into his thick hair, and her other arm lifted, sliding up along
his body until she had the proper angle to wrap it around his shoulders. His
arm tightened around her waist as his tongue slipped past her lips.
They shifted, and Blake wrapped an arm around her back to
pull her flush against him. The material of her bikini left most of her skin
exposed, and his hands found vast expanses of her smooth, tempting flesh. With
every slide of her tongue against his, Blake found himself feeling less and
less tired.
“Blake!” a muffled male voice shouted.
The couple tore apart, startled, and turned wide eyes to
the sliding glass door that led to his back porch. They looked back at each
other, her hands on his shoulders and his hands on her hips, and she was
obviously wondering the same thing. Who had called him?
The door was thrown open with surprising force, and before
either could recover, Dean had stepped through. His eyes settled on them, and
for a moment, all three were silent and still. Then Dean released a heavy breath,
his posture relaxed, and he shook his head, muttering, “I
oughta
kill you, dammit!”
Too confused to be embarrassed by the situation, the couple
pulled apart and Blake shifted to rest one arm on the edge of the hot tub as he
raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”
Dean narrowed his eyes in a frustrated glare and threw his
arms wide as he exclaimed, “What do you mean ‘what’s going on’? We’ve been
looking for you everywhere, you idiot!”
“Why?” Blake asked, fearing that he and Brooke had not been
the only victims of the night. “Is someone hurt?”
Dragging in a deep breath, Dean clenched his fists and
closed his eyes tightly. “You tell me,” he finally demanded. When he opened his
eyes again he held his brother’s gaze solidly. “The three of us went down to
the beach looking for you,
‘
cause
we figured you’d have gone there on your date, but of course you weren’t there.
And you weren’t answering your cell.”
Blake shook his head, realization slowly dawning. “I’m
sorry. I left my cell in my room and I didn’t think to call. We’re fine.”
Dean lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose
exasperatedly. “Dad heard a weather report on the radio that said some freak
lightning storm had hit the beach. We all knew you would probably end up there,
so of course he called to warn you, but you didn’t answer. So he called Logan,
who called me and Nate.”
The guilt returning, though for an entirely different
reason, Blake cringed. “Damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d have heard. We
were at the beach when the storm hit. By the time you heard about it, we must
have already been back here.”
Some of the frustration left Dean’s face and his arm
dropped to his side. Gaze flicking between them, he asked, “You’re sure you’re
okay? Why’re you soaking?”
“There were a few too many lightning strikes,” Blake
admitted. “But once we got past the beach we were fine. The storm, or whoever
was controlling it, didn’t try to chase us.”
Dean nodded, accepting his answer. “Good. Although I’m
still inclined to beat the crap out of you. You should have called someone.”
Blake looked away guiltily. “I will next time.” His eyes
widened, and he looked back to his brother, asking, “Where’re Logan and Nate?”
If they were still at the beach, they could be hurt. Or worse.
“Nate opted to stay at the beach, just in case,” Dean
replied as he dug his hand into his coat pocket. “Logan and I split up. He went
to check her apartment in case you’d gone there.” He pulled his phone out,
flipped it open, and hit a couple of buttons before putting it to his ear.
Blake’s stomach clenched. He hoped Dean was calling Nate first. And he hoped
Nate would answer.
Brooke looked back at Blake and whispered, “Maybe I really
should have called someone for you.”
“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t even call after you brought it
up.” He was such a moron. He
should
have called.
They fell silent as Dean began talking into the phone,
their attention returning to him.
“It’s me,” Dean said. A moment later, he added, “Yeah,
they’re both here, and they’re okay. But you should call Nate and get him the
hell away from the beach, in case whoever’s behind all this crap is still
hanging around.” After another pause, he told Logan (who Blake assumed he was
talking to) that Blake had promised to give them the details the next day, and
then he hung up.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Dean said, “I’d
yell at you some more, but Mom and Angie will probably do that for me
tomorrow.”
Blake cringed and inclined his head. “I am sorry, Dean.”
And Dean was right. He was going to get a royal chewing-out, and he had it
coming.
Dean sighed. “I know.” The air was heavy with guilt and
easing frustration for a long moment, and then Dean’s lips twitched as his eyes
flicked between them again. “Well, since you’re both all right, I’ll just let
myself out. Carry on.” His grin was undeniable as he turned without another
word and stepped back into the house, pulling the sliding door shut behind him.
“Try to ignore him,”
Blake grumbled, his voice choked in embarrassment, as he stared at a spot on
his porch near where Dean had been standing. He was searching for something to
say to push past the embarrassment when a familiar lurching in his stomach
reminded him of something else. Lifting his eyes back to Brooke, though she was
still staring at the edge of the hot tub, he asked, “Hey, are you hungry? We
never had dinner.”
Brooke’s eyes widened and lifted to his. A moment later, a
smile curved her lips and she nodded. “Actually, yes. I’m starving.”
With a nod, Blake moved and pushed to his feet. He still
wasn’t at full strength, but a good meal would go a long way towards changing
that.
****
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Brooke asked again as Blake
eased into the Earl’s Diner parking lot Sunday morning.
Blake chuckled even as he pulled to the curb at the front
entrance. “I’m sure, I promise. This way I know I get to see you again today,
remember?”
Brooke allowed herself to smile as she slid the seatbelt
off and then leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “All right, then I’ll
see you in a while. Thanks for the lift.”
“It was my pleasure,” Blake replied with a lopsided grin.
Flashing a final smile at him, Brooke grabbed her purse and
stepped out of the car. She paused to wave before turning and letting herself
into the diner.
After dinner the night before, Brooke had insisted on
staying anyway, saying she wanted to be absolutely sure that he was okay. Blake
hadn’t put up much of an argument, and they had ended up on the couch, watching
another movie. But Blake had fallen asleep about halfway through, telling
Brooke all she’d needed to know about how much energy he still didn’t have.
She’d woken him up and convinced him to go to bed a little early, promising
she’d wake him if she needed anything. And then she’d settled down right beside
him, realizing that she was tired, too.
In the morning, Brooke had been grateful that she’d somehow
thought to throw her uniform into her duffel bag when she’d been packing, but
she wondered what she’d really been thinking. Her uniform would do her no good
if she couldn’t get to work. Fortunately, Blake had woken fully recovered and
offered to drive her.
And now she was walking into work feeling downright giddy,
and at the same time almost like a teenager slipping into the house after
curfew. She hadn’t seen her adopted family since the weekend after Christmas,
even though they emailed or talked on the phone fairly consistently, but in the
course of time she’d been living in Darien, a lot of the diner staff had come
to feel like family. Paula and Georgia especially had taken her under their wing—and
they were more than likely to question her about her chauffeur.
After exchanging a brief hello with the new hostess, Brooke
quickly shuffled her way to the back room. It wasn’t until she was halfway
through the dining area that she remembered what else had happened the day
before.
What are we going to do without
Ed?
He’d been cooking there for nearly a decade. It would be strange to
have a new Head Chef, but the diner wouldn’t survive without one.
She pushed into the back room, unsurprised to see Georgia
already securing her apron. And she couldn’t help but smile, just a little,
when she realized that that meant the older woman hadn’t seen who had dropped
her off. “Morning,” Brooke called, moving to her own locker.
Georgia lifted her head and returned the smile. “Morning.”
Her smile turned mischievous. “How was your date?”
Brooke tried not to cringe, grateful her back was turned.
She’d forgotten somehow that she’d told Georgia about the upcoming date. “It
was pretty good.” She was sure Blake would give her a funny look if he’d been
able to hear that response. Yes, someone had tried to kill them. But their
enemy—whoever it was—had failed. And how could she not be happy to be alive?