"Maybe not," Joe said. "But it's time for a whole new list called The Boyfriends, and Kevin goes right to the top. He's a woodworker?"
"Kind of, but he preferred painting. He wasn't great at either."
Joe was quiet for a second. "That first night after I agreed to help you, I got ahold of the official notes on the fire. I talked to the arson detective who'd worked the case."
She stared at him. "Why?"
"You'd asked for my help," he said. "I never go into anything unprepared."
"No, I mean why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "Or share the notes?"
"Because there wasn't anything in there that you didn't already know." He paused. "And I thought reading about it all over again would upset you."
She took that in for a moment and nodded.
"Kylie."
She met his gaze.
"You weren't in any way blamed for the fire."
"Only because there wasn't enough evidence."
He shook his head. "You're not at fault."
"You don't know that. It could've been my fault."
"It wasn't," he said firmly, calmly.
Something about his unwavering belief in her while still holding back his heart made her mad. "How do you know?"
"Because I know you," he said. "Maybe even better than anyone else."
Seeing as this was very likely true, she didn't respond. And also because she wanted to say, If you know me so well, why won't you let yourself love me? But that was way too desperate and needy and she was done with that. "What do you think you know about me?"
He gave a small smile. "That you're crazy stubborn, crazy smart, and crazy careful." His smile widened. "You're also crazy OCD when it comes to your work. No way did you leave the soldering iron on. Someone else must've come along after you and done it. You had nothing to do with that fire and I'm betting that when we get to the bottom of this, I'll be able to prove it to you once and for all. Now tell me everything else you know about Kevin."
"He never really got anywhere with his art," she said. "He ended up working for an art dealer and learning the ropes. Haven't heard about him for a while, but last I did, he was working independently for several galleries across the country. I need to talk to him." She stood up and headed to the door.
He caught her by her purse strap.
"You're not leaving me behind," she said tightly, knowing that's exactly what he wanted to do. "I'm going to see him."
"I get it," he said. "And I'm with you. But not at two in the morning. It doesn't feel safe. We need a plan and backup."
She crossed her arms, both believing him and also doubting him. "We never needed backup before."
"We were never close before. And this feels close. And dangerous." He put his hands on her arms, bending a little to look into her eyes. "Putting you in danger is unacceptable to me. We're going to wait until morning, when we've made a plan and thought it all through."
All of that made sense but he'd shown his hand earlier. He intended to cut her out of this. Back when she'd been little and her mom had dug her heels in about something or another, being totally unreasonable-as Joe was being now-she'd learned there was only one way to handle the situation. Play dead. So she nodded and bit back her argument. "Okay," she said. "Fine."
Joe, not nearly as easy a mark as her mom, went brows up at her way-too-easy acquiesce. "Okay, fine?" he repeated.
She didn't respond, just freed herself and headed to the door. On the way, she slid a look at Joe's desk and couch, and sensual erotic memories of being on them with Joe flashed bright in her mind. And in her heart. She hardened that heart and walked out the door.
Joe followed, and if he was plagued by those same memories, he kept it to himself pretty well. Did he even remember? She glanced back at him and found his eyes dilated to almost black.
Yeah, he remembered. He drove her home and she was out of his truck and heading to her front door almost before he parked.
When he caught up with her, clearly planning on going inside with her, she sent him a long oh hell no look.
"I'm going to make sure you get inside safely," he said.
"I always do."
Joe didn't bend on this. "You've been rattling cages and looking under rocks. I'm going to walk you inside your damn apartment, Kylie."
She lifted her hands, giving the unspoken message of fine, but you're still an asshole.
And given his sigh, he got that message loud and clear.
"So, what time?" she asked.
"What time what?"
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What time are we going to talk to Kevin?"
"I'll check with the guys and let you know." He walked her in and checked her place. And then turned to her, most likely to state his case on staying, but before he could, she opened the front door in silent invitation.
He ran a hand over his jaw. He hadn't shaved that morning and she was viscerally reminded of the night before, his lips touching her in intimate places, the brush of his stubble against her skin. In fact, she still had the slightest of whisper burn on her inner thighs and she wrapped her arms around herself to control the tremor.
And to keep herself from stopping him from leaving at all.
"Kylie-"
"No," she said and let out a rough laugh because damn if just the sound of her name on his lips didn't make her want to cave. With another mirthless laugh aimed directly at herself, she nudged the door open wide.
After holding her gaze, he nodded, ran a finger along her jaw, and did as she wanted. He left.
Chapter 29
FirstRuleAboutFightClubIsYouDontTalkAboutFightClub
Joe went straight back to the office, doing his damnedest to set aside his personal emotions. There was a job to do, and the job always came first. But his chest ached like a son of a bitch with something he wasn't used to feeling-fear.
Fear of losing her.
But he'd made his bed so he texted Archer because it was time for reinforcements. Archer agreed and luckily the team didn't blink about coming in at three a.m.
As they did for every job, they gathered intel and went through it with a fine-tooth comb. Joe had already done most of the legwork, with the exception of looking into Kylie's mom's boyfriends.
And that's where they hit pay dirt.
Or more correctly, Lucas did. He pushed his iPad to the center of the table in the conference room so everyone could see it.
Joe stared at the intel in disbelief. Kevin was indeed an art buyer now, but there were some ugly things deep in his past. The guy had been arrested on suspicion of arson.
Twice.
And both times had gotten off.
"Coincidence?" Lucas asked.
"I don't believe in coincidences," Archer said.
Neither did Joe. He wanted to go into the marina hot and drag that ass-munch right to jail, and he wanted that like yesterday. But he no longer ran on sheer emotion, balls, and lack of common sense. Patience had been drilled into him, along with the ability to make and execute a plan under any circumstances.
"Best to go in at dawn," Archer suggested. "In that area, if we go in now, any lights we use will be reflected off the water and too easily seen." He looked at Joe. "What time will Kylie be here?"
Joe hesitated and Archer went brows up. "You're leaving her out of this?"
"Yes."
"Your funeral," Archer said with a shrug. "Let's catch that asshole with enough evidence so she can be done with this."
By that time it was four a.m. Everyone agreed to meet back in one hour and they all scattered, either to find food or catch a catnap.
Except Lucas. He stayed in the conference room, waiting until he and Joe were alone.
"What else is going on?" he asked quietly. "You're off."
"I'm fine."
"You get in a fight with Kylie?"
Joe gave him a back the fuck off look, which Lucas ignored. "How did you screw it up?"
"Why would you assume I screwed it up?"
"Because you're a moron when it comes to keeping a good woman," Lucas said.
Hard to be insulted at the truth. "It'll be fine."
"Yeah?" Lucas asked skeptically. "What's the last thing she said to you?"
"Why?"
"Did she smile at you? Touch you? Kiss you goodbye?"
"Actually," Joe said, "she laughed at me."
"Hell, dude. When a female laughs at you during an argument, she's turned the corner from pissed to psycho and she's about to murder your ass. You need your six covered?"
"I think I'm good," Joe said wryly. Kylie wasn't going to kill him. She was going to do worse-she was going to dump his sorry ass.
Knowing it, he drove home to shower and recharge. But when he pulled up to his place, there was the glow of an interior light that he knew he hadn't left on. Pulling his gun, he let himself inside.