Spark

CHAPTER 43

School was closed for the week.

It didn’t stop Gabriel from waking at five the next morning. He wandered into the kitchen and flipped on the dim light over the sink, rinsing the coffee carafe to start a new pot. Then he found a package of chocolate chip cookies in the cabinet and dropped into a chair at the table.

A purse had been left on one of the other chairs, and Gabriel raised his eyebrows. Quinn or Becca had spent the night.

His brothers sure were getting daring.

Or maybe Michael was getting more lax.

It made Gabriel think of Layne.

He missed her.

Light footsteps crept down the hallway, and Gabriel grinned, wondering which girl he was going to catch doing the walk of shame.

When Hannah tiptoed into the kitchen with wet hair and wearing an oversized T-shirt with jeans, he almost choked on a cookie.

“Damn,” she whispered, her cheeks pink, but a rueful smile on her lips. “I knew it was a mistake to leave my purse down here. Nick or Gabriel?”

“Gabriel.” He pushed the cookies across the table. “Have a cookie. Is that my brother’s shirt?”

Her cheeks turned redder and she grabbed her bag. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

“Nah. Stay.” Gabriel gestured at the counter. “I just made coffee. You want a cup? Where’s Michael?”

She hesitated, then eased into a chair. “He’s in the shower.” She paused. “Look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea—”

“Don’t worry, I already have.” Gabriel pulled three mugs down from the cabinet. “How do you take it?”

“With an obscene amount of milk and sugar.”

Déjà vu hit him in the chest, and he hesitated before pouring. “Me too.” Then he joined her at the table.

She wrapped her hands around the cup and took a sip, just as Michael came through the doorway. Wet hair, clean shaven.

He stopped short upon seeing Gabriel. “I thought you’d be out for a run.”

“Hey, Mike,” he said innocently. “I thought girls weren’t allowed to spend the night?”

“Watch it.”

“At least you’re not wearing her shirt.”

“I think that’s enough.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to fire back, but then Michael stepped up to the table, ducked his head, and kissed Hannah on the cheek.

With enough tenderness that Gabriel didn’t want to mock it.

Just checking up on the investigation, my ass, he thought.

He looked away. “I’m going out in a bit, so you two can have the house to yourselves.” Then he smiled. “Except for Nick. And Chris.”

“I’ve got to be at work at seven-thirty,” said Hannah. “So I won’t be here long.” Then she jumped and pulled a vibrating cell phone out of her pocket. “It’s my folks, so I’ve got to take this . . .”

But she was already walking down the hallway and stepping out the front door.

Michael turned from the counter with a cup of coffee in hand. “Don’t start,” he said to Gabriel.

“I didn’t say anything. I’m just glad you weren’t jerking her around.” Gabriel paused. “So I guess you don’t have too much baggage after all?”

Michael gave him a look. “Trust me. I do.” He sat down at the table. “She just has enough to match.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means she has a five-year-old son.”

Gabriel went still. “Holy crap.”

“So we’re taking things really slowly.”

“Looks like it.”

This was quite possibly the first time Gabriel had ever seen his older brother blush. “It was late. She slept here. We did not—” Michael broke off. “I don’t really think I need to explain myself to you.”

Gabriel smiled and took a sip of coffee. “No, no, I’m enjoying this.”

Michael ran a hand through his hair. “Not like it matters when I don’t even know what the next few days will hold. You said you think this Calla girl is going to keep setting fires?”

“Yeah. I do.”

The front door opened again, and Hannah whisper-shouted down the hallway. “Gabriel, someone is here to see you.”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “It’s five o’clock in the morning.”

“Don’t look at me.” Gabriel walked down the hallway and out onto the front porch while Hannah walked back inside.

Layne stood there, in black yoga pants and tennis shoes, with a turquoise hoodie and her hair in a ponytail. Her face was flushed, her eyes shining in the porch light, tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead.

“When you said four miles,” she said, “you weren’t freaking kidding.”

“You ran here?” he said. “In the dark?”

“Only the first two miles. Then I was dying.” She shrugged a little. “I walked the rest. I’m sure I’m a mess.”

“No,” he said, feeling a bit dazed at finding her there. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m sorry I just showed up,” she said, looking shy. “I knew you’d be awake, and I need to ask you—”

“Ask me later,” he said. And he kissed her.