Tim just stared at him, his mouth a little tight now.

Great. The hard way then. “Tim and I are going to go outside and talk.”

Leah opened her mouth, glanced at Tim, and then shut it again, giving him a nod that he hoped like hell meant she’d stay put.

Less than a minute later, with her head still spinning and her brain not firing on all circuits, Leah heard a shout in the hallway and then a thump. She let go of her grandma’s hand and rushed to the door to find Jack holding a struggling Tim against the wall. They were surrounded by hospital staff, including Dr. Josh Scott and an ER nurse who was on the phone presumably to 9-1-1 because she had one finger in her ear and was yelling about location.

But though it was chaos, Jack’s movements were sure and controlled as he contained Tim. “It’s over, Tim,” he said. “It’s done.”

“I want my lawyer,” Tim yelled, still struggling. “You can’t pin the fires on me, and you sure as hell can’t pin the carbon monoxide poisoning on me either. That ancient gas heater they have in there must be faulty.”

“No one ever said it was the heater, Tim,” Jack said. “But I’m sure that if you’re right, a court of your peers will find it interesting that you knew exactly where the leak was.”

Tim went still, then dropped his forehead to the wall, no longer fighting. “You fucker,” he said. “You think you’re better than the rest of us because your dad was some sort of hero. Well, I’m a hero too. I’ve saved countless people. In that apartment building fire, Sam would have died if I hadn’t gotten him out of there. And then the auto parts store fire. Christ, that was beautiful… No one would have gotten there in time to save anyone if I hadn’t called it in.”

Jack let out a breath. Unbelievable. “Are you kidding me? If you’d managed to start that fire, do you know what would have happened in combination with the gas leak? The whole f**king street would have blown up. People would have died, Tim.”

“I wouldn’t have let that happen.” Tim shook his head, eyes flashing temper. “You should have just let me train to follow in your footsteps. Or let me have a shot at Leah. You have it all, and you wouldn’t share. I deserve everything you have, I’m just as good. Hell, I’m better.”

Jack stared at him, stunned by the sick and twisted hero complex. “You should shut up now,” he said. “Wait for your lawyer. You’re going to need him.”

Tim turned his head, pressing his cheek to the wall as his gaze locked with Leah still standing in the doorway. “She was next. Your woman was next.”

Leah staggered back into her grandma’s hospital room and sat heavily in the chair by the bed.

“Leah,” her grandma murmured. “Are you okay, honey?”

Before she could answer, Jack strode into the room and tugged her up to her feet and into his arms, as if he needed to hold her every bit as much as she needed to be held by him.

“Yes, Grandma,” Leah murmured, gripping him tight, proud that her voice didn’t wobble. She tightened her grip and breathed in the safeness and solidity that was Jack. “I’m okay.”

Leah was trying to sleep and having no luck when she felt someone slip into bed behind her. Warm, strong arms came around her.

“Jack,” she murmured. “You came.”

He kissed her shoulder, her neck. “Not yet. You first.”

She smiled, then moaned when his hand slid beneath the covers and under the T-shirt she wore. It was his; she’d stolen it years ago and worn it so often it was threadbare.

Jack cupped her bare breast and let out a low, inherently male sound of approval, when she arched into his touch. He didn’t say anything but she could feel the tension in him.

Immediately after Tim’s arrest, he’d had to go back to the scene. They’d gotten word through Luke that Max and his half brother weren’t involved with any of the arsons and cleared as suspects. Max had slunk out of town.

Tim wasn’t going to get so lucky. He’d smoked the cigarettes left outside the fire sites as he’d waited for his opportunities. He wore the same size shoes as the footprints found. And, according to what he’d admitted in interrogation, he’d done it all solely for the glory of being a hero.

Leah had been checked out by Dr. Scott—at Jack’s insistence, she’d discovered—and then had stayed with Elsie until visiting hours had ended. She’d called Rafe to say she needed a few extra days. Then Ali had taken her home, where she’d showered, crawled into bed, and…stared at the ceiling.

“You okay?” she asked Jack now.

“Tim’s being held on evidence that we presented to the judge.”

Not an answer to her question. She couldn’t imagine how hard it had been, arresting one of their own, and she glanced over her shoulder at him, finding his face shadowed with exhaustion and worry. His hands were touching as much of her as he could reach, gently roaming over every inch of her. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

“Maybe,” she said.

When he spoke again, there was a whisper of a smile in his voice. “You stole my shirt.”

“Maybe.” She tried to turn over, but his arms tightened on her and he buried his face in her hair. “Talked to Dr. Scott,” he finally said, his lips brushing the curve of her ear as he spoke. “You were treated for mild shock. How are you feeling?”

He was still touching her. His fingers brushed the front of her panties and she forgot the question.

“Leah?”

His front was plastered to her back. She fought the urge to turn and burrow into him, to inhale his scene and hold on forever. “I just can’t believe it was Tim,” she whispered with a shudder.

Jack stroked a hand up her arm, the warmth of him chasing the chill that wracked her. “You did good, Leah. You took a bad situation and held it together.” He was still tense, but she was pretty sure that was pride she heard in his voice. He was proud of her. He was also hard. “Jack?”

He pulled her tighter, his fingers trailing over her skin. “Yeah?”

“The rule,” she said softly. “The one where we’re done?”

He paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I was pissed off and butt hurt. And I was wrong. You’ve never misled me or tried to be someone you weren’t. Life is short, Leah. Too f**king short. It took me a while to catch on to that. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

“What about the no big good-bye.”

His teeth closed over her earlobe and bit down lightly, and heat spiraled through her belly.

And lower.

“I remember,” he said.

“So…what are we doing?”

“New rule just for tonight,” he said. “I’m going to f**k you until you forget about what happened at the bakery,” he said. “And then I’m going to make love to you until you scream my name again. I really like it when you do that.”

She nearly came from just the words.

His fingers slid under the edge of her panties. “Still with me?”

“Y-yes.”

“I want you, Leah.”

Her heart squeezed at the words, given so freely. “Even though I hurt you? Even though I’m leaving? Even though—”

“Even though,” he said, voice low. “I don’t always agree with you, but I always understand. I want you in my life, Leah. That’s never going to change.”

Her breath hitched. Unconditional acceptance. It washed through her, heated her.

His cheek brushed against hers, sandpaper rough. “I know you don’t want a good-bye, and hell if I do either. So this isn’t good-bye. It’s an until. Until our paths cross. It’s happened before. It’ll happen again.”

Not a promise, and that was of her own making. She closed her eyes and took in the feel of him surrounding her, his heart beating at her back, his breath on her jaw. Did it matter?

His mouth was on the nape of her neck, his hands gliding over her body, stirring the desire, the all-consuming need. With a moan, she rocked back against him.

No promises. None were needed, she realized, and whispered his name entreatingly.

He dragged her panties down her legs and then his hand slid back between her thighs. She shivered as his fingers stroked, moving in a pace designed to drive her wild.

Or make her beg. Which at the moment she was perfectly willing to do. “Jack.”

He pulled free and she heard him open a condom, replacing his fingers with something even better. Sliding into her to the hilt, he bit lightly into the junction of her shoulder and neck, and she came.

“More.” His voice was gruff, and he thrust again, deeper. “Again.”

She could barely hear him over the rushing in her ears, though she did hear her own whimper when he pulled out. Lifting his weight off her, he rolled her onto her back. “This way,” he said. “I want to see you.”

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

“No, that’s you,” he murmured. Staring down at her, his gaze dark, determined, intense, he tugged her shirt over her head and slid back into her, making her cry out as he thrust right where she needed him. She rocked against him, her eyes fluttering closed with ecstasy.

“Leah, look at me.” When she did, he thrust again. His eyes seared into her. “Remember this.”

Did he think she wouldn’t? He was all she remembered. Always. “Jack—”

His hand slid between their bodies and found her, and she nearly arched off the bed. She met his every move as another wave washed over her, and through it all she kept her eyes open, let him watch as everything inside her peaked and convulsed.

She took him right along with her. His control snapped and he shuddered, groaning out her name. Shifting his hips, he grinded against her, sending more tremors rippling through her. “This, Leah. I’ll remember this. You. Always.”

Unraveling at his words, she wrapped her arms around him, her legs, and then, she was pretty sure, her heart as well.

Chapter 29

Two days later, Leah stood at her parked car, surrounded by…everyone.

So much for a quiet good-bye.

Jack had spent most of the past two days at work dealing with the Tim fallout. They’d had no private time at all, and now their good-bye was going to be a public deal in front of Ben, Elsie, Dee, and half the town. Nothing she could do about that, she thought, not surprised when Jack took her hand and pulled her aside.

“Not fair,” Lucille called out. “We can’t hear you.”

Jack’s amused but solemn gaze met Leah’s. “So,” he said.

“So.” She sucked in some air. “Love me forever?”

“And ever,” he said. No smile.

Shaken, she stepped into him for a hug. “It really doesn’t matter to you that I didn’t win Sweet Wars, does it?” she whispered, holding on to him tightly. “Or that I screwed up. You really don’t care about any of that. You know the core of me, of who I am, and you still put up with me.”

“Leah.” He slid his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he pressed his mouth to her temple. “You know all of my dark places, and you accept them. You accept me. So why is it so hard for you to believe that I know yours and accept them as well? You’ve been a part of my life for so long, one of the most important parts. That’s what I care about. Not you quitting some TV show, but that you don’t quit me.”

Her breath caught. Her heart hitched. “But I have to go do this.”

“I know. It’s okay. Whatever you want to do, school, open a pastry shop, or nothing at all… That’s not why I love you. And I do love you, Leah. I want you to know that before you leave. Not to change your mind, but to take with you.”

The marvel of it washed over her and was better than the straight shot of the oxygen mask had been. That he felt this way was no surprise, not really. He’d been showing her how much he loved her in one form or another since the day she’d moved in next door to him.

Having grown up as she had, she knew the expression of emotions was all in the actions, not the words.

But the words…oh, the words. They were the most amazing words she’d ever heard. Getting into her car and driving off was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

As the dust settled from Leah’s car, Lucille patted Jack on the arm.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Of course you are. You’re an idiot, but you’re fine.”

Ben, at his side, choked out a low laugh.

When Jack slid him a look, Ben lifted a shoulder. “She’s right, you know. You are an idiot.”

“Yeah? And how’s that?”

“You let her go.”

Jack buried himself in work, and when he wasn’t snowed under by all the work Ronald had left him, Luke and Ben dragged him out. They ate and drank so much he had to increase his workouts, which turned out to be for the best.

Exhaustion was the only way to sleep.

Leah wrote him. She sent emails, texts, and even a few greeting cards that made him smile.

He wasn’t as good with the written word, so he called. The time difference was a bitch, but they spent hours on the phone talking about…hell if he knew.

He just liked the sound of her voice.

She often asked about his mom, who was doing well, thanks to Ronald. She asked about her grandma, who was also doing well. She asked about Jack’s work, and how the transition to deputy fire chief and fire marshal was working out for him, better than he could have hoped for. “Leah,” he said halfway through her last semester. “I miss you.”