“Hey.” Before he could ask how much she’d overheard, she put her hand on his arm and literally gave him a physical jolt. Gave her one, too, by the way she pulled her hand back. Jesus, when they finally touched each other sexually—and they would—he was convinced they’d spontaneously combust.

“You okay?”

Better now, he thought. “Yeah.” He took her hand in his, and felt the jolt all the way to his toes. “Quite a zap.”

“Yeah.”

Something about her made him forget his troubles. Well, not forget, but be able to ignore them, anyway. Her eyes were soft and also somehow sweet. After nearly three weeks, Number Seven had finally let her guard down, and damn, but it looked good on her. He wondered if she wanted to put that concern to good use, because he had several ideas—

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Soft, sweet, sexy, and too perceptive. “I’m fine.”

“Because it’s understandable if you’re not. I’m here if you wanted to—”

Oh yeah. He wanted to. He wanted to in his bed, in hers, with her panting out his name as she came all over him.

“—talk.”

He blinked the sexy vision away. “No. Not talk.”

She blushed but didn’t go there. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

So she’d heard everything. “It was a long time ago.”

“And it doesn’t change what you saw at that Hill Street fire.”

He stared at her, a little stunned. “No, it doesn’t.” He felt his heart engage, hard. “You’re different, Brooke O’Brien.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Different good. Different great.”

She didn’t believe him, that was all over her face. “If you’d gone surfing with me,” he said, “I could have shown you, proven it to you.”

“Maybe another time.”

Now that, he could get behind. “I’ll count on it.”

With an unsure but endearing nod, she walked away.

5

IF BROOKE HAD TALKED with Zach for even another minute, she’d probably have thrown herself at him. She wouldn’t have been able to help herself. He’d been standing there, looking fiercely unhappy, and her ears had been ringing with all she’d heard Tommy say to him—about his parents, about that kid dying, about how Zach needed to stay out of it. God, she’d wanted to grab him and hug him and kiss away that look on his face.

Even now she wanted to, hours later, sitting by herself in the house.

Good thing she was off duty for two days. Two days in which to get herself together and find some semblance of control. Because there were other ways to offer comfort than sex, for God’s sake. She could buy a Hallmark card, for instance. Or make cookies.

But neither appealed. No, she wanted to offer a different kind of comfort all together.

A physical comfort.