Page 101 of Flash Point

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“Stay the fuck away from her.”

A broad smile swept across Cruz’s face, making him even more handsome. He ripped off another bite of his sandwich and garbled out, “You got it bad, bro.”

Zeke rolled his fingers into fists and stared at the empty staircase. He didn’t bother denying it. Cruz knew him too well.

“She’s obviously into you, too, so what’s with the pained expression?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Zeke slid a glance at his brother, who seemed to not have a care in the world as he systematically snarfed down his dinner. Whereas, Zeke’s nerves were stacked so tightly on top of one another that he found it hard to breathe.

They had so much riding on the success of this operation. If it failed, Zeke would be responsible, and he didn’t know how he’d live with himself if he were the cause of ruining Ash’s career and unleashing a torrent of lethal drugs onto the streets of his hometown.

And losing his chance to recover Lupos.

Yet he couldn’t seem to keep his professional distance from Liv. A guilty flush crawled up his neck as he recalled how good she’d felt in his arms last night and how much he wanted moments like that with her for the rest of his life.

How he’d said as much and how she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

“I’ve got a lot on my damn plate right now,” Zeke growled, “in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Cruz’s smile disappeared, and tension sharpened his shoulders. “Whose fault is that?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve asked you more than once to let me take on some of your responsibilities and Neuman is ready—”

“Neuman’s not ready. He hasn’t even gone on an active recovery yet.”

“There’s no reason he couldn’t have joined us on the Warner recovery. It was low risk, but challenging enough to test his mettle. After the botched dry run, he practiced for hours until he perfected his technique—and carried enough backup equipment to make Big Foot groan.”

“He never said anything—”

“You never asked.” The same eyes that melted many women’s hearts were now savage and unrelenting. “You never ask. You do and do and do like you’re Super-fucking-man, then get overwhelmed and pissed off when mistakes are made.”

Every word Cruz uttered stoked a rising inferno inside him. Who was he to criticize how Zeke led this team? He—like the rest of his brothers—had reaped the rewards of BARS’s success, then went about the rest of their lives without a thought for the future because they knew big brother had it covered.

A disturbance at the top of the stairs cut off Zeke’s retort. Barefoot and wearing a turquoise fringed flapper dress, shot with geometric patterns of gold, that did nothing to hide the luscious curves of her body, Liv skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs.

“I’m sorry.” She held the banister while squeezing her foot into a break-your-neck pale gold stiletto. “My blasted hair wouldn’t cooperate.”

In a low voice, Cruz said, “Trust your team, Zeke. We’ll all be a lot happier.” Then he lifted his attention to the beauty at the top of the stairs and smiled. “Your hair looks great, Liv. Despite my brother’s annoyance, we’re still on schedule. Good luck tonight. We’ve got your back every step of the way.” Cruz’s luminescent eyes cooled when they returned to Zeke. “Yours, too, shithead.” He stuffed the last bit of his burger into his mouth and left.

Zeke stared after his brother for a long, uncomfortable moment, playing his words over and over in his mind.

Trust your team.

We’ll all be a lot happier.

Got your back.

“Is everything okay?” Liv asked into the silence.

All thoughts of Cruz evaporated at the sight of Liv gliding down the staircase. In one hand, she held a delicate half-mask and beaded clutch that matched her shoes, while her other hand skimmed along the railing, reminding him of how they felt when they traced a line down the hollow of his back.

She paused on the last stair, placing them eye-to-eye. As if he’d done it a thousand times before, he leaned forward and gave her a soft, thorough kiss. Seconds later, he pulled away, and they were both breathing hard.

“Everything’s fine,” he whispered against her lips.

“You’re not wearing a costume?”


Tags: Tracey Devlyn Paranormal