Set the Dark on Fire by Jill Sorenson Page B

keep her hand steady.
    “I didn’t come here just to ask questions,” he said finally.
    She nicked herself. “Ouch!”
    “Would you put that thing down for a minute?”
    Glaring at him, she set aside her razor and sluiced water over her legs, clearing away the suds. Her heart was racing now, anticipating his next words, but she picked up her towel casually and dabbed at the tiny cut on her inner thigh.
    “Did you hurt yourself?”
    She imagined him kissing it better and felt her tummy jump. “No.” She looked up at him, blood rushing through her veins, waiting for him to speak. He stared back at her in silence. Just like the previous day, on that sun-dappled rock at the bank of Deep Creek, the rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.
    The tension between them was as thick as steam.
    Then Dylan crashed through the front door at his usual breakneck pace, destroying the ambience. He was almost on top of them before he realized she had company. Stopping in his tracks, he stood there in the doorway, six feet two inches of pure angst, a basketball lodged under one skinny arm. His T-shirt was sweaty and his hair was damp.
    “What the fuck is this?” he said, summing up the situation in an instant. “I’m not allowed to have Angel in my room, but you can bring home random dudes whenever you want?”
    Shay’s mouth dropped open. Not only had she never said he couldn’t have Angel over, at a reasonable hour, she’d never brought home a man, random or otherwise. “Dylan, this is the new sheriff,” she hissed, mortified by her brother’s behavior.
    Dylan scowled at the star adorning Luke’s front shirt pocket. He hadn’t been a fan of the old sheriff.
    “We’re working together,” Shay explained, wondering why Luke didn’t stand and introduce himself. “A woman was killed by a mountain lion yesterday. Remember?”
    “Yeah, I remember,” he said, looking from the wash-tub to Luke’s face. Although Dylan had a lot to learn about the human condition, as a hormonal teenager, he was well acquainted with lust. “But I’m not stupid. You’re taking a bath in front of him.”
    Shay curled her toes up in the tub self-consciously.
    “He’s right,” Luke interjected at last. “Your brother understands the way a man thinks even if you don’t. It was inappropriate of me to watch you.”
    Dylan relaxed his stance, mollified to have been told he was right and promoted to man status. Somehow, Luke had also made Shay seem innocent of any wrongdoing, which they both knew wasn’t true. She understood very well what he’d been thinking, and hadn’t been above taunting him with a glimpse of what he’d passed up.
    Shay felt her cheeks burn. Having her brother walk in while she was flaunting herself in front of Luke was so embarrassing! What had gotten into her?
    “You play?” Luke asked, nodding at Dylan’s bas ketball.
    Dylan shrugged, reassessing Luke as a fellow baller. “Yeah. You?”
    “All four years at UNLV.”
    Dylan’s face lit up. “Really? They have a good team. Were you first string?”
    “Nah. Third.”
    “You see any court time?”
    “Nope.”
    Her brother nodded eagerly, impressed all the same, and they started talking about UNLV players, playoffs, and plays. It never failed to amaze her that Dylan seemed to remember every shot from every game he’d ever watched, but Luke was right there with him, discussing the merits of a three-pointer from a final eight over five years ago.
    It was the longest, and least contentious, conversation she’d seen Dylan have with an adult in ages. Watching his animated gestures and avid expression, Shay felt her heart twist. Dylan had known Luke five minutes and already connected with him better than her.
    Dangerously close to tears, she busied herself by dumping the tub over the edge of the patio and gathering up her supplies.
    “I still have to talk to you,” Luke said before she slipped away.
    She cleared her throat. “Fine. I