Page 58 of Burning Justice

For her, he’d do it, anyway. Because she’d asked. Because she needed him.

Blaze finished his kibble and licked his lips. Brett refilled the same bowl with water, watching as his dog slurped nearly the entire bowl, then about-faced and trotted back in the direction of Gemma’s bedroom.

Sweat beaded his forehead, and his polo shirt stuck to his chest. In the hallway, he cranked up the AC. Tonight wasn’t a good night to sleep in his usual nighttime garb.

Absolutely nothing.

He stepped quietly into the bedroom, half hoping Gemma had fallen asleep.

No such luck.

Yet he breathed an inward sigh of relief. She’d pulled a sheet over her legs and stuffed one of the two pillows behind her head, using the wall as a headboard. Blaze lay next to her, soaking up her attention as she scratched the underside of his chin and whispered things to his dog that he couldn’t quite make out. Whatever sweet nothings she was saying must have been good to Blaze’s ears. His tail thumped nonstop, making loud thwacking noises on the mattress.

Color had come back to her face. Unfortunately, the marks on her neck were darkening quickly, sending another hot blast of rage through him. No matter how long it took or what he had to do, he’d find the guy who did this to her and make him pay.

“Can I get you anything?” he said from the doorway. “Pain meds? Water?”

She shook her head. “Thanks. I grabbed some while you were feeding Blaze.”

“How about those eggs? You never did eat dinner tonight.” Neither did he, but he’d lost his appetite the second he’d seen Gemma’s injuries. The only thing he had an appetite for at the moment was to beat the shit out of the guy who’d inflicted them.

She reached behind her head to adjust the pillow and winced. Brett rushed over and knelt on the mattress, reaching over Blaze, who’d planted his big, hairy head on the other pillow.

“I’ve got this.” He did his best to fold the pillow in half, creating more of a bolster, then reached for the other pillow beneath Blaze’s head.

“No, that one’s for you.” Her cheeks flushed as she averted her gaze.

“Looks like I’ll have to fight Blaze for it.” His dog looked up at him, his golden eyes daring him to yank the pillow away. Instead, he sat next to Blaze and leaned back against the wall.

Gemma shifted to face him, then began rubbing Blaze’s side. His dog groaned with pleasure, rolling onto his back with his legs in the air. Blaze was the biggest ham. Like any experienced government employee, he knew how to work the system.

“Do you always sleep with your gun on?” Gemma dipped her gaze to his holstered Glock.

“Not on me,” he admitted, then sat forward to unbuckle his belt and slide off the holster.

She continued rubbing Blaze’s belly, making him groan louder. “I bet you always sleep with it right next to you. Am I right?”

“Yep.” He set the holster on the floor next to the mattress. “Want me to get your nail gun and plug it in over there?” He indicated the outlet next to Gemma’s side of the mattress.

She giggled, the first time he’d ever heard such a feminine sound from her. As with the other things about Gemma he was beginning to like more and more, he liked that, too.

The AC might be cranked higher, but his polo shirt still stuck to his chest like a second skin. Using his thumb and forefinger, he tugged it away from his body.

Her hand on Blaze’s belly stilled. “I’m not coming on to you, but if you’re hot, you could take off your shirt. It won’t, um”—she sucked in her lower lip—“offend me.”

Okay.

The second he whipped off his shirt, cool air hit his sweat-dampened chest. The groan he made could have given Blaze’s a run for his money. He leaned over and tossed the shirt on the floor. When he turned back, Gemma’s eyes had widened, her expression one of sympathy.

Right. My scars.

Over the last year, he’d learned to live with them. At times, he even forgot they were there. His ex had never really been comfortable with them, and from the look on Gemma’s face, she found them equally unsettling. The one on his back had been the worst, covering a few square inches.

Her focus shifted to the other burn scar on his forearm. “Do they still hurt?”

“Mostly no. Except when exposed to sun or extreme heat.” Like when he’d been standing outside the warehouse fire the other night. “Tori helped me, gave me some of her aloe vera plants. I’ll give you one of them to use when your bandages come off.”

“Thanks.” She looked at his scar again. “Why the dragon tattoo?”