Page 16 of Light My Fire

“Guess so.” He cuts open the baked potatoes he pulled out of the oven. “These probably aren’t done yet but I guess they’ll do.” He shoots me a look. “Unless you want to take a crack at fixing the generator.”

He’s on to me.

“How do you know there’s a generator?”

“Because I saw it when we pulled up. It’s on the south side of the house.”

“I’ll look at it after we eat. I don’t want my steak to get cold.”

“Aren’t you concerned that Brooke is worried?” His voice is still low, so she can’t hear us.

“Does she look worried?” I gesture to her, squatting down in front of the fireplace. Her kindling is already lit, and she’s building a log tower over it.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the hell you and Jackson are doing, but I don’t like it. She’s way too young.”

That makes me laugh. “For you, maybe. Not for me. And have youlookedat her?”

“More than I’d like to admit.”

I grin. “You just did. Youlikeher.” I’m both amused and a little threatened. Luke has that brooding emotionally unavailable crap going on that women scoop up like ice cream.

He’s a real barrier to my plan.

So is Jackson because he’s ridiculously good looking, charming, fun, and has bagfuls of cash.

I don’t have what either of them does. But I do have a secret weapon—I’m a fucking nice guy.

Brooke seems like a girl who actually appreciates a nice guy.

Especially one who always makes sure his girl comes first. In and out of bed. It matters to me to take care of a woman’s needs.

I carry two plates to the family room. Jackson has returned from his mission to save his microbrews and in a minute, we’re all eating on the floor at the coffee table. Jackson is complimenting Brooke’s fire building skills so effusively she’s becoming uncomfortable. She said thank you the first two times but now she’s giggling nervously.

“Just eat,” I tell him when he makes a third comment.

“What? I’m impressed.”

“So you’ve said. Three times.”

“I don’t know how to build a fire,” he says, picking up his beer bottle.

“Then I guess you’ll never win Survivor.” I shove a piece of beef in my mouth. He’s actually getting on my nerves.

Jackson eyes me. He’s wearing a smirk. “My steak is overdone.”

I ignore him. “Brooke, do you need anything? I’m going to grab myself a beer.”

“No, I’m good, thank you.”

“I need another beer,” Jackson says.

I’m tempted to tell him to get it himself but I don’t want to look petty or childish in front of Brooke. I’m also reluctant to leave her alone with my competition for more than sixty seconds so I retrieve one off the deck as quickly as possible. When I sink back onto the carpet in the family room, Brooke has pushed her plate away.

“I’m full,” she says. “That was delicious, though.”

“I’m done too.” Jackson seems more interested in his drink and Brooke than his steak or salad.

Luke is the only one who’s eaten every bite. He also does seem to be in a better mood. Brooke was right—maybe he was just hangry.

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