Page 40 of Crash and Burn

A few minutes later, he pealed into the driveway probably grabbing all of the neighbors’ attention as he did. He didn't care. He raced to the front door, one hand grabbing his helmet and holding it by the strap out of habit alone. Otherwise he might have tossed it on the grass in his haste to see that Maggie was okay.

Even as he reached for the door, it flew open.

“Are you okay?” Maggie asked, looking concerned but okay.

The irony that she was worried about him wasn’t lost. But he couldn’t speak as all the breath whooshed out of his lungs.

She was fine. She was in shorts and a T shirt. Her hair was up in a haphazard ponytail and his immediate response was to take her in his arms and kiss her. He reached for her out of sheer want, his body reacting without thinking.

But she frowned ever so slightly, and it was like the scratch of a record pulling him back to reality. He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t made a move on her before, and pulling her into his arms—basically assaulting her now—was not the answer.

“I'm okay.” He managed the words she needed to hear.

“I saw the silver sedan.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and frowned. “You messaged me.”

“I saw it too. I was chasing it and I got the plate.”

She smiled now, wide and beaming, and again his heart twisted. He wished that was for him. “I got a picture of him. That's why I didn't get your message right away. I had my phone in my hand and I was sending it to the FBI.”

“Good. I’m hoping if we just hand everything over to the feds they’ll finally catch this guy.”

Maggie replied, “Agreed, but I’ll also do my own reverse online search.”

Smart, he thought, still breathing heavily and only just now beginning to calm down.

He looked her up and down again. The running shorts weren't normal for her. She was barefoot. Even her ponytail was a bit of a mess—very un-Maggie-like—with dark red curls springing out in various places. He was curious now. “What were you doing?”

“Cleaning,” she offered it with a wry grin. “House this big doesn’t clean itself.”

This was new to him. An image of Maggie as a domestic goddess had simply not occurred to him before.

“Somebody's got to clean,” she sighed.

“I'm staying, I can help.”

“I got most of it done while you were out.” He noticed then that everything was shiny. She must have mopped and dusted everything, maybe burning off extra energy. Lord knew he had plenty to burn himself, but cleaning wasn’t how he wanted to burn it.

He nodded and they stood there in the foyer, face to face, not speaking for a moment. As the silence grew awkward, Maggie looked at him oddly and asked, “What?”

He'd been staring at her.

“What is it, Sebastian? Something's wrong. Tell me.”

He stood there, debating with himself.Should he tell her?

Chapter Thirty-Four

Something was wrong, but Maggie couldn't quite tell what. Sebastian's jaw was clenched and he wouldn't tell her what it was.

To change the subject, she asked, “How did the arson investigation go?”

“It was definitely arson,” he answered, though the tension didn’t seem to go away. “The paper will likely have already printed it. This person didn’t do much to cover their trail. So they’re either a newbie or making a point.”

“You really do have a serial arsonist on your hands.”

He nodded, resigned.

“Any leads?”

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