Safe From the Fire (5 page)

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Authors: Lily Rede

BOOK: Safe From the Fire
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He’d
prepared.

Swiftly,
he disabled the flimsy alarm system and picked the back door lock.

How
did this place not get knocked over every week?
he wondered,
shaking his head over the ease of entry.

Wasting
no time, he headed for the fuse box, hoping that next door, one of those dancing
idiots would hear it when he pulled the fire alarm.

 

GRACE
ROLLED HER EYES and moved her dance partner’s hands off her ass for the third
time with a pointed glare and an “accidental” jab of her spiked heel into his
foot.  He yelped, muttered something scathing that she was glad she couldn’t
hear over the music, and let her go, limping toward the bar.

Adam
pried himself away from the pretty blonde he’d been chatting up.

“You
okay?” he shouted over the music.

“I’m
fine!” she replied, “He may not be dancing for a while, though.”

“Good!”

Grace
was surprised when a stocky young man pushed his way through the crowd,
beelining for Adam.  He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t remember his
name.  Adam seemed to recognize him, however, and leaned down to listen. 
Whatever the newcomer said made her brother grin, and he nodded before turning
back to Grace.

“Hey,
you remember Russell Lansky, right?”

Memory
clicked as the young man held out a hand, his gaze clearly admiring.

“Right. 
Russell.  Your brother was a few years ahead of me.”

“Looking
fine, Ms. Mallow.”

Adam
scowled and Russell instantly backed off.

“Meet
you outside, bro,” he said, and hurried away.

“Russell
and some of our old class are going to meet up at this pool place off the
highway.  I thought it might be nice to go, see if I have any friends left, you
know.  You don’t mind me leaving you alone, do you?”

“I’ll
be fine, but Adam…are you sure this is a good idea?”

She
knew that worry was etched on her face, and Adam frowned.

“Mama
Bear, remember?”

“I
know, but…”

Adam
kissed her on the cheek.

“Don’t
wait up.”

Grace
chewed her lip, watching her brother disappear in the sea of people.

You’re
not Mom,
she reminded herself, and then,
If he fucks up I’m going to kill him.

The
song ended and the band kicked into another number, something hard and edgy
that fit Grace’s mood perfectly.  A few nearby girls pulled her into their
dance circle, and Grace forced herself to relax and think happy thoughts.  She
should be celebrating – Adam was home, and had apparently grown up a bit since
the last time she’d seen him.

Ten
minutes later, Grace’s self-pep talk had kicked in and she was caught up in the
music, rocking out with her dance floor BFFs.  The shrill scream didn’t
register until it was followed by another, and another, and the acrid smell of
smoke.

“Fire!!!”

 

THERE
WAS A GAME on and Matt tried to watch, nursing a soda from the end of the couch
in the rec room.  He was grimly amused that Jackson kept a safe distance from
him and deliberately avoided eye contact, occasionally rubbing his throat. 
Matt felt terrible, but couldn’t bring himself to apologize, not when that
asshole had spoken about Grace like that.

He
really wanted a beer.  Three more hours and he’d be off shift and could go home
to a cold brew and a warm bed and forget this whole shitty day.

Matt
took a swig of his soda and tried to see the bright side.  The fact that he
could even have a drink when he wanted one was huge.  He didn’t drink in
college, despite the usual peer pressure.  The excuse he gave was football – no
alcohol during training – but the truth was that he was waiting for the call
from home, the one that either told him that his mother was finally ready to
leave his father behind, or the one that told him that the worst had happened. 

Matt
had kept a duffel bag packed and ready at all times. 

The
other reason he didn’t drink was the insidious fear that one insult, one wrong
look, one accidental push, and he’d lose it, unable to control his strength,
unable to stop his anger until someone got seriously hurt.  Matt knew he had a
short fuse, but he’d worked hard to control it, to keep his hands gentle, to
find a place for all that anger leftover from the traumatic childhood he
couldn’t forget, and had found an outlet in his work, in keeping his little
corner of the world safe, and in standing up for the little guy.

The
first time he’d had a beer he’d been terrified, but he’d come a long way since
then, and now at least he felt confident that he wouldn’t fly off the handle at
the slightest provocation.

Unless
Grace is involved,
he amended silently, remembering the grain sack and Jackson’s ill-timed taunts.

His
reverie was broken as Gordon skidded into the rec room, out of breath.

“We’ve
got a job.”

 

GRACE
STOOD SHIVERING IN the parking lot with a small crowd, watching the Bright’s
Ferry Fire Department battle the blaze that consumed the small Greek restaurant
next to the nightclub.  To their credit, the bouncers had moved quickly,
evacuating the club with a minimum amount of fuss as smoke poured in from the
blaze next door.  The two fire engines had arrived, followed quickly by too-handsome-for-his-own-good
Sheriff Tony Arnetto and Grace’s friend Evie Asher, who had quickly checked to
make sure she was okay before heading off to interview witnesses with young
Deputy Zeke Biggs in tow. 

Sheriff
Tony was talking to Chief Hammond, a middle-aged man who exuded calm authority
and had been a fixture in Bright’s Ferry since Grace was a little girl.  Mr.
Dmitros, the restaurant owner, was stoically standing off to the side, in shock
as he watched his family-run business go up in smoke.

The
crowd murmured and snapped pictures as the firefighters efficiently hosed down
the adjoining buildings to keep the fire from spreading as well as tackling the
main blaze with water and a foam truck.  The corner of the nightclub roof had
already succumbed, but Grace heaved a sigh of relief as water doused the flames
almost immediately.  The blaze that took out the office building on the other
end of Main Street last night had had the town abuzz that morning, but two
fires in a row was unprecedented in a town this small, and she couldn’t help
the knot of worry growing in her stomach.

A
crash of glass and wood had the blaze flaring and two firefighters separating
from the group to move the crowd back.  Grace spotted Matt immediately – it was
impossible not to.  Even if his size hadn’t given him away, the way he moved
was graceful and efficient, all smooth power and control, even in his heavy
protective gear.

Ok,
I’m not immune to hot firefighters, sue me.

Matt
and Rafael moved the rope line back, urging people to go home and let them do
their jobs.  Grace saw Matt pause as he recognized her, a swift tensing of his
jaw under his helmet, and felt another pang of regret, though she was sure
she’d done the right thing this morning by turning him down.  Maybe.  He
hesitated for a moment, and then stepped toward her.  Grace resisted the urge
to melt back into the crowd to avoid him.

“I
didn’t know you were here,” he said, almost apologetic.

“I
thought it would be fun to celebrate Adam’s first night back in town.”

Matt’s
eyes sharpened, but he only said, mildly, “Adam’s here?”

“No,
he left before the fire started.”

Grace
nodded at the blaze.

“I
can’t believe you do this all the time.”

“I
know it looks bad, but we’ve actually got it pretty well contained.  Luckily
there was no one inside.  Why don’t you go home?  There isn’t anything you can
do here.”

He
was right, but there was no way she could just go home and sleep, wondering if
the fire was out, wondering if he were safe.

She
shook her head.

“I’ll
wait.”

A
muscle in Matt’s jaw twitched, but he nodded, his eyes lingering on her bare
shoulders.

“Don’t
move.”

The
soft order had Grace biting her lip as her body responded eagerly.

He
didn’t mean it like that
, she reminded herself, squelching her libido.

She
pulled herself together as Matt jogged back to the engine cab and returned a
moment later with a blue Bright’s Ferry Fire Department jacket.

“I
don’t want you to freeze,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, stroking
every nerve ending.

Grace
shivered again, but not from the cold, and she knew that he caught it as his
fingers clenched on the soft material.  She turned around, letting him help her
into the jacket, which bagged almost down to her knees.

“Thanks,”
she murmured, rolling up the sleeves.

He
nodded, smiling briefly.

“I’ve
got to get back,” he said, and left her standing behind the rope line.

The
moment his back was turned, Grace burrowed into the warm fabric, grateful for
the protection from the cold night air, but almost dizzy as she took a deep
breath. 
It smelled like him
, like pine shavings from his workshop, the
spicy ocean scent of his aftershave, and
Matt
.  She knew she was being
an idiot, but everything inside her went soft and gooey and even her knees felt
a little weak.  Wrapped in his jacket, watching him be all brave and selfless
and capable and
hot
, Grace was having a hard time remembering why she
needed to push him away.

 

“SMOOTH
MOVE BACK THERE, buddy,” Rafael said, grinning as he helped Matt adjust one of
the hoses to combat a particularly stubborn blaze by the front entrance.

“What
do you mean?”  Matt frowned.

“Going
all Sir Galahad, giving her your jacket…shit, man, she was eating it up.”

“She
was not.  It’s cold out here.”

And
if he had to see her standing back there in that outfit, he was going to have
to fight this fire with a raging hard-on.

He
knew Grace loved to dance, and that she had this thing for small clubs and
smaller bands, but he’d never seen her dressed to party before.  It was
probably a good thing, because Matt’s heart couldn’t stand the strain, not to
mention the rest of his body.

Her
skin was so pale and smooth, and that wicked little corset pushed up those
sweet tits, making his mouth water for a long, thorough taste.  Her hair
tumbled around her in wild ribbons of red and purple, and when she’d turned
around to accept his help with the jacket, he’d nearly swallowed his tongue. 
The criss-crossed laces of the corset bared more than they concealed, and below
the delicate curve of her spine, her legs and
sweet heaven
that ass
were poured into tight black denim, accentuated by boots that boosted her up to
perfect kissing height.

Matt
wanted to peel her out of those jeans and explore every inch with his mouth. 
He nearly dropped the hose at the thought of Grace in nothing but the corset,
arching in pleasure as he held her creamy thighs open and licked her up like
candy.

He
shook his head, trying to focus.  Rafael was still speaking.

“…and
if you took your head out of your ass, you’d realize that she’s over there
right now, snuggled into that jacket like you’re the quarterback and you just
asked her to go steady.”

Matt
didn’t dare look, but his heart skipped a beat.

“Little
busy right now, man.  And she made it pretty clear she’s not interested.”

“I’m
just saying.  Maybe you should ask her out one more time.  Just in case.”

Matt
couldn’t help it.  He looked back. 

Grace
was talking to Evie, her hair whipping around her, clutching his jacket close to
her body, burying her nose in the collar whenever the wind kicked up.

Dammit.

 

DAWN
WAS STARTING TO creep over the horizon by the time the Fire Department declared
the fire completely out, and the structure had been reduced to a soggy, charred
wreck.  The crowd had dispersed until only a handful of onlookers remained. 
Colin Daniels had shown up with a vat of coffee and done his mayoral duty,
getting up to speed and thanking the responders. 

Now
he sat with Grace on the bumper of Tony’s SUV, and Grace was grateful that he
didn’t comment on her presence there or the jacket she still wore.  She assumed
Adam had gotten the message she left on the answering machine and had just had
the good sense to stay away once he got home. Grace probably should have gone
home herself, but she still couldn’t bring herself to do it, for reasons she
really didn’t want to think about.

Mr.
Dmitros spotted together and marched over, fury and grief etched on his face.

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