Safe From the Fire (10 page)

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Authors: Lily Rede

BOOK: Safe From the Fire
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The
cops would be so busy focusing on their pursuit of the Mallow boy that he would
go unnoticed.  He could complete his work and then vanish.  And if the boy took
the fall…well, he was a criminal after all.  No need for that kind of trash in
Bright’s Ferry.

 

THE
WAVE OF RELIEF that swamped Grace as Adam emerged from the conference room,
clearly still a free man, was so intense that she felt dizzy as she hurried
forward to meet him.

“Are
you okay?”

“I’m
fine.”

“What
did they say?”

“Don’t
leave town, you yellow-bellied scum,” Adam mustered in a credible Western
drawl.

“Seriously?” 

Grace
glared at Evie, who stepped out of the room with Sheriff Tony and Matt.

“I’m
going to fix this,” she declared, dragging Adam toward the front door, ignoring
Matt as best she could, “They can’t just assume that you’re a criminal.  They
would also have to assume that you’re an idiot, because I can’t think of any
other reason you would come back to town only to torch it.  Why set fire to a
place where they already
expect
you to walk around carrying matches and
lighter fluid?”

Grace
knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t help it as she tugged Adam out of the
building and steered him back in the direction of home.  The night was dark and
cold, but the smell of fire lingered.

“Can
we stop and pick up a pizza?”

“How
can you be hungry at a time like this?”

Adam
shrugged.

Boys.

“How
did your date go?”

The
question came from out of the blue, and Grace scowled.

“I
don’t want to talk about it.”

And
she didn’t – not about Matt, not about fires, not about the fact that she still
wasn’t wearing any panties.  Her body flashed hot and cold, remembering Matt’s
hands stroking the curves of her ass and the jerk of lace that accompanied the
ripping sound.

“And
you wore
that
?  If your plan was to convince him that you’re secretly a
nineteen-fifties Sunday School teacher, that dress definitely would have done
the trick,” Adam teased.

“Shut
up.”

“Did
you at least bring home a toolkit?” he sighed.

“What?”
Grace tried to make sense of the abrupt change in subject.

“I’ll
take that as a no.”

Adam
rolled his eyes.

“I
didn’t get a chance to tell you – I’ve got a job interview, day after tomorrow.”

Grace
stopped short, eyes widening.

“Oh
my God, where!?”

“Lansky
Construction.  Russell convinced his brother Darryl to give me a shot.  It’s
kind of appropriate, right?  I burned stuff down, and now I get to build things
up.  I know there are going to be some people who think...well, they won’t like
it.”

“Who
the fuck cares what people think?  A job is a job.”

Adam
smiled, clearly pleased with her approval, and Grace felt a pang – Adam hadn’t
had much of that in the last few years.  For all of his big talk about standing
on his own and being an adult, he could use a serious dose of unconditional
support.  At least she could give him that.

He
pulled her to a stop in front of the local pizza place.  The lights were still
on, though through the window a busboy was busy stacking chairs and mopping the
floor.

“Seriously,
I’m starving.  Let’s convince Mr. Franzi to take one more order.  He likes you,
right?”  Adam sounded hopeful.

“He
likes anyone with breasts.”

“Perfect. 
You flash him, I’ll order.”

Grace
punched her brother in the arm, but smiled, her first real, relaxed smile since
her disastrous date with Matt had ended so abruptly.

“How
about
you
flash him and I’ll order.”

Grinning,
Adam pushed open the door.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

 

MATT
FELL INTO BED feeling like he could sleep for a week.  Technically, he should
still be off duty, but the fires had put the entire department on call, and
Chief Hammond was already arranging for backup from nearby towns.  He had taken
one look at Matt and ordered him to go home and sleep before he got himself, or
someone else, killed.

For
once, the dreams left Matt alone and he woke, stomach growling.  Late morning light
streamed across the bed, and Matt absently remembered that he had to get to
work on the storm shutters and finish weatherproofing the house before the
first snows.  He lay back in bed, scratching his stomach, and let his mind drift,
filled with images of fires and of an anxious Adam Mallow.  Someone was working
overtime to make everyone point fingers in his direction, but Matt was starting
to think it was a little too easy.  And Grace would never buy it.  She had
faith in the kid.

Grace.

All
concerns over the fires fled as Matt pondered the woman who wouldn’t get
involved with him because she thought they were sexually wrong for each other.

Hell,
she’s one-hundred percent right about that.  But –

Part
of what terrified Matt, thinking back on Grace’s mind-blowing confession, was that,
beyond his knee-jerk horror at her revelations, he was interested.  He was
more
than interested.  His entire adult life, Matt had avoided even the hint of
anything kinky or extreme in his sexual partners, too afraid of what that kind
of relationship might unleash in him. 

But
with Grace –

For
Grace –

It
was tempting.

Cautiously,
Matt let himself consider the possibilities.  After all, domination and
submission was mostly about fantasy, right?  Could he do it?  Could he indulge
in her fantasies, talk a little dirty, maybe push his own boundaries a little
without losing control?  If the alternative was Grace moving on to someone
else, Matt quickly realized that he was willing to take the risk.  The thought
of Grace with another man had Matt scowling.  He was sure there were plenty of
jerks that would give up one of their nuts to have Grace under them, submitting
to their every sexual whim, arching that gorgeous body up for their pleasure. 
They’d never be able to give her what he could – a real relationship instead of
just a quick fuck.

But
she doesn’t want that.

Pushing
away that train of thought, Matt propelled himself up and into the shower, glad
he’d finally gotten the water running properly.  His brain wouldn’t let it go
as hot water rained down.  Grace didn’t want a relationship, but what if she
was just scared, like he was?  He wouldn’t be surprised – a woman so used to
being scorned by the town would surely have a problem trusting someone with
anything more than her body.  But that was the part he was worried about –
intimacy didn’t scare him.

How
far could he go?  Could he talk dirty to her?  That shouldn’t be a problem –
he’d been fueling his fantasies with erotic wordplay for months.  And tying her
up didn’t seem all that scary – as long as he was careful and made sure that
the restraints didn’t chafe her delicate skin.  Toys?  Maybe he could handle a
few toys.  Beyond that – well, that was another story.

Fear
skittered along his skin and he turned the hot water up.

I
can’t let her go,
he
acknowledged to himself.

“Whatever
it takes,” he muttered, and felt grimly amused – in order to win the heart of
the girl of his dreams, he was going to have to treat her body like a sexual
plaything.  He groaned, thinking about it, and blood pooled in his groin,
filling his cock to astounding hardness.  Matt wrapped fingers around the
throbbing length, stroking firmly as he thought about Grace, her head thrown
back in ecstasy as she rode him, that long violet hair teasing his thighs, her
nipples peaked and her whole body flushed rosy with pleasure as she took every
inch, her pussy gloving his cock like she was made just for him.

Hell,
yes,
he thought, and came into his hand.

 

GRACE
LEANED ON the main desk and ignored Dreyer Morton, who was busy pretending to
ignore
her
as he scanned the New Releases.  His disapproval was
tangible, even from across the room, and he wasn’t the only one.  Skeptical and
scornful eyes darted her way from all of her customers this morning, except the
kids, because, well, kids were awesome and didn’t care.  Grace was surprised to
find that she felt a little hurt – she’d been Head Librarian for years, and
though she was used to the stares and occasional murmurs that seemed to follow
her around, this felt…different.  Wrong.  Everyone assumed that Adam’s return
to town and the rash of fires was
not
a coincidence, and nothing she
could say would change their minds.

Fiona
dropped a stack of books to return on the desk in front of her, snapping her
out of her reverie.

“We’re
going out tonight,” she said.

“Thanks,
but I think I should just stay home,” sighed Grace.

And
start preparing for the torches and pitchforks.

“And
let those jackasses think you’re hiding from them?  Since when do you care what
they think?”

“I
don’t.  But I hate that they’re so quick to judge.”

“Then
show them that everything is fine.  Come on.  We’ll stay in town, go to
Clark’s, have a burger and a couple of drinks with Evie.  She thinks you hate
her, FYI.”

“I
don’t hate her,” Grace grumbled.

“She’s
just doing her job,” Fiona pointed out.

“I
know,” muttered Grace, but pouted as she started checking in books.

“Come
on, it’ll be fun.  I’ll let you tell me every little detail of how hot Matt
Harris looks without a shirt.”

“I
already told you, and that was a mistake.”

“I
wasn’t really paying attention,” grinned Fiona, “Tell me again.  Slowly, this
time.”

The
whole story had poured out of Grace that morning before they opened for the
day, and the young woman had been baffled by Matt’s reaction.

“There’s
something weird there.  You’re like, stupid hot, and what guy is going to pass
up a chance to have you as a boot-licking sex slave?” she’d asked as Grace
glared.

“You
know that is
not
what I’m into, Fiona Morton.  And he’s not weird.  He’s
a normal, stand-up guy who wants a wife, two-point-five children and a dog, not
velvet handcuffs and crotchless leather harnesses.”

“If
you say so.”

Fiona
had let the matter drop, but her eyes twinkled as she walked away, shaking her
head.  Now she smiled at her friend, and Grace sighed, giving up.

“Fine,
but you’re buying.”

“Yay.”

Fiona’s
grin dropped abruptly as Dreyer stepped up to the main desk.

“Fiona,”
he greeted her, still ignoring Grace.

“Hi,
Grampa,” said Fiona, smoothing her skirt, “What brings you by?”

“I
just wanted to inform you that your mother and her husband have decided to
grace us with their presence for Sunday dinner.  I was hoping you’d join us as
well.”

Grace
winced at the glint of anger in Fiona’s eyes.  It was no secret that Dreyer
despised Cal Iverson, who owned the local hardware store and had married
Dreyer’s daughter Althea after she had finally worked up the courage to divorce
her no-good womanizing husband.  It wasn’t the interracial marriage that
bothered him, but rather the fact that Cal was content being a small business
owner instead of a hungry corporate ladder-climber.  Fiona, on the other hand,
loved him.  Cal and Althea were deliriously happy, and Cal lavished all the
love on Fiona and her younger sister that their father had never bothered with.

“I’ll
have to check my calendar, but that should be fine,” said Fiona.

With
a nod, Dreyer started for the exit, carrying the gold-tipped cane that he had
no real use for except as a status symbol.

“You
know, the fact that he invited your mom is kind of an olive branch,” offered
Grace, “and how bad could it be with your aunts and uncles and cousins there,
right?”

“He
probably just wants to lecture me about hanging out with you,” groused Fiona,
“and I know he’s still pissed at Mom over Colin.”

Before
marrying Cal the previous year, Althea had had a brief affair with Colin
Daniels, but it was hardly a scandal.  Until Evie came along, their charming
and handsome mayor had a tendency to get around.  Still, it nettled Dreyer, who
couldn’t let it go.

“Ugh. 
Now I definitely need that drink,” said Fiona, with an irritated shake.

 

MATT
PARKED OUTSIDE OF Clark’s Bar & Grill, scanning the hills for signs of
fire.  For the first time in days, there was no telltale smoke lingering in the
air as the sun went down, though the department was still on high alert.  A
quick call to Sheriff Tony confirmed no new information – just a hell of a lot
of suspicion aimed at Adam Mallow.  He hoped the kid had the sense to stay out
of trouble.

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