Safe From the Fire (21 page)

DESPITE
THE STRESS THAT swirled around Bright’s Ferry, causing residents to look at
each other with suspicion, keeping tempers short, Matt couldn’t help whistling
as he headed for Mary’s diner.  The sun was shining, Halloween was just around the
corner, and this morning he’d woken up with Grace Mallow draped over him like a
blanket, dressed in his shirt.  He’d kissed her awake, made delightfully
slippery love to her in the shower, and then bundled her off to work amid grumbles
over his lack of real food and coffee in the house.  Promising to rectify the
situation immediately, he’d kissed her in full view of half a dozen library
patrons and grinned at her flustered state.

“Be
right back, sweetheart.”

Last
night had been everything Matt could have wanted from Grace, except for one
thing, and that little black cloud threatened to derail his perfect morning –
he
couldn’t tell her how he felt.
  Matt was sure she could see it in his face,
and he caught glimpses of emotion from her, but anytime he couched their
relationship in terms other than sex, she tensed up.  She didn’t like being
seen as “together” in public, still sure she was going to ruin him somehow. 
She had some pretty serious hangups, but Matt was fairly certain he was falling
in love with her.

They
were going to have to talk.

That
wouldn’t go well, Matt was certain, but he couldn’t put it off forever.  Until
then, however, he would just sneak in hearts and flowers and tenderness where
he could, and do his best to satisfy her more extreme side.

Poor
me.

He
grinned to himself as he pushed the door of the diner open.  That side of Grace
was becoming easier for him to handle every time they tried it.  With each
naughty interlude, he felt more confident in himself that he could be what she
needed without hurting her.

As
long as it doesn’t go too far,
he amended, and ordered a couple of
breakfast sandwiches and two coffees to go.

While
he waited, he noticed Darryl Lansky sitting in the corner of the diner,
watching him from over his newspaper.

“Hi
Darryl,” he said, approaching the table.

“Mr.
Harris,” responded Darryl in frigid tones, “I heard you were working with the
Sheriff on this fire thing.  I suppose that means you’re the reason Deputy
Asher called me yesterday demanding a list of my employees?”

“Four
of the buildings that burned had either been built or renovated by Lansky
Construction.  We’re just being thorough.”

Darryl
snorted and folded his paper.

“There’s
only ever been one firebrand in this town, and that’s Adam Mallow.”

Matt
could feel the anger rising, and put a lid on it.

“We’re
investigating every angle, Darryl,” he said smoothly, “And along those lines,
would you like to tell me why your brother visited all the crime scenes
yesterday?”

Darryl
stiffened.

“I
don’t like what you’re implying.”

“I’m
not implying anything.  I’m asking.”

“Russell
had nothing to do with this.  The Mallows have been a blight on this community
for years, Mr. Harris, and the sooner you realize that, the sooner the good
people of Bright’s Ferry can sleep soundly again.”

He
stomped away, which was lucky for him, because Matt was seething, angry and
frustrated and if he had to look at Darryl’s cold-fish face for one more
minute, he would have put a fist through his teeth.

Matt
took a few deep breaths and counted, pulling himself together.  He managed a
smile for Mary as he accepted the bag and the coffees and headed out into Main
Square.

Halfway
toward the library, he heard the wail of a toddler and a frustrated female,
“Shit,”
drifting up from the opposite side of a silver minivan.  Peering around, he
saw Millicent Grayson struggling to juggle her son Lloyd and the instructions
for changing a tire.  The front tire was flat as a pancake.  Lloyd was clearly
not happy with the situation, but Millie looked ready to cry herself.

Matt
set the bag and coffees on the curb and came around the side.

“Need
a hand?”

“Oh
God, yes.  Thank you, Matt.  I was about to call Pete, but my cell phone died.”

Pete
Jackson ran the local garage, but there was no point in calling him out here
for just a flat tire.

“Don’t
sweat it.  I can change a tire.”

He
tickled Lloyd under the chin and after a moment where the little boy sized up
the newcomer, was rewarded with a watery smile.

“He
likes you,” said Millie.

“He’s
a cute little guy,” Matt responded, feeling a pang for Millie, who had lost her
husband in a fishing accident and had just gotten over a nearly disastrous
crush on Colin Daniels.

As
he pulled out the spare tire, Matt wondered if Grace wanted children.  She was
certainly good with them, and their outpouring of affection for the librarian
probably went a long way to soothe the sting of their parents’ irrational
dislike.

The
tire was swiftly dealt with, and Millicent’s thanks was effusive.

“Are
you sure I can’t pay you?”

“Please,
don’t.  I’m happy to help.”

She
bounced Lloyd on her hip, and the movement caused her purse to slip, scattering
lipstick and wallet.

“Oh
crap.  Would you mind holding him for a minute?”

She
thrust the squirming little body at him, and Matt was amazed at the life
contained in this plump little form, feeling his heart quake as the boy curled
trustingly into him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Millie
retrieved her things and then impulsively stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to
the corner of his mouth.

“You’re
a lifesaver, thanks.”

GRACE
TRIED TO TELL herself that she wasn’t the kind of shrewish bitch that freaked
out any time another woman stepped close to her man, but what she was feeling
vaguely resembled jealous rage.  It wasn’t that Matt had stopped to help her
with the tire, or that Millie had kissed him.  It was the look on his face as
he held Lloyd and accepted the easy affection from the mousy waitress that sent
Grace off the deep end.

At
his core, this is what he wants
, she thought.

Family,
a normal life, a nice young woman who drives a silver minivan.

It
all clicked into place for her.  No one in town would blink if Matt escorted
Millie Grayson to dinner, if he dated her, if he married her.  They wouldn’t
worry that he was being corrupted or wonder why he didn’t arrest his
girlfriend’s brother for arson.  Someone like Millie would probably never make
him look bad or ask to be dominated or push him for anal sex.  If she really
wanted him to be happy, she’d let him have that life.

“Hey,
I was just coming over.  Sorry, breakfast might be a little cold.”

“That’s
okay, I’m not hungry,” replied Grace, swallowing the lump in her throat as Matt
handed Lloyd back to Millie.

She
turned around to walk away and had only gone half a block before Matt caught
her arm.

“What’s
wrong?”

Grace
pulled her arm away.  There were people in the square.

“Nothing.”

Push
him away.

“Millie’s
a sweetheart.  Now that she’s not hung up on Colin anymore, maybe you should
ask her out.”

Matt
looked uncertain, and not at all pleased.

“Why
would I ask her out?”

“She
seems to want all the same things you want,” Grace shrugged, her tone
deliberately light.

“She
doesn’t know a damn thing about what I want, and I’m beginning to think you
don’t either,” growled Matt.

“Keep
your voice down,” Grace urged, looking around, “Look, I don’t want to fight. 
I’m just saying that you have options.  And I do, too.”

“Thanks
for letting me know,” said Matt, clearly pissed.

“I
have to get back to work.”

She
knew there were tears swimming in her eyes, but she’d let herself get lured in
this far – it was only going to be harder and harder to leave if she let it
continue.  Grace pushed back memories of the night and morning they’d shared –
terrifying in terms of intimacy, but impossible to forget. 

Grace
looked around the square.  A handful of people had turned their way, pretending
not to watch, not to eavesdrop.  Suddenly, she was sick of it.  And if she had
to watch Matt move on to another woman, her heart was going to crumble into
dust.  Maybe it was time to leave after all.

“We
need to talk.  I’ll come by later,” said Matt.

“I
don’t think that’s a good idea.  What do we really have, right?  A few nights
of good sex.  Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Grace
– ”  The horror in his voice nearly had her crumbling, and she hurriedly
continued, “I’m – I think it may be time for Adam and I to leave Bright’s
Ferry.  We don’t belong here anymore.”

And
with that little bomb, she turned and fled back toward the library, ignoring
the warring inner voices ripping her apart as she left Matt standing in shock
on the corner of Main Square.

But
he’s mine,
her heart insisted.

No
he’s not,
her head replied.

HE
WATCHED GRACE MALLOW walk away, and then he watched Matt Harris pick up a trash
can and
hurl
it across the street to crunch into a telephone pole, the
very picture of an angry Viking god.

Whatever
she’d said to him had caused this.

He
knew Matt was a goody-goody, and everyone’s hero, but he hadn’t known that this
fire lurked within – something frightening and dark and unpredictable.  It was
news to everyone else as well, and he could already see the locals who had
witnessed the event hurrying to share with their neighbors.  By evening, Matt’s
outburst at the hands of Grace Mallow would be the talk of the town.

There
was still a problem.

He
thought he’d covered his tracks so well, but if Matt kept poking around where
he wasn’t wanted, something would have to be done.

The
smell of a fireplace in the air had blood pooling in his groin, seductive and
earthy and hot.  Fire was such a useful tool – it wiped away mistakes and
destroyed evidence and had the power to ruin lives.

Watching
Matt storm away, he wondered if maybe he wasn’t done after all.

GRACE
WAS RELIEVED THAT Adam’s pain meds had completely knocked him out by the time
she got home from work.  She didn’t want to talk to anyone.  She didn’t want to
explain.  She didn’t want to think.  She’d take a bath, make some dinner, and
then sit down and maybe start making a list of places where she and Adam could
make a new start.  Just the thought had her heart clenching.

The
front door opened and Matt stepped inside.

“You
need to fix this lock, Grace.”

“I
told you, I don’t want to talk,” scowled Grace, moving to usher him out.

“Who
says I’m here to talk?” countered Matt, and yanked her to him, his mouth coming
down hard on hers,

No
apologies, no hesitance, just his mouth demanding a response.  Grace clenched
her fingers in his shirt and held on.  How could she push him away when she
wanted to devour him in decadent, greedy bites?

“We’re
just having sex.  That was the deal.”

He
cupped her through the black lace of her skirt and she moaned.

“Are
you going to kick me out?”

He
moved her palm to his cock, pressing into her, and she shook her head, eyes
wide.  This was the Matt she’d been longing for, the dark-edged giant who knew
precisely what she wanted and how to give it to her.  Perversely, she missed
the tenderness, but if this was all she could have of him before she left…

Her
train of thought derailed as he lifted her into his arms and marched upstairs,
sparing a glance at Adam’s door down the hall, before setting her down in the
bedroom and locking the door behind them.

MATT
WAS A ROILING storm of anger and frustration – he had been all day.  Grace’s
attempts to push him away for his own good had pissed him off, but her
declaration about leaving Bright’s Ferry had scared him.  Something menacing
and awful rose in him as he thought about life without Grace.

No.

And
if he had to use her darkest desires against her to anchor her to his side,
that’s what he would do.

Setting
her down in the middle of the room, Matt unfastened his jeans and pulled his
shirt over his head, toeing off his shoes before unzipping to lift out his cock
and the heavy sac beneath.  He was surprised to find that he enjoyed the bite
of the open zipper framing his flesh, and he certainly enjoyed the way Grace
was looking at him.  Lust slapped him hard and his cock twitched as she licked
her lips.