Safe From the Fire (7 page)

“You’ve
got it, Chief,” said Matt. 

He
didn’t need the added pressure, but he’d never had any intention of doing
anything but his very best.  The fires were probably accidental, but if they
weren’t... Matt frowned, feeling anger wash over him that anyone would
deliberately set a fire here.  Not in
his
town.  Not if he could help
it.

FEELING
REFRESHED AFTER A long nap, Grace opened the door to Fiona, who thrust an
enormous garment bag into her arms.

“I
don’t see why you have to borrow something.  I thought you owned every outfit
under the sun.”

“For
a night out at a club or for work.  I don’t own anything that’s appropriate for
a date with Matt Harris.”

Fiona
rolled her eyes and followed her up to her bedroom, peeking in the guest room
with curious eyes.

“Where’s
your hottie brother?”

“Hands
off.  I lent him my car to go across the bay and get a cell phone.”

Grace
glared at Fiona, who just grinned.

“Probably
a good idea to get him out of town for a day or so.  People just can’t shut up
about the fires.  You’d think there was a maniac on the loose,” she said,
shrugging dismissively.

“Anything
I need to know about?” asked Grace, sorting through the dresses Fiona had
brought, holding one or two up for closer inspection.

“Nope. 
I closed early and told everyone that we were a library, not gossip central,
and they could go to Mary’s if they wanted to chatter on and on.  Adam’s name
may have come up a time or two, but you know how it is.”

“They’re
all so fucking judgmental,” fumed Grace.

Fiona
pawed through Grace’s closet, pulling out a black lace shift dress in a cobweb
pattern that she held up to her body.

“What
happened to, ‘Fuck ‘em all, I don’t care and I’m going to dress how I want to
dress’ Grace?” she asked, re-hanging the dress and continuing her rummage.

Grace
smoothed the folds of a simple gray dress.

“I
don’t care.  Matt does.  He’s going to realize pretty quickly that this was a
bad idea, but that doesn’t mean that I want him embarrassed in front of his
friends.  The least I can do is look relatively normal.”

“Do
you really think he would have asked you out if he had a problem with how you
look?” asked Fiona, but Grace ignored her and held up a demure cocktail dress
in green.

“How
about this one?  Not too crazy, right?”

Fiona’s
eyes twinkled.

“Go
for it. I was planning to get rid of all of these, so no worries if he wants to
rip it off you with his teeth.”

“Not
helping,” Grace muttered as Fiona giggled.

MATT
STEPPED UP TO Grace’s house, nerves playing ping pong in his stomach.  Now that
the evening was here, he wasn’t sure he was ready.  He wanted to be careful,
not scare her away, so he rejected a formal suit and pricey dinner at
La
Sirena
across the bay and instead showed up at her door in clean jeans, a
pressed white shirt, and a simple gray blazer.  He’d take her someplace nice,
but close, and then maybe a drive.

Then
maybe more…

Matt
shut down that line of thought with a decisive mental shove.  This evening was
about one thing – convincing Grace to give him a second date.  And a third. 
And a fourth.

Behave. 
Be gentle.  Don’t talk about fires.  Don’t talk about Adam. Don’t fall on her
like a ravening beast.

He
rang the bell, awkwardly clutching the purple flowers.  For an anxious moment
this felt like a huge mistake.  Matt knew he’d never feel good enough for her,
but he couldn’t resist.

Suck
it up, man.  Give yourself a chance.

The
door opened and there she was.  Grace smiled at him, a hint of nerves on her
face. 

“Hi,”
she managed.

“Hi.”

She
looked…nice.  The simple green dress was nothing special, though it ended a
couple of inches above her her knee, the flirty skirt showing off her fabulous
legs.  She’d exchanged her glasses for contacts, and her hair had been tamed
into a tight coil pinned to the back of her head.  Matt was a little
disappointed.  He’d been looking forward to “accidentally” brushing his fingers
against it over the course of the evening.  The woman in front of him was a
stranger – not the exotic, rock goddess purple librarian fairy he’d been
obsessing over.

Maybe
this was a mistake after all.

Matt
didn’t understand the change in her, and that put him on guard.  Dumbly, he
thrust the flowers forward.

“You
didn’t have to – how sweet, thank you.”

Flustered,
Grace’s face lit up and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek before burying her
nose in the blooms.  All thoughts of calling it off melted away as her
wildflower perfume slid past his defenses and her warm, pouty lips brushed his
skin.  She was still Grace, no matter what she was wearing, and he still wanted
her more than breath.  He’d have the whole evening to figure out what was going
on with her.

“Let
me get my coat,” she said.

THE
FIREFIGHTER AND THE firebug’s sister left together, clearly on a date.  Harris,
ever the gentleman, opened the door for her and gave her a hand into his SUV. 
She looked almost normal for once.  It was odd, seeing them together, but it
worked in his favor, so he dismissed his sense of unease, discreetly following
them until he could see that he was taking her to the seafood place near the
wharf.

Clear
across town.

Perfect. 
He had things to do, and the last thing he needed was Matt Harris getting in the
way.  By the end of the night, everyone in town would be certain that Adam
Mallow was up to his old tricks, and that distraction would be enough for him
to complete his work, to fix his mistake, and to make things right again.

Then
it would be over.

THIS
IS TORTURE,
GRACE
thought to herself, sipping a glass of wine.  From the moment they’d walked
into the little restaurant overlooking the water, they’d been on display, like
the feature attraction at a circus freak show – a two-headed elephant, perhaps,
or the unfortunate Snake Man.  To his credit, Matt tried to deal with it
graciously, asking waitress Millie Grayson to seat them in a far corner.  Grace
knew without asking that Matt would leave a generous tip – Millie was a recent
widow with a young son, and it hadn’t been easy.

Grace
had no problem ignoring the stares and whispers.  She’d been doing it for
years, but for Matt, it was clearly a new experience, and he was tense and
awkward as they ordered.

“How’s
the house coming?” Grace asked brightly, trying to put him at ease.

Matt
had been building a house in his spare time for the better part of a year now,
doing as much of it as possible with his own two hands.

“It’s
getting there.  I need to finish up a few things before it really gets cold,
and then the rest can wait until the thaw.  Maybe next summer I’ll build a
deck.”

He
smiled, and Grace was momentarily blindsided by the image of Matt in nothing
but low-slung jeans, working on his deck under the hot sun.  She took a long
swallow of wine.

“That’s
great.  I can’t wait to see it.”

“Come
on over sometime, I’ll give you the grand tour.”  He said the words lightly,
but she caught a glimpse of hot blue flame before he lowered his eyes to draw a
pattern on the tablecloth with his fork.

Grace
cleared her throat.

“Actually,
I was wondering if I could borrow a toolkit?  Adam wanted to fix a few things
and was horrified by my lack of proper tool thingies. I figure it’s good for
him to have something to do.”

Matt
considered her carefully, but said only, “Sure, we can stop by my place on the
way home and I’ll get you set up.”

Millie
arrived with their meals and Grace was grateful.  Matt took a look around,
frowning at all the curious eyes.

“This
is crazy,” Matt muttered, “By tomorrow morning they’re going to be arguing over
what we had for dinner.  Doesn’t this bother you?”

“I’ve
gotten used to it,” Grace replied.

The
rest of the meal passed easily enough, and though Matt did his best to engage
her in conversation, asking her about music and the library, and sharing
stories about some of the Fire Department’s more bizarre calls, he seemed
acutely aware of all the eyes on their table.  Grace could sense his unease,
but she could also feel the spark between them whenever his knee brushed hers
under the table.

Can’t
have one without the other,
she thought.

How
depressing.

THE
DRIVE TO MATT’S house was quiet, and Grace sat in the SUV wondering what he was
thinking, but too chicken to ask.  She was kicking herself for having agreed to
this whole night in the first place, and if Matt found out the real reason they
were incompatible, well, that was it.  He seemed stubbornly determined to make things
work out between them, and she had a terrible feeling she was going to have to
tell him the truth, and probably humiliate them both in the process.

It
would help if his scent wasn’t filling the car, his strength and heat just a
foot away, teasing her and filling her with the desire to yank him across the
console and have her way with him on the side of the road.

Dammit.

“Let’s
get that toolkit for Adam and then how about we get some ice cream and head up
to the bluff?  No audience this time, I promise.”

Grace
squirmed in her seat.

“Maybe
we should just…call it a night, Matt,” she said, feeling like a heel.

He
was silent for a long moment, and then, “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

Matt
pulled up to the house and Grace didn’t wait for him to open her door.  Her
eyes widened as she took in the progress on the structure – a beautiful three
stories with a wraparound porch.  It was a house designed for a family, for
children and grandchildren and extended family to fill to the rafters.  She
felt emotion clogging her throat and wondered what, exactly, he saw in her –
she might occasionally wonder about a husband and children, but she wasn’t cut
out for something like this.

“Like
it?” he asked, and she was surprised to find him watching her carefully, as
though waiting for her approval.

“It’s
beautiful,” she said honestly.

He
smiled, and she felt the warmth clear to her toes, even letting him take her
hand to lead her up to the front door.  The interior was clearly a work in
progress, but Grace had no trouble picturing what the place would look like
when completed.  Maybe lavender in the main hallway.  She wondered if Matt liked
purple, absently stepping up on the main staircase, admiring the hand-carved newel
post.

Matt
was still watching her, and came up to lean on the bannister.  The stair gave
Grace extra height, putting them at eye level for once, close enough that she
could feel the heat of his body, see the desire in his face.

Uh-oh.

“I
can’t, Matt,” she whispered.

He
didn’t touch her.

“I
won’t ask for more than you can give, Grace.”

God,
she didn’t deserve him.

“You
saw them tonight.  It’s always going to be like that.  They’re never going to
accept me the way I am.”

“Fuck
them.”  The harsh words were delivered in a voice so seductively gentle, Grace
felt her knees go weak, “They don’t know you.”

“Neither
to do you, Matt.  Not really.”

“But
I want to know you, Grace.”

She
shook her head.

“You
wouldn’t be happy with me.  The things I want, they’re not…normal.  And I don’t
want you to ever look at me like I’m some sort of freak.”

“I’d
never do that.”  His fingers came up to touch her cheek.

“Can’t
you just find some nice girl who likes pastels and reality TV and doesn’t come
branded with the label, ‘inappropriate?’  That’s what you need.  Not me.”

“Why
don’t you let me decide that for myself?  If you really don’t want me, Grace,
that’s one thing, but if you’re just trying to scare me away for my own good,”
He shook his head, “I don’t scare easily.”

Grace
was moving before she even knew what she wanted to do, grabbing a handful of
his shirt and yanking him forward.

You
asked for it,
she thought, determined to teach him a lesson.

Then
her mouth found his and the truth exploded in her brain.  Kissing him had
absolutely
nothing
to do with teaching him a lesson and everything to do
with the fact that she couldn’t help herself any longer.  He was hot and wet
and delicious, and the hint of stubble that rasped her lips as she changed the
angle sent a tingle of pleasure down to her clit.