Hot Lava

by Anne Conley

  Finding her friend in the midst of showing off wedding gowns to a bride and her mother, Katie caught Vivian’s eye apologetically.

  “Vivian, I need help.” She hated to interrupt a sale, but Vivian took it in stride. She nodded and continued pulling dresses off a rack.

  “These are all her size but various styles. Since you guys are in the preliminary stages, let’s pick a style first. With her lovely neck and shoulders, I think an off-the-shoulder style would be beautiful, but let’s just see what’s fabulous, shall we?” She ushered the women into a fitting room, her sales persona in full force. That never ceased to amaze Katie. Vivian was sort of a prude, soft spoken and very conservative, but when she was selling, she was vibrant and off-the-charts bubbly. It was astounding.

  When she had her friend relatively alone, she broke down. “Logan believes Walter’s been setting all these fires. How could he think that? He accused me of taking sides,” Katie whispered feverishly, trying not to disturb customers but needing her friend more. “And now Walter’s been arrested.”

  Her voice got shriller and was a weird croaky, shrieky whisper. She didn’t sound human, and even Vivian flinched a little bit.

  “Breathe, Katie.” Vivian’s voice was reassuring, calm, and soothed Katie’s nerves somewhat. “I can’t come over tonight, Carly has a thing at school, but let’s do this. Tonight, you concentrate on you because there’s nothing you can do for Walter. He’ll probably have fun in jail and make all sorts of friends, and you know it.”

  Okay, this was Vivian’s wishful thinking. Walter was awkward with new people under the perfect circumstances, and he wouldn’t be making friends in jail. Katie nodded, though, allowing Vivian’s words to pierce her freak out.

  “Tomorrow night, when Walter’s home, I’ll bring the girls over and we’ll make a plan. You’ve had our back so many times, it’s only fair you give us the chance to get yours.”

  This was why Katie had friends. She was good under pressure—always had been—but her pressure had always been business-related, not personal. And this seemed so fucking personal it made her head spin. She hadn’t been able to think beyond the accusatory glare of Logan and the innocent smile of Walter. She was too close to everything and needed some perspective.

  “Call me later after you are calm and tell me everything, okay?” Vivian came in for a hug and squeezed her tightly. It felt good after the brush against Logan that had left her so cold. Vivian’s vitality imparted a warmth Katie didn’t understand but was grateful for.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Katie and Walter sat on the floor in front of the coffee table some interior designer had placed with the corners perfectly aligned with the overstuffed sofa. Katie’s mom had her come in a couple of years ago and make the home more “kid-friendly,” even though they were old enough to rarely use the den for fear of messing up the white leather furnishing it used to hold. But the designer had filled it with colorful, washable fabrics, regardless that by the time the effort had been made, Walter was beyond the spilling-Kool-Aid years.

  But whatever. Now they actually used the den.

  Her friends were here, too, having a brainstorming session. Katie was learning everything she could about the fires from the girlfriends of the men who had helped fight them. She and Walter were working up a timeline and alibis, as the lawyer had instructed, and Annette, Lettie, and Vivian were helping.

  Since the arsons were part of an ongoing investigation, none of them had any “official” information. They were working with gossip only, things they’d overheard, but in Pamona Gulch, gossip was as good as gold. It was also Katie’s worst nightmare. Her stomach clenched, and she had the undeniable need to pee every time she thought about it.

  Katie had her laptop out, as well as her store appointment book, and was scrolling through the online newspaper, such as it was. The lawyer had given them dates of fires Walter was accused of setting. Their job was to figure out what Walter was doing when they’d happened.

  “Okay, when was the first one?” She opened another file in her computer and started making notes.

  “Was it that office building last winter?” Annette reached for a cookie from the platter Vivian had brought.

  “I think so,” Vivian mused, straightening the cookies on the platter so the empty spot Annette had made didn’t show. To be a brat, Katie grinned at Vivian and took two more, making a bigger empty space. Vivian rolled her eyes.

  Katie passed the cookies to Walter, who stuffed one in his mouth and nodded to Viv in thanks. Katie searched the newspaper site for articles pertaining to that fire, trying to find an exact date.

  “Wasn’t all this done with appliances? Like, filling coffee pots with gasoline and plugging them into something to make a spark and explosion?” Lettie took a sip from her mug of hot tea.

  “Yes, it was.” Annette rose to go to the bar behind the couch. “I overheard Jude talking to Logan about that. They were saying in some instances a generator would be necessary because the arsonist needed something to plug into to create the spark. Some of the fire scenes didn’t have an actual plug available, like the one behind Lettie’s shelter.”

  “That’s why they think it’s me. The generator on my truck.” Walter was despondent sitting next to Katie, and she rubbed his arm and passed him another cookie. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to be a firefighter after this? If I’m accused of arson, will they ever let me go to the academy?”

  “They can accuse you of whatever they want to, but it doesn’t mean you did it. Once we get this sorted, your record should be cleared.” Katie hoped. God, she hoped.

  “Okay, so last weekend and the one in the restaurant downtown … those were arsons, yes?” Annette came back to the sofa and pointed to Katie’s screen.

  “Yeah, and the one behind the animal shelter. That was another one,” Lettie said, leaning back into the corner of the sofa and curling her legs under her.

  Katie typed furiously, trying to keep up.

  Looking at the rough timeline and comparing it to her planner and the dates the lawyer had given her, a cold dread crept over Katie.

  “Walter, most of these recent ones happened while you and the boys were spending the night someplace, either Brant’s or Ryder’s. Are you sure you didn’t loan your truck or something like that?”

  His eyes shifted as he pulled out his phone and started tapping intently.

  “What aren’t you telling me? This is important.” For the first time since Logan had come into her shop yesterday, Katie felt a sense of rightness, like the answer was there, but Walter wasn’t cooperating. Was he seriously going to willingly take the fall for someone else? He totally looked like he had just thought of something.

  Walter shrugged. “Brant used my truck a couple of times.”

  “Oh my God. Did Brant do this?” Annette suddenly pushed herself up on the couch to lean forward and look into Walter’s eyes.

  “I don’t think any of us would do this, but he had a girlfriend his parents wouldn’t let him see because she was older.” Katie stifled a scoff at Walter’s explanation. “They broke up, and he’s borrowed it since then to try to get back together with her. I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right though. He wouldn’t set all these fires.”

  Katie didn’t know about all that, but it gave them something to go on.

  At least her friends were giving Walter the benefit of the doubt. They may not believe whole-heartedly in his innocence like Katie did, but they weren’t accusatory like Logan had been. She didn’t even want to ask if they were going against their men to give her support. She didn’t want to think everyone was as black and white as Logan.

  Thinking of him in these terms hurt Katie. Why couldn’t he even have asked some questions before jumping to conclusions about Walter? Why did he have to order her to turn him in? He had treated her like a sex toy who couldn�
��t think on her own, not like the independent female she knew herself to be.

  It was infuriating. As much as she loved him, if that’s how he was going to treat her, it wasn’t worth it. Because that meant he would treat Walter the same way. In fact, he was doing it. And that hurt.

  “Where’s Brant now?” Lettie asked as Katie drifted off into thoughts of Logan and didn’t hear Walter’s answer.

  She wanted something real with Logan, always had. Sure, the sex was amazing and exactly what she needed from a man, but she wanted everything with him. She wanted the mornings in bed, the movie times, the dinners. She wanted to feel like she was a part of a mutually beneficial relationship. Her goal in life was not to be someone’s plaything, only following their orders. She could run a business, a home, and raise a teenager, although that last one was clearly debatable. But she wanted to be treated like a capable human being, not a child. She wanted the support that came with a relationship.

  She’d honestly thought Logan was the one who would command her body in the bedroom and respect her as a person the rest of the time. Apparently, she was wrong, and it would take a while to get over that.

  If ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Two days later, after tossing and turning all night long—like she had since Walter’s arrest—Katie was in the shop. It was a slow sales day—Mondays were never great for her—so she was working on her window, trying desperately to get in the right headspace to help Walter. She’d done all the preliminary work the lawyer had asked for, gotten him out on bail, and managed to get a lawyer her parents weren’t familiar with.

  She didn’t want them to know about all of this and really hoped to have it dealt with by the next time she saw them.

  Katie was in the window stringing lights on the wrought iron headboard she’d bought just for this occasion. It was pretty, and she might be able to use it in some non-kinky displays sometime in the future. She’d put the lettering up on the wall already—”Ho, Ho, Ho … Have a Kinky Christmas”—and had the box of assorted toys to spread on the bed after the lights and garland were strung.

  The bell over her door went off, and when Katie looked, it was Pam, Brant’s mom. She had been on her list of people to call after work, so she was glad to see her, knowing exactly why the woman was here.

  “Hey there! Did you have a nice weekend? Didn’t you go to Cloudcroft? How was it?” Pam had been out of town with Brant when all of this went down, so she might not even know about Walter.

  “Yes. It’s where Brant’s dad lives now. We went for a visit, and I did some shopping. I have no idea why he moved there. It’s just like here, only hours away. I guess he really hates me that much.”

  Katie made a sympathetic noise but didn’t want to talk about Pam’s divorce. It had happened a year ago, and Doug had moved away. That’s when Pam had come up with the idea of the rotating weekends, and it had seemed like a great idea at the time, especially to give her time to grieve the loss of her marriage and give Brant a new normal. But the timing of it was why Katie wanted to question the woman.

  “Before you say anything, Katie, I know exactly what you’re thinking.” Katie’s mouth snapped shut because she’d been just about to accuse Pam’s son of the fires. “I’m suspicious too. Especially after last night. He got a bunch of texts after dinner and suddenly decided to move in with his dad. I think Brant had something to do with what Walter’s involved in.”

  “Walter’s not involved in this, Pam.”

  Pam nodded and dropped her gaze. “I know,” she whispered. “I think it was Brant who did all this.”

  Katie couldn’t speak to the woman. Rage filled her veins, and it was a foreign feeling. Pam was letting Katie’s little brother take the fall for something her son had done. Katie reached for the plug and squeezed herself through the bars of the headboard to plug in the Christmas lights.

  “What are you going to do?” She couldn’t see Pam as she spoke because she was afraid she’d start beating her with the quirt in the box next to her if she looked at the woman.

  Instead, Katie let out a rueful laugh as she stretched. “Figure out who the hell actually did this.” Katie leaned forward a bit more, trying to hide the look on her face from Pam because the woman had just admitted she suspected her own son. Extending her arm until it popped, Katie could almost reach the plug. Stretching, she twisted her shoulders and managed to get it in. Bright lights filled the area, and she tried to back up.

  Nope. That didn’t work.

  She twisted the other way and only managed to wedge herself further. “Uh, Pam? I’m stuck. Can you help me?”

  Pam came into the small space and climbed over her body, trying to pull apart the bars where her head was stuck. It was futile. Wrought iron wasn’t that flimsy, and the two women couldn’t get Katie out.

  “I’m going to need help.”

  “Do you have any butter or oil?”

  “I do have a shelf of lube next to the register.” She had been planning on putting it someplace more discreet when she got her toy display up. For the moment, though, she was glad for the easy directions as Pam hopped off her and went to get a couple of bottles.

  Twenty minutes later, Katie was in tears, covered in lube, hair sticking up every which way, and still stuck. She had to admit defeat. She was on all fours, ass up in the air, and completely and utterly helpless.

  “Call someone. I can’t get out,” she admitted with a sigh. Pam had been suggesting this for the last ten minutes, and Katie suspected she already had their number dialed in her phone because she was talking to someone about Katie’s situation ten seconds later.

  “Um, they’re on the way. If you don’t mind, I’m going to slip out and call a lawyer about Brant. Again, I’m really sorry about all this.”

  Katie couldn’t see her face and was too mortified about everything to even care, so she didn’t respond. She heard the bell tinkle as Pam left, and she struggled against the headboard that held her captive.

  It didn’t take long for the bell to tinkle again and a decidedly masculine voice to say, “Hello? Katie?”

  “I’m in the window. It’s the door next to you.”

  The door opened a little wider, and Zane and Logan stood there, dressed in navy-blue Dickies and long-sleeved t-shirts that proudly displayed the PGFD emblem.

  Perfect.

  Zane wore a smirk on his face as if he knew something Katie didn’t, but Logan just stared at her, eyes wide. Eventually, his expression turned to one of concentration as he muttered to Logan. “You work the saw and get her head out. I’ll protect her head and hands.”

  They were going to use a saw to get her out? Her perfect garage sale find would be ruined, but she put it out of her mind. Katie was stuck. Logan was getting her unstuck. She would handle the emotional ramifications of all this later. Right now, Katie concentrated on blanking her mind. She didn’t want him to touch her, much less whatever he was about to do. Based on the heat she felt in her head, she knew she was flushed beet-red. Of course, the position didn’t help either, so she sat there silently while the men took position—Jude in front of her, Logan behind.

  Logan could not believe what this woman did to him. He’d never been turned on from a call before, no matter the situation, and he’d gotten plenty of women out of compromising positions before.

  Nope.

  Katie’s ass was in the air, her skirt riding up to show off smooth expanses of skin on her thighs decorated with lace-topped thigh-high stockings. She was held captive by the headboard, and the mattress was covered with implements of bondage and pain. Her aphrodisiac.

  His dick was hard enough to saw though this headboard on its own.

  Climbing behind her on the little half-mattress used in department store displays, Logan crouched over her to protect her hands while Zane worked the equipment to cut her loose.
It wasn’t professional, and he wouldn’t have done it with any other woman this way, but this was Katie, and for some reason, he couldn’t resist.

  “What is in your hair?” he managed to croak out. He was still pissed at her for not listening to him about Walter, but the erection wasn’t. It was pleasantly wedged up against her ass.

  “Lube. I tried to use that to get unstuck.”

  He stifled his chuckle, but Zane didn’t. He was grinning widely now, and Logan had the sudden urge to punch his friend.

  Logan knew Katie had to feel the erection pressed against her ass as he covered her hands with his gloved ones. He also knew she could feel his breath in her ear as he tried to twist her head away from the sparks flying off the saw Zane was using. The way he was right now, if anything got cut, it would be his arm shielding her delicate neck.

  All thoughts of her brother being the arsonist fled while he held his woman in his arms, aching to be naked. He cradled her while Zane worked, his breathing ragged as she trembled under him. Her curves molded to his, and if he weren’t mistaken, she was pressing against his cock.

  He had to think about something else or he would be the laughing stock of the firehouse.

  “How did you get stuck?” he asked lamely. It was obvious she’d been reaching for something.

  “I was plugging in the lights to see what needed to be adjusted.”

  His cock. His cock needed adjusting. His pelvis did an involuntary swivel, and she whimpered.

  “All done,” Zane announced, and Katie was suddenly free. Logan pulled her body out and back, and she was suddenly sitting in his lap.

  His hands still covered hers, and he crossed them in front of her as he wrapped his arms around her. God, she felt good. On his lap. In his arms. He tightened his hands on hers, not letting her go as he kept his head in the crook of her neck.