by Anne Conley
“Shhh.” Jude looked over Logan’s shoulder at someone walking up, as they weren’t to be talking about the arson stuff in public.
“Man, I gotta say, I’m jealous. I was looking to tap that sweet ass, but she was too impatient and ran.”
Logan looked up to see Bonner standing off to his left. Suddenly seeing red, he stood, slow and controlled.
“She didn’t run, dipshit. You had her locked up in your fucking closet. You’re one lucky motherfucker that she doesn’t press charges. Kidnapping’s not a light sentence.” Logan’s hands were cracking with the force of his clenched fists, and his jaw was ticking big time. He could feel it but didn’t care. He wanted this guy to see how mad he was.
“I see how it is. You hear us having a little fun and decide to break down my door?” His face had paled considerably, but his big mouth was one of the reasons Logan hated him. “You must have been jealous.”
Logan saw the man sprawled on the floor, heard the ruckus around him, registered the pain in his hand, and then realized he’d punched the guy in the jaw.
He was being ushered out of the bar when Katie came out of the restroom. That hurt worse than his hand because it was obvious she’d been crying. The pain in her eyes matched the tear streaks on her face, and Logan finally realized this was all about him.
He wanted her but kept pushing her away, and it was hurting her. Guilt raced through his body, even as Buddy, Mo’s husband, gripped his elbow and walked him out the door.
“It’s not worth it, man. Just let it go. Sleep it off.” All the patronizing words in the world wouldn’t help because they were wrong.
She was worth it. And he had fucked it up.
Chapter Thirteen
“This is probably the most important lesson, whether you’re a firefighter or not. If you’re doing this obstacle course, this will probably determine whoever wins, so pay attention.”
Katie was paying close attention, and this time it wasn’t Logan’s body she was staring at. Well, maybe a little, but her punishment last weekend had taught her to listen to the man when he speaks. In fact, she was taking notes, the eager beaver of the class. Walter was listening, along with his buddies, but she was the star pupil.
Not that she thought they would ever do anything together again, but just looking at Logan reminded her of their “friend pact” and the possibility they would interact again in some capacity. She was just covering her bases. After last night at Mo’s, the sting had faded. Thank God for girlfriends. Letting them know what was bothering her had been great therapy.
Currently, Logan was holding up two pieces of metal connected to some hosing. “This is the male fitting of a firehose, and this is the female end. They get these names because the male end goes into the female end.” He paused for the titters from the teenaged boys behind Katie. “When you’re in a burning building, smoke and heat can be disorienting. If you get lost, find a hose.” He put one end down and rubbed the male end, which Katie had to clear her throat for. The way his finger ran over the bumps was entirely too distracting. “The male ends are pointed so you can feel them through gloves. This is how you get out. The male coupling will always be pointed toward the exit, the female, the smooth part, is leading toward the fire.” He paused for effect and looked at the boys with a grin. “If you follow the female, you get burned. Simple.”
Katie tried to look affronted, but it was hopeless. The boys were in a fit of laughter, and she couldn’t help but be amused. Even with the underlying emotions roiling through her, she forced herself to be present for Walter, and the explanation could be sort of funny.
They practiced screwing the couplings together, then they did a test run with some hoses that looked like piles of spaghetti, learning how to go from one end to the other. Then they did it blindfolded.
An hour into it, Katie was watching her brother and his friends as they raced each other to the end of the hose when Jude came and whispered something in Logan’s ear.
Logan’s face went ghostly white.
Something was wrong, and even miffed at Logan, Katie still obeyed her instincts to nurture the man who looked like he was about to pass out.
“What is it?” she asked as she went to him, unable to stop her feet from moving. He needed something. As angry as the man made her, she still wanted to help him. That would probably never change. Even as she studied him, she admitted nobody deserved to look this lost. Logan stood there, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and his hands began to tremble. Katie took one. “What can I do?”
Logan looked into her eyes, and her breath hitched. The pain in his intense, green eyes was real, and she suddenly wanted to do everything for him. He opened his mouth to speak, but it snapped shut as he clenched his fists. His gaze went over her shoulder to the boys behind her.
“Keep practicing. Y’all have another hour, so use it. When you’re finished, put all the couplings back in the giant bag and make sure Hollywood puts them up.” He exhaled hard, and his breath blew across her face in a minty stream. “I have to go to the hospital. Captain Chavez had a stroke.”
She rubbed his arm, a gesture she hoped imparted comfort. He covered her hand with his and squeezed, so she went ahead and did something she’d never thought she would get to do. Ever.
Katie hugged Logan.
He was stiff initially, but after she tightened the embrace, he wrapped his arms around her back and squeezed her in an almost painful hold. The massive hands that had wrung so much pleasure from her body now stroked her back before clutching her and stilling. It was like she tethered him to some reality she wasn’t a part of. Logan dropped his head to her neck and inhaled.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick and congested. She ignored it, squeezing once more before stepping back to examine him.
Katie tried to understand, but she had no idea what to say. Although she wanted to invite him to her house later for pizza and hot cocoa or whatever would comfort him, she said nothing.
As if hearing her silent plea, he nodded and kissed the top of her head before stalking away to jump into his truck and squeal out of the parking lot.
She rubbed her head, feeling the warmth of his kiss, wondering if he even realized he’d done it. It was different from the kiss on her temple last night at Mo’s. This one was one he meant, even as absentminded as it was. Last night, the kiss to her head had been a purposeful illusion of closeness they didn’t share. Today’s kiss had been intimate, a sign he actually cared for her and appreciated her gesture.
Not that she knew what to do with that.
Chapter Fourteen
Logan’s truck screeched to a halt in the hospital’s parking lot, memories of Katie’s body still in his arms. That had knocked him for a loop. He couldn’t remember a woman ever hugging him.
Ever.
Not like that. It had been a touch to impart comfort to him. When she’d stepped into his arms, he honestly had no clue what to do, but instinct had taken over.
His mother had never hugged him. Years on the streets had taught him to provide his own succor. He had never in his life had a woman give him any sort of comfort that wasn’t sexual. In fact, he wondered if this was why he was a Dom.
Now wasn’t the time for self-reflection, and he was too damn old for self-actualization. He was almost forty, dammit, not twenty-four. His only father figure was possibly dying, and here he was thinking about some woman who soothed him.
For fuck’s sake, he needed to get his head on straight and do what he could for Chavez.
Of course, thinking of his friend had his heart racing and all feelings of comfort flying right out his brain.
Jumping out and slamming the door, Logan tried not to panic as he raced inside, but he could only keep himself to a jog as he went to the emergency waiting area. His mind raced. He didn’t know what to do in this foreign situation.
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The captain had been his first training buddy after he’d graduated from the fire academy and gotten his first and last job in Pamona Gulch. Chavez had welcomed the newbie who was older than the rest. At only ten years his senior, Chavez and Logan had struck up an unlikely alliance that lasted even after Chavez’s promotion to Captain.
Chief Marquez was sitting patiently, as if he lived there. Legs crossed on the corner of a plastic sofa, he looked as at home as he did in the fancy leather study Logan had only been in once before at his home.
“Logan, sit.” His authoritative words gave Logan the direction he needed. “He’s doing okay. Paramedics stabilized him on the way here, and he’s going in for surgery within the hour. Nobody knows the extent of the damage, but everyone’s hopeful.” The news didn’t relax Logan at all. His stomach twisted into a giant knot, and the urge to throw up was insane.
“I know this puts things up in the air for you men, but there is a protocol in place.” Marquez was official in his words, but his tone was kind. He had to know the turmoil Logan was feeling. One of the glorious things about working in the fire department was the hierarchy, the rigid command structure. It was one thing to run into a fire willy-nilly, but that’s not how fire departments worked. There was structure, a protocol, so everyone could work together as a team.
And with the leader out of commission, their team had no one to look up to.
“I will be Interim Captain until the City Commissioner can appoint a new one.” Marquez’s stern voice said he didn’t like that idea. “My position goes to the senior firefighter until a new chief can be hired.” He paused, and Logan’s stomach plummeted. “That’s you.”
“Yes, sir.” Logan nodded, bowing his head respectfully under the weight of this new burden.
“However, Chavez and I had an alternate plan in place, one that would alleviate some of the stress from your shoulders. You will split the duties with Jude. Your team will be redistributed. As the two senior lieutenants in the department, you guys have worked here the longest, almost, and both command respect. He will work the shift opposite you. As soon as we know more about Chavez, we can give more details. He looks like he’ll survive, but it is probably likely he won’t be able to fulfill his duties to the same capacity anymore. That means a shift in leadership. I need you to help with the transition, and the captain and I have already discussed you and Jude doing it together.”
Logan was silent as he absorbed the chief’s words.
“Do you think the arsons did this?” Logan broke the silence with the need to fix the problem. He wanted to know what caused the stroke so he could do what he could to make Chavez better. Of course, he’d already done everything in his limited power to stop the arsons. Put out the fires. Teach safety. Be as vocal as he could in the community against it. That was all that was in his power.
Impotence was pungent.
“Probably, but not directly. The stress and pressure have not been easy for anybody, but there’s no way of knowing for sure. All we can do is continue doing what we’re doing. We’re a damn good department, and the investigator and the police will catch the guy.” Marquez said the words with a heavy sigh, imparting the weight of them. Clearly, he felt every bit as useless as Logan.
Chief was who the men came to with immediate problems. He worked with the guys and trained with them. In a department the size of Pamona Gulch, every able hand was necessary to work, so the chief wasn’t a figurehead like in some of the bigger departments.
So Logan would still have his job.
But he wouldn’t have his team.
With Jude working the opposite shift, that would put a different person on his team, and who knew how long the adjustment would take? Of course, after a few training sessions together in the burn house, or doing controlled burns to clear out brush on the mountainside or whatever, they would be a well-oiled machine just like Jude, Joey, Zane, and he had been.
Drinks at Mo’s would take on a different dynamic, though, wouldn’t it?
“I can tell this is giving you some food for thought. Go home and wrap your head around all this. You’ll report for duty tomorrow night.”
Katie’s red curls came back into focus in his brain where they’d gone hazy as he’d come inside the hospital. Her smile. That hug.
“What about the class I’m teaching?”
“We’ll get someone else to cover it. You don’t need the added stress at the moment. We hardly need two stroke victims. You will have enough to do with your new duties.”
Logan knew better than to argue. He stood. “Yes, sir. Does Jude know?”
Marquez nodded. “I called him when I got here. He’s already at the station taking his shift.”
The chief was on shift as much as anyone else, but Marquez alternated shifts between the two, due to budget constraints, and usually worked a double and then took one off. Since their shifts were two days long, Marquez made the big bucks, but nobody wanted to be him.
The ultimate responsibility for each shift rested on his shoulders. He was in charge of making sure the gear was checked and everything was maintained from the hoses to the uniforms to the trucks. He was the first on the scene, doling out duties to the teams. He led the training exercises.
Chief barely slept.
Logan nodded again, giving Marquez a half-hearted salute as he walked off, his mind whirling.
What did this mean for him? If it had been two weeks ago, he’d have jumped all over the opportunity. Chief had never been a role that frightened him. In fact, in Marquez’s off shifts, Logan frequently took over his responsibilities.
But his thoughts about Katie had changed, his priorities shifted. While Marquez had a wife, and rumor had it a girlfriend too, Logan was just getting used to the idea of a girlfriend. Although, they hadn’t even had the “what are we” conversation yet, and it seemed like Katie was mad at him about something. But the fact he wanted to know why she was pissed made him realize he wanted more with her because, for some reason, he fucking cared.
He wasn’t supposed to care. That was his thing. After Jessica, he’d sworn off getting emotionally involved with women. Jessica had been an eye-opening experience for him and the inner workings of a woman.
But after watching Jude, Joey, and Zane all fall in love and get whipped, he could see not all women were like Jessica.
And she had never hugged him.
But then again, Logan had a vivid memory of fishing with Chavez years ago when Chavez had gotten the promotion from Chief to Captain.
“You’re a career guy, right?” Chavez had just cast his line into the water, and instead of reeling it in, he let it float while he leaned back and tilted his ball cap over his eyes.
“Yup. This is my life,” Logan agreed. The Pamona Gulch Fire department had given him someplace to belong. He’d been involved almost ten years now and couldn’t imagine his life anywhere else. That was saying something since he’d actually lived practically everywhere else in the continental U.S. over the course of his lifetime in his wanderings.
“If you continue up the ladder, there’s not much room for happy relationships. Not the standard ones, anyway.” This was probably a dig at the new chief, Marquez, but Logan wasn’t judging. No way. Not the way he liked his women.
He’d just started living his new philosophy of providing a submissive with what she needed. Once. Then he would move on. Logan liked it. The planning. The control of the scene. The zero strings. And most women were okay with it too.
It wasn’t Jessica, and it was amazing. He currently had twelve pairs of panties in his collection, a dozen trophies of his domination, twelve in-depth memories to explore.
And that served him just fine. As long as he had time to go to Albuquerque, Denver, or any other host of cities with a club within driving distance, he was kosher. He could blow off steam, utilize his contro
l, and have his memories with none of the icky attachments.
Which Chavez was telling him wouldn’t work with this line of work anyway. Not if he wanted to work his way up the ladder.
He’d never been particularly inspired in his role of life, but something about Pamona Gulch made him want to stay. He loved the fire department and couldn’t see himself doing anything else, so why wouldn’t he want to move up the ranks and be all he could be?
Because of Katie. Katherine. The fact he wanted her with his entire being right now was fucking with him.
But he also knew she was going home with Walter and the other boys after class, and he couldn’t just stop by and fuck her brains out like he wanted to.
Logan needed to sort out all the things he was thinking. There was his friend and mentor being in the Intensive Care Unit, and he still hadn’t seen him to see with his own eyes he was okay. There was a new job promotion he’d thought he wanted but didn’t know now if he really wanted anymore. Then there was his girlfriend, who didn’t realize she was his girlfriend and was still pissed at him for something he didn’t know but had hugged him and made him feel better anyway.
Chapter Fifteen
Elliot lived with his wife London in the nicer part of town, not far from Katie. Elliot’s nephew, Ryder, was currently at Katie’s house, so Logan hoped he wasn’t interrupting any private time between the two, but he needed to talk to his oldest friend.
Elliot had known Logan longer than anyone else had. He was the only good part of Logan’s formative years, having met the guy at fifteen in a bus stop in El Paso.
“Hey, you all right?” Elliot had opened the door looking rumpled, but not like he was in the middle of sex, for which Logan was grateful.