Heat Exchange (17 page)

But as he tried to drum up her enthusiasm—he was one of those
watch this
and
oh
,
this next part’s cool
kind of people—a part of Lydia’s mind was hung up on Ashley going back to work at the bar the next night.

She wouldn’t leave Boston until Ashley had resolution one way or the other with Danny. Not for the entire process, if it came to divorce, but she’d be there to hold Ashley’s hand when she filed the papers. But if Ashley was feeling strong enough to go back to work, the clock was ticking on her making up her mind about her marriage.

Lydia didn’t want to say anything to Aidan and ruin the mood, but there was a very real possibility she wouldn’t be around to watch the entire season of this show he’d saved to share with her.

* * *

A
LMOST
A
WEEK
LATER
, Lydia took another slice of pizza out of the box and slid it onto her paper plate. “This pizza was worth pissing my dad off for. Every time I have pizza in Concord, I think of this, but I haven’t had it since I got home.”

“How pissed is he?”

She shrugged. “He’s not happy, but what is he going to do? He could cover me for three hours while I had a fake appointment, or I can quit and he can cover Ashley every night until she returns to work.”

Aidan laughed and snagged a third slice for himself. “You’ve pretty much got him over a barrel, since you’re the one doing him a favor.”

“So true.” She bit into the pizza, savoring the spicy pepperoni and gooey cheese while a giant robot got its ass kicked in the ocean on television.

When Aidan had texted her that morning and wondered what the chances were she’d be able to stop by for pizza and
Pacific Rim
, she’d told him she’d make it happen. They’d both seen the movie at least a half dozen times, but they hadn’t yet seen it together. And it had been three days since she’d seen him, so she wasn’t missing this opportunity.

After a second bite, she realized that Aidan was looking at her instead of the TV screen. “What?”

“I just think it’s funny how you call the place you have an apartment
Concord
and here
home
. I don’t even know if you’re aware of it.”

She hadn’t been, actually, but when she replayed her words in her head, she realized he was right. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Or maybe that’s just a place you happen to live, but this is still home to you.”

“Most people probably refer to their hometown as home, especially if they still have family there.”

He shrugged. “Or maybe you needed some time away after your divorce, but your subconscious knows your heart is here.”

Lydia didn’t want any part of a conversation about her heart. “I doubt that.”

After setting the half-eaten slice on the coffee table, Aidan turned sideways on the couch so he was facing her. “Would it be so bad?”

“Would what be so bad?”

“Staying here. You love Kincaid’s Pub. Anybody who spends an hour in the place can see how much pride you take in the place, and the customers love you.”

“Of course I love Kincaid’s. It like...part of the family, as weird as that sounds. But I didn’t leave Boston because I wanted a different job.”

“I know that. It just seems like you’re different now. You’ve proven—to yourself and to your dad—that you can do what you want and make your life whatever you want it to be. So, this time, if you stayed in Boston and tended the bar, it would be your choice.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny she had any interest in staying, as if by reflex, but she didn’t. What he’d said kind of made sense to her, and the sudden uncertainty threw her off.

But there were a lot of bars like Kincaid’s Pub in the world, even if they didn’t bear her last name, and she could make a place for herself at any one of them. The difference between the Boston she left behind and the Boston she’d come back to was the man sitting on the couch with her.

The firefighter. The man hiding his relationship with her from the world so his best friend wouldn’t find out. The man so worried about what her father and brother would think that she was sneaking around and lying like a teenager just to have pizza with him.

“Did you really become a firefighter because of my dad?” she asked, deciding if he could push a little, so could she.

He seemed startled by the question, but he recovered quickly. “I guess the easy answer is yes, but I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe it’s more accurate to say I became a firefighter because of the accident. Or maybe I would have anyway, even if that never happened.”

“What was it about the accident, though? I mean, you’d seen firefighters on TV and in movies, I’m sure. Why did seeing them in person make a difference to you?”

He shook his head. “It’s really hard to explain, but it wasn’t about them at all. It was about me. I was always trying to be who my family expected and failing, and then the accident happened and I took charge. I was confident and somehow, even without knowing what to do, I was in my element. It was like for the first time, I was my true self. Does that make sense?”

It did, Lydia admitted to herself with a sinking feeling. She’d known a lot of firefighters in her life, and they chose the job for a lot of reasons. Some because it was family tradition. Some, like her ex, wanted to be heroes. Luckily, there weren’t a lot of those guys around because they washed out pretty quickly. Most wanted to help people and serve their communities.

For Aidan, it was obviously a calling. Putting on that bunker coat and running toward what others ran away from was a part of who he was.

These feelings she was developing for him—feelings that made her think she might rather keep doing what she was doing than go back to her apartment in New Hampshire—didn’t pick and choose which parts of him to like. But her head had a say, too, and it still shied away from allowing her to love another firefighter.

And then there was the fact that, even if she managed to reconcile herself to his job, there was no way their relationship could progress until it was out in the open.

“You’re thinking about something wicked hard,” Aidan said, giving her a questioning look. “Something bothering you?”

Something like both of them dancing around the fact they weren’t just burning off the excess chemistry anymore but neither of them could admit it because that would raise a whole lot of questions they couldn’t answer.

“Nope.” She smiled. “I was just curious how you ended up with Boston Fire, I guess. Scotty’s fourth generation, which you obviously know. It’s what the men in my family do. But you come from a totally different background.”

“I don’t remember if I was into fire trucks or anything before the accident, but I know from the time I was eleven on, there was nothing else I ever wanted to be.”

And that was the hard part. The firefighter community drove her nuts, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a deep, lifelong respect and admiration for the men and women who did the job. And because of that, and the look in Aidan’s eye when he talked about it, she knew she couldn’t ask him to give it up.

“Oh, I like this part,” Aidan said, and she realized she’d lost him to the movie again. The two main characters—a man and a woman—were sparring with staffs as part of a training and selection process, and after a few minutes, Aidan turned back to her. “Do you know how to use one of those?”

“I’m not sparring with you,” she told him. “That’s not my idea of foreplay at all.”

“Bummer.”

“But if I
did
spar with you, I’d totally kick your ass.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up at the challenge. “They don’t have sticks like that at my gym, but they’ve got gloves. We could go a few rounds and give each other a workout.”

Even as she thought that sounded like a fun date, his expression dimmed and she realized he was thinking of Scotty. Obviously they went to the same gym, and there was also no way Aidan could take Tommy Kincaid’s daughter there without every guy in a five-house radius hearing about it.

“We don’t need to use gloves for a workout, you know,” she said, not in the mood to watch him beat himself up about her brother.

It worked. “Are you asking me to choose between sex and
Pacific Rim
?”

Good point. “We can fast-forward through the science guys and still have time for a quickie workout before I leave.”

“I do love the way you come up with a plan.” He picked up the remote control and turned his attention back to the TV, his thumb hovering over the fast-forward button.

Lydia laughed and moved closer so she could snuggle with him now that they were done eating. If only she could come up with a plan for having a real relationship with him as easily as she came up with plans for a secret fling.

Chapter Sixteen

A
FEW
NIGHTS
LATER
, Aidan sat at the bar, sipping Sam Adams out of a cold bottle and watching Lydia work. And he watched with the awareness he could happily do this forever.

He’d finished up his shift and hit Kincaid’s for a meal—the grilled chicken sandwich tonight because a man couldn’t live on burgers alone—and a beer. After visiting with Lydia and the other regulars for a while, he’d head home. Maybe do some laundry or clean the bathroom. And then Kincaid’s would close and Lydia would show up. She usually didn’t stay more than an hour or two, because of Ashley, but they made the most of that time and it was enough.

Almost. The few occasions she’d stayed over and he’d slept the entire night with her butt pressed to his hip before waking up to her sleepy face made him want more of them.

If he pressed her to stay, she always defaulted to Ashley. If her sister got up in the middle of the night or early morning and she wasn’t home, she’d worry. And she’d already gone to bed, so it was too late to text her and tell her
not
to worry.

Aidan knew that was a bunch of crap. He was pretty sure if Ashley woke up in the middle of the night and Lydia wasn’t there, Ashley would assume she was at his place. It was more likely some boundary wall Lydia had built to keep up the pretense they weren’t really having a relationship. If they weren’t having a real relationship, she didn’t have to worry about the fact he was a firefighter or that some apartment in New Hampshire she shared with a virtual stranger and a cat was her future.

He still believed, however, that the best way to convince Lydia otherwise was not to try to convince of her anything. If he pushed too hard, she’d dig in.

“How long you going to make that beer last?”

He tore his gaze away from Lydia to look at Ashley, who was standing in front of him in a green Kincaid’s Pub T-shirt identical to her sister’s. He wouldn’t say she looked happy, but she looked better than she had the last time he saw her and it was good that she was getting out again. She needed to step back into her life and reclaim her space.

“When the beer’s gone, I’ll head home.” He flicked a glance at Lydia. “So it might take me a while to drink it all.”

She smiled, but her eyes were sad and he wondered if that sadness was for her or for him. “Take your time.”

He wasn’t stupid. Ashley felt a little sorry for him because she could probably see he was mooning over her sister and she would know better than anybody that Lydia wanted nothing to do with another firefighter.

A few minutes later, Lydia freed herself from a group of guys who were convinced they’d play pool better if she went in the alcove with them and blew on their cue sticks. He’d been watching them, making sure they didn’t step out of line, but he knew Lydia had it under control. She’d been doing this for a lot of years and she was really good at it. She knew how to keep them in check while also making them think she was the most wicked cool bartender ever, knowing they’d tip accordingly.

That didn’t make it any easier to watch them hit on Lydia with their cheesy innuendos, but if he went Neanderthal on them, she’d throw him out along with them.

“You are seriously rocking the scowl tonight,” she said.

“I feel like those guys could be a problem.”

She laughed. “They’re amateurs, trust me. If cracking jokes about touching their balls and blowing their sticks makes them happy, more power to them. If it changes from corny shit to personal, or one of them touches me, then they’ll be leaving.”

He watched her face change as she looked over his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“It’s not a big deal. Scotty and Danny just walked in.”

His muscles tensed and he sat up straight, as if he was putting distance between him and the woman on the other side of the bar. “Okay.”

“Will you relax? Jesus, Aidan, how many years have you known me? There’s nothing weird about you sitting here at the bar talking to me.”

He knew that, but he also knew he’d been sitting at the bar talking to her while counting the minutes until he could have her in his bed, which was the problem. “Yeah. Did Ashley see Danny?”

“She’s out back. I’ll let her know he’s here, though, so it’s not a surprise.”

“Hunt!” Scotty slapped him on the back and then hopped onto the stool next to him. Danny leaned against the bar on the other side, and Lydia set two beers in front of them. “What the hell, dude? You don’t call and invite us anymore?”

“I was driving by and stopped spur-of-the-moment. Thought you might be here.” The lies came so easily now. Finding the balance between watching Lydia like a man anticipating having sex with her and
not
looking at her so deliberately it was awkward wasn’t as easy as lying, though.

Before Lydia could go out back, Ashley emerged from the hallway to the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Danny. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d have a beer. It’s what I usually do here.”

He said the words calmly, like he said every damn thing, but Aidan saw the flush of anger across Ashley’s cheeks and thought maybe droll smart-ass wasn’t the way he should have gone. “You don’t think you should find another bar out of respect for me?”

“I like this bar. It’s where I proposed to you.”

The bar had fallen quiet, so everybody heard her quiet, sad words. “You say that like it means something.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Danny stopped slouching against the bar, and Aidan looked at Lydia, wondering if they should intercede somehow. Neither Danny nor Ashley would want to play this out with an audience, even if they were currently caught up in the heat of the moment. They’d be embarrassed later. “You think it doesn’t matter to me where I met my wife?”

“I don’t think it matters to you whether or not I’m your wife.”

“You told me you didn’t want to be married anymore. You said you needed space. So I gave you space and now I’m an asshole.”

“I wanted you to care. I wanted you to be
upset
that I thought our marriage was in trouble and show me that you were willing to fight for it.”

“You think I wasn’t upset? Is there some Kincaid standard of showing emotion? Do I have to yell? Break things? Is that how I show I care?” He threw the glass against the lower part of the bar and it smashed. “Is that what you want, Ash? You want me to lose control?”

“Yes! I want you to care enough to get pissed off and throw a goddamn glass.”

Danny shook his head, crossing to the wall with a few long, angry strides. After kissing his fingertips, he slapped Bobby Orr’s picture so hard, Aidan was afraid the glass protecting it would shatter. He wasn’t sure what would happen, jinx-wise, if
that
glass broke. Maybe that’s how the apocalypse would start.

“Is that upset enough for you?” Danny wasn’t finished yelling, and Aidan had no clue what to do. He glanced sideways at Scotty, who just gave him an
I
don’t know
,
either
shrug. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Danny yell before. “Or do I need to cry? Do you need to see me cry, because I can do that, Ashley. I usually do it in the shower so nobody knows, but if me in tears in front of everybody is what it takes, I’ll do that.”

“No.” Ashley’s voice was hoarse and choked. “That’s not what I want.”

“I love you. I’m sorry I don’t always express things the same way you do, or the way I guess you want me to. But I do love you.”

Tears were running down Ashley’s face, and Aidan watched Lydia untie her sister’s apron strings and take it off her. “You guys need to go somewhere and talk. Like right now while it’s all out there in the open.”

“I drove,” Danny said, looking at Scotty, who then looked at him.

“I’ll bring this guy home,” Aidan said, recognizing his cue. “You and Ashley should go talk.”

Once they’d left, Aidan moved out of the way so Lydia could clean up the broken glass and beer. “You want some help with that?”

“No thanks. I’ve had a lot of practice, and it’s totally worth the cost of the glass if it breaks through whatever’s been between Ashley and Danny.”

“Yeah. Hopefully they’ll keep talking until they get it all sorted out.”

He and Scotty watched the sports news scrolling across the bottom of the television screen, occasionally making a comment on a trade or an injury. It was stilted, though—at least it seemed so to Aidan—and he could feel the tension in his shoulders.

When Scotty was finally ready to leave, and had paid for Aidan’s beer in exchange for the ride, Aidan caught Lydia’s gaze and gave her a regretful smile. She shrugged slightly, like
what are you gonna do?
and he knew he wouldn’t be seeing her tonight. It was for the best since, even if she did stop by, he was currently being overwhelmed by guilt.

It just got worse when Scotty slapped him on the back as they headed for the door. “Married people sure do have a lot of drama. Thank God I still have you, though. You never have female drama.”

If only he knew, Aidan thought, casting a quick glance back at Lydia before he went out the door.

Danny pulled into Ashley’s—into
his
—driveway and put the truck in Park, but he didn’t open his door. “I should go.”

“No, you should
not
go. We’re finally getting somewhere and now you want to shut me out again?”

“Losing my shit and smashing a glass is getting somewhere?” His chest felt tight when he thought about how much he must have looked and sounded like his father at that moment.

“You told me you love me.” Her voice was so quiet, he could barely hear her over the truck’s engine.

“I tell you I love you all the time. If it only counts when I’m yelling and smashing things, then...I don’t know what’s happening here, Ashley. I can’t keep doing this.”

The color drained from her face and he watched her rub at the narrow white strip on the finger where her damn wedding rings were supposed to be. “I can’t, either.”

Before he could say anything else, she got out of the truck. He said her name, not wanting her to go, but she slammed the door and walked toward the house. Anger and desperation and confusion and love were still churning inside of him, and he almost let her go. He was too worked up to have a conversation.

But Danny had a gut feeling if he drove away right now, his marriage was over.

He killed the engine and got out. Ashley had closed the door, but she probably wouldn’t lock it since Lydia wasn’t home yet. And if she had, he’d use the key that was still on his ring.

This time he didn’t knock. It was still his house and she was still his wife until she looked him in the eye and said it was over.

When he closed the door behind him, Ashley stopped. She’d been on her way into the kitchen, and he could tell by the way her shoulders shook that she’d started crying. But he watched her take a deep breath, swiping at her cheeks, and she lifted her chin before turning to face him.

“I’m not leaving yet,” he said. “It’s not ending like this.”

“Is it ending?” she asked, the look in her eyes tearing at his heart.

“I don’t want it to. I don’t want a divorce, Ashley. God, that’s the last thing I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“I thought we had a good thing going. You’d even stopped taking your birth control pills, so I was looking forward to starting a family. And then, bam, just like that, you told me you didn’t want to be married to me anymore.”

“I said I
wasn’t sure.
”

“You said you needed space. All I knew was that our marriage might be over and it was like this...freezing cold nor’easter swirling inside me and I didn’t know what to do with that. I was afraid I’d explode with it if I tried to change your mind, so I gave you the space.”

“And
that’s
the problem! You shut down. It’s like you don’t even care. If you cared, you’d at least say something. I wanted you to fight for me. I wanted you to look the way you do right now.”

“That’s when people say bad stuff, Ashley,” he said, hating the way his voice was getting loud, but he was running out of chances to make her understand. “When people lose their cool, that’s when they say stuff they can
never
take back. Hurtful stuff. Name-calling. Words designed to cut to the bone. I don’t ever want to hurt somebody I love because I said something awful and hurtful in the heat of the moment.”

She stared at him for what felt like years, and then her face softened. “I’m not your mother, Danny. And you are most certainly not your father. We would never say things like that to each other.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I
do
know that. We love each other. And you know my family, Danny. You’ve seen us go off on each other. Sometimes we even call each other names and it gets loud and crazy, but we’re not mean. There’s a difference.”

“People say things when they lose control of their emotions.” Shame made his face feel hot when he realized his voice was choking up. “Great. Now I’m going to cry like a girl because I’m weak. I guess you’re going to get all those emotions you want.”

“Bullshit. You’re allowed to cry when your life’s coming undone, Danny. It’s not weak.” He was surprised when she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. “God, I hate your parents. I’m sorry, but I really hate them.”

All Danny knew was the feel of his wife in his arms and he held her as tight as he could without hurting her. He pressed his face into her hair and fought to control his raging emotions. Not because he didn’t want to express them, but because he wanted to talk and he couldn’t right now.

Ashley was trembling, her fingernails pressing into his lower back, and he kissed the top of her head. “I’ll go to counseling.”

“Do you mean it?”

Even muffled against his shirt, he could hear the tears and the hope in her voice. “I do. I’ll go with you and maybe I’ll go alone, too. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy. To make
us
happy.”

She squeezed his waist and he closed his eyes, letting himself believe everything would be okay. He wouldn’t stay tonight, no matter how much he wanted to. They were both too raw and the night had been far too emotionally exhausting. He needed to think about the fact that, in his effort to not be his parents, he’d gone too far and suppressed too much. They were, in that way, still affecting his marriage despite his vow long ago their relationship would never touch his. It was a lot to process, and he knew she’d finally understood why he’d built that wall she hated. There were still a lot of deep, personal conversations in their near future.