Controlled Burn Read online

  Why? The word was on the tip of Jessica’s tongue, but for some reason she didn’t ask the question. If her grandparents felt anything like she did on the inside right now, they all had enough on their emotional plates without digging into the reasons behind their estrangement from their son.

  “Davey hasn’t been happy a day in his life,” Joe said, his voice gruff with some emotion that went deeper than anger.

  Every time she heard the name Davey, Jessica’s mind tripped over it. These strangers knew her father, but they seemed to know a different version of him and that fascinated her. She wanted to know more about him.

  She heard the front door and then the thump of footsteps on the stairs. Rick must be bringing her bags upstairs, and she fought down a rush of panic. Was she really staying here? With her grandparents?

  “We should get you settled in,” Marie said, standing up. “Being on a plane all day like that must be exhausting.”

  Jessica couldn’t disagree, especially considering the amount of anxiety that had accompanied her, and the shift in time zones wasn’t going to help. She followed Marie to the stairs, but paused halfway up when a framed photo caught her eye. She’d barely noticed all the family pictures on display, but this one had been blown up.

  Even though he was just a child—young enough to show off two missing front teeth in a huge smile—Jessica had no trouble recognizing her father. And Joe and Marie hadn’t changed very much, either, even though Joe had been a little beefier. They all looked so happy, smiling for the camera, and the ache in Jessica’s stomach intensified.

  She had a few pictures of her mother. There was even a photo of them together, taken just before her third birthday. They’d both been looking at the camera with solemn eyes. Jessica’s mouth had been turned down in what looked like sadness and her mother’s lips had been pressed tightly together.

  There were no happy family portraits on David Broussard’s walls.

  When she heard Marie pause at the top of the stairs, she forced herself to look away and climb the rest of the steps. Maybe later she’d look at all the framed photos and try to get a handle on her emotions before having any conversations with her grandparents.

  Halfway down the hall, they passed Rick, who was heading back for the stairs. He smiled at Marie, but some of the sparkle went out of his eyes when he turned it on her. “I put your bags in your room.”

  “Thank you.” She already knew she’d lose some sleep trying to solve the mystery of Rick Gullotti. Was he afraid she was there for nefarious reasons? Or did he have nefarious plans of his own that her presence could derail?

  Marie led her to the last door on the right, which was standing open, and Jessica saw it was a slightly barren but very clean guest room. Her suitcase and her tote were set just inside the door, and she saw that he’d thrown the stuff she’d had on the seat into the bag.

  “I don’t think it’s too dusty in here.” Marie pulled off the sheet draped over the bare mattress before walking to a closet. She pulled out a pile of fresh bedding and together they made the bed.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Jessica asked when they were almost done.

  Marie smiled at her from across the bed, but her eyes were wary. “Of course.”

  “How did you get my father’s business number to put on your forms? I know he’s had the number a long time, but...not that long.” Somehow she doubted making sure they had his current contact info was high on her father’s priority list.

  “Sometimes I type his name into the Google on the computer at the library,” Marie said, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. “I’m not very good with computers, but I clicked on the first thing in the list it gave me and it was a website for his business—and yours, I guess. It has a phone number so I put it on the form, and there’s a picture of him, too. I look at it a lot.”

  Jessica had no idea what to say to that, so she kept her mouth shut, but it made her sad to think this woman had been pining for her son. A son who seemed to harbor no good feelings toward her at all. She tried to remind herself that people changed and almost forty years was a long time.

  Although, her father never seemed to change.

  “There.” Marie ran her hand over the quilt to smooth out a wrinkle, and smiled at Jessica. “It’s no five-star hotel, but I think you’ll be comfortable.”

  “I know I will. I’m glad I’m staying.” And she was. It was going to be awkward, of course, but distance wouldn’t help make it any less so.

  They started toward the door, but at the last second, Marie turned to face her again. “I know this is probably weird for you, but would you mind if I gave you a hug?”

  “I...I’d like that.”

  When Marie wrapped her arms around her, Jessica sighed and rested her head on her shoulder. Tears blurred her vision, so she closed her eyes and let herself soak in the emotion.

  She knew the coming days would be a mess. Her father would be angry. There would be doctors, real estate people and perhaps lawyers to talk to with her grandparents, and there would probably be some emotional conversations about the family’s past.

  But for now, she was content to hug her grandmother.

  * * *

  Rick walked through the door of Kincaid’s Pub and just the sight of Tommy Kincaid and “Fitz” Fitzgerald sitting at the bar relaxed him. Both retired firefighters, they’d been a fixture in the place even before Tommy bought it, enabling Fitz to claim the back stool by right of best friendship.

  Kincaid’s wasn’t pretty, but firefighters had made it their own decades before—even before Tommy bought it—and it was like a second home for the guys of Ladder 37 and Engine 59. Memorabilia and photos from the local stations decorated the place, along with a signed photo of Bruins legend Bobby Orr screwed right to the wall to keep anybody from walking off with him.

  Lydia Kincaid was behind the bar tonight and she waved to him when he walked in. She’d left the family business—and Boston—for a while, but came back to help out on a temporary basis a few months before. Temporary until she hooked up with Aidan Hunt, who was assigned to Engine 59 with her brother and his best friend, Scott. The firehouse had been a little tense when that relationship news broke but now, almost four months later, the drama was forgotten. Scott and Aidan were as tight as they’d ever been and Lydia had a diamond on her left hand.

  And she had a beer in her right hand, which she set down on the bar next to the one she’d poured for her brother. Scotty was alone, so Rick walked up and draped his arm over his shoulders. “You hanging out with all your friends?”

  “Screw you. I thought Aidan might show up, but Lydia’s making him do responsible adult shit, I guess.”

  His sister rolled her eyes. “He’s grocery shopping because we like to eat. He said he might stop by to shoot some pool later, or he might not.”

  “I figured he’d spend more time here, not less,” Rick said. “Since you’re here.”

  “I don’t go hang around the firehouse just because Aidan’s there.”

  He shrugged. “True. But he was hanging out here long before you became the reason why.”

  “He’ll probably be in, unless there’s an animal documentary on. Then he’ll sit down and end up asleep.”

  Rick watched her mouth curve upward in an affectionate smile and took a few swallows of beer as she walked away. He was happy for her. He’d known her for years, since she was Scott’s sister and she’d been tending the bar since he was old enough to drink. And he was happy for Aidan, too. He was a good guy.

  “You’re antsy tonight,” Scott said, and Rick realized he was tapping his fingers against his mug. “What’s up?”

  “My landlords’ granddaughter showed up from San Diego today.”

  “Joe and Marie have a granddaughter?”

  “That’s what I said when she showed up.”


  “And?” Scotty prompted when he didn’t offer up any more details.

  “And what?”

  “Where has she been? Why is she here now?”

  Rick filled him in on what little he knew, pausing now and then to sip his beer. It didn’t take him very long to tell the story, of course, since he had a lot more questions than answers when it came to Jessica.

  “So she’s basically vice president of a financial management company, but she gets on a plane to Boston with no advance notice because her father got a call about her grandparents, who she’s never even met?” Scotty frowned. “That’s a little weird, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not sure what to think. I don’t like the fact she’s already researching the value of the house, though.”

  “What I can’t believe is that they haven’t updated their legal situation in how many decades? From what you’ve told me, their son wants nothing to do with them.”

  Rick nodded. “Yeah, but what else are they gonna do? With Davey out of the picture, it’s just the two of them.”

  “And you.”

  “No.” Even the suggestion Joe and Marie would disinherit Davey in his favor made him uncomfortable. “When push comes to shove, I’m their tenant. It’s bad enough they cut me such a break on the rent. They don’t need to be giving me more than that.”

  “They’re not just giving you a break on the rent for no reason, though. They want to keep you because they trust you and because you take care of the house. And the yard. And pretty much everything else a son would do for them.”

  “I don’t want the house. Or their money. I just want them to be comfortable and safe. If that means selling the house to find them something more manageable or to pay for one of those assisted-living places, so be it. I’m a big boy. I can find a new place to live.”

  “So you’re just going to stay out of it?”

  Rick took a long drink, considering the question. “No. Maybe Jessica’s here because her father’s unavailable, whatever the hell that means, and she wants to help out her grandparents and maybe even get to know them. Or maybe they got a phone call and saw dollar signs. I’m not going to sit back and watch father and daughter shuffle Joe and Marie off to some shit hole and take control of their finances.”

  “I don’t know your landlords as well as you do, but they don’t seem like the type to fall for something like that.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Rick said. “But their son left a big hole in their lives and... If you could have seen Marie’s face when it hit home that Jessica was really her granddaughter. They’re vulnerable, even if they don’t see it.”

  “We don’t have another shift until Tuesday morning, so you’ll be able to keep an eye on her.”

  “And what woman are you keeping an eye on now?” Lydia asked. She’d been passing by, carrying a couple of empty mugs from some guys at the end of the bar, and she stopped in front of them.

  “Not that kind of keeping an eye on,” Rick said. “I don’t have my eye on anybody in that sense right now.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “It’s not like you to be single for long.”

  She walked away before he could respond, but he wasn’t sure what he’d say, anyway. It made him a little uncomfortable to hear her say that, he realized. He dated a lot. So what? He was single and his relationships almost always ended mutually. Most of his ex-girlfriends were still women he considered friends.

  Like Karen. He turned his head to face his friend. “Did you know Karen’s engaged?”

  Scotty nodded. “Did she tell you or did you hear it somewhere? I don’t think too many people know yet, actually.”

  “I saw her ring when I was in the ER for Joe and Marie yesterday.”

  “She tell you the rest of it?”

  “About them having a baby? Yeah.” Rick took a long swallow of his beer. “I’m happy for her.”

  “Really? Because you look kind of like a man who’s one more beer away from writing a bad country song on the back of a bar napkin.”

  “Sure, I liked her. But it wasn’t a forever kind of thing.” He shrugged. “The first time I saw her with the new boyfriend, I knew there was something between them we didn’t have.”

  “You will someday. Probably.”

  Scott Kincaid was probably the last guy he should be talking about relationships with, but there was nobody else around. “What do you think not the marrying kind really means?”

  Scotty snorted. “Hell if I know, but I’ve been told more than once if you look it up in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of me.”

  “Maybe next time a woman says it, I should ask her to be more specific.”

  “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  Rick wasn’t sure he did, either. But seeing how happy Karen had been lately made him see how big a difference there was between having a woman in your life and having a woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

  Once the issue with Jessica Broussard had been resolved, he was going to have to give some serious thought to making himself into the marrying kind. Whatever the hell that meant.

  Chapter Three

  Jessica opened her eyes and blinked at the sun shining through the frilly white curtains. She’d struggled with sleep issues her entire life, so she had room-darkening drapes in her bedroom at home and only ever knew what time of day it was by looking at the clock.

  There was certainly no doubt it was morning right now. And it was her first full day in Boston, in her grandparents’ house.

  She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, surprised she’d slept at all. The last thing she remembered was the clock ticking over to one o’clock as she tried to reconcile the Joe and Marie she’d met yesterday with the crass, alcoholic, bad-tempered people her father had refused to talk about.

  Even given the fact people changed and her grandparents were different now than when they’d raised their son, Jessica’s gut told her something wasn’t right about the way he’d cut his parents out of his life. Maybe she’d always suspected that, but it had taken something of a perfect storm for her to face it. She’d become painfully aware most of her friends had married and started families, while she was still acting as her father’s business partner and hostess, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. At thirty-four, she needed to figure out if she even wanted those things, or if she liked her life just how it was.

  There had been a lot of introspection, though. And a realization that, when her father eventually passed away, she’d be alone. Then the call had come from Boston. And her father had been unavailable to stop her from getting on the plane.

  Maybe she’d find out that, once the element of surprise wore off, Joe and Marie weren’t very nice people, after all. If that was the case, she could just get on a plane back to San Diego. She’d be sad, but at least she’d know her father had been right all along.

  Now she desperately wanted a cup of coffee, but she wasn’t sure what would happen when she went downstairs. Marie might not mind if she went through her usual morning routine of catching up on stock movement and financial news on her phone while waiting for the caffeine to kick in. Or she might want to chat and make breakfast together. As lovely as that sounded, business came before family. She’d learned that at her father’s knee.

  Ten minutes into scanning reports, though, and the craving for coffee burned through her good intentions. Coffee was too ingrained in her morning routine to attempt productivity without it. After getting dressed, she grabbed her phone and her laptop and went down the stairs.

  Her grandparents were sitting in the living room when she reached the bottom, and they both looked over at her. Joe was sitting in a leather recliner, a mug of coffee on an end table next to it. And Marie was seated on the couch with her feet up on the coffee table, flipping through a maga
zine.

  “Good morning,” she said, feeling awkward all over again. She really shouldn’t have let Marie talk her out of staying at a hotel.

  “Good morning,” Joe said, and then he turned back to the television. It was turned up pretty loud, so she guessed they didn’t really do morning small talk.

  Marie smiled. “Good morning, honey. There’s coffee in the carafe. And I left some muffins and a few slices of bacon on a plate for you. There’s a paper towel over it. If you want eggs, I can fry you up some.”

  “No, thank you. A muffin will be plenty.”

  “You can go ahead and do your computer stuff at the kitchen table if it’s comfortable. We’re watching our morning shows for another hour, at least.”

  “Thank you.”

  Once she’d fixed her coffee and inhaled a cranberry muffin and two strips of bacon, Jessica sat down at the kitchen table and got to work. It wasn’t ergonomically ideal, but she wouldn’t be spending enough time on the computer to worry about it today. Not only did she use her phone a lot, but she felt as if it would be rude to ignore her grandparents on her first day there.

  By the halfway point of her second coffee, she’d cleared her inbox and exchanged a few emails with Sharon, her father’s secretary and the woman who’d be doing the heavy lifting as far as keeping the office up and running. There were several messages from clients to respond to, but overall things were quiet. Most people were wrapped up in ski trips and the upcoming holidays once December hit.

  She jumped, almost bumping her coffee cup, when the back door opened and Rick walked in. He’d skipped the sweatshirt today and she admired the way his navy T-shirt clung to his upper body before forcing herself to look at his face. He looked tired.

  “Good morning,” she said, watching him walk to the coffeemaker.

  “Morning. Where are Joe and Marie?”

  “In the living room watching television. Marie said they have morning shows they usually watch, so I could go ahead and work at the table.” And speaking of work, why wasn’t he at work? She hadn’t expected him to be around until later in the day, if at all. “Do you have a job?”