Flare Up Read online

  “I know that logically, but I guess fear isn’t always logical.”

  “I doubt he could find you. I know the city and I have some connections and I couldn’t find you, so it’s unlikely he could. Not impossible, of course, but unlikely.”

  “I know. It’s a big city and people tend to keep to themselves and mind their own business when it comes to strangers.”

  “Yeah, I guess Boston’s as good a city as any if you’re looking to hide.”

  She knew he didn’t mean to insult her, but Wren heard the slight edge in her voice when she responded. “I didn’t run to Boston to hide. I moved to Boston because I always wished I could live here and I realized, for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a reason not to. My dad took off when I was young and Mom died when I was still in high school and Alex wouldn’t speak to me anymore. There was nothing keeping me in Virginia.”

  “I’m sorry. I just assumed and...I shouldn’t have.”

  “You don’t have to take care of me, Grant.” She said it firmly, looking him in the eye. “I have some money put aside. I have what I need to start over again and I have some friends. I don’t need to be saved or rescued. Yeah, I’m scared of Ben, but I can handle that, too. I’m not a damsel in distress.”

  “I’m sure as hell not a knight in shining armor,” he responded. “But I’d like for us to be friends.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Although, I feel like I should point out I did, in fact, literally rescue you last night.”

  She laughed and he joined in until the laughing gave way to more painful coughing. And even though he didn’t take her hand after he paid the bill and they walked out of the restaurant, like he would have five months ago, it felt good to laugh and recapture some of the happiness she’d given up.

  And she told herself she wasn’t going to let anybody take it away from her again. Maybe she and Grant could never go back to the relationship they’d had before, but she was done running.

  * * *

  Grant had his feet up and was about to nod off to a rerun of a cop show when his phone chimed.

  Knock knock.

  The caller ID said it was Rick Gullotti, which was weird.

  Who’s there?

  After a few seconds, he got a reply.

  What?

  What who?

  The phone rang in his hand. “What’s up, LT?”

  Though Rick was technically the lieutenant for Ladder 37 and Danny Walsh was his LT, they both got the nickname.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Am I drunk? I’m not the one texting knock knock jokes at nine o’clock at night, and then screwing them up.”

  “It wasn’t a knock knock joke. I want you to open your door.”

  “Oh. I would have known that if you’d actually, you know, knocked on the door.”

  “Open the damn door.”

  Grant tossed the remote on the table and walked to his front door to let Rick in. He was still standing in the hall with his phone pressed to his ear, and Grant laughed. “You can hang up now.”

  Rick cursed and shoved the phone into his pocket. “I’m too old for this shit.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Checking on you. Walsh called me. He was worried about you, but he said something about Jackson and terrible twos and Ashley having stuff to do. I didn’t catch it all because the kid was screeching like he was on fire in the background. So I’m here to, I don’t know. See if you’re okay. Whatever. And somebody at the bar was talking about how young people don’t knock anymore. They just text to announce their arrival.”

  “I’m not that young. And I’m fine.”

  “I left my extremely hot wife at home and put on pants and drove all the way over here.”

  “Okay, I can probably manage one beer’s worth of not fine, just so you didn’t put on pants for no reason.”

  Once they each had a can of beer and were sitting—Grant on the couch and Rick in the recliner because he’d moved faster—Grant started talking. He hadn’t even realized how much he needed somebody to talk to until the words started coming out of his mouth.

  He told Rick everything. About the asshole Ben from Virginia. Her fears. The way breakfast had ended. The trip to Walmart to get a new life starter kit, as she’d called it. Her finding out the apartment and everything in it were a total loss, but her car was okay. And her promise to spend another night on Gavin and Cait’s couch while she decided what to do next.

  “I don’t want her living in another death trap,” he said. “She might be able to get some assistance with a security deposit and whatnot for a new place, but I want it to be decent. And of course she won’t let me give her any money.”

  “Okay, but how are you?”

  Grant downed some beer before answering that question. “I don’t know, really. I told her I’ve missed her and that I want to get to know her again now that she doesn’t have any secrets. We’re going to try to be friends.”

  Rick nodded before sipping his beer. It was tempting for Grant to fill the silence, but he resisted the urge. The older guy had gone to some effort to drive over and be a shoulder to lean on, so he could damn well do the work of offering the shoulder.

  “Friends, huh?”

  He was going to have to do better than that. “Yup.”

  “You okay with that?”

  “I’m not okay with not being friends with her.”

  Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “I don’t, either, really. I’m not walking away from her. But I also know our relationship before wasn’t what I thought it was.”

  “Because she broke it off?”

  “Because if the love between us had been as real as I thought it was, she would have trusted me to be able to handle an asshole ex-boyfriend.”

  “People do weird things when they’re afraid. You know that. Hell, you’ve seen some of the crazy shit that happens on scenes.” Rick shrugged. “On the other hand, I can see where you’re coming from. It’s hard to trust somebody who’s hurt you like that.”

  “I need to solve the Ben problem.”

  The LT made a noise that sounded a lot like disagreement. “There’s not a lot you can do about that guy without getting yourself in trouble. And it doesn’t sound like he’s the real problem, anyway. Even if that problem got resolved somehow, the emotional crap between you won’t be magically healed.”

  Emotional crap. That was one way to put it. “Maybe not, but at least she’ll be free to stop worrying about him and figure out what she wants.”

  “And if it’s not you?”

  Grant squashed the impulse to shrug off the question or give a wise-ass response. One, because he appreciated the two LTs checking on him and the effort Rick put into it. And two, because they’d put up with his shitty attitude and anger after Wren left, and they’d helped put him back on track before he threw everything away.

  “I don’t know if it’ll be me or not. To be totally honest, I’m not sure if I even want it to be me. I’m still reeling. But if we’re not meant to be together, I want us to go our separate ways with all the facts on the table and the knowledge that we both tried.”

  “Do you think you can move past the way she broke it off? Because you can’t just say you forgive her. You have to accept it and let it go or it won’t work.”

  “I don’t know.” Grant drained the last of his beer. “That’s the only answer I have, LT.”

  “Then it’s the right answer. You’re not going to figure it out overnight. Just do yourself—and her—a favor and keep it in your pants until you do know the answer. Don’t make it messier than it already is.”

  Messy was a good word for his life right now. His thoughts. His emotions. Everything was a mess.

  “You know there’s an option between
walking away from her and diving back into the deep end right?” Rick set his can on the side table before leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. “Gavin and Cait can help her out. Hell, we’ll all be there if she needs something, but you don’t have to be involved.”

  “I can’t walk away from her.”

  “Okay.” Rick relaxed against the back of the recliner again. “Just be aware that we cut you a lot of slack when it came to your shitty attitude after she left.”

  “I know you did, and I appreciate it.”

  “You’re going back in with your eyes wide open, so if you start that shit again, you’ll have your ass handed to you.”

  “Understood.” He didn’t want to go back down that road any more than they wanted him to. “I just need to think with my head and not with my heart. Or my dick.”

  Rick laughed. “Jesus. You are so screwed.”

  Chapter Five

  “Ohmigod, Wren! That is the worst!”

  It was the third—and hopefully last—time she’d heard that since arriving at the salon. She was thankful they didn’t open until ten each morning because she’d had a rough night of tossing and turning on Cait’s couch. Her thoughts had bounced between how she was going to put her life back together and how she felt about Grant being back in it.

  “Do you need anything? Like... I don’t know. Anything?”

  “Thanks, Kelli. I’ll be okay, though.”

  She wouldn’t say the women were her friends. She’d focused too much on just keeping her head down and doing her job to let that happen. But the owner and senior stylist, Sadie, along with stylist Kelli and Barb, the nail tech, were friendly enough and they were definitely distraught about the fire. But Wren was thankful when clients started showing up and distracted them so she could sit behind the reception desk and focus on the phone and appointment book.

  Yesterday, while shopping with Grant, she’d bought a couple pair of black leggings with three tops and a pair of cheap ballet flats. She only worked three mornings a week at the salon, so those would get her through for a while. She’d also bought some jeans and casual shirts for her job at the market. Throwing in a winter coat had made her wince at the total cost, but it was February. She couldn’t go without a coat.

  Answering the phone and greeting clients were her primary job, so Wren had to drink a lot more water than usual to keep her scratchy throat from getting so dry she couldn’t talk. Luckily, if she was fairly still and calm, she wasn’t coughing as much.

  During the downtime at the desk, she poked around online, looking at listings for apartments she couldn’t afford. Some young women were looking for a roommate, but they were very young women and living with three college girls was pretty low on the list of options, as far as Wren was concerned. A better option than couch surfing or living in another apartment like the last one, but she liked quiet and she was afraid, even though she wasn’t that much older, she’d become the house mom.

  But most importantly, there was Ben to consider. Maybe he wasn’t the problem she’d built him up to be, but she was leery to introduce three young women into the mix.

  She might be able to find cheaper options outside the city. She could take the T to work and... Sighing, Wren closed the browser and leaned back in her chair. As much as she liked the couple who owned the market, neither of her jobs merited a commute into the city. If she couldn’t afford to stay in Boston, she needed to move out of Boston. It was that simple.

  Except it wasn’t that simple. She loved Boston. Out of all the places she could have gone, she’d chosen to make Boston her home and she didn’t want to leave it. And she didn’t want to leave Grant.

  No matter how awkward things might be, and whether or not he ever forgave her for leaving him the way she did, she didn’t want to move away from him.

  At two o’clock, she handed the desk over to the full-time receptionist and, after promising the women yet again she’d let them know if she needed anything, she switched the ballet flats for the sneakers in her bag and after wrapping the scarf Cait had lent her around her face to protect her lungs from the cold air, went outside.

  Boots. She really needed boots. Grant had offered to buy her a pair, but she’d insisted the sneakers would be fine. And they would be if it wasn’t unusually cold this week. She’d have to get a pair before snow showed up in the forecast again, but it was important to her not to take Grant’s money.

  She was halfway to where she’d parked her car when her cell phone rang. She’d had the inexpensive prepaid model less than twenty-four hours, so only a few people had the number.

  Instead of the dread she’d felt ever since Ben had called, she thought of Grant, and she smiled when she saw his number on the screen and nudged the scarf down just a hair. “Hello?”

  “Hey, you busy?”

  “I just got out of work and I’m on my way back to my car.”

  “We’ve been invited to dinner at Patty’s house this evening. You remember her, right? Cait’s mom?”

  We. They weren’t really a we anymore. “I remember her.”

  “I know Cait already spoke to you about her old bedroom and—”

  She cut him off. “And I told Cait it wasn’t a good idea. It’s still not. I don’t want to drag anybody else into this, Grant. Can’t you understand that?”

  “Nobody’s getting dragged into anything. Gavin and Cait filled Patty and Carter in on your situation and they’re both on board.”

  She hated that everybody was talking about her business, but it wasn’t as though it was idle gossip. They wanted to help her and it was time to let them in. Trying to go it on her own had cost her everything.

  “Look, Wren. I know it spooked you when he called, but the fire wasn’t arson. It was electrical. And some favors were called in and, thanks to a visual confirmation from the local PD, we know that asshole is still in Virginia, where he belongs.”

  The rush of relief almost buckled her knees, and she was thankful her car was in view. And she didn’t have gloves on, so the fingers wrapped around the phone were starting to hurt.

  “They actually saw him?”

  “Yes. Ben Mitchell is in Virginia.”

  Wren unlocked her car and got in, switching her phone to her other hand so she could stick the key in the ignition. It would take a while for the car to start putting out heat, but at least she was out of the wind.

  “Maybe I’m overstepping,” Grant continued. “I probably am and I shouldn’t be. But I know you, and you’ll struggle quietly rather than ask for help. And you can do it. I know you can. But you don’t have to struggle alone. You have friends.”

  “I don’t know.” But she was wavering. He was right. She could do it. But he was also right about it being harder if she pushed away the people offering to help her.

  “Gavin and Cait will be there. Just consider it a good meal with friends and we’ll go from there. If you want to at least look at the room, that’s great. But if you don’t want to, that’s your decision.”

  She had to do something. It was awkward, sleeping on the couch, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to reach out to the shelter offering space for the displaced residents.

  “That sounds good,” she said finally. “I’ll talk to Cait and probably ride over with them.”

  “Good. I’ll see you there.”

  As she dropped the phone in the cup holder and put her hands over the barely warm air coming out of the vents, she tried to focus on what she needed to do this afternoon and not the fact she’d be seeing Grant in a few hours.

  We.

  She liked the sound of that.

  * * *

  Grant practically jogged up the walk to Patty’s front door. His mom had called as he was getting ready to leave and just hearing her voice settled him, so he’d spent a little more time on the phone with her than he should have.

  He
hadn’t mentioned Wren at all, though. He wasn’t sure what to make of the omission and he didn’t have time to analyze himself right now.

  Cait’s younger brother opened the door as he lifted his hand to knock. “Hey, Grant. How’s it going?”

  “Good.” He played basketball with the kid sometimes, since Gavin brought him to the Saturday morning pickup games. They’d tried to get him into hockey, but he couldn’t skate for shit.

  “So what’s new in your life? Anything good?”

  “Finally got my license,” he said as they walked into the living room. “And I’ve been working, trying to save up for a car.”

  Patty laughed. “I told him I’d buy him a car.”

  “A 1970s Buick is a not a car. It’s a boat on wheels.”

  “More like a tank,” his mom said. “I wouldn’t have to worry about you driving around this city as much.”

  “And you wouldn’t have to worry about him getting into trouble anywhere,” Cait added, “since he won’t be able to go anywhere since he’ll never find a parking space for a beast like that.”

  Grant laughed along with the rest of them, appreciating the easy humor between Patty and her kids. The family had hit a rough spot after the death of Carter’s dad, but the vibe in the house was so much happier and more relaxed now.

  Wren’s laughter mingled with the others’, and although it was softer and quieter, it caught his attention and turned his head. She was looking at Cait and her amusement had erased the signs of stress from her face.

  The easy small talk continued through dinner. They all talked about work and teased Carter about what kind of car he should get. The conversation never got heavy and nobody asked Wren any hard questions, other than Cait putting on her EMT hat to ask about her follow-up with the doctor that afternoon, but Wren said everything had looked good and she should continue taking it easy until the lingering effects faded.

  He did catch both Gavin and Cait giving them speculative glances now and then, and he didn’t blame them. Seated next to each other, he and Wren had fallen easily into being a “couple.” Easy banter. Her handing him the pepper without him asking. Him stealing a piece of ham off her plate because he liked the crispy edges. And her giving him a look because he knew he was supposed to trim that fatty edge off.