Flare Up Read online

  It did sound more fun than reading alone in her room. Patty had plans with some single women she knew and Carter would be doing teen boy things. “Are you sure it won’t be weird?”

  “I swear. It’s more like a group thing, anyway.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to ask Cait if Grant would be a part of that group thing. He hadn’t mentioned it when they had dinner. That could be because it was no big deal and he hadn’t thought of it. Or it could be that he was avoiding the implication of what spending Valentine’s Day together might mean.

  Especially after that kiss.

  They’d only talked on the phone once in the few days since dinner, but there were a lot of text messages. Sometimes just a hi. He’d been busy with a charity thing and helping a friend work on his truck on his off days, but he’d kept in touch.

  She honestly wasn’t sure if they were a couple again. But they seemed to be kind of dating? But not for Valentine’s Day, apparently.

  Unless he’d never planned to go and had forgotten about it.

  “It does sound like fun,” she admitted to Cait.

  “I have to drop off some stuff for my mom, so you can ride with us.”

  “Okay. And I can just grab a Lyft home.”

  “We’ll make sure you get home. I’ll text you when we figure out what time we’ll be there.”

  Once she was off the phone, Wren glanced at the time and winced. Fifteen minutes wasn’t very long, so she finished her protein bar and decided to take the coffee back to the desk with her.

  “Oh, good, you’re back,” Kelli said, standing up as soon as she saw Wren. “I’m the worst at the desk, but I don’t think I screwed anything up while you were gone.”

  “It was only fifteen minutes.”

  “Yeah, but I’m really bad at it.”

  A quick glance didn’t show anything amiss, so Wren sat and took a sip of her coffee. The phones would slow down, she guessed, since people would know it was too late in the day to get a last-second appointment.

  “Oh, Wren, I forgot.” Kelli waved her next client over to the sink and then walked back to the desk. “While you were on break, some guy called and asked for you. He didn’t leave a message, though.”

  Wren froze, her mind spinning. “He didn’t leave his name?”

  “Nope. Just said he’d try again another time.” She started to walk away, but then turned with a big grin on her face. “Maybe it was some dude working up the nerve to ask you out for Valentine’s Day and he chickened out.”

  “Maybe.” Wren forced herself to smile and then turned her attention to the appointment book.

  The writing blurred, but she wasn’t really reading it anyway. She just needed a moment.

  Grant would have called her cell. So would Gavin or Carter. Even Mr. Belostotsky. She couldn’t think of another man who would need to call her who wouldn’t have her cell number.

  It can’t be him.

  She couldn’t see any way that Ben would be in Virginia, where he belonged, and know she was working at this salon. No, she wasn’t using a fake name, but she also kept her footprint as faint as possible. Unless he hired a professional investigator, he probably wouldn’t find her. And he didn’t have that kind of money, as far as she knew. Especially after being incarcerated.

  Maybe it had to do with the apartment burning, she told herself. She couldn’t remember if she’d listed the salon on what had passed for a rental agreement. She’d already been told her unit had been fully engulfed and there was literally nothing left, but maybe she needed to sign something that said she officially no longer lived in the nonexistent apartment.

  Not knowing who had called left her unsettled for the remainder of the busy day, but the paperwork theory at least let her focus on the phone and the clients, and then the drive home.

  By the time Gavin’s truck rolled up Patty’s driveway and Cait ran in to get her and speak to her mom for a minute, Wren had talked herself out of thinking it could be Ben. And she was more than ready to relax with whatever cocktail Lydia had concocted and enjoy herself.

  * * *

  Grant tried to stay away. He’d gotten the text invite to Kincaid’s from Gavin and declined. The only person he wanted to celebrate romance with was Wren and that was messy.

  They’d had dinner together. They’d kissed. Maybe they were dating? He didn’t want to see anybody else and he was confident she didn’t, either, but he wasn’t sure that officially made them a couple.

  And he didn’t know if he was ready for that step, anyway. As much as he couldn’t resist having her in his life again, he also couldn’t forget the sound of her tear-choked voice telling him they were done and she didn’t want to see him again. They were supposed to be getting to know each other. Taking time.

  But in the end, he couldn’t stay away and he walked into Kincaid’s about an hour after Gavin said he’d be getting there. It wasn’t packed, since it wasn’t exactly a Valentine’s Day destination, but there were enough regulars to make a small crowd.

  He forced himself to go straight to the bar without looking around, because he didn’t want to look as if he was searching for Wren. It was dumb, he knew, but he was struggling to maintain a clear head and some distance between them while he sorted through his emotions.

  “You want one?” Lydia asked him, holding up a very red cocktail garnished with cherries in a fancy glass. There was something around the rim that looked like red-tinted sugar, but he wasn’t sure.

  “I’ll take a beer.” He was pretty sure if he drank one of those cocktails, he’d be pissing pink tomorrow.

  After she handed him a frosted mug filled with normal-colored beer, he took a sip and looked around. It didn’t take him long to spot Wren. She was with Gavin and Cait, laughing at something Aidan was saying.

  God, he’d missed her. It had been a week and a half since he’d carried her out of her apartment and he felt as if he was just coming to grips with all that had happened.

  Like the kiss. And the fact she was here separately because he hadn’t invited her out on Valentine’s Day.

  There was a time he’d had game. He and Gavin had had no trouble with the ladies, but then Gavin and Cait had crossed paths. And he’d met Wren. His game was shot to hell.

  She glanced his way and when she saw him, her face lit up. As always, the way she looked at him made the doubts disappear. Wren was his. He just had to let go of the shit that had gone down between them and let her back in.

  He knew almost everybody in the bar, so it took him a few minutes to make his way to the pool table alcove where most of the E-59 and L-37 folks were milling around. And Wren.

  “Hi,” he said to the group at large, but he was looking at her.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here,” she said. “But I’m glad you showed up.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You’re not going to try one of Lydia’s cocktails?” She held up the red drink, which he was guessing wasn’t her first.

  “Nope. I’ve gotta show up bright and early tomorrow morning, and I’m driving,” he said. “One beer is my limit tonight.”

  “For a bunch of us,” Gavin said, holding up his half-empty mug. “The worst part is nursing it so you can put off switching to water or soda as long as possible, but not wanting it to get warm.”

  They made small talk for a while, as people shifted around and came and went, but he was never far from Wren. At one point, he lost track of her, and then she reappeared with a fresh cocktail.

  She caught him scowling at her—Lydia was known for a heavy pour when it came to her friends—and winked. Then she licked the sugar from the rim of her glass. Slowly. Deliberately. Never breaking eye contact with him.

  He sucked in a breath and then took a healthy swig of his beer, even though it wasn’t going to do a damn thing to cool him off.

  And she knew it. The l
ook she gave him over her glass could have melted steel and he had to clear his throat before he stepped close enough to her to speak.

  “How many of those have you had?”

  “Are you counting everybody’s drinks or just mine?” She smiled sweetly, but he heard the undertone. Basically, she was a grown-ass woman and it was none of his business how many cocktails she had. “Lydia’s bringing out cupcakes soon.”

  “Cupcakes?”

  “For Valentine’s Day. She got them from a bakery for tonight.”

  “You wanna share a cupcake with me?”

  “Share?” She considered it, pursing her lips in a way that got all of his attention. “I will share my cupcake with you.”

  Wren loved cupcakes, so sharing was a pretty big deal. “We should head that direction because I know this bunch. Cupcakes won’t last long.”

  They timed it out perfectly. As they reached the bar, Lydia was opening a huge box of cupcakes. She slapped a couple of hands away and then started putting them on cocktail napkins.

  “What flavor are those?” Tommy bellowed from the corner.

  Tommy Kincaid had a place of honor at the bar, over in the corner, because he owned the place. And his best friend for decades, Fitzy, sat next to him. They were retired from E-59 and L-37, respectively, which was one of the reasons this place was like a second home to so many of them. And the fact Lydia, Ashley and Scott were his kids. And Danny and Aidan were his sons-in-law. Jamie was his daughter-in-law. It was literally a family hangout.

  “Red velvet,” Lydia yelled back.

  “What the hell’s wrong with plain, old chocolate?”

  Lydia gave her dad an exasperated look. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

  “So?”

  She just rolled her eyes and kept serving. Since Wren’s drink was still half full, Grant set his empty mug on the bar and grabbed one of the cupcakes. He wasn’t a huge fan of red velvet cake and didn’t have much of a sweet tooth in general, but Wren wanted one.

  They moved out of the way of the others trying to get to the bar, ending up near the wall, under the picture of Bobby Orr.

  Hopefully nobody would break a glass and interrupt them. If you broke a glass at Kincaid’s Pub, you had to kiss Bobby Orr—or, really, kiss your fingertips and press them to the glass—or bad things would happen. And the Kincaid family had the stories to back it up, so it wasn’t really optional.

  “Ladies first,” he said, holding the cupcake out to her, with the napkin under it to keep crumbs from falling in her drink.

  Apparently, the red velvet cupcake was good because she closed her eyes and made a low, throaty sound of pleasure that was so familiar, every muscle in his body tightened in response.

  Her tongue flicked out, swiping at a bit of frosting on her lip. “Now you take a bite.”

  He did as he was told, trying to get mostly cake because he recognized the bakery’s name on the box and their frosting was so sweet his teeth would ache for hours. His body was doing enough aching at the moment.

  “I have to pee,” she whispered once they—mostly she—had finished the cupcake and she’d drained her glass.

  “Let’s go.” He held her hand and walked her down the short hall to the ladies’ room. She gave him a bright smile before disappearing inside, and it took her three tries to lock the door.

  He waited in the hallway, listening for anything that sounded like a woman falling down or passing out, but he didn’t hear anything. He’d give her a couple more minutes and then he was going to knock. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she didn’t answer. Call her? Get Cait? Kicking the door in probably wasn’t a good look.

  Then he heard the water in the sink running, followed shortly after by the thump of the garbage can lid.

  Seeing him in the hall startled her and he grabbed her shoulders because it looked for a second like she was going to crash into the wall.

  “Are you being creepy again?” she asked, giggling.

  “I walked back here with you,” he reminded her. “And I stayed to make sure you’re okay. You’ve had a bit to drink.”

  Her eyes widened, and then she grinned. “I didn’t mean to. But they’re really, really good.”

  She stepped closer to him, and since his hands were already on her upper arms, they slid around her back. When she stretched onto her toes and her face tilted up to his, her intentions were plain.

  Unable to say no to her, he lowered his face and touched his lips to hers. Wren wanted more and tightened her fingers in his hair. She tasted like sweet fruit and alcohol as he devoured her mouth.

  “We should go to your place,” she muttered against his lips.

  That sounded like the best idea he’d heard in a very long time. He lifted his head and smoothed her hair back. “Not tonight, sweetheart.”

  “I know you want to. I can feel it.”

  Grant groaned and tried to put some distance between his erection and her body. “Of course I want to.”

  “And I want to.” She traced his bottom lip with the tip of her finger. “I really, really want to.”

  “But we’re not going to.”

  Her pout made him chuckle. “That’s stupid.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk.” The same fingertip that had stroked his lower lip now jabbed his chest.

  “Okay, you’re not drunk. But you’re also not sober.” He captured her wrists in his hands so she’d stop touching him. “I don’t want you to regret waking up in my bed tomorrow morning.”

  “But I don’t want to regret not being in your bed tonight. I like being in your bed. With you.”

  She was killing him. “You’ll be in my bed when I’m sure it’s you telling me that and not the cocktails. Come on. It’s getting late and Gavin and I have to work tomorrow, so it’s time to head out.”

  He wasn’t sure about her ability to not fall off a stool, so he had her stand at the bar and gave Lydia a look. She chuckled, but nodded to show that she understood Wren was not to wander too far alone.

  Gavin was helping Cait into her coat when Grant found them. Since Cait was still talking to Jamie and another woman Grant didn’t really know, he pulled him aside.

  “I’m gonna need you to drive Wren home.”

  Gavin’s eyebrow lifted. “Huh. I kinda thought she’d be going home with you tonight.”

  “Yeah. We had dinner Sunday night and we kissed, but...we weren’t there yet, if you know what I mean. And the only thing that’s changed between then and now is the alcohol.”

  “I asked Lydia what was in the drinks and then I got bored and wandered off halfway through the list. Wren isn’t the only one who’ll be sorry in the morning.”

  “Yeah.” Tommy’s daughter had outdone herself behind the bar tonight. “But I want to make sure the drinks are the only thing she regrets tomorrow.”

  “You know I’ll get her home.” Gavin gave him a hard look. “But they’ve been drinking red drinks all night and eating red velvet cupcakes. If either of them gets sick in my truck, you’re paying to have it reconditioned.”

  Grant cringed. “You might want to steal a bucket from the kitchen.”

  After helping Wren get her arms into her coat, which was no easy task, he walked out to Gavin’s truck with them. He helped her step onto the running board and into the backseat without falling, and then fastened her seat belt for her.

  “You’re so sweet,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

  “I have to work tomorrow, but I’ll text you and see how you’re doing.” He pulled her hand down because her fingers were tightening and tugging, and he didn’t want to put on a show for the others. “It won’t be too early, though.”

  “Okay.”

  He kissed her quickly and then slapped the back of driver’s seat. “Good luck, man.”

  “Yo
u owe me,” Gavin said.

  Grant laughed and, after making sure Wren was totally in, he closed the door. He could hear the women singing as the truck pulled away and he knew Gavin was going to save that IOU until he came up with a doozy.

  Once the truck was out of sight, he shoved his hands in his pockets and made the walk to his Jeep. Alone.

  Chapter Ten

  Wren woke up in her own bed with a headache, served with a generous side of mortification as memories of last night played in her mind.

  Lydia made one hell of a cocktail. Not that it was the alcohol’s fault. Wren had been having a good time and then Grant walked in and she...just lost track of how many drinks she’d had.

  Thank goodness he was a gentleman. Not that she’d be sorry to be waking up in his bed this morning. Her desire for him hadn’t been the alcohol talking. It had just made her a little more expressive about the entire thing.

  But it would have been an awkward morning after.

  And she would have questioned whether he’d actually been ready for this relationship do-over to move to the bedroom or if he’d just taken what was very freely offered to him.

  Eventually Wren forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom, where she took a quick shower and gave thanks for the bottle of ibuprofen she found in the medicine cabinet.

  Then she went downstairs, not expecting to find anybody in the kitchen. Patty would have already left for work and Carter would be at school.

  But Patty was seated at the table, sipping coffee. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” Wren poured herself a mug of coffee and carried it to the table. “No work today?”

  “I guess I’ve reached that age where getting up early after a night out with friends isn’t as easy as it used to be.” She laughed weakly. “I called in sick and went back to bed for a little while. Want some toast?”

  Wren took a triangle of raisin toast from the plate Patty pushed toward her. “Thank you.”

  “You guys were out late last night.” Patty smiled. “I was surprised you weren’t facedown on the couch this morning.”