“I’m glad you want to stay,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I want you to stay, too.”
Chapter Fifteen
Right after they opened the doors wasn’t a busy time for Kincaid’s Pub, so Wren was able to get a table easily. She picked one close enough to the bar so Lydia would be able to stop by and chat easily, but not so close that Tommy and Fitz would be able to hear that chatting from their corner.
Cait showed up a few minutes later, slightly out of breath from a brisk walk in the cold air. “I had to park down the street because I have Gavin’s truck while my car’s in the shop and I need two spaces in a row to parallel park. I swear that thing is huge.”
“You sound like a woman who deserves a drink,” Lydia said, dropping a couple of menus on the table.
“You know, I think I’ll have a glass of wine with my lunch,” Cait said. “Do you drink red or white with cheeseburgers?”
“Let’s play it safe and get a rosé,” Wren suggested. She wasn’t a huge fan of wine, but she didn’t want one of Lydia’s cocktails in the middle of the day and she didn’t care for beer. Soda was an option, but what kind of friend would let Cait day drink alone?
When she’d gotten the text message from Cait suggesting lunch, she’d jumped at the chance. She didn’t need to be at the market until four tonight, since she’d be staying a little later than usual to help polish the floors, so she had time.
Lydia brought their wine and took their orders, but other customers were filtering in, so she couldn’t hang around.
“What’s going on in your life?” Cait asked. “Anything new and interesting?”
“Did you hear Grant’s taking me home to his parents for the weekend?”
She grinned. “I didn’t hear that. Are you excited about it?”
“I’m not sure excited is the word I’d use. I’m happy that he wants me to go with him. But I don’t know if his parents—especially his mom—will be quite so happy about it.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but you worry too much. They liked you before and they’ll still like you.” She held up her hand. “And yes, there was that one time you broke their son’s heart, but if he can forgive you, so can they. And, I mean, look at us. We’re practically his family, too, and we’re all glad to have you back. They will be, too.”
Wren wished she could be as sure of that as Cait sounded. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Possibly over a stronger drink than wine.”
“Oh, we are so getting together after. We should do this more often. Every week might be hard to manage because neither of us have super set schedules, but every other week is doable.”
“Definitely.” Wren grabbed the edge of the table so she could shift her chair, but the twinge in her elbow made her wince. The chair could stay where it was.
“What’s wrong with your arm?”
“Nothing.” It wasn’t a big deal, but Cait just gave her a hard look, eyebrow arched. “Wow, you take that whole EMT thing pretty seriously. I bet most people do what you tell them.”
“Actually, you’d be surprised how many patients refuse to listen or even let us look at them. But you’re easy. What happened to your arm?”
Lydia was on her way past with a basket of nachos, but she paused when she heard Cait’s question. “I want to hear this. Talk fast.”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Oh, then I definitely want to hear it. But hold on. Don’t tell until I get back.” Lydia delivered the appetizer and took the table’s lunch order in record time, and then she was back. “Okay, spill it.”
“You know you’re going to tell us,” Cait said. “The longer you resist, the more awkward it feels, so just spill the details.”
“Fine.” Wren frowned and rubbed the sore spot. “Last night, Grant picked me up at work because he wanted to talk to me about going to New Hampshire this weekend and—”
Lydia held up her hand. “Wait, you’re going home to the parents this weekend?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a pretty big deal.”
“I feel like the elbow story is a bigger deal,” Cait said.
“Lydia!” Tommy’s bellow echoed through the bar. People didn’t go to Kincaid’s looking for a quiet atmosphere.
“Just a second,” his daughter bellowed back. “Okay, fine. Skip the parents and get to the elbow.”
“He had to work this morning, so we were just going for a drive and—”
“Lydia, dammit!”
“Hold on!” She gave Wren a look.
“We had sex in his Jeep and my elbow is not only sore, but slightly Jeep-seat burned.”
Both women laughed, and Lydia was still laughing when her father yelled a third time and she walked away.
“How on earth did you have sex in a Wrangler in the winter, with the top on?” Cait took a sip of her wine. “You know, I can’t decide if that’s a rhetorical question or not. On the one hand, I really don’t need the finer details of Grant’s sex life in my head, but on the other, I really want to know how it’s physically possible.”
“I can tell you it is physically possible, but it’s a little uncomfortable and can lead to having to tell your friends how you got embarrassing injuries.”
“Oh, speaking of sex.” Cait pulled a paperback book out of the bag she’d slung over the back of the chair. “You need to read this one.”
“I don’t know anything about football.”
“Look at the guy on the cover, Wren. The book lives up to that cover and, trust me, you don’t need to know anything about football. Just read it.”
“I definitely will.” She slid the book to the side of the table, where it would be safe from the drinks. “As soon as I’m done with the one I’m reading.”
“Not still the horror novel?”
“Yes. It’s good, but it scares the crap out of me, so I can only read a little bit at a time.”
Horror was where their reading tastes diverged. Cait had told her she used to read them, but nowadays she preferred books with happy endings. “Do yourself a favor and read this one in between scaring the crap out of yourself. I mean, there’s no Jeep-seat burn or anything, but it’s still pretty sexy.”
Wren laughed. “Now I know how Grant is feeling when he says ‘you’re going to tell that story forever, aren’t you’ to Gavin.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
When Lydia brought their meals, she had a few minutes to sit. She stole French fries from Wren’s popcorn chicken platter and Cait’s pickles while they talked about a movie they all wanted to see that was releasing the next month.
“Aidan said he’d go see it with me if I really wanted him to, but he sounded less excited than the time he told me he might need a root canal.” Lydia shrugged. “I’d rather go with you guys.”
Cait nodded. “What do you think the chances are of all of us going together?”
“Pretty slim,” Lydia said. “We should get Olivia on board. If anybody can plan a trip to the movies with a bunch of women with crazy schedules, it’s her.”
“Lydia, am I paying you to sit on your ass and visit with your friends?”
She looked over at her dad. “Since I’m on the clock right now, yes. You are, in fact, paying me to sit on my ass and visit with my friends.”
“You’re even more of a smart-ass than your brother. This is why Ashley’s my favorite, you know.”
She just waved a hand in his direction and stole another fry. “I’ll text Olivia and get her on this. We’ll probably all have a detailed itinerary, complete with a list of the candy offerings the theater has, by the end of the week.”
“I’m so glad Derek found her,” Cait said. “Those kinds of logistics make my head hurt but she thrives on this stuff.”
“So, Lydia, have you started thinking of baby names yet?”
&nb
sp; When she groaned, Wren realized she’d managed to step on a possibly sore subject. “Apparently, my dad was a little disappointed his first grandchild was not named after him. Jackson Kincaid Walsh was not enough. So now, my brother and I are both on the hook. There are expectations, Wren.”
“Maybe you’ll have a girl,” Cait said.
Lydia gave her a flat look. “He said, and I quote, ‘Thomasina’s a great name for a girl,’ and I’m not even lying. He said we could call her Tommy even though she’s a girl.”
“Okay, that’s...” Wren stopped talking because she didn’t know what to say.
“Thomasina Joyce Hunt,” Lydia said. “Joyce was my mom’s name.”
“Or Joyce Thomasina Hunt,” Cait threw in.
“Oh, no. You’ve met him. He wants a Tommy.”
“Jamie’s due first,” Wren pointed out. “Maybe she’ll give him a namesake and you’ll be off the hook.”
“She said she’d cross her legs and hold her baby in because she doesn’t want to deal with this.”
Cait snorted. “As somebody who’s delivered babies in surprising places, I can tell you that, from a medical standpoint, that’s an empty threat. What does Aidan say? I mean, it’s his baby, too.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “You know he adores my dad. And he’s also had some practice navigating the Kincaid family, so his response? Whatever makes me happy.”
“That’s sweet,” Wren said.
“No, that’s taking himself out of the line of fire.” She sighed and took another fry. “Scott said maybe one of us should get a dog named Tommy because nobody can realistically expect you to name your child the same name as your dog.”
“I’ve gotten to know your family a little,” Wren said. “And, honestly, that’s probably your best move.”
They were all laughing when movement in the corner of Wren’s eye caught her attention, and she turned her head in time to see a fellow diner stand too fast and bump her table. The empty glass fell off the edge and smashed onto the floor.
Immediately, Lydia was on her feet, making sure the woman hadn’t cut herself. Then she put her hands on her hips. “You have to kiss Bobby Orr.”
The woman must not have been a regular customer because she looked confused. “I have to what?”
“See that signed picture of Bobby Orr on the wall? When you break a glass, you have to kiss the picture or really bad things happen.” Wren smiled when the woman’s eyes widened. But Lydia only nodded. “I’m serious. Just kiss your fingertips and press them to the glass. It counts and, trust me, you don’t actually want your mouth on that.”
Once the ritual had been completed, everybody went back to what they were doing, and Lydia went back to work behind the bar.
“I love this place,” Wren said.
“I do, too,” Cait agreed. “But sometimes I wonder what it must look like to people who just wander in here randomly, looking for a beer or a meal.”
“There are probably people who only come here once.” Wren shrugged. “Those aren’t our people.”
Cait laughed. “No, they’re not.”
These were Wren’s people, she thought. Cait and Lydia and all the rest of them. Grant wasn’t the only person she’d missed while she was gone, though she’d certainly missed him the most. And she recognized how blessed she was to have them let her back in.
“I’m going to hate myself,” Cait said. “But you have to give me a few details of the Wrangler sex because I just can’t picture it.”
Wren laughed. “I’m not sure I want you picturing it.”
“Not you two specifically. That would be weird. But in a general sense, considering he’s fairly tall, I’m not grasping the physics of it. So spill.” She paused with her wineglass halfway to her mouth. “But in very broad terms, of course. Obviously it involved your elbow and the seat fabric.”
“I’m not drawing it on a napkin. Just so you know.”
“Oh, it’s that complicated?” Cait grinned. “I might need another glass of wine.”
* * *
“The women are up to something again,” Derek said, holding up his phone as if they could read the screen he was waving around. “Olivia needs me to reschedule a thing because there’s apparently one night, and one night only, next month when all the women are available at the same time.”
Grant raised his hands, palms out. “I don’t even want to know. And I definitely don’t want to know where they’ll be.”
“You say that now.” Gavin rolled his eyes. “I’m just telling you now that I’m forbidden from using Cait’s phone location to help any idiots—meaning you—crash girls’ nights out in the future, so you’ll have to find them on your own.”
“You stopped being funny a long time ago, Gav.” Grant turned his attention back to the television, though he was dying to know what the women were planning. If he kept his mouth shut, he knew he’d find out, though. The other guys would find out and talk about it. He just didn’t want to be the one who asked.
“You’re in a mood tonight,” Chris said. “Wren shut you off?”
“Don’t worry about me and Wren. We’re good. I’m in a mood because there’s nothing going on and the checklists are all done and there’s nothing to do but sit and listen to you guys talk about nothing.”
Wren hadn’t shut him off, but he also hadn’t seen her since the night they’d gotten busy in his Jeep after they’d decided that wasn’t something they should try. They not only tried, but they succeeded. Her elbow got a little beat up and they snapped off the passenger-side visor, but they’d both agreed it was worth it.
He’d had to work the next day, and then she’d been the one who was busy. She had lunch with Cait on Wednesday, but then she was either at the salon, the market or sleeping after that. And she wasn’t sleeping in his bed, where he could at least hold her while she slept.
But tomorrow morning he was going to pick her up and they’d head north. He’d have her mostly to himself for two days. No wise-cracking best friends. No bosses. No ex-boyfriends to worry about.
Just the two of them. And his parents, of course.
She still wouldn’t be sleeping in his bed, but she’d be under the same roof, at least. In his childhood home, which wasn’t just the place he’d grown up, but was the place that first popped into his head when he heard the word home. Hopefully that would change someday and wherever Wren was would be his true home.
“I think I’m going to hit the racks,” he said, sick of the banter going on around him. “We’re heading for New Hampshire tomorrow and I’m hoping we have a quiet night so we can leave first thing in the morning.”
He shouldn’t have said it out loud, he thought later, when the tone sounded in the wee hours and they all stumbled out of their bunks and into their gear.
They were the first on scene and it was a mess. Not only was there a house on fire, but a police officer was doing his best to separate two men who seemed intent on beating the crap out of each other on the sidewalk. One of the guys was in the kind of button-down pajamas Grant thought only catalog models wore and the other just had boxers on, so there was some serious dedication to hurting each other, considering the low temps.
“You just throw your damn cigarettes off your deck and you don’t even look,” pajama guy was yelling.
“Close your fucking recycling lid and they’ll bounce off,” boxer dude shouted back, and he didn’t sound sober.
“Enough,” Rick Gullotti shouted as he got out of the truck. “You two morons cut the shit and get out of our way or I’ll hose you both down.”
That got their attention long enough for a second police officer to join in the fun. Each officer took a combatant and went in opposite directions and the crews got to work.
The melted plastic that had presumably been the recycling bin in question had been against the ancient wood and ragged shin
gles of the garage wall. The garage was fully involved, but the guys hustled, wanting to keep it from destroying the house it was attached to.
The wind was picking up, too, so they also had to make sure the fire didn’t spread to the other buildings packed together in the dense neighborhood, including the house the cigarette had come from.
It was grueling work, but they kept pushing and managed to get it under control. The occupants of the house would need a place to stay for a while, but it wasn’t a total loss.
They were knocking down the last of it when a gas tank or something exploded and at the edge of what peripheral vision the SCBA mask allowed him, Grant saw a body get thrown backward. He’d ducked away from the blast, so it took him a few seconds to scramble to his feet, yelling into the radio.
It was Danny and for a moment Grant’s fear was so strong he could taste it, like a metallic tang in his mouth. When Danny started pushing himself to his feet, Grant grabbed him by the coat and half dragged him toward the door. Scott appeared next to him, so they were able to get him out of the way as the other guys tried to deal with the aftermath.
“I can walk,” Danny yelled as they crossed the yard, his feet sliding as he tried to dig his boots into the icy crust that was all that was left of the snow in the yard. “Dammit. Stop, right now.”
They stopped. Finally able to get his feet under him, Danny stood, though neither Grant nor Scott let go of his coat. He was weaving some, as if he’d had too much to drink, and Grant wasn’t taking the chance he’d fall on his face.
With their LT down, Engine 59’s crew pulled out and another crew went in. An ambulance was on standby, but Danny seemed to be okay by the time they got him to it. A little unsteady, but okay.
“It just knocked the wind out of me,” Danny said. “I’m fine.”
“Then it won’t take long to check you out,” the EMT said firmly.
Even before Gavin had hooked up with Cait, Grant knew there was no point in arguing with Boston EMS. The guy made quick work of it, though, and decided there was no reason for Danny to take a trip to the hospital.
Flare Up Page 14
