“You just had the wind knocked out of you, like you said. Even though you didn’t lose consciousness, you’re not going back in, though. You’re a spectator now.”
They were all spectators while other crews finally knocked the fire down completely. Then they helped out with the overhaul until they were free to pack it up and head back to the station.
“You had to jinx it,” Aidan said to Grant on the way back. “Saying out loud you hope it’s quiet because you have plans is a sure way to end up in a shit show in the middle of the night.”
“No shit.” He leaned his head back, wondering if there would be any time at all for a power nap by the time they’d wrapped up things in the engine bays and cleaned up. Even if he didn’t take a shower now, it probably wouldn’t be worth hitting his bunk. He’d have to go home and sleep for at least a few hours, and then he could finally get Wren and get the hell out of the city for the weekend.
Chapter Sixteen
When they crossed the border into New Hampshire, Wren felt the anxiety creeping in. And when Grant pulled the Jeep off the highway and onto winding, tree-lined roads, the nerves had her shifting in her seat.
“Do you have to pee again?”
She gave him some serious side-eye. “No, I do not.”
“You’re squirming like a toddler over there and you drank all my soda. There’s a gas station about a mile up, so I figured I’d ask.”
“I didn’t drink all your soda. I only had a little.”
“But it was the last of it, so technically you drank it all.”
“I had no idea car trips with you would be so much fun.”
He laughed. “I’m not the one who has to pee every ten miles.”
“You’re exaggerating. And I’m nervous. When I’m nervous, I need things to do, but I’m trapped in the car, so I drank my soda. And some of your soda.” She frowned. “The sugar didn’t help the nerves.”
“We’re supposed to be coming here to relax. What are you nervous about?”
“This is going to be weird.”
“Why? You’ve met my family a couple of times.”
“But not like this.”
His parents had driven down to Boston one day and they’d all had dinner together, about the time Wren had admitted to herself trying to keep a wall around herself hadn’t worked and she was in love with Grant. Several times after that, they’d met his parents—along with Grant’s brother, sister-in-law and their daughter—halfway between at different restaurants to visit for a couple of hours.
“What, because you haven’t been to the house?”
She sighed, looking out her window at the passing scenery. “No. It doesn’t matter where we see them. No matter what you say, your mother’s not going to forgive me for what I did. And you won’t know if she puts anything in my food unless you spend the whole time in the kitchen.”
“Wait. You don’t actually think my mom would do that, right? Like poison your food or make you sick or something?”
She laughed. “No. I’m aware it’s just a funny way of saying she won’t want me there, but will tolerate my presence for your sake.”
“Okay, just checking.”
“And we’re already running late.” She glanced at the clock again, and they were tipping past early afternoon.
“That’s not your fault.” He lifted a hand in a what are you gonna do gesture. “That would be the guy who decided to toss his cigarette butt off his deck into his neighbor’s recycling at two in the morning.”
“Maybe you should stop at that gas station.”
“I already planned on it.”
When they stopped, Wren took her time in the restroom while Grant topped off the Jeep’s gas tank. After splashing cold water on her face, she tried to smooth down her hair. It was nerves, she knew. She’d looked absolutely fine when she glanced in the mirror before they left and all she’d done was sit in the Jeep. There was no way she looked as frumpy as her brain told her she did right now.
Just nerves. The only thing she could do was have faith in Grant. If his mother wasn’t ready to accept Wren back in her son’s life, he wouldn’t bring her home with him.
Her stomach still got jumpy when he pulled off a back road onto a smaller back road, though. It was beautiful, with ice sparkling in the trees that separated the road from snow-blanketed fields, and Grant reached over and squeezed her thigh.
“I know you can’t possibly have to pee again already,” he said, “so you’re worrying over there. Stop. It’s going to be fine.”
Even though it felt as if it was about ten degrees, not counting the breeze, Don and Jill Cutter were standing on the front porch of the big, white New Englander-style house when Grant killed the Jeep’s engine.
“You ready?”
She gave him a nervous smile. “If I say no, what happens? Do we just sit in the Jeep for a while?”
“We can, but I’m not starting the engine again so you’ll get cold pretty quick.” He leaned across the center console and gave her a quick kiss, and it did help calm her a little. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm. And there’s food.”
He got out before she could respond and walked around to open her door. The cold was more intense here and Grant was right. It certainly got her moving.
“It’s good to see you again,” Don said, holding out his hand as they reached the top step of the porch. She shook it while Grant hugged his mother.
“Wren.” After looking at her for a long moment, Jill stepped forward and opened her arms. “I’m so glad you could come.”
It wasn’t the warmest hug she’d ever received, but it wasn’t a stiff formality, either. No doubt it would be a while before they forgave her for what she’d done to their son, but she was welcome here, nonetheless.
“Let’s get out of the cold,” Don said, ushering them all into the house.
With Grant’s hand at the small of her back, she got a brief tour of the downstairs. It was decorated in a classy, neutral style that was homey and welcoming, but not cluttered. It reminded her a lot of Grant’s apartment, just more spacious.
She couldn’t help pausing to look more closely at a grouping of family photos. There were several of Grant and his brother—they looked so much alike, and were both younger versions of their dad—at various ages. A few family photos, including a trip to Disney when the boys were young. And there was an old black-and-white photo of a woman posed with a man decked out in firefighting gear.
“My grandmother was a red phone operator,” Don explained when she leaned in to see it better.
“Like a dispatcher?”
“Kind of. Before the town had a dispatch system, there was a group of women who answered emergency calls and then had to notify all the firefighters when there was a fire. I’m pretty sure it was my mom’s stories about her that first made Grant want to be a firefighter.”
“She did it just to spite me,” Jill said. “That woman never did like me.”
Wren was startled, but when Grant and his dad laughed and she saw Jill’s smile, she realized this must be an old family joke.
“Mom would prefer I work as a test dummy in a bubble wrap factory,” Grant said, and his mom rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny it.
“I need to finish getting dinner ready,” Jill said. “Why don’t you take Wren and your bags upstairs and show her where she’ll be staying. I made up the guest room for her.”
Wren had to stifle a giggle as she followed Grant up the stairs. “I really wish you could remember what you said that night.”
* * *
Grant showed Wren to the guest room, which was at the opposite end of the second floor from his room. Or rather, the room that had been his and was now the guest room that didn’t have its own half bath. And they said chivalry was dead.
“So this is it,” he said. He wasn’t sure what else to say,
since it was a bedroom. Double bed. Dresser. Nightstand. Quilt. It was pretty self-explanatory. “The bathroom’s that door, and that one’s the closet.”
“I’m glad you told me which is which,” she teased.
“Okay, I’m a little nervous,” he confessed. “It’s important to me that you’re comfortable here.”
“Relax.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. “I think you’re more wound up than I am right now.”
“This helps.” He kissed her, running his hands down her back to the curve of her ass.
She nipped at his bottom lip. “None of that. You know the rules.”
“You’re, uh...curing that problem I had, so we need to get back downstairs before I get in trouble.”
“That wasn’t much of a challenge.” She laughed and let him go. “You go ahead. I’m going to use the bathroom and freshen up, and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Grant forced himself to walk out of the room because rising to the challenge didn’t mean he was going to get busy with Wren under his mother’s roof. He’d take the humiliation of that night to his grave.
He found his mom in the kitchen and a quick scan of the prep she was doing made him a very happy man. “Pork roast?”
“I haven’t made it in a while, and you coming home seems like a good excuse for it. Where’s Wren?”
“Freshening up. She’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She looked him over with her supermom emotional X-ray vision. “You look happier.”
He tried not to read too much into the happier instead of just happy. “I am.”
“I’ve been worried about you.”
“You don’t need to be.” Not that she would stop. Grant could barely pick up a fork without his mom worrying he was going to hurt himself with it. She’d cried herself to sleep the night he told her he was going to be a firefighter.
“Don’t you tell me I don’t need to worry,” she said in her sternest mom voice, punctuating her words by pointing the spatula at him. “I’m going to ask you a question and I know you might not answer it, but I’m going to ask it anyway.”
This wasn’t going to be good. “Go ahead and ask.”
“Wren lost everything at the same time she crossed paths with you again, and I just...” She trailed off, frowning. “I’m not sure how to frame the question.”
“Mom.” She didn’t have to. “The morning after the fire, I bought her breakfast. I took her shopping for a few essentials, and she paid for what she bought. She even insists on paying rent to Patty even though Patty fought her on it.”
“I’m not trying to insult her, honey. But I worry about you.”
“I know that.” And he appreciated it. “Did she know I would take care of her if she needed it? Yes. But she didn’t ask me to. She didn’t expect it.”
His mom nodded. “Good. Then I’ll lay that concern to rest.”
It was good timing, too, since he heard Wren’s footsteps descending the wooden stairs and called out to her. “We’re in the kitchen.”
“That smells amazing,” Wren said as she walked in, pointedly not looking at him.
He really hoped she didn’t start laughing at him and force him to explain to his mother why she was so amused.
But she didn’t. “What can I do to help?”
His mom looked around. “I’m finishing up the gravy, so if you want to mash those potatoes, we can eat soon. Grant, go visit with your father.”
Dismissed, he gave Wren a reassuring smile and then went in search of his dad. He wasn’t hard to find.
Every evening, before dinner, his father sat on the front porch for a few minutes. It didn’t matter that it was winter. It was a habit he’d had for as long as Grant could remember. He claimed it let him clear his head and put the work day behind him so he could enjoy dinner and the evening with his family.
But even though it was his time, he’d never minded if one or both of his sons joined him, so Grant sat in one of the wooden chairs and leaned his head back.
It was pretty, he thought, despite the low temperature. The lights from the house reflected on the snow and the trees that separated the property from the road were dusted with fresh powder. It was quiet and peaceful.
This had been the dream. All those times he’d mentally rehearsed asking Wren to be his wife, this was the dream he’d been asking her to share with him.
A house with a porch for sitting together at the end of a long day. If he stayed with Boston Fire and they had made their life there, the view would have been different, but there would still have been a porch swing and holding hands. Family. Friends. Food. Laughter.
“I guess your mother’s probably fussed over you,” his dad said after a few minutes.
“Yeah. She threatened me with the spatula when I told her not to worry about me.”
“You should have seen her after you said you were bringing that woman home with you.”
“That woman. Is that what Mom calls her?”
“When she’s feeling generous.” He turned his head so they could share a you know how she gets look. “She told me Wren’s story. Sounds like she could have saved you both some heartache if she’d just told you what was going on.”
Even though he’d obviously thought that himself, he was compelled to defend Wren. “She admits she reacted out of fear and didn’t think it through.”
“You’re saying her instinct told her to run.”
Grant’s entire life, people had told him he was just like his dad and he was pretty damn proud of that. But it also meant they shared a similar thought process and he didn’t like having his own thoughts said out loud to him. “I guess so.”
“Even though she knew you loved her.”
“Yeah, I thought I loved her. But I guess I didn’t really know her well enough to truly love her, did I?” He shrugged one shoulder, a casual gesture that belied the emotions careening around in his head. “Because she didn’t love me enough to share her story with me and I thought she did.”
His dad made that mmm...maybe sound that drove him nuts. “That’s how we see it. But I don’t know what it feels like to be helpless while a man I’m afraid of beats my brother so badly he has to be hospitalized. I think if I watched that happen, I’d have a whole lot of fear of watching him beat somebody else I loved that badly.”
“And her brother told her it was her fault and hasn’t spoken to her since.”
“Oh, that ain’t right. Hard to trust people who say they’ve got your back once your own family doesn’t.”
Grant shook his head and sighed, watching his breath form an icy cloud. “I think I would have. But like you said, we don’t know what it feels like to be in the situation she was in.”
The big door opened, followed by the screen door opening just enough for Wren to see them. “Dinner’s ready.”
Considering their conversation, Grant was relieved when his dad gave her a warm smile. “We’ll be right in. I hope you like roast pork, because my wife’s is the best.”
“I haven’t had her roast pork yet, but I was the gravy taste tester, and it’s delicious.”
Once Wren had gone back inside and closed the door against the cold, neither of them moved right away.
“You just do what’s right for you, son. If you’re meant to be together, it’ll be what’s right for both of you.”
Grant chuckled. “That’s very cryptic of you.”
“You guys didn’t come with an instruction book. I have to make this stuff up on the fly.”
“You wouldn’t have read it, anyway.”
“True.” His dad stood and stretched his back. “But your mother would have and if I screwed up too badly, she’d slap me upside the head with it.”
Grant laughed at the imagery, though his mother had never whacked him with a spatula or—as far as he k
new—cuffed his father with a book. But she did like to wave things around when she got heated.
You just do what’s right for you, son. If you’re meant to be together, it’ll be what’s right for both of you. Cryptic though it might be, Grant turned his father’s advice over in his mind, hoping he was right.
* * *
After dinner, they gathered in the family room and the guys put a game on the television, but kept the volume low. The conversation was friendly and there was a lot of laughter thanks to Jill spilling some funny stories from Grant’s childhood. They asked Wren about her work and she talked about the salon and the market.
“You know,” Jill said after a long pause, “I know I asked you about your family, but I can’t remember what you said. I feel awful.”
“Please don’t.” Wren’s cheeks felt hot and she was thankful when Grant reached over and squeezed her hand. “I know Grant told you about my brother and he was all the family I had left, so I probably distracted you somehow and changed the subject before you realized I didn’t answer the question. I was good at that, and I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“Well, I am. But my dad left when I was very little and my mother died when I was in high school, so I don’t have any family for you guys to meet.”
To her credit, Jill didn’t overdo the sympathy. She gave Wren a warm smile. “Then I’m very glad you found Grant because lord knows, he comes with a big circle of friends and family. He brought them all up to go four-wheeling one weekend a couple of years back and, I swear, I almost went and stayed at a hotel.”
Wren laughed, relieved at the conversational redirection. “When I first met them, I didn’t think I’d ever remember all their names. I was tempted to sneak pictures of them and write their names on them.”
“You guys should come down and visit again soon,” Grant said. “It’s been a while.”
“Your mother wants to see those big sailing ships when they come in the harbor,” Don said. “See if you can find out when they’re doing that and we’ll figure something out.”
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