Flare Up

by Shannon Stacey

  That turned the conversation to other things to do while visiting Boston, and Wren and Jill talked about the things they both wanted to see. Neither of the guys had much interest in the museums, so Jill seemed thrilled when Wren offered to see them with her.

  The visit was going a lot better than she’d dared hope, even though she knew Jill was still holding back a little, as if she was using company manners. When they’d met in the past, there had been a warmth there that wasn’t quite as warm now.

  It didn’t take long before Don nodded off in his recliner which, judging by the affection in the glance and eyeroll Jill gave him, was a common occurrence. And a few minutes later, Wren heard Grant’s snores join his dad’s.

  “When he sent me a text telling me you guys would be later in the day,” his mom said softly, “he just said it had been a long night and he had to take a nap.”

  “It was a fire and Danny Walsh almost got hurt, and Grant said when things like that happen, it’s hard to sleep when they get back.”

  Jill shook her head. “I did everything I could to talk that boy out of being a firefighter.”

  “I worry about him a lot,” Wren confessed. “But it might be easier for me because I’m surrounded by the people he fights fires with and the people who worry about them, so it’s just the way we live our lives, I guess. We worry, but we also know they’re always as safe as they can be because they’re a family, too. I can’t really imagine him doing anything else.”

  “Me, either. It’s hard to picture him wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk like his brother does, and they’re both doing jobs that make them happy, which is I guess the best a mother could ask for.” She chuckled, and neither man even stirred. “Even though their happiness doesn’t keep me from worrying about them.”

  Wren turned her head to look at Grant, who had his arms crossed and would have looked like he was watching the game, if not for his closed eyes and the snoring. Don was in practically the same position in his chair, and she noted how much they looked alike, especially in profile.

  As if he could sense her staring, Grant opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. His expression softened and he gave her a sleepy smile. “I’m just resting my eyes.”

  “Like father, like son,” Jill muttered, and Wren laughed.

  She was aware of how carefully they skirted any discussion of the fire or the months she was away. As much as she enjoyed the evening, the avoidance felt like an elephant in the room to her and it was a relief when the signals were given that it was time to head to bed. And she wasn’t surprised when Grant walked her to her room when it was time to turn in. He’d been on his best behavior in front of his mom, but he was going to want a kiss goodnight.

  * * *

  “You’re going to be okay in here?” Grant asked. He’d waited while she went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, and now he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

  “It’s a guest room, not a broom closet,” she teased. “I’ll be fine. I’m getting pretty good at being a houseguest, I guess.”

  “My parents get up early, so the coffee will probably be ready before you get up.”

  His parents had been nice to her, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with his mom before she was fully caffeinated. “Will you text me when you wake up?”

  “Are you going to pretend you’re asleep until I go downstairs?”

  His tone was teasing, but there was no judgment in it. The way he gave her space to pull back when she needed to was one of the reasons she’d fallen in love with him. “I might.”

  “I’ll text you.” He pulled the quilt up to her shoulders. “You’re sure you’re warm enough?”

  “I’m sure.”

  When he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, she kept her arms under the quilt like a good girl. Even when his tongue flicked over her bottom lip. By the time he was done giving her a very thorough kiss goodnight, Wren was more than warm enough.

  She chuckled when he had to clear his throat before he spoke. “I definitely have to go now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Sweet dreams,” she responded, smiling when he groaned.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Wren had been afraid she wouldn’t be able to sleep without the sounds of the city. It was quiet here, except for crickets and the very occasional sound of a vehicle passing by on the road. But there was something about snuggling into warm blankets in a slightly chilly room that made sleeping easy and she woke to her phone chiming.

  I’m awake. Are you sitting on the edge of your bed, fully dressed, waiting for me?

  She’d expected to be. Not yet.

  I’m going down. I’ll save you some coffee.

  Because she didn’t want to hang out with his parents in her pajamas, she took her bag into the bathroom and got dressed and brushed her teeth before going downstairs.

  They were all in the kitchen, and his mom smiled when she saw her. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

  “I don’t even remember the last time I slept so soundly. Thank you.”

  “I don’t know how any of you sleep in that city. It’s like trying to sleep in the middle of an action movie. How do you like your eggs, Wren?”

  “However everybody else is having them is fine.” She took the coffee mug Grant handed her and smiled her thanks.

  “I’ll just scramble up a big batch, then.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I’ve already got the toast keeping warm in the oven, so just sit and drink your coffee. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  “It’s going to be warm today,” Grant said. “I was thinking we could take the snowmobile out for a spin.”

  She gave him a look that made him laugh. She’d never been on a snowmobile and that word snow kept her from having any real desire to try it. “Define warm.”

  “It’s supposed to hit twenty-five,” his dad said. “Perfect weather for it.”

  Twenty-five degrees sounded like perfect weather for going back to bed. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t pack any clothes for going whatever-miles-per-hour through twenty-five degree air, but I’m sure it would have been fun. So sad. Maybe next time.”

  “You can wear my gear, Wren,” his mom said from the stove. “It’ll be a little big on you, but not too bad.”

  Grant’s smug grin made her want to kick him under the table. “Mom has good gear. You’ll be plenty warm enough.”

  “You can take our two-up,” his dad added. “Just had her tuned up and the belt changed and she’s running great.”

  Wren had no idea what any of that meant, other than the Cutter family was unanimous in their desire to get her on a machine that offered no protection from the below-freezing temperature. Maybe it was some kind of twisted payback.

  When Grant’s foot nudged her ankle, she looked over at him. “I really think you’ll enjoy it.”

  The way he said it—and the sincerity in his expression—made it plain it wasn’t a twisted revenge plot. He knew her and he honestly believed she would have a good time. And she knew him, so she knew if she didn’t like it, he’d turn around and find something else for them to do.

  “It seems like a good day to try something new, I guess,” she said.

  And that’s how, an hour after they finished eating, Wren found herself swallowed up by outdoor gear. She felt like a toddler who’d been bundled up to build snowmen and she was thankful she’d gone to pee before Grant started layering her up. First she was sent to put borrowed wool base layers under her clothes, along with wool socks because her cotton blend ones were a serious no-no. Then bibs, which reminded her of the snow pants she’d worn as a kid, except heavier and a much higher quality. They helped her put on the boots, which were definitely too big for her, so more wool socks were added. A lightweight coat liner was followed by a wool hood wi
th a long neck that tucked into it. Then a heavy coat. Gloves. Finally, a helmet over the wool hood, which Grant buckled for her.

  If she had to pee again, she was in trouble.

  “You look adorable,” he said after tugging on the helmet’s buckle to make sure it was secure.

  “I feel very...round.”

  “But adorably round.”

  He’d already pulled the snowmobile out of the garage, and she’d been thrilled to see it had an actual passenger seat with a back rest and little shields to help deflect the wind from her hands. She guessed that’s what two-up meant. It sounded like a big, souped-up lawnmower, but he looked so happy, she didn’t comment on it.

  And unlike her, he managed to look pretty hot in his gear. It was black and hugged his body more, but she wasn’t sure if it was because he had more fashionable snowmobile gear than his mother or because his actually fit him.

  “You ready?”

  Since she was becoming uncomfortably aware that gear meant to protect you at high speeds in cold weather was not meant for standing around in the yard and she was in danger of overheating, she nodded. Then she waddled over to the machine and very ungracefully climbed up to straddle the passenger seat.

  “Hold on,” his mom called, and Wren groaned. She didn’t want to climb back off the damn thing with an audience, other than Grant, because it wasn’t going to be pretty. “Once you get on, I want to get a picture. It’s her first time.”

  Grant rolled his eyes, but Wren felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the many layers she was wearing. There was a certain acceptance implied by his mom wanting a picture of them together, and she was grateful for it.

  Once his mom had checked the screen to make sure she liked the photo and given them a wave, Grant plugged a cord from her helmet into a port in the snowmobile and lowered her face shield for her.

  “It’s heated so it won’t fog up,” he explained. Then he climbed on in front of her and started the engine again.

  Wren squealed when it lurched forward, but she hoped the shield on the helmet meant nobody could hear her.

  He drove around the house and across the backyard—which was more like a back field—and through a break in the trees she hadn’t even noticed was there. The trail was narrow and twisty through woods and she was afraid her fingers were going to ache from clutching the hand grips so hard.

  But then they came out of the woods and he turned onto a trail so wide and smooth it was practically a road. He picked up speed and that made her nervous at first, but eventually she relaxed against the seat and watched the scenery.

  Every once in a while, a sled would pass them going the opposite direction. And sometimes there were bumps and dips in the trail, but mostly it was like cruising along a back road made of snow. One of the most surprising things was how warm she was. Clearly the Cutter family didn’t skimp on snowmobile gear.

  After making turns at several intersections, Grant turned on a small trail that wasn’t as twisty as the one that connected their yard to the big trail, but was close. She could tell by the engine sound and the way she leaned back against the seat that they were climbing a hill, though it was hard to tell visually since there were dense woods on both sides of them.

  She had no idea how long they were on that trail before it broke into a clearing. There were tracks, so she knew others had been there, but it didn’t have the hard-packed look the bigger trails had. When he pulled the snowmobile around sideways, she was able to see the view.

  Looking out over the snowy trees and a picturesque small town—the kind that were always on postcards for sale at gas stations in New England—took her breath away.

  He killed the engine and got off the sled. Then he unplugged her shield and helped her take her helmet and the hood off before she climbed down from the seat.

  “You doing okay?” He took her hand as they walked toward the edge of the clearing.

  “You were right. I’m enjoying it.”

  “Good. I was really hoping you would.”

  “It so pretty.” She looked up at him. “You love it here.”

  “I do. It’s good for me to reconnect with home every once in a while. And not just my family.”

  “What brought you to Boston? For somebody who loves this so much, it seems like a weird choice.”

  “The lure of the big city, I guess. Sometimes you don’t fully appreciate where you’re from until you’ve been somewhere else. And the challenge.”

  “I feel like you want to come back someday. Maybe when the challenges have been met?”

  He shrugged. “It’s all pretty and idyllic until you remember there’s only one place in town that delivers and their pizza sucks. But you’re right, I guess. I don’t think that far ahead as a rule, but I think I had a fuzzy idea of retiring here someday. Way in the future.”

  “When the kids are grown?” she said lightly.

  When he looked at her, his gaze was so intense, she shivered. “Kids, huh?”

  They’d talked about kids the first time around. Not in a specific I want to have children with you way, but enough to know they both wanted to be parents someday. “Yeah, kids. You’d be a great dad. And you’d teach them all sorts of things and bring them to visit their grandparents on the weekends. And they’d snowmobile and...do all the other stuff you guys do up here.”

  “Or maybe they’ll curl up in a chair with a book like their mother.”

  He said it with so much affection, her eyes welled up a little. And not only the acceptance that reading books was as okay as romping around in the woods, but that she would be the mother of his children. Saying it out loud was a big thing to her. “I’m guessing a little of both.”

  “Go out and raise a little hell, and then go home and read by the fire?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Don’t cry out here. Your eyes will freeze shut when you blink.”

  Her gasp made him laugh and she punched him playfully in the stomach. “That is not funny.”

  “It kind of was.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “You really need to get outside more.”

  “I don’t hate this.”

  “Maybe we’ll do it again.”

  “When it’s warmer?”

  He laughed so hard she got offended and stepped away. “I hate to break it to you, but this is warm for sledding. If it got any warmer, we’d be mudding. It’s better if it’s just a little colder, actually.”

  “That’s easy to say when you’re a guy who can pee on a tree.”

  Grant wasn’t surprised his mom managed to pull him aside while Wren was packing up her bag for the journey home. She was his mother, so she was always going to have an opinion on Grant’s life—even his love life—but she was too good a person to make comments in front of Wren or within her earshot.

  “Grant, can you give me a hand with something in the garage before you go?”

  It was a code he’d heard more than a few times in his life, no matter if she was talking to him, his brother or his dad. There was always something in the garage that needed tending to when she had something on her mind.

  He just hoped he hadn’t been totally wrong about the vibe in the house. He’d known his mom would act right because that’s who she was, but he’d actually thought it had gone even better than that. His mom had been slightly cool at first, but he thought she’d warmed up to Wren by the time they went snowmobiling.

  Just the idea of having to pick a side shook him up. He knew there were families with a lot of conflict when it came to in-laws, but he never wanted to be in a position to have to choose Wren or his mother. The idea hurt too much to even think about.

  Just as he suspected, as soon as the door between the kitchen and the garage had closed behind them, she walked over and leaned against her car, folding her arms.

  “I’m glad y
ou brought Wren home this weekend,” she said. “I was so worried about you after she left. You weren’t yourself at all. And then, when you told me she was back, I had all different worries. And a lot of questions, of course.”

  “We’re taking it slow, Mom. She didn’t cast a spell on me that made me forget everything that happened.” He shrugged. “You know how much she hurt me. But I think shutting her out when I found her again would have hurt me more than the risk of maybe being hurt again. I have to try.”

  “I can see why. Seeing you together this weekend makes me feel a lot better.” She smiled. “Your dad and I were talking about it while you were out sledding, and we both think you suit each other. Even with what happened between you, she makes you happy.”

  “That means a lot to me.”

  “Hopefully what happened before was nothing but a bump in the road. Dad and I have been married a long time and you’ve seen it. While we’ve never separated like you two did, relationships are like driving the roads around here. Most of the times it’s smooth, with some twists and turns. But sometimes it’s bumpy and then, every once in a while, you hit a pothole that knocks the wheels out of alignment.”

  He chuckled, even though he knew it was a pretty accurate description of his parents’ marriage. Luckily there hadn’t been too many potholes, but they happened. “Right now I’m trying to remember we’re cruising the back roads and not speeding on the highway, bypassing all the rest stops and scenery.”

  “I think rushing things would be a mistake,” she agreed. “You don’t want to get back to the place you were because that didn’t work. Take your time, find your way to a new place, and when the past is in the rearview mirror, you’ll know it’s right.”

  Since that echoed what he’d told Gavin, he nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

  “But this ex-boyfriend. He’s still a problem?”

  “I don’t really know if he’s a problem so much as the possibility of him being a problem is a problem.” He laughed at himself. “Did that make sense?”