by Andre, Bella
He'd always known that there was a spark inside of her. He'd seen glimpses of it on a few occasions, but while he'd been intrigued by the idea of bringing her out of her shell, some self-protective instinct had usually kicked in, reminding him that Sara wasn't a girl to play around with. She was his sister's friend, the girl next door, and her parents were friends with his parents. There was no way he could get involved with her. He didn't do serious, and Sara was as serious as they came.
But as much as he'd tried to look at her as an honorary big brother, he'd never really seen her like a sister, or even like a friend. She was more like a challenge, a girl he knew he wouldn't be able to impress with his usual lines. And one night, he'd let things go a little too far.
"You're staring at me, Aiden," she said tersely.
Her face was stiff, her body tense, her obvious dislike of him palpable, which for some reason made him want to linger. He had enough people who hated his guts these days; he didn't really need any more. But this was Sara, and he'd wondered many times over the years if they'd ever meet again. He hadn't expected her to still be so pissed off at him. Obviously she hadn't forgotten their last encounter.
"You've grown up," he said after a moment. "I like the long hair." He liked a lot of other things, too, like the way her breasts moved against her t-shirt, and the way her eyes sparkled. Was she pissed off or turned on? He decided not to ask. Instead, he said, "What's up with you?"
"What do you mean?" she said quickly.
"What's happening in your life?"
"Why do you care?"
"We used to be friends."
"Were we?" she asked. "I thought I was just the irritating friend of your sister."
"That, too," he conceded. "But we had some good times."
"And some bad," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
He knew exactly what she was referring to. "That was a long time ago."
"Tonight, it doesn't seem that long."
"You still blame me for sending you home after the concert, don't you?"
She gave him an incredulous look. "Is that how you remember it? You sent me home after a concert? There was a lot more to that night than that."
"We had fun. And we ended things before they got complicated. That's what I remember."
Her look of amazement deepened. "Seriously?"
He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't stop himself. "How do you remember it?"
She hesitated. "It doesn't matter."
"Apparently, it does."
Anger flickered in her eyes. "You humiliated me, Aiden."
"No," he said quickly. "I protected you. I stopped you from making a bad decision, one you would have regretted."
"I didn't need your protection."
"Yes, you did. You were innocent and naïve. And you'd been drinking. You should be grateful I called a halt."
"And should I be grateful that you told everyone I wanted to have sex with you, but you said no – you, the guy who would sleep with anyone? How do you think that played out for me?"
He tipped his head, acknowledging her point. He'd forgotten the rumors. "That wasn't me. Jim saw us together. He's the one who told people."
"You didn't try to stop him."
"I didn't think it was that big of a deal."
"Well, I did."
He gazed at her for a long moment, wanting her to look at him, but she was picking a piece of imaginary lint off her sweater. "I'm sorry, Sara. Sorry that I let it go as far as it did. I shouldn't have kissed you in the first place. You were three years younger than me, and you were my sister's friend. I get that you were embarrassed, but things would have been a lot worse if we'd kept on going. I did the right thing." He was truly surprised she didn't see it that way now. "There have been a lot of moments in my life where I did the wrong thing, but not that night, not with you. That's the one time I got it right."
"Oh, just shut up," she said. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"I hate to think that you've been pissed off at me for the last decade."
"Don't flatter yourself. I haven't thought about you at all." She cleared her throat and shot him a pointed look. "I'm not carrying some torch for you, if that's what you think. That flame died a long time ago. There have been lots of other men in my life."
"I'm sure. We've both grown up, changed."
She gave him a doubtful look. "I'm not sure you've changed. So far today I've seen one man punch you in the face and watched your brother and father come close to doing the same. Care to explain what's going on with you?"
"No. Let's talk about you instead. What brought you back home after all these years?"
"I told you—my father's sixty-fifth birthday. I bought him that bottle of wine," she said, pointing to the unopened bottle on the table. "It cost over four hundred dollars."
He raised an eyebrow. "That's quite a present. Are you rich now?"
She uttered a short, little laugh. "Hardly. But I wanted to do something special, something to show my dad that our relationship has value, that it's worth saving. My grandmother died a few years ago and it's just my dad and me now. We need to find a way to connect."
"That's a lot of expectations to put on a bottle of wine."
"Too many," she admitted. "I thought at the very least it would open up some communication. When I gave it to him, my dad said it was nice, and set it on the table without even looking at the label. Then he told me I shouldn't have come home without being invited."
Aiden shook his head in disgust. He'd never liked Stephen Davidson. The man was as cold as the inside of a freezer. "Your father was always an ass."
"But he's my father. I have to try to love him."
"Why?"
"You wouldn't understand, Aiden. Your family is different from mine. There is an endless amount of unconditional love."
"I wouldn't say it's unconditional," he replied, thinking about the anger in both Burke and his father's eyes when they'd confronted him about Kyle.
"You're wrong. They will love you no matter what you do," she said with conviction. "Trust me, I spent years watching your family, and wishing I could have even a tenth of that Callaway love."
"You were close to your mom," he pointed out.
"Yes, but there was always a line," she said. "My mom could never go against my dad, not even in the smallest matter. Her allegiance was always to him. It was strange the hold he had over her. I guess it was love, but it didn't always look like it. Not that I know what love looks like," she said with a sigh. "I keep trying to find a way to prove myself to my father, but it doesn't seem to matter what I do. I went to his alma mater and graduated with honors. I passed the bar, and I'm on track to be partner at one of the biggest law firms in New York. But I can't get my father to look at me with anything but annoyance and resignation."
"Did you do all that for him?" he challenged.
She frowned. "No, of course not. That came out wrong."
He didn't think it had come out wrong at all. "Do you like being an attorney, Sara?"
"Of course I do. Well, most of the time."
"What kind of law do you do?"
"Corporate."
"Sounds …" He couldn't quite find the right word. "Intelligent."
She smiled and for a moment she was the girl he remembered, the girl whose smile had always made him want to impress her. "Nice try," she said. "I know it sounds dull. Look, I don't want you to think that I'm just stupidly and blindly following in my father's footsteps. I made my career choices based on a lot of reasons."
"Hey, I'm not one to judge someone else's choices. As long as you're happy, that's all that matters."
She stared at him. "Are you happy, Aiden?"
"I've been happier," he admitted.
"Emma told me you're a smokejumper now. Fighting a fire isn't daring enough? You have to jump out of a plane first?"
He grinned. "It is an adrenaline rush like no other."
"You and your family…" She shook her hea
d in bewilderment. "I never understood the Callaway attraction to danger."
"And I never understood the Davidson desire to live in the shadows and always play it safe."
"I didn't always play it safe," she reminded him.
And just like that they were back to that night.
She cleared her throat. "Anyway…"
"Anyway," he echoed. "What's the last daring thing you did, Sara?"
"I have no idea," she said finally. "I've been working sixty hour weeks the last five years."
"It doesn't sound like you've had much time for fun."
"I squeeze it in here and there," she said.
"We could have a little fun tonight," he suggested.
A light flashed in her eyes.
"That's not what I meant," he said quickly. "I'm talking about the wine. We should open it."
"I couldn't possibly do that," she said, but there was a thoughtful expression in her eyes.
"Oh, I think you could. In fact, I suspect you've already considered it. Otherwise, that bottle wouldn't be out here."
Her gaze met his. "My father was so mean to me at the hospital, Aiden. When I came home and saw the bottle sitting on the hall table where he'd so easily put it aside, I had a moment of weakness. But I'm over it."
"Why was he in the basement anyway?"
"I have no idea. He said he had to get something."
"Must have been something important."
"I can't imagine what. I don't remember there being much in the basement besides gardening tools. I would think all the important papers would be in his study." She paused. "I'm very grateful that you came in when you did. I couldn't lift my dad, and the fire was moving so fast."
"Grateful enough to share that bottle of wine with me?"
"Why are you so determined to see me open it?"
"Maybe because I think you need to make a statement. Maybe because I'm thirsty. Maybe because I've had a lousy day, and you have, too."
Her gaze softened. She was yearning to be defiant, to break the rules, and in that moment she reminded him of the very innocent and daring-to-be-reckless girl who he'd let get way too close to him. There was no danger of that now. She hated him. And that was probably for the best.
"It's my father's present," she said.
"One he didn't seem to appreciate," he reminded her.
"The glasses are covered with ash and smoke," she said half-heartedly.
"So we'll share the bottle." He grabbed it along with the wine opener. "Shall I do the honors?"
"You're a very bad influence, Aiden."
"Agreed."
"Fine, but I hope you don't regret this."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why would I? It's your bottle of wine."
"Yes, but the last time we drank together—it didn't end well."
Chapter Six
The wine tasted amazing, and she felt warm all over, although the heat might have had more to do with Aiden than with the wine. Sara took another sip, not wanting to acknowledge that she still felt anything for the man with whom she'd shared the most embarrassing moment of her life. But it was still easy to see why her teenage self had fallen for him.
Aiden was a beautifully-made man, rugged, strong, masculine, with blue eyes that commanded attention and a sexy smile that made her tingle every time he turned it in her direction.
Damn! She felt suddenly seventeen again. It wasn't like she hadn't been around attractive men, but lawyers in expensive suits were a completely different breed than the rough and tough men who ran into fire. Maybe that's why she'd had trouble falling for anyone else. No one ever seemed to measure up to Aiden.
Not that he was perfect. Aiden was way too cocky, far too reckless and played fast and loose with the rules. In fact, he was pretty much her exact opposite.
She blew out a breath, feeling a little too warm, and handed Aiden the bottle of wine. Alcohol and Aiden had never been a good combination. Not that she'd ever go down that road again. She'd learned her lesson.
As Aiden lifted the wine bottle to his lips, she couldn't help wondering what his relationship status was. She'd thought about him often over the years, usually whenever she saw a fire truck racing down the street.
Aiden handed her back the bottle. She took a drink, and then impulsively asked. "So, is there a woman in your life, Aiden?"
"No," he said, motioning for her to hand back the bottle.
As she did so, she said, "Does no mean not now or never?"
"I wouldn't say never," he said, taking a drink.
"Why are you being so cryptic?"
"Why are you being so curious?" he countered, meeting her gaze.
"Because I'm always curious. It's who I am. It's what I do. I ask questions and investigate. I solve problems."
"That's very impressive. I don't have any problems."
"Really? A fellow firefighter punched you in the face and a few hours later you're in a heated argument with your father and brother. Sounds like a few problems to me."
His lips tightened. "Well, those problems have nothing to do with a woman. I'm single and that's the way I like it. What about you?"
She reached for the bottle, stalling for a second. She wished she had a better answer, because it would have been so much more gratifying to tell Aiden she was madly in love with someone, and he'd missed his chance with her. Not that he had a chance now even though she was single.
"Sara?" he prodded.
"I'm single at the moment. I've been busy working, building my career. There hasn't been much time for romance. Practically speaking I'm probably just too analytical for love."
He gave her a thoughtful look. "Love isn't practical, and most relationships don't hold up well to analysis."
"Yeah, I've noticed that."
"You don't still make up those pro/con lists, do you?"
She frowned. "I can't believe you remember that."
"How could I forget? You were always weighing your options. You were afraid to take a step without a ten-point plan."
"You make me sound dull and cowardly."
"More like smart and quirky," he said with a grin.
"Great. Just the way every woman wants to be described," she said dryly.
"Interesting is a better word. How's that?"
"Not much better. Everyone knows interesting is just a nice way of saying someone is a little odd."
He smiled. "I can't win, can I?"
"Probably not." She paused. "I had to be careful when I was growing up, Aiden. I couldn't afford mistakes. My father demanded perfection. Anything less was unacceptable. I'd get grounded for bringing home a B. My father took away my license for six months after I missed curfew."
He raised an eyebrow. "When did you miss curfew?"
"You know when," she said pointedly.
"Ah, another mark against me."
"Not against you. It was my mistake."
"Look, Sara, no one is perfect. You have to accept that."
"It's easier when I'm not faced with my father's disappointment. I shouldn't have come home."
"You had to because you're an optimist."
"I don't think I am," she said slowly.
"Of course you are. You still have hope that you and your dad will become a loving family after reviewing all evidence to the contrary. What's that if not optimism?"
"Stupidity," she suggested, then took another swig of the wine.
"Hey, don't drink it all," Aiden protested.
She handed over the bottle, wiping her mouth with the edge of her sleeve. "What do you think of the wine?"
"It's very good."
"I think so, too. I wonder if my dad will notice that it's gone."
"It might be good if he did. Maybe it would wake him up to the fact that things and people you ignore eventually disappear."
"He'd love for me to disappear. Until this weekend, I'd pretty much done just that. I hadn't seen my dad in five years, not since my grandmother's funeral. I should have left things the way they were."
"Your father will recover. The house will be redone. It will work out, Sara."
She smiled. "Maybe you're the optimist, not me."
He grinned. "I just know you. When you set your mind to something, you succeed."
"Do you really think you know me after all the years we've been apart?"
"People don't change that much."
She pointed to the bottle. "Now who's the hog?"
He passed it to her. "Sorry."
"This is weird, isn't it?" she asked. "The two of us in my backyard after so many years. I feel young and old at the same time."
"I know what you mean. Being in my old room feels strange and yet oddly reassuring."
"My old room just feels strange. There's no trace of me left in the house, and very little left of my mom. It's as if we were never here." She took a moment and then added. "I never understood what my mom saw in my dad, how they ever came to fall in love, and why they stayed together. I rarely saw any love between them."
"Did you ever ask?"
"Yes, but my mom always told me that there were things about my father I didn't understand. She used to tell me that his love ran deep. Too deep for me to find apparently," she added with a sigh.
"When I looked out my window earlier tonight, I remembered you and your mom working in this garden."
"Digging in the dirt," she said with a nod. "We couldn't touch the house. My dad hated any kind of clutter or sentimental nonsense as he referred to knick knacks, but he left the garden to us, mainly because he never came out here." She paused, thinking about what Aiden had said. "You used to watch us from your window?"
"Well, not like a stalker," he said with a wry smile. "Occasionally, I'd glance out."
"I used to watch you and your brothers and sisters, too. Your backyard had so much action, especially after you and your dad built that fort. I thought that was the coolest thing ever."
"It was," he agreed. "One of my best accomplishments."
"I saw that it's still there."
