Fierce at Heart (The Kincaids of Pine Harbour)

by Zoe York

  She crawled over the console and kissed him. “Not from you. I hear you. And you mean everything to me, too.”

  He shoved his hands in her hair and held her close so he could kiss her back. From the slot where he kept his phone in the dashboard, a ringtone interrupted them.

  Isla laughed and passed him his phone.

  “It’s Will.” Adam felt his cheeks heat up as he glanced ahead to the school, where his brother’s office was visible—which meant they were visible to the principal, too. He hit the answer button. “Yep.”

  “Please stop making out in my parking lot. Kids will be arriving soon.”

  “They aren’t here yet,” Adam protested. Then he covered the speaker. “Will says we need to take this home.”

  Isla took the phone from him, said a breathless goodbye to Will, then pointed at the road. “Let’s go, then.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next day, Isla brought up the New Year’s Eve Gala. “Would you like to go?”

  “Take you dancing? Absolutely.”

  “It’s formal. And will be full of army people.”

  “Are you expecting me to be reluctant?”

  “Maybe?”

  “I’m not. I think it’s a great plan. We can treat New Year’s Eve like our very own Christmas. What do you think about that? I’m not going to assume you got me any presents...”

  “I got you presents.”

  “Do you want to wait until the Gala to exchange them?”

  She thought about the extra warm socks she bought him and the new power tools for the kitchen renovation. “If you can wait, I can wait.”

  “Oh, I can wait.” He tugged her into his lap. “Have you talked to Kerry yet about Christmas Eve?”

  “We texted.”

  “Will has volunteered to drive.” Adam’s brothers were taking her and Kerry to the pub for their grown-up family tradition of darts and egg nog.

  “That’s nice of him.”

  “He pulled a search and rescue pager shift on Christmas Day—”

  “What is it with your family and volunteering your holidays away?” She meant it as a light tease, but Adam’s face pulled tight, like he was really considering the question.

  “I dunno. We grew up with our dad doing the same thing, I guess. And then the holidays just sucked after Mom died. For us, I mean. We made it good for Becca.”

  Isla’s heart cracked for the twelve-year-old boy who had always had to share his father with the community on Christmas, and then lost even that fragmented holiday tradition, too. “What are some good Christmas memories?”

  “The party my parents would throw, for sure. I think that’s why they hosted a party early in the month, because my dad often worked on the actual holiday. Life of a first responder,” Adam warned. “That’s not likely to change for me.”

  “I know. I like the alternate day, don’t worry.” She nuzzled into him, hoping her attempts to gain intel weren’t too obvious. “What was your favourite present growing up?”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “Lego.”

  She made a mental note to order him some. “Nice.”

  “How about you?”

  “Science kits were always fun. And one year I got a camera, which was amazing. I went through a real photography phase in my early teens.”

  “What kind of pictures did little Isla Petersen take?”

  She blushed. “I took it to school and documented the sports teams. It was a good tool for spying on my crushes.”

  “Have you always been shy?”

  “I’m not—” She cut herself off, letting Adam look at her. The way he studied her felt soft, like a caress. “Am I shy?”

  His smile started as a crooked, surprised notch at the corner of his mouth, then softened and widened. “Yeah. Secretly, maybe, but yes.”

  Damn. “I’ve never thought about it like that, but…” She tried to grab the swirling thoughts twisting around in her mind. “What you said about your first kiss not going well. You know, I didn’t have my first kiss until I was seventeen. And it was lacking in a certain sizzle. I didn’t really date at all until I went to university.”

  “Are we a couple of misfits?”

  “It turns out that we are.” She touched his face. “I didn’t see that coming for you, I gotta say. You were so sexy and cocky when I met you.”

  If she wasn’t looking at him closely, she might have missed the twitch at the corner of his eye. “What is it?”

  “You thought I was sexy?”

  “Well, yeah. Objectively speaking.”

  “And subjectively? Are you saying that five years ago, twenty-five-year-old me could have scored your number?”

  She frowned. “You had my number.” She gave him her sternest officer look. “For work reasons.”

  His face relaxed. “I knew it.”

  “Knew what?”

  “I’ve said too much.”

  “Or not enough.”

  “Not to put a damper on the moment, but it’s something…”

  “Brett said?” White hot rage sparked inside her. “What? Did he accuse us of having an affair?”

  “It made no sense.”

  “But you thought you’d just double-check that I wasn’t exactly who he described?”

  “I know you aren’t!” He pushed himself up to sit forward as she scrambled off his lap and started pacing. “I never, for a second, not even a nanosecond, believed anything he said about you. I read that letter as the deranged, biased perspective of someone who didn’t value you when he had you, and maybe didn’t realize he’d lost you until it was far too late. It was desperate and nonsensical.”

  “But it’s all living in your head now. And if I say something benign, it triggers doubt.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.” She clenched her fists, then shook her hands out to release that tension. “Tell me everything he said.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want you to hear it.”

  “I’ve already heard some variation of it, Adam. I lived with him. I think it’s probably more likely that you don’t want to have to say it out loud, to me.”

  “Okay. Yeah. That.”

  “So.”

  “So?”

  “Out with it.” She waved her hands, urging him to unload it all. “It doesn’t have as much power if you just say it.” That was her hope, anyway.

  “He said you manipulated men. You had affairs with subordinates. He suggested we had an affair six years ago, and alluded to knowing that we got married for…” He trailed off. “Which when you think about it, it makes no sense. Which is it? Either something improper happened when you were my commanding officer, or we have a sham marriage.”

  Brett couldn’t even be consistent with his poison pen. And neither was true, at least not anymore. No, it had never been true. Adam had gone out of his way to make sure they both entered this relationship eyes open. They’d even been pretty honest with his brothers about why they got married.

  Was pretty honest enough to stop feeling guilty?

  As if Adam read her mind, he shook his head. Then muttered something that sounded like nothing to feel bad about, before leaning back on the couch and giving her a long, hooded glare that somehow felt…good. A bit rough and a lot raw, but he wasn’t looking away, and he wasn’t running away.

  Finally, he sighed. “Owen says I should tell you about my darkness.”

  A laugh slipped out before Isla could stop herself, and she dropped to her knees in front of him as he gave her a startled look. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, leaning in. “But you don’t have any darkness. It’s just not who you are.”

  “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I feel a heavy weight of not being enough.”

  She sighed and leaned in further, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He urged her up and into his lap again, and she wrapped her arms around him. “You know
what I think? The people who really need to deal with the darkness inside them don’t feel that weight at all. Guilt and conscience are wrapped together pretty tightly. I worry that I’m being selfish, but I know intellectually that I’m not.”

  His brow furrowed. “You’re not selfish at all.”

  “That’s a matter of debate.”

  “It’s not.” He cupped her face, his fingers solid and warm. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I…” She frowned. Because she wouldn’t settle? Because she held out for what she really wanted in life? Because she wouldn’t give too much of herself?

  “You’re not,” he whispered. Then he brushed his fingertip gently at the corner of her eye. It smeared a wet tear across her temple, and he turned her face, kissing it away. “You’re not selfish,” he murmured again. “I promise you.”

  “And you aren’t dark.” Her words were husky as she clung to him. “Tell me you see that. We’re both doing the best we can.”

  “I’ll get there. I’m a—”

  She kissed him. “Work in progress. I know.” I love you. It was right on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed the words back. In time, maybe. And until it was a shared feeling, she wasn’t going to get carried away.

  “Can we go for a walk? Get out of the house for a bit.”

  “It’s freezing tonight.”

  “We’ll bundle up.” He urged her to her feet, and they silently dressed for outside. Their little lane was dark and quiet, but as they turned down the street, everyone had Christmas lights up. They didn’t talk, just strolled together.

  Isla didn’t push Adam further. And as they moved, a bittersweet peace settled into her bones. She’d thought she couldn’t handle the risk inherent in a relationship. But then she’d gone and tumbled into the most important relationship of her life anyway—one that was imperfect and limited, but wonderful, too.

  And in these moments where they bumped into their limits, but didn’t run scared, it felt right and good. Almost whole, and they would get better at filling the gaps created by wishes and unrealistic dreams.

  When they returned home, she pulled him into her shower. She cupped his face, those tense muscles flexing beneath her touch. He didn’t say it, but there was a wordless question in his gaze. How was she able to stay soft to him when he was being uncharacteristically brittle? He wouldn’t push her away, though, not that he was trying that hard. She wouldn’t deprive them both of touch that fed their souls.

  She ghosted her lips against his, and the contact sparked—for a brief moment—that old fear of being selfish and burning herself for it. She craved him, had for longer than she wanted to admit, and that could get so messy.

  But tonight, that worry faded to nothing in comparison to how good it felt to be with him, and a new desire to show him that what they had was perfect in its imperfection.

  Eyes wide open.

  One day they would be more fluent in the language that matched their connection. Until then, they could cling to each other, exhaust each other, and satisfy each other’s endless appetite for pleasure.

  She kissed her way down his chest, then sank to her knees as steam swirled around them.

  The way Adam breathed her name as she put her mouth to him, the way his hands cupped her head and guided her to take more of him down the length of her tongue.

  Endless. Appetite.

  His scent swirled around her and her thighs began to tremble as he whispered he was close.

  She broke away only long enough to smile at him, and ask him to finish in her mouth.

  “Fuck,” he whispered as he braced one hand against the tiled wall.

  She ran the thick, flared head of his erection over her lips. Yes, exactly.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Christmas in Pine Harbour was magical, even without much time with her husband.

  The week before the holiday, Isla poured herself into work. Bailey confidently worked the front of house and trained a part-timer who would be running the Bake Sale! stall at the market in the new year, which left Isla free to develop a savoury take-and-go lunch menu. The most popular limited run test recipes included a seasonal duck and mushroom hand pie, and a leek and apple tart she liked so much she made extra to take home for dinner.

  It was a similar burst of creativity as had happened after she started being intimate with Adam, and as much as her soft, squishy heart was sad to discover it wasn’t his magical kisses after all, it was a relief on another level to know that this inspiration really came from inside herself. When Isla was happy, when she was settled and content, then she could do her best work.

  It helped, too, that she received an unexpected phone call three days before Christmas from her former commanding officer. He apologized for not advocating for her transfer when she requested it, and let her know that Jackass had been recalled to Petawawa. Knowing her ex was once again eight hours away instead of just an hour made the holiday period all the more festive.

  She spent the morning of Christmas Eve in the bakery, where she sold out of every last treat before noon. Every last treat except those she had already set aside.

  When she arrived at the station, the fire truck was gone, on a call, but one of the volunteers directed her to Owen’s office.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said when she knocked on the door. “What brings you by?”

  She lifted a white cardboard box in the air. “A little something for those who are working today.”

  He pressed a button on his radio. “Pumper 2, there’s a special delivery of…”

  “Peppermint mocha Nanaimo bars and candy cane cupcakes,” she filled in.

  “Lucky Adam.” Owen cleared his throat and pressed the radio button again. “Sorry Pump 2, let’s try that again. There is a special delivery of Nanaimo bars and cupcakes for your team when you get back to the station. Unless, of course, you’d like to donate it to the EMS team. Spirit of Christmas and all that.”

  “EMS Supervisor, this is Pumper 2,” Adam said over the radio, his voice cool and professional. “We are returning to station. ETA five minutes. Touch a cupcake and lose a hand. Merry Christmas.”

  Isla chuckled as she pulled another box from the tote. “Those are actually for your team,” she said. “The firefighters never need to know.”

  She met the truck in the bay and gave Adam a quick kiss in front of everyone before leaving them to their work.

  That night, Will picked her up, then swung over to get Kerry, and chauffeured them to the annual “this is how grown-ups do Christmas Eve” party at the Green Hedgehog in Lion’s Head. There was an egg nog fuelled darts competition, and Isla held her own, coming in second behind Josh.

  The next morning she had a leisurely sleep in, followed by a brunch with all of Adam’s family who weren’t working.

  A few days after Christmas, Isla came home from the bakery and found a large box waiting on the porch with Adam’s name on the shipping label. She took a picture of it and texted it to him.

  Isla: You have a big package

  Adam: Why thank you

  Adam: Oh, it took a minute for the photo to load

  Adam: My acceptance of the compliment still stands

  Isla: It’s heavy, too

  Then she added an innocent angel emoji to know that she’d meant the double entendre that time.

  When he got home, he carried the box upstairs to the workout room, but not before lifting her onto the kitchen counter and rubbing his other big package right up against her until she got all steamed up from the inside out.

  And then the day before New Year’s Eve, Adam went out for an hour, and returned with Christmas lights of their own, which he strung up through the entire house.

  “Tomorrow night,” he said when he showed her the master switch. “When we get home from the gala, you’ll flip this switch and it’ll be our Christmas Eve.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Isla turned as Adam knocked on her bedroom door, which she’d left ajar. They had spl
it up to get ready for the gala, and now her heart climbed into her throat at the first sight of him all dressed up.

  He wore the suit they got married in, but he had a very different expression on his face than he had that morning in August. Tonight he had a gleam in his eye that made her pulse quicken, and when he crossed the room to her, she caught a whiff of a new scent.

  “That cologne,” she murmured, swaying into him. “What is that?”

  “I used to wear this to go clubbing.”

  She inhaled, and the sharp, heady aroma of clove, black pepper, and a sweet kiss of jasmine dragged her back to their first dinner together. “You haven’t worn it since coming home.” She wanted to climb inside his shirt. “Why not?”

  He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her neck. “I can’t wear scents…at work…”

  She jerked her face up, surprised to hear the distraction in his voice. When she met his gaze, she found the gleam had been replaced by naked desire. “Hi,” she whispered. “You smell really good.”

  “As do you.” He glanced down her body, lingering on her cleavage before meeting her eyes again. “And you look incredible. The dress is a surprise.”

  It was a black velvet piece that clung to her curves. She had bought it after her divorce, for an event she went to without a date. It had a cowl neckline that swooped wide across her cleavage, hiding the tops of her breasts from anyone except someone standing right up against her, so his particular vantage point at the moment had never been experienced before by anyone, and it gave her a thrill that he was the first to appreciate her in it. “I’m glad you like it.”