Under Control

by Shannon Stacey

  One kiss and it was too late, he thought as he stared into the pantry with no idea what he was in the mood to eat. It was too late to go back and let her leave the charity meeting without a word from him. Or, hell, to go back to the day they got stuck in the elevator and take the stairs instead.

  It was too late to wonder if he should get too serious because he wasn’t sure if he and his kids could ever fit in her life. And it was definitely too late to take back that kiss because he knew, no matter what happened, he didn’t really want to.

  Even though he knew he didn’t have much of a shot at going the full nine innings, when it came to Olivia, he wanted to play ball.

  Chapter Six

  Olivia couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a bar. Probably in college, which was when she’d discovered that in Boston, any establishment with a television and a liquor license was a de facto sports bar if a game was on the screen.

  She might have missed Kincaid’s Pub entirely if Derek hadn’t given her such good directions on top of the street address printed on the promotional materials. Her Lyft driver had found the address with no problem, but it had taken her a few seconds to spot the small sign over a glass door flanked by two high and long glass windows in a very unassuming building. Clearly Kincaid’s didn’t feel a need to announce their presence to the public at large.

  But when she stepped inside, she was met by the kind of establishment she’d been expecting. Brick and wood, with sports photos and fire memorabilia hung on the walls. There was a massive U-shaped bar, and the place was probably only a few more customers shy of their occupancy limit.

  Even though it was probably an exercise in futility, she looked around for Derek. She also kept an eye out for Jess or anybody else she’d recognize from the board, but mostly she was looking for him.

  Her thoughts had been spinning out of control since she left him at the restaurant. She’d even had trouble concentrating on work all week, which was problematic, to say the least. And every night, she waited for his call. She started thinking about it as she put her work away—or even before then, if she was honest with herself—and changed into her comfy clothes. Would he call? She’d found herself practically vibrating with anticipation as she waited. And on Wednesday night, when he hadn’t called, she’d thought maybe he was with his kids and tried to put him out of her mind. That hadn’t worked and when she thought it was late enough so small kids would be in bed, but not too late, she’d taken a deep breath and called him before she could change her mind.

  It was the same feeling she’d had when she pulled open the door to the bar tonight. Compelled to go in and see him, but knowing she had to do it quickly before she could change her mind.

  He kissed me.

  He has children and an ex-wife.

  I don’t have time for a relationship right now.

  I want him to kiss me again.

  His having an ex-wife had thrown her for a loop. Hearing he had children had thrown her for a loop. And his kiss had definitely thrown her for a loop. Basically her emotional state was a bad carnival ride, and if she didn’t find a way to get off, she was going to make herself sick.

  But when their eyes met across the room and she watched his face light up as he saw her, she was ready to hand over her ticket and get right back on the ride.

  There was something about looking at him that made her breath catch in her chest. There were probably guys in the crowd around her who were hotter in a general sense, or younger or more what she’d always considered her type, but she didn’t care. Ever since getting stuck in the elevator with him, her type had been narrowed down to Derek Gilman.

  Rather than just waving her over, he said something to the guy he’d been speaking to and started making his way through the crowd toward her. Since people kept trying to talk to him, she knew it would take a minute, so she opened the wallet case she’d put on her phone for the night while she waited. There was a donation bucket at the end of the bar and she reached between two customers to drop some cash in.

  By the time she was done, Derek had reached her. “You made it.”

  “I told you I would. This is quite a place.”

  He looked around, and she could see the affection he had for it on his face. “Yeah. It’s a little worn around the edges, but it’s comfortable and homey.”

  “Like a favorite old pair of jeans.”

  “Exactly like that.” He gave her a skeptical look. “Are you telling me you not only have jeans, but have a favorite old pair?”

  She laughed. “Of course I have jeans. And yes, a favorite old pair that are worn so thin in the butt and the knees that I’m afraid to wear them out in public without tights under them. Who doesn’t own jeans?”

  His eyes dropped, sweeping over her pale blue, summer-weight sweater and black capris. She’d opted for black ballet flats over sandals tonight because she wasn’t sure what to expect as far as the bar atmosphere, but she wasn’t risking open toes.

  “You just don’t strike me as a jeans kind of woman, I guess.”

  It was a weird thing for him to say. “What does that even mean? Do you picture me running around doing errands and cleaning my apartment on the weekends in a skirt and high heels?”

  She expected him to laugh, but he leaned closer so he could lower his voice. “When I picture you, you’re not doing errands or cleaning your apartment. Or wearing a skirt.”

  Olivia’s cheeks flushed with heat—along with other parts of her body—but she didn’t look away. She just smiled and raised one eyebrow. “And the high heels?”

  He blushed and gave her a sheepish grin, as if he hadn’t expected her to respond in such a direct way. “I do like the shoes. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you in those jeans, either.”

  She usually only wore them in the colder months, but she’d make an exception if a little denim could keep that look in his eye. “Maybe.”

  “I know they stocked up on the usual beer,” he said, holding up his half-full glass, “but I don’t know if there’s a wine list. To be honest, I don’t even know if they even have wine.”

  “A beer is fine. Whatever you’ve got.” When his eyes widened, she laughed. “Yes, I drink beer. Not often, but on occasion. And one time, back in college, I even drank beer while wearing jeans.”

  It was his turn to laugh, and more than a few heads turned at the sound. “I deserved that.”

  Once he’d managed to push through the crowd at the bar to get her a beer, he nodded toward the back. “Jess and Rick are back there. And...well, pretty much everybody else.”

  As much as she’d like to find a relatively quiet corner and have Derek’s company all to herself, this was a fundraiser, not a date. “Let’s go say hi.”

  He led the way, and she said hi to Jessica and was reintroduced to her husband, Rick. There were so many names she knew she’d never remember them all, except maybe Aidan and Scotty, from the great elevator escape. Derek seemed to know everybody, of course, and when somebody yelled his name, he raised his hand in greeting.

  And when he dropped his hand, it came to rest at the small of her back and Olivia felt as if she was standing at a crossroads. While Olivia only really knew Jess, these were Derek’s friends and coworkers and it was something of a claiming gesture. Anybody looking at them would assume they were a couple, or on their way to being one.

  Yes, they’d kissed. They talked on the phone every night this week. And she wanted him to kiss her again. But being an actual couple was a commitment and the part of her brain still embracing logic over libido shied away from that possibility.

  She could stick to her carefully structured plan for herself and step away from his touch. Temptation didn’t have to be acted upon, and often shouldn’t be. Or she could throw caution—and a lifetime of lessons learned—to the wind and lean in. Logically, she knew which was the right choice. She should move away.
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  She leaned in.

  Not a lot. But she shifted slightly toward him, leaning against his hand, and his fingertips pressed a little more firmly in response.

  She’d worry about her carefully structured plan tomorrow. Which was probably what she’d told herself yesterday. But with Derek’s arm around her and a beer in her hand, she didn’t care.

  * * *

  As far as Derek was concerned, the fundraiser was a success. He didn’t need to wait for the official accounting to know they’d raised a lot of money for Village Hearts. And everybody was having a fun time, with not a single fight breaking out. While Tommy ran a pretty tight ship, anything could happen with a full house.

  And, maybe most important to him, Olivia was having a good time. While she probably only saw the fundraiser aspect, for Derek it was more than that. These people were like family and Kincaid’s Pub was like an extension of home for most of the firefighters in the neighborhood, but especially for Engine 59 and Ladder 37. While he shied away from thinking too much about why, her liking the people she was meeting tonight mattered to him.

  He didn’t stray far from her side over the course of the night, but sometimes she’d wander away in conversation with somebody and then he’d hear her laugh. Or he’d glance over to find her watching him and they’d share a smile. It felt good to have that connection again, and he could imagine them coming here often. Playing pool. Laughing. Enjoying the company of friends and each other.

  If only she didn’t live on the other side of the city.

  Scott walked over to him, an almost empty mug of beer in his hand. “You waiting to shoot some pool or is this just a good vantage point for watching Olivia?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Some guy actually asked me if I knew you, because he was concerned about the way you were staring at her.”

  Derek snorted, but then he forced himself to turn his body so she wasn’t directly in his line of sight anymore. “Is Jamie here? I haven’t seen her.”

  “No, she had to work. Did you and Olivia come together?”

  “No.”

  “You leaving together?” He scowled at Scott, who only held up one hand defensively. “Just making conversation. You guys are obviously a thing.”

  “We’re not really anything.” Yet.

  “Bullshit. Anybody who’s seen you together knows you’re a thing.”

  Derek took a long swallow of his beer, unable to resist turning his head enough to catch a glimpse of Olivia over the rim of his mug. “You’re the one who said she’s out of my league. And she is.”

  Scott laughed, drawing attention Derek didn’t want. “Dude, I was just busting your balls when I said that.”

  “Doesn’t make it wrong.”

  “You can’t be fucking serious right now. She seems like a cool chick and you guys obviously hit it off, so don’t be stupid.”

  Scott shook his head and walked away before Derek could say anything else. Not that he would have, anyway, because Olivia was making her way back to him. As usual, seeing her made every thought except how much he wanted her fly out of his head.

  “He looked annoyed, and you look serious all of a sudden,” Olivia said, nodding her head in the direction Scott had gone.

  “He’s always annoyed, and I was missing you.”

  She laughed and leaned against him. “I was ten feet away.”

  “Having a good time?”

  “Yes. Everybody’s been really nice, once they got the elevator jokes out of their systems.” Her chuckle let him know she’d taken it all in fun. “And Cait has the best stories. Being an EMT sounds...interesting.”

  “Firefighters have better stories,” he felt obliged to say.

  “You’ll have to tell me some, then, because I find it hard to believe you can top Cait’s.”

  The more opportunities he had to tell her stories, the better, as far as he was concerned. “Challenge accepted. And remind me to start with the story about Cait pushing a firefighter down the stairs.”

  The sound of a glass shattering brought conversation around them to a halt, and then they watched as Lydia—the bartender and Aidan’s wife—said something to a red-faced patron and pointed to the framed photo of Bobby Orr on the wall.

  “What’s going on?” Olivia whispered.

  “If you break a glass, you have to kiss Bobby Orr.”

  “That doesn’t sound...hygienic.”

  “Well, you kiss your fingertips and then press them to the glass. Which, now that I think about it, isn’t much better. But bad things happen if you don’t do it. Trust me.”

  She snorted as the customer pressed his fingers to the glass and the crowd—jinx safely averted—went back to their conversations. “I don’t really believe a lot in luck or superstition.”

  “Nope, you’re definitely not from Boston.”

  She laughed. “My entire life is built around the premise that anything can be accomplished with a well-executed plan. Luck has nothing to do with planning.”

  “Not everything can be planned.”

  “Everything that matters can be.”

  “I don’t know about that.” He put his arm around her shoulders, dropping his head close to hers. “You didn’t plan to get stuck in an elevator with me.”

  “So you think that was luck?” She turned toward him slightly, so he could see the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

  “It was definitely something,” he said, and then he kissed her temple. “I’d like to take you out on a proper date.”

  She smiled. “A proper date? What constitutes a proper date for you? You picking me up at my door with flowers? A restaurant with cloth napkins?”

  “There are restaurants with cloth napkins?” He tucked her hair behind her ear, his gaze lingering on the sparkly blue stone in her earlobe. It wasn’t as dark as a sapphire and it almost matched her eyes. “I mean, like an actual date. Not using brainstorming as an excuse to have dinner with you or this fundraiser as an excuse to hang out with you here. And definitely not being stuck in an elevator.”

  “Cute first date story, though. And yes, I’d like to go on a proper date with you.”

  “Now comes the fun part.”

  “Scheduling it.” She held up her hands. “And I don’t even have my planner with me.”

  “Should I have my people call your people?” he teased.

  “No. Definitely don’t call my people or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “When I brought the kids back to their mom’s for the night so I could come here without hiring a sitter, I told them I’d take them for pizza and bowling tomorrow night to make up for it.” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she’d want to come along, but he stopped himself. He hadn’t even told the kids he might be dating somebody, and he wanted to see if the relationship had any chance of sticking before he introduced her into their lives. Wanting it to and making it happen were two different things. “Tuesdays and Fridays are out for me, obviously.”

  “How about Monday night? I know it’s short notice, but my last meeting of the day will be with a custom home builder in Brookline, so I could meet you somewhere on the way back through the city.”

  He wasn’t sure that totally lived up to his idea of a proper date. Picking her up and surprising her with reservations somewhere nice was more of what he’d had in mind, but there were the logistics to consider. If he turned down a Monday meet-up, it would probably be the following weekend before he saw her again and he didn’t want to wait that long. Short notice worked for him.

  “That sounds great. Do you want me to pick the place again?” When she grinned sheepishly, he laughed. “You want to go back to the same place again?”

  “I’m not done with that menu,” she confessed. “But no planner this time. Just us.”

  “I like the sound of that. How did
you get here tonight? Do you want me to—” He stopped talking, trying to remember how many beers he’d had. And if he couldn’t remember, it was more than two. “Shit.”

  “I guess the better question is how you got here tonight. And how you’re getting home.”

  “Gavin and Cait picked me up, and she’s not drinking. I was going to borrow his truck, but...I can ask her to drive us, if you want.”

  “I’m fine with a Lyft, I promise.”

  “Isn’t that a pain in the ass? And expensive?”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes. I have a car, you know.”

  That’s right. She’d driven to the Village Hearts meeting. “What kind of car?”

  “A silver one,” she said, and he laughed. “A silver Audi, actually, but I spent so much time trying to find addresses and then trying to find a place to park and then walking back to the address I was going to—and too often being late because of it—that I realized it was more efficient and even cost-effective in the long run to let somebody else drive.”

  “Unless you’re coming all the way across the city,” he pointed out. She held up her now empty glass and he nodded. As much as he wished one of them had a vehicle so they could go somewhere else—like maybe his place—making sure nobody drove drunk was important to everybody at Kincaid’s, so he liked that about her.

  “I think I’ll go ahead and order a ride now,” she said. “It’s getting late and I have a rule about not falling asleep in the back seat of strange cars.”

  Derek didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t even want to think about her being awake in a strange car, but it wasn’t his place to dictate her transportation. And he wasn’t in a position to offer an alternative at the moment. “That’s a good rule.”

  Once she ordered a car, the clock was ticking on their night and they spent most of the remaining time circulating through the crowd so Olivia could say goodnight to the other members of the board and the members of his crew.

  When it was time to go outside, he walked out with her. Their fingers were interlocked and it felt so good to walk hand in hand with her that he was tempted to ask her to cancel the car and just walk with him for a little while.