There was a time Aidan might have agreed with him, but the only woman he wanted wore T-shirts, jeans and sneakers. And the fact he still wanted her so badly his body ached just pissed him off even more. On top of all the very valid reasons she was off-limits to him, last night should have been the nail in the coffin when it came to his infatuation with her.
Walsh walked around the end of the truck. “Let’s get this wrapped up so we can get out of the way. They want to get the street open again.”
“Funny how we become a nuisance as soon as the flames are out,” Scotty said before chugging the rest of his water.
When they finally got back to the station, Aidan took care of his gear and then went to drop onto the couch. Leaning his head against the back cushion, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He hadn’t slept for shit last night, which of course didn’t help his mood any today. And right now he was angry with himself for checking his phone on the ride back, hoping for a text from Lydia. He’d convinced himself he just hadn’t felt the vibration, so when he checked and there was nothing, the disappointment had felt bone-deep.
No matter how badly he wanted to talk to her, though, he wouldn’t text her. The ball was in her court and she either regretted what she’d said enough to apologize, or she didn’t. And if she didn’t, there was no sense in them talking.
Aidan felt somebody sit down on the other end of the couch and opened his eyes to see Cobb. “Hey, Captain.”
“What’s up with you, Hunt?”
“Just relaxing for a minute. What’s up with you?”
“Funny. You know what I mean.”
Aidan scrubbed his hands over his face, buying himself a few seconds. “I’m in a shitty mood. They happen. It’s no big deal.”
“It feels like more than that. You’ve been a little off lately, but I can’t quite put my finger on how or why.”
And Aidan didn’t really want him trying too hard to figure it out, so it was time to lie again. “Having some issues with my old man. The usual.”
That seemed to satisfy him. “Just don’t let it affect you on the job, son. From where I sit, it looks like you’re holding the other guys at arm’s length—even Kincaid—and that’s not any good for you.”
“Just trying to work things out in my head. I’m good. Honest.”
Cobb slapped his knee and then pushed himself to his feet. “Good. You let me know if that changes.”
Left alone again, Aidan pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked it. Nothing. He even went so far as to pull up their last text conversation and tapped the reply box to say something.
Then he swore under his breath and closed the texting app. Tossing his phone onto the coffee table, he picked up the remote control and turned the television on. Daytime TV sucked, but anything was better than sitting around moping over Lydia Kincaid.
* * *
LYDIA WOKE UP on the couch with a stiff neck, a lingering sense of uneasiness from the dream that was already slipping away and sorrow because she knew there would be no funny text messages from Aidan today.
She stretched, wincing a little, and realized she could smell coffee. She’d overslept, but based on the condition she’d found them in last night, Ashley and Courtney probably hadn’t been up very long, either.
When she’d gotten home, she’d gone upstairs to find Courtney passed out, fully dressed, on her bed. She’d tiptoed into Ashley’s room intending to climb into the big king-size bed with her sister, but Ashley had been sound asleep totally sideways across the mattress. Ashley’d at least gotten most of her clothes off before she passed out, though she hadn’t managed to get as far as pajamas. Rather than wake anybody and be forced to make conversation with drunk people in her current mood, Lydia’d gone back downstairs and crashed on the couch.
In hindsight, she probably should have rolled Courtney onto the floor. Sitting up, she gave herself a few seconds to be awake enough not to fall over and then got up. She went to the bathroom first, and then went into the kitchen.
Her sister and their friend looked as bad as she felt, which went a little way toward cheering her up. She poured a coffee and sat down with them. There were no signs breakfast would be forthcoming anytime soon, but she wasn’t that hungry, anyway.
Every time she thought of Aidan’s face when she’d said those words to him, she felt a little sick.
“Sorry I took your bed,” Courtney mumbled. “I was drunk. I might still be. The only thing I know for sure is that, sadly, I’m not dead.”
“We got in the cab,” Ashley said. “But when I gave him her address, she started to cry because there were ninjas in her closet.”
“I was really drunk.”
“And I tried to tell her ninjas weren’t real, but she saw a show about them and...trust me, it was easier just to bring her here.”
Lydia nodded. “We get sprayed for ninjas every six months. I can give you the number.”
“So funny.” Courtney looked like she was going to fall out of her chair until she propped her elbows on the table. “I hardly ever have alcohol other than a glass of wine or maybe even two. There were pretty drinks. They were pink and...I love pink.”
“How was work last night?” Ashley asked.
Lydia opened her mouth, then changed her mind about letting words come out of it. She raised her mug instead and took a hot sip of coffee.
“What happened?” Apparently Ashley wasn’t so hungover she missed the hesitation.
“Nothing.”
“I bet Aidan happened.” Courtney was perking up a little, though she’d definitely be skipping her daily jog.
“Don’t you have to work?” Lydia asked. “And who has a bridal shower on a Wednesday night? Nobody does.”
“The bride’s a police officer and the maid of honor manages one of the fast-food places. And the bridesmaids work in the ER or something. Anyway, they all have to work weekends, so Wednesday’s like their Saturday. The rest of us were just so screwed. And I called in sick. I probably sounded convincing.”
“I don’t know if you convinced your boss you’re sick,” Lydia said, “but you definitely sound like you’re incapable of working.”
Courtney beamed, as if that was a compliment. “Good.”
“Nice try, Lydia,” her sister said. “You should have just hung a flashing neon changing the subject sign over that question. What happened last night?”
“Can I finish my coffee first?”
“No,” they said at the same time.
“They’d been playing hockey and Danny talked them all into wanting burgers and beer.”
“Danny was there?”
“Yeah. I guess he wanted—”
“How did he look?”
Lydia took another sip of her coffee, trying to summon up a memory of Danny’s face. “He looked...like Danny, I guess. You know he doesn’t give much away emotionally. But he’s sad. You can see it around his eyes.”
Ashley let that sink in, then waved a hand at her. “Okay, back to Aidan.”
She told them the story, not leaving anything out. Halfway through, Ashley got up and went around the table refilling their coffee cups before pulling a package of store-bought blueberry muffins out of the bread box and setting them in the middle of the table.
The hardest part of the tale was, of course, when she panicked and pushed him away by insulting him. She kept her eyes on her coffee and forced herself to get through the entire thing.
“Wow,” Ashley said when she was done.
“Wow, indeed,” Courtney echoed. “Orgasms turn you into a real bitch.”
Lydia would have thrown her muffin at her, but she was too busy crumbling it on the napkin in front of her. “It was too much all of a sudden. I needed some distance and the words just kind of came out.”
“They didn’t just kind of come out, though,” Ashley said. “I mean, I know you didn’t mean to insult him, but he also knows how you feel about being involved with a firefighter.”
“We’re not involved.”
“If a man could give me an orgasm in two minutes or less, I’d marry him,” Courtney said.
“I think you’re still drunk. And I don’t normally...I think I was just anticipating seeing him so much that I was already a little worked up, I guess.”
“What are you going to do now?” Ashley asked.
Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks I should just leave it the way it is and then we don’t have to worry about it anymore. I don’t have to worry about finding myself in a relationship with another firefighter and he doesn’t have to worry about lying to Scotty anymore.”
“But you guys have been friends a long time, too. I mean, not close friends, but friends. And if there’s serious friction between you, people are going to pick up on it and wonder why.”
“And it hurt him,” Lydia added quietly. “I insulted him. I insulted his career and his friends and pretty much everything that’s important to him.”
“And that hurts you,” Courtney prompted.
“Of course it does. Like Ash said, we’re friends, too. I should go see him.” Courtney nodded, while Ashley shook her head, which made Lydia laugh. She really needed Becca to be there with them because then it was never a tie. “To apologize, I mean.”
“You can apologize to him over the phone,” Ashley said. “That way you can both put it behind you, but you’re safely out of reach of his magical instant orgasms.”
Courtney gave another dreamy sigh and Lydia threw a really? look her way. “I’ll have to think about it. He’s at the station today, anyway. Maybe I’ll know what to say by the time his tour ends.”
She hoped so, at least, because even if it was in both their best interests to not be speaking to each other, she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving things the way they were last night. He deserved better than that.
* * *
ASHLEY FORCED HERSELF to eat a bowl of soup at five thirty. Technically, it met the definition of food, but it was light enough so maybe she wouldn’t throw it up before Danny stopped by when his tour was over.
She was a mess and definitely second-guessing her insistence on being home when he came by to grab more of his things. But Lydia was right. They needed to start communicating and text messaging wasn’t going to cut it. The limbo was playing hell on her nerves and on her sleep, and she wasn’t going to be able to take it much longer.
At twenty after six, there was a knock on the front door and the sound made Ashley’s heart ache. It wasn’t right, Danny knocking on the door of the home they’d made together.
She opened the door and the impact of the mixed emotions made her take a step backward. God, she’d missed him. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hold on so tightly he’d never be able to get away from her again.
But his back was almost military straight and his expression gave her nothing. Ashley could see the sadness in his eyes, like Lydia had said, but she shouldn’t have to try to read Danny’s face like a coded map. She wanted him to pull her into his arms and hold her as if he’d never let her go.
“Come on in,” she finally said, stepping to the side so he could go by her. It was unnatural and awkward, and she cursed herself for not being somewhere else.
“I just need to grab a few things. I have some boxes in the truck.”
Boxes, plural? “Okay. Do you want help?”
“I’m all set. But I’ll probably be in and out a few times. I’ll try to be quick.”
She wanted to tell him to take his time. The longer he was in the house, the bigger the chance one of them might say something that would open the floodgates of communication between them. But all she did was nod because he’d already started walking toward the stairs.
Ashley couldn’t bear to see him in their bedroom, taking any of his things out of their closet or from his dresser. Throwing some belongings in duffel bags was one thing. Boxes were for moving and moving out seemed so much more permanent than just going to stay with Scott to give her some space.
Danny took four boxes out to his truck while Ashley sat on the couch and stared blankly at the television screen. If there was anything good at all about this night, it was that she wasn’t crying. Whether it was because she was all cried out or because things were going so badly she was beyond tears, she couldn’t say.
When he came downstairs with his fifth box, Danny hesitated at the bottom of the stairs and Ashley realized with a sense of dread that he was done. He was about to tell her he was leaving.
She stood and walked over to face him. “Is that it?”
“I think I have everything I need for now.”
“I mean is that it, as in you’re just going to grab your shit and leave without even attempting a conversation?”
“I’m not sure what I can say, Ash. I’m the same guy you fell in love with. I’m the same guy you married. I don’t know why I’m not enough for you now.”
“No, Danny.” Her throat ached from the tight ball of emotion wedged there. “That’s not...I didn’t say you’re not enough for me. I never said that.”
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want you to share your feelings with me.”
He looked at her for so long, she wasn’t sure he was going to answer, but then he sighed. “I thought I was doing that. I’ve always told you I love you. I don’t...I don’t know what else there is.”
“I want all of your feelings. Good. Bad. Loud. Messy. All of it, because I’m your wife and I’m tired of being shut out.”
She watched his expression change, as if a shutter dropped to block out a storm, and knew she’d bumped up against something he didn’t want to talk about. “I’m not the kind of guy who likes to vent, Ash. And I don’t want to come home and spend my time with you bitching about work. There’s freaking piles of paperwork to deal with and one of the guys on second crew is bitching about his share of the house fund because his wife’s making him eat vegetarian and packing his meals. Aidan’s got a hair across his ass about something, but I don’t know what yet. Is that the kind of stuff you want to hear?”
Ashley felt a jolt of guilt, because she had an idea of why Aidan had a hair across his ass. But she couldn’t tell Danny because she wouldn’t violate her sister’s trust. And Danny worked with both Aidan and Scotty, so the entire thing would be a shit show if Danny said something. Which was why Aidan shouldn’t have been messing around with Lydia in the first place.
But that didn’t matter right now. They were adults and not her problem. “Yes, I want to know if you have a rough day at work. But it’s more than that. Maybe it was stupid and childish to try to force you to show you care by telling you I wanted out, but you didn’t even try to fight it. You just left.”
His jaw flexed several times before he spoke. “You told me you needed space and I’m giving it to you. I’m not the kind of guy who, when asked to leave, refuses to go. That’s not who I am.”
“You didn’t even look upset.”
“I was upset.” She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “That was the worst night of my life, Ashley, but I didn’t know how to stop it. And I’m ready to come home as soon as you say the word.”
It was tempting. She could say the word and he’d sleep in their bed tonight. They’d get up tomorrow morning and go on about their lives as if this marital interruption had never happened.
But Danny hadn’t touched her. His hand hadn’t even twitched as if he wanted to touch her but wasn’t sure if she’d welcome it. He was the same brick wall tonight that she’d grown so tired of beating her head against.
“We need to
go to counseling,” she said, and that got an emotional response. Just a quick grimace, but she didn’t miss it. Of course he’d resist counseling because then he’d have to share his feelings. “I’m not willing to go back to the way it was.”
He gave her a quick nod, his mouth tight. “If you find somebody, I’ll consider it, but I don’t know if it’ll help. This is just who I am, Ash, and a few therapy sessions won’t change that.”
“I hope you’re wrong.”
Danny hefted the box on his hip and sighed. “Just let me know. And do me a favor. If you decide to file for divorce, let me know. Please don’t have me served papers at the house.”
Ashley’s vision blurred with tears and she squeezed her hands into fists so tightly that her fingernails bit into her palm. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Thank you. I...so good night, I guess. I’ll probably talk to you soon.”
“Good night.”
Ashley closed the front door behind him and leaned her head against the wood. Gulping in air, she tried to hold back the sobs, but it was too much. She slid to the floor and, wrapping her arms around her knees, cried a whole new batch of tears.
Chapter Nine
PRIME-TIME TELEVISION wasn’t any better than daytime TV, Aidan thought. Or maybe, even though he’d eaten and had a hot shower, he still wasn’t in the mood to watch anything.
He settled on some kind of historical documentary, hoping the drone of the narrator’s voice would put him to sleep. Maybe he’d be sorry if he woke up in the middle of the night with a stiff neck, but at least he wouldn’t be lying in bed, staring at his ceiling fan.
An hour later, he was not only still awake, but he knew a lot more about marsupials than he’d ever wanted to know. He picked up the remote control, but rather than get caught up in a cycle of channel surfing, he hit the power button and shut the television off. He’d be better off staring at his ceiling fan because if he got lucky and nodded off, at least he’d already be in bed.
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