Boston Fire: Heat Exchange Part 15

"I told you to wake me up."

"It's pretty early. I figured I'd let you sleep another hour, at least."

"By then, you'll probably be asleep."

He shrugged and turned on his coffee brewer. "I never go right to sleep when I get home. I'm having decaf, but do you want a coffee?"

"Sure." She got off the couch and stretched her back. "Just let me run in the bathroom real quick and then I'll help you make them."

She probably should have skipped looking in the mirror. At least her hair wasn't too insane. Though she hated sleeping with it in a ponytail, she'd left it when she crashed on his couch so it would stay reasonably contained. But her face was slightly puffy and her eyes a little bruised-looking from not sleeping well.

She'd known Aidan was okay for quite some time before she got a response to the text she'd finally given in and sent to him. Scotty had reached out to somebody and gotten the word on who was injured and how badly. But even once she had that information, her mind hadn't settled.

What the h.e.l.l was she doing messing around with a firefighter again?

s.e.x was one thing, and she would have said even that was off-limits if she'd been asked before seeing Aidan again. At least with casual s.e.x she could pretend she was leaving her emotions out of it. But there was no denying her emotions had gotten all tied in a knot when she heard Aidan could be hurt, and the need to see him-to see for herself that he was okay-had driven her to curl up on his couch and wait for him to come home.

After washing her face and using his mouthwash, Lydia went back to the kitchen. She must have beat herself up in front of the mirror longer than she thought, because he was already done making their coffees and had set them on the coffee table. He looked exhausted, she thought, taking a seat on the couch.

"You okay?" he asked, which she thought was ironic. "I know you probably didn't sleep well on the couch, but you look like something's bothering you, too."

She shook her head, not wanting to talk about it. And even if she did want to talk about it, now wouldn't be the time. Picking up her coffee mug, she drank while looking at the television screen. He'd turned the news on, but the volume was muted so she had to read the subt.i.tles.

"I guess it probably has something to do with your text from last night," he said, pushing the issue.

"I swore to myself I'd never do this again."

She should have sent something simple. Let me know you're not hurt. Or maybe just you okay? Instead, in a moment of emotional weakness, she'd shown her cards. "It was no big deal. You know how written words are. Without inflection and facial expression and stuff, it probably sounded a lot heavier than it was meant to."

"I should have sent you a text. I should have known that, once the code went out, you'd worry. But the fire was getting away from us and...I'm sorry."

"I didn't even know you were working. When Scott said you were with those guys, it scared me."

"It was a last-minute thing." He had his hands wrapped around his coffee mug, but he wasn't drinking it. "I'm not used to having people worry about me, I guess. The people who care about me the most tend to be with me when s.h.i.t happens, you know? Last night was different, but in the heat of the moment, I didn't think."

"You don't owe me any explanations," Lydia said sharply, not wanting to dig any deeper into feelings at the moment. "Or a text or a phone call."

He looked at her for what felt like forever, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you mad at me or yourself here?"

"That's a stupid question."

"Not really, because there's no good reason for you to be this p.i.s.sed off at me, so I'm thinking you're mad at yourself and taking it out on me. And I'm happy to be a shoulder to lean on, but I'm a little tired right now and not in the mood to be a whipping boy."

"Last night was just one of the reasons I never should have slept with you in the first place." She set her mug down on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I'm not cut out to be a firefighter's wife again."

"If anybody knows how to live with a firefighter, it's you. I mean, you grew up surrounded by them, for chrissake."

"Okay, let me clarify that. I don't want to be a firefighter's wife again." She used both hands to push her hair back from her face. "I have to stop using the word wife. Not wife. I swore I'd never get involved with another firefighter."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're always going to be involved with firefighters. Your brother, your brother-in-law, your friends."

"My brother-in-law? I think we can see how well that's turning out for Ashley."

"I think that's more about Danny's personality making it hard for them to talk to each other than his job." He took a sip of the decaf, watching her over the rim of the mug. "My point is that you're going to worry no matter what. I bet even when you were in New Hampshire, if there was a fire in Boston on the news, you had to know which companies were involved."

She couldn't deny that was true, but it was different. "There's a difference between being worried about a member of the larger community and waiting for the guy who's supposed to put you first to remember to let you know he's not dead."

"Well, I'm never going to be a guy who says 'I'm gonna save your life, but hold your breath and try not to inhale any smoke for a minute so I can text my girlfriend a status update,' and I don't want to be." He shrugged. "I responded to your text as soon as I could."

The word girlfriend stuck in her mind. Was that how Aidan saw her, or was he just making a point? "Now I sound like a self-centered b.i.t.c.h."

"You're not a self-centered b.i.t.c.h. You have some issues, like with your dad and your ex-husband, and right now those issues are making you a little unreasonable."

She stood and looked down at him. "I'm going to go now, because this just seems to be getting worse and we're both tired."

"I don't want you to go, Lydia."

"And I don't want to sit here and talk about how my issues are making me unsupportive and unreasonable."

"That's not fair. Look, you married an a.s.shole. That sucks, but that guy being an a.s.shole doesn't mean I'm an a.s.shole, too, just because we do the same job." He set his mug on the table. "I'm not carrying some other guy's baggage."

"It's my baggage," she snapped. "And don't worry about it. I can carry it myself."

"Stop," he said when she headed for the door. "Lydia, please. Just wait."

Something in his voice broke through her anger, and she turned back to face him. "What?"

"I'm not asking you for anything, Lydia. Just a little company for a while." He held up his hands. "Maybe we could watch a movie or something. I just don't want to be alone."

"You really should get some sleep."

"I will later. But I always come home to an empty apartment and last night sucked, but once you told me you'd be here, that was all I could think about. That you'd be here. And now we're arguing and I don't want you to leave like this." She hesitated, torn by the sincerity in his voice. "For no other reason than I'm a friend who had a s.h.i.tty night and could use some company."

"Even s.h.i.tty company?"

He smiled, and the weariness in his eyes tugged at her. "I don't care what kind of mood you're in. I always want your company. And if you get too b.i.t.c.hy, I'll just turn the TV up to drown out your voice."

She laughed and sat back down on the couch. "You're not as funny as you think you are, Aidan Hunt."

"You still laughed." His slid his hand across the sofa cushion and laced his fingers through hers before using his other hand to unmute the television. "I'll even let you pick what we watch."

Chapter Twelve.

TWO DAYS LATER, Aidan kept his gaze on the yellow reflective tape on Scotty's jacket and helped support the line as they tried to beat the flames back. The smoke was thick and the world seemed to be crackling around them, but the woman was still screaming, pleading for somebody to save her.

That was good. As long as she was still screaming, she could be saved. They pushed forward, their world reduced to each other, the fire and the woman's voice.

They knew she was the only person left in the house and they had an idea of where she was. Her husband thought he might have fallen asleep in his recliner while smoking a cigarette because he woke up with his sweatpants on fire and had to roll on the gra.s.s to extinguish the flames after throwing himself out the window. As they'd put him in the ambulance, he'd begged for them to find his wife, who'd been in the master bathroom.

"I see her," Aidan shouted. He reached over Scotty's shoulder to point to the doorway, and waited for his nod. As his friend turned the hose to keep the water spraying toward the flames that kept popping out at them, Aidan went by him with Grant Cutter on his heels.

She'd almost made it out. The fire, along with the water they had to throw at it, had weakened the structure and the ceiling had partially collapsed on her, pinning her legs. Her pleas for help were hoa.r.s.e now-barely audible and broken up by coughing-but she was moving.

Aidan spared a second to grasp her hand and squeeze it while he looked over the situation. It wasn't too bad, and if she'd been younger and stronger, she might have freed herself.

"Get ready," he yelled to Grant. Then he wedged the Halligan tool under the beam across her legs, looking for leverage and taking the precious seconds to play out the cause and effect in his head. If he moved that beam, those ceiling panels would fall and another joist might shift, but nothing catastrophic. "On three."

He counted, and then put his weight on the end of the bar until it lifted the beam. The mask blocked his peripheral vision, so he couldn't see the woman, but he heard Grant shout that she was clear.

He slowly released the tension on the Halligan and let the beam back down into place. He didn't see or feel any shifts in the structure, so he pulled it free and turned. Grant had the woman in his arms and they got the h.e.l.l out of there as quickly as they could. They had to stop a couple of times and turn the hose on hot spots that flamed up, and Aidan could hear Grant yelling to the woman the entire time. He told her over and over she'd be okay, and he tried to keep her face tucked toward his coat.

The woman had stopped coughing and was limp in Grant's arms when they cleared the building, and the kid ran straight to the ambulance with her. They were ready because of the constant radio contact, and Aidan watched Grant back out of the way, his gaze never leaving the woman.

Stepping forward, he pulled off his helmet and mask before putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder. There weren't really any words that would help. Aidan and most of the others had been there. They'd pulled a lot of people out of harm's way. They'd been too late more often than he cared to dwell on, retrieving bodies instead of rescuing victims.

The worst, though, was getting to a person on time and racing to the ambulance, only to have EMS sadly shake their heads. It had happened to Aidan only twice, and both times he'd been torn up. Could he have run faster? If he'd gone down one hallway instead of another, would it have made a difference? He'd lain in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to count off the seconds every action and decision had taken him in an effort to convince himself he couldn't have saved the victim by making a different choice.

Suddenly the woman was coughing and Aidan felt Grant's shoulder sag as the tension left his body. "Good job, kid."

Walsh, who'd stood by to kill the water pressure, gave them a nod. "Nice job. I heard the EMS talking about her husband. He's going to be fine, obviously, but all he could talk about was how his wife had been nagging him to fix the smoke detectors."

"If they'd been working, she wouldn't have gotten pinned down," Aidan said. "That would have been a s.h.i.tty thing for him to live with the rest of his life."

"Yeah. I guess one kept going off in the middle of the night and he couldn't figure out why, so he ripped them all down." Walsh shook his head. "And then fell asleep smoking a cigarette. Okay, get a drink, you guys, and then we'll see what's up."

Once he'd drained a quarter of a water bottle, Aidan pulled out his phone to text Lydia.

Fire today. I'm not hurt. Just FYI.

He grinned and hit Send. Yesterday, she'd threatened to run his phone over after he sent her constant updates, like had to help a roofer get off a roof because he sprained his ankle on a loose shingle, but I'm okay.

He was deliberately being a pain in the a.s.s, he knew, but she had it coming. In the three days since they'd had their less-than-pleasant discussion about her not wanting to be a firefighter's wife, they hadn't mentioned it again. But he hadn't forgotten about it, either.

You can forget that b.l.o.w. .j.o.b I owe you.

Ouch. She wasn't playing nice anymore.

This was a big fire. We saved a woman, so we might be on the news. I was only thinking of you.

You're only thinking of being a pain in my a.s.s.

There was a pause, and then a second text came through.

But I'm glad you saved the woman and that you're okay.

So the b.l.o.w. .j.o.b?

I'm working. Gotta run.

He chuckled and snapped the phone back into its holster. He should know better than to play games with a Kincaid. They weren't above playing dirty if it meant they won.

"Still the blonde?" Scotty asked, sitting next to him on the b.u.mper.

Aidan was totally blank for a second, and then he nodded. "Uh, yeah. The blonde from the market."

"She have a name yet?"

"No. I haven't seen her again. We've just been texting here and there, but it's gone on too long to ask her at this point."

"Maybe you'll get lucky and she'll send you a Facebook friend request or something before you get together and she figures out you have no clue what her name is." Scotty shook his head. "Women don't like that too much."

Aidan downed some more water so he didn't have to answer. The less he said to Scott at this point, the fewer lies he was forced to tell. He hated it, more than his best friend would probably believe if he ever found out, and sometimes it literally made his stomach ache.

"I guess we should see if those guys need a hand," Scotty said, nodding toward the men still working on making sure the fire was totally out. "But let me know if you and the blonde from the market want to go out sometime. I've got a few women I could call so I'm not the third wheel, and it could be a group thing. And, since I've got your back, I can find a way to introduce myself so she has to tell me her name herself. Problem solved."

Shame burned like acid in his stomach. Scotty had his back. He always had. And now Aidan was going behind his back. "Yeah, I'll let you know."

"THIS IS GOING to blow up in your face. And in his. It'll be bad, Lydia."

Lydia knew Ashley was right, but she didn't want to hear it right now. She had only a couple of hours before she had to open the bar and, since Aidan was home, she wanted to spend those hours with him. They were trying to limit the late nights after the bar closed because, as they'd both agreed, they were too d.a.m.n old to stay up half the night, even for s.e.x, and still function the next day.

"Nothing's blowing up in anybody's faces," she said.

"Look at you. You're like a teenager going to the prom and all you're going to do is hang out for a couple of hours before you go to work. You can't tell me you're just having some hot s.e.x to get it out of your system now."

"Sure I can. I just haven't gotten it out of my system yet."

"Whatever." Ashley yanked the vacuum cleaner's cord out of the wall. "It'll be no big deal for you. You'll just run back to New Hampshire. Aidan will be the one left here with a broken friendship and, honestly, he'll probably end up having to transfer to a different house."

"He's a grown man, making his own choices," Lydia responded, but the words made her feel a little sick inside. Under the b.i.t.c.hy tone, what her sister said was probably true.

The words stayed with her on the way to Aidan's, and she sat in her car for a minute after parking it on the main street where there were plenty of businesses offering excuses for being there.

It was hard to tell how Scotty would react if he found out Aidan and Lydia had been hooking up. They were both a.s.suming he'd be p.i.s.sed, but maybe he wouldn't care. h.e.l.l, maybe he'd even be happy, thinking the relationship might go the distance and Aidan would be his brother-in-law. Lydia didn't think so, though. Or at least she wasn't willing to bet on it, with the stakes being so high for Aidan.

She walked down the street and turned the corner to Aidan's building. After jogging up the back stairs to the third floor, she gave a quick knock and let herself in. Aidan walked out of the bedroom when she called for him, looking annoyed.

"Hey," he said. He gave her a quick kiss, but his mind was elsewhere. "I can't find my d.a.m.n phone. And I can't call it because I don't have a landline anymore."

"You didn't do any laundry this morning, did you?"