by Kathryn Shay
Richard gave him an I-told-you-so look.
“Can we discuss something else?” He crossed to the table. “We’ll set up another time for you to meet her.”
“Of course.” His father had always been the diplomat. “Hand me the paper, and we’ll see how Templeton stock is doing today.”
Alex’s mother reached for the Rockford Sentinel. Flipping through the pages to find the business section, she gasped. “Oh, look at this!” She raised surprised eyes to her son. “Alex, I think you should see it first.”
As she handed him the Living section, Alex was bemused. But not for long. He looked at the paper. And there she was, Francesca Cordaro, smiling up at him. The same picture had been published when she’d rescued him six weeks ago.
Obviously this had been a planned article. The story was entitled A Family of Heroes and had shots of her, her brother Nick and her father in single photos, then one of the three of them together.
He scanned the story. It focused on how Francesca had saved Alex and how Nick had dragged the rookie out of a burning building. Both had been hurt in the process. The article also detailed two of her father’s rather startling rescues when he was on the line. Once he’d rappelled into a basement full of flames to save the lives of two firefighters. Another time he’d dragged a child out of a blaze, sustaining second-degree burns in the process. The piece was highly emotional.
But what really shoved a fist in Alex’s stomach was a side bar—under Late Breaking News. “The saga continues…The Jaws of Life…or Death” and described the daring rescue made last night by firefighters from Quint/ Midi Twelve, along with a picture of a demolished car on a ramp. The text outlined how the city firefighters had extricated a sixty-five-year-old victim from the disabled automobile. The woman just happened to be the mayor’s sister. The article further played up the firefighters’ heroism— “…they pulled her from possible death…” —and the danger— “…the probability of the gas tank exploding…”
Alex looked up from the paper. His mother wore a puzzled expression; his father’s eyes held questions. Richard, of course, was gloating.
“Well,” Alex said dryly, “at least I know she’s all right.”
oOo
Anxious to see Alex, Francey threw open the front door as soon as the bell chimed. He stood on her porch dressed in crisp beige cotton trousers and a green-striped golf shirt. “Hi.”
His hands in his pockets, he gave her a half smile. “Hi.” He scanned her outfit. “Another of Diana’s designs?”
She nodded. Diana had put together cream-colored shorts and a matching sleeveless top, accented with a peach belt and a lightweight peach jacket to throw over her shoulders. It was more a debutante’s outfit, or perhaps one Chelsea would wear.
Without a word, Francey stood aside and Alex stepped into the foyer. As soon as she shut the door, he pulled her into his arms. His kiss was drugging. And a little bit desperate. Francey knew why. Things were strained between them.
“Never again,” he mumbled against her lips, “are we going this long without a kiss.” They hadn’t managed time together since Saturday morning—until now, Tuesday night.
Francey kept herself from stiffening. She didn’t want to get into a discussion, but she knew that kind of separation would continue. And the guys at work had shown her that firefighters’ schedules wreaked havoc with their partners. She hugged Alex and said diplomatically, “I missed you.”
He drew back, and his face took on a lazy grin. “We could stay here tonight. Lock the door. Not answer our phones.”
“I couldn’t do that to Tony and Erin.” Francey was expected at her nine-year-old nephew’s birthday party in half an hour.
Alex’s face went blank, but not before she saw annoyance in his eyes. “And tomorrow night’s the department softball game.”
“Yeah.”
After a moment he let her go and eased away from her. “Then can I make an appointment for Thursday night?”
Francey sighed. “You’re still angry about the weekend, aren’t you?”
“Angry isn’t the right word. More like disappointed.” He took a long, hard look at her. “It would help if I thought not seeing me for three days—after lovemaking that should go into the Guinness Book of Records—bothered you as much as it does me.”
“Wow, Guinness?”
He didn’t smile.
She sobered. “I am bothered that I haven’t seen you, Alex. But I’ve lived my entire adult life missing out on dates and special events because of my schedule.”
“And which am I—a date or a special event?” He turned away in disgust and glanced at a huge package wrapped in Buffalo Bills paper on the floor. He said flatly, “Is this the present? I’ll carry it to the car. We should get going.”
As he bent, Francey grasped his arm. “Wait a minute. If you’ve got something to say, say it now.”
Straightening, he faced her. “I said everything I had to say on the phone Sunday—when you finally got around to calling me.”
Inside, she felt bad for letting him down, but his tone put her on the defensive. “I apologized about brunch. I didn’t know I had to wear sackcloth for a week to atone for not being there.”
Anger turned his eyes into green flame. “A simple note of apology to my mother will do it.”
“Fine, I’ll write her.” Francey glared at him. “What do I have to do to appease you?”
“I’m not sure I like the way you phrased that.”
“And I don’t like your whole long-suffering-husband attitude about this.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I explained that we’d gotten another run as soon as we got back from the accident.”
“The accident I had to read about in the paper.”
She cringed inwardly. “I’m sorry. There wasn’t time to call you. And in the morning, I was waiting until seven to phone so I wouldn’t wake you up. Before I could do that, the chief summoned us to the hospital for the mayor’s sister to thank us properly.” Actually, though Francey had been punchy from lack of sleep Sunday morning, she’d loved the recognition. “I take responsibility for not calling or coming to your house. I should have known not to make plans when I’m on nights. I’m not used to being accountable to anyone. But this is how my life works.”
“You were home in plenty of time to make the brunch.”
“Yes, I was.” She threw up her hands. “I was exhausted when I got home and listened to your message. I closed my eyes for a few minutes…” A few minutes to marshal her strength before she called and fought this out with him. “And fell asleep.” She stared at him beseechingly. “I told you all this on the phone.”
“I know, in between your hectic work schedule.”
Again, the comment kindled defensive sparks in her. “And yours. I was off yesterday, and you flew to Toronto.”
“Sorry I wasn’t here when you could fit me in.”
“What do you want me to say? A firefighter’s life is crazy.”
He stared at her, but didn’t give a retort.
“I told you there would be problems.” It was a low blow, to remind him of her hesitancy to get involved with him. She’d chosen freely to start seeing him. But he’d backed her into a corner, so she struck out at him.
Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I know. I’m behaving badly. Just like you’re not used to being accountable to anyone, I’m not used to being shoved into the background of a woman’s life.”
“You’re not in the background, Alex.”
He sighed. “Our relationship is going to take some time to work out, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“Come here and kiss me again. That will help.”
Francey crossed the room. Alex grasped her shoulders and slid an arm around her back.
She winced.
“What the hell?”
“It’s nothing. I got cut Saturday night, and am still sore.”
“You got cut?”
“On
my shoulder. It’s no big deal. I didn’t need stitches or anything.”
“You cringed in pain.”
“You grabbed my shoulder blade.” At his thunderous look, she snapped, “I’m okay.” She pulled away from him and picked up her jacket and the present. “Come on, we’re going to be late to the party.”
The drive to her brother’s place, which was only minutes from Francey, was made in tense silence. They’d reached the destination before she realized she’d never kissed Alex.
Her nephew swung open the door just as they stepped onto the porch. “Aunt Francey.” His eyes widened as he spied the gift. “Is that for me?”
“You bet, sport. But I gotta have a hug first.”
Kevin hugged her, then grasped her hand and dragged her inside. She glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”
“Yes.” Alex’s tone was clearly unhappy. Hell, so was she. She had no idea a relationship was a series of tests you had to pass. She’d obviously failed this one big-time.
The Cordaro family had congregated in the back of Tony’s house, which sprawled into a big family room off an equally spacious kitchen, filled with the smell of marinara sauce and oregano. Her brother Tony, her father, grandfather and Jake Scarlatta hovered around the stove.
“It’s done.” Ben wiped his hands on the red-checked apron tied around the waist. “Al dente.”
“It’s not done,” Gus told him, his apron fancier than his son’s. The type bakers wore, his read, Firefighters Feel the Heat. “Thirty more seconds.”
“What good will seconds do, Grandpa?” Nicky asked from the table. He’d left the hospital yesterday and was staying at his grandparents’ house. He could barely pick up the beer he sipped.
“Just like firefighting, seconds are important in cooking spaghetti.”
“Hi, everybody,” Francey said.
Five men looked at her and Alex. Gus, Jake and Tony smiled.
“About time you got here,” Ben grumbled.
Jake waved.
“Hi, kid.” Tony approached them and hugged Francey. Spaghetti sauce dotted his short-sleeved yellow shirt, and there was a trace of it on his arm. “Nice to see you again, Alex.”
Francey’s grandfather came over. He kissed his granddaughter, then held out his hand to Alex. “I’m Gus,” he said cheerfully. “Heard a lot about you, boy.”
Alex smiled genuinely. “Is that good or bad?”
Grandpa encircled his arm around Francesca, carefully avoiding her injury like an experienced firefighter. “Good.”
Erin, Tony’s wife, entered the kitchen holding Francey’s eight-month-old nephew. Introductions were made. Alex nodded congenially through them all, then Francey led him into the family room, where the others sat.
He greeted her grandmother warmly and shook hands with Sue, Nicky’s ex-wife. She and their ten-year-old son were still invited to all the family gatherings, though she and Nicky barely spoke to each other.
Francey hugged Jake’s daughter, Jessica, who whispered to her, “He looks like Matthew McConaughey.”
When they reached Diana, Francey stopped cold. Next to her on one of the sofas perched Elise, blond hair skimming bare shoulders, which a sleek white dress revealed. Her blue eyes were full of a prom queen’s confidence.
The surprise on Francey’s face must have shown. “Erin invited Elise, dear. Wasn’t that considerate of her?”
Francey said coldly, “Remind me to thank Erin.”
Unaware of the negative vibes, Erin said from behind her, “No thanks necessary. She’s family, too.”
God forbid, Francey thought.
Standing, Elise took Alex’s hand and kissed him on the cheek. “Hello again.”
Francey had the unkind urge to shove the younger woman into the leather couch cushions.
“Speaking of family, you’ve met my father, haven’t you, Francey?” Erin’s voice broke into Francey’s satisfying fantasy.
“Yes, a couple of times.” Elise, Francey noticed, had let go of Alex’s hand.
Erin turned to her father. “Dad you remember Tony’s sister, Francey. And this is Alex Templeton. Alex, my father, Cameron Lester.”
Erin’s widowed father stood. He was tall, with classic blond good looks, dressed in chic golf-on-Sunday clothes. “Francey, how nice to see you again. After meeting your mother, I can see where you get your beauty from.”
A loud metallic sound reverberated from the dining room. Ben Cordaro had carried a huge pot to the table that would be used to set up a buffet. The pan’s metal top had fallen onto the ceramic tile floor when he’d placed the spaghetti on a hot pad. Francey noted that her father’s dark gaze went from her mother to Cameron Lester.
“Nice to meet you.” Cameron and Alex shook hands.
“Going to join me in here, son?” Cameron asked Alex. “Seems the other men are cooks, and I’m hopeless in the kitchen.”
Diana laughed. “This is an equal-opportunity family. Firefighters learn early to do their share. We’ll have to clean up, though,” she said, touching his arm.
Intending to go to the kitchen to get drinks for her and Alex, Francey turned away. She saw her father scowling at her mother’s hand on Cameron’s arm.
This was gonna be a hell of a dinner.
It was. Amidst the baked ziti, spaghetti and meatballs and Chianti, daggers zinged around the room.
Nicky couldn’t take his eyes off Sue, but when she looked at him, he glowered.
Ben glared at Cameron Lester every time he addressed a comment—which was often—to Diana.
Elise, who had maneuvered a seat next to Alex, found numerous reasons to gaze at him with her big doe eyes, frequently brushing his arm with hers. God only knew what she was doing under the table.
And though he was friendly to everyone else, Alex gave her the silent treatment. Francey was so uncomfortable she was glad when it was time to tackle the dishes.
All the cooks headed to the living room, and the women grabbed aprons and picked up dish towels. They insisted Alex and Cameron join the men for the start of a Yankees game.
Erin held her squirming son in her arms. “I’d like to help, but Ian’s fussing.” She smiled at Diana. “Want to rock him, Grandma?”
“And miss out on dishes? I’d love to.”
Gently, Diana took the baby. “Come to Grandma, sweetie.”
Ian gurgled and snuggled into her breasts.
“Let’s go up to your room for some peace and quiet.” She asked Erin, “Shall I get him ready for bed and put him down?”
“Yeah, he’s overdue. And he won’t know he’s missing birthday cake later.” She handed Diana a bottle. “Give him this, too.”
Diana trekked upstairs, clasping the tiny bundle to her, singing softly to him.
Ben found her there, ten minutes later, rocking Ian as she fed him his bottle. He stood in the doorway, staring at her. As he sipped strong coffee, he remembered how watching her nurse his babies had been one of his favorite pastimes. She looked even more beautiful tonight than she had then, dressed in rose-colored pants and top, accented by gold jewelry. Her blond hair curled around her face. She was focused on Ian and hadn’t seen Ben yet. Unobserved, his defenses lowered by a few glasses of wine, he drank in the sight of her.
“You’ve got your grandpa’s eyes,” Diana told the baby as he suckled noisily. “So brown they’re almost black. What a lady-killer you’re going to be. Just like him.”
“He’s got your nose, though.” Ben’s comment startled Diana. She jumped. Ian lost the bottle’s nipple and started to cry. Diana drew her gaze from her ex-husband and soothed Ian. Soon the child settled down.
“You haven’t lost your touch.” He drank coffee for something to do, his heart lurching at the memories elicited by the homey scene.
“Mmm. This was my favorite age. I loved how cuddly they were.”
“I liked them when I could get a good grip on them.”
Diana smiled at him, the emotion in her face staggering. “You did
your share of walking them in the middle of the night when they were infants.”
“You were exhausted from breast-feeding.” He came into the room and stood over the rocker. Gently he smoothed Ian’s tuft of dark hair. “I tried to talk you out of nursing Francey, remember? You got so tired out, feeding the other two.”
“I know. Grace convinced you that all Italian women did it for eight or nine kids.”
Ben lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. She was lovely, sitting there with the baby, a soft smile on her face. And he wanted her so badly he hurt.
God, he’d behaved like an ass Saturday morning. She’d been right—he was running scared. He was still afraid, so he stepped back. Slowly he crossed to the window and stared at the trees in the backyard. “The woods are pretty this time of year.”
“Tony’s done well for himself,” Diana said.
Ben was looking for something to irritate him. “They all have. Just because Tony makes six figures and the other two are firefighters doesn’t mean they aren’t as successful.”
When Diana didn’t answer, he turned to find she’d put the bottle down and was cradling Ian on her shoulder. As she rubbed the baby’s back, she said quietly, “Firefighting is one of the most heroic jobs a person can do. You know I’ve always felt that way about your work.”
Ben’s whole body went taut. “You left me because I was a firefighter.”
Her eyes clouded. Even in the dim light, he could see the sadness in them. She rose gracefully and crossed to the crib. Soothing little Ian one last time, she laid him down. Then she circled her waist with her arms. Ben recognized the self-protective gesture she used whenever she was upset. “Just to set the record straight, I left because of the danger, not the prestige or the money. You know that.” She frowned. “Hate me for what I did, Ben, not for what I didn’t do.”
He set his mug down and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He grasped her arms, but not roughly. It was more of a caress. “What you didn’t do was stay with us.” One hand slipped up to lock around her neck. “I loved you so much,” he admitted hoarsely.
Tears pooled in her eyes. “I know you did.” She ran feather-soft fingers down his cheek. “You still do, or you wouldn’t be this angry with me.” Her voice dropped a notch. “You wouldn’t have made love to me the way you did last weekend.”