“Luckily, his sister married a firefighter and now he has a bunch of big brothers.”
He grinned. “Pretty much.”
She was trying her best to shake off the residual fear, but she must not be doing a good job because after she got in the Jeep, he didn’t close the door. Instead, he looked at her more closely, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He just raised an eyebrow and waited. “Okay, I got a weird call on my cell phone.”
“How weird? Who was it?”
“I didn’t answer it because it said unknown on the caller ID.”
“Okay.” He thought about it for a few seconds. “That could be anybody, really. A wrong number. It doesn’t really mean anything.”
“I know. That’s why I wasn’t going to say anything. It just spooked me, I guess. Sometimes I forget about him and then—bam—something like that happens and I’m afraid again.”
“I don’t like you being afraid.”
“Me, either.” She laughed, though it was high-pitched and nervous. “I asked once about a restraining order, but he’s never really done anything to me. Which sounds horrible, but when it comes down to actual facts, he’s never even threatened me.”
“Will you be okay at work?”
She forced herself to calm down. “Yes, of course. It’s like you said, it could have been anything. And screw him. I’m going to live my life, dammit.”
He grinned and kissed her mouth. “I like that philosophy.”
After closing her door, Grant walked around the Jeep to get in and Wren tried to use that brief time to center herself. Sure, it was a nice philosophy, but it was a lot easier to say than it was to believe.
Chapter Twelve
Monday night brought snow, which meant Tuesday brought fender benders and hydrants needing to be shoveled out.
Luckily, the residents of Boston were pretty kick-ass about shoveling their hydrants out while clearing their driveways and sidewalks. Social media helped, with streets competing with each other to see who could do the best job. And as they drove around, clearing any that hadn’t been cleared, they’d stop and chat with kids who were shoveling the hydrants, or who already had.
There was still a lot of seat time in the truck and a lot of hand shoveling, which were pretty low on Grant’s list of things he liked about being a firefighter.
But there was chili in the slow cooker, and there were crackers to crush in it and a fresh bag of shredded cheddar to go on top. Sometimes it was the small things that made it a good day.
“Danny, Chris, Derek,” Scott said. “You guys have kids. I know when women are so pregnant they look like they have beach balls under their shirts, you’re supposed to go out in the middle of the night to get them ice cream or whatever, but you can’t even see that Jamie’s pregnant yet and she got up in the middle of the night to make hard-boiled eggs.”
Chris laughed. “As soon as the pee stick has a plus sign, it’s on.”
“I woke up this morning and thought we had a gas leak. It stunk up the whole place.”
“I wouldn’t complain about it,” Danny said.
“Nope.” Derek shook his head. “Keeping your mouth shut about weird smells is pretty much your life until the kid’s out of diapers.”
Scott scowled. “Women on TV always want ice cream. I get the wife who wants egg salad at two in the morning.”
“At least you had the eggs,” Chris said. “Going out in the snow at two in the morning to find a dozen eggs is worse.”
“I had it the worst,” Derek said, and they all groaned. “No, seriously. When she was pregnant with Isaac, even the faintest smell of bacon made her very sick.”
A hush fell over the room, and Scott laid down his spoon. “That’s a thing? That can really happen?”
“We had no bacon in our lives for months.”
“You went out and found yourself some side bacon, right?” Aidan asked. “I mean, a guy’s got needs.”
“I did not. I loved my wife and didn’t run around with bacon behind her back.” He chuckled. “And we ended up divorced anyway, so I should have had the damn bacon.”
They all laughed, except for Scott, who looked as if he was still in shock over the concept of going months without a food because Jamie couldn’t tolerate the smell.
“Cheer up,” Grant told him. “Maybe it’ll be vegetables she can’t tolerate.”
After they’d cleaned up, they got a little downtime before they’d be out on the streets again. Some of the guys hit their bunks and a couple went into the workout room, but Grant chose to chill on the couch. He wasn’t surprised when Gavin joined him, taking the chair closest to where he was sitting.
It had been a while since they’d talked one-on-one. He supposed that was natural. Gavin had Cait now, and Grant had Wren. More or less. But the wingman days were definitely over.
“Catch me up,” Gavin said. “Cait’s being surprisingly close-mouthed about any gossip she may or may not be privy to.”
That was a surprise. Grant had just assumed Gavin knew everything that was going on, since he thought Patty would tell Cait and Cait would tell Gavin. That’s how the relationship chain was supposed to work.
“Not much to tell, I guess. We’re a couple. We’re working on it.”
“I’m kind of surprised you haven’t moved her into your place.”
Grant gave him a sideways glance. “It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“This time. But you were together before. Five months ago, you were as good as engaged. If you’re just going to go back to where you were, you were getting ready to do that, anyway.”
“We’re not doing that.” Gavin gave him a skeptical look. “Going back to where we were, I mean. We’re getting to know each other again, but without stuff between us.”
“But you’re going to end up in the same place.”
“You think it’s a mistake.”
“I didn’t say that. I like Wren. You know that. I know how happy you guys were together, but I also remember how wrecked you were when she took off. It was rough, man, and I worry about how you’d come through if she does it again.”
“She doesn’t have any reason to do it again.”
Gavin nodded but he wanted to say more. Grant could see it on his face. “What?”
“Nothing. If you’re happy, I’m happy for you, plain and simple.”
“Just spit it out.”
“Okay, fine. When you get right down to it, she didn’t really have a good reason to do it the first time.”
“No, she didn’t. But she thought she did.”
Gavin nodded. “I guess I can see that. As long as you’re good, man. That’s all I really care about.”
“I’m good.” The words rolled off his tongue, but this was his best friend. “Mostly. She got a call on her cell from an unknown and it spooked the hell out of her.”
“She think it was that Mitchell guy?”
“She doesn’t know. But not knowing scares her, too. And when she gets scared, I get... I pull back, I think. Not a lot, but it’s a reservation. It’s there. Know what I mean?”
“You just told me she thought she had a reason to take off, and we’re supposed to accept that. But it sounds to me like you’re afraid she might think she does again.”
He didn’t want to admit to that—to say it out loud—so he shrugged. “The difference this time is that I know about him. I know what she’s afraid of. I’m hoping that’s enough. And she did tell me about the phone call this time.”
“I hope you’re right.” Gavin leaned forward, leaning his forearms on his knees. “And I hope she knows you’re not the only one she can depend on. We’ve all got her back if she needs us.”
“I appreciate that. And I’ll keep telling her that until it gets through her head.”
“We need to g
o out sometime. The four of us, like we used to do. We haven’t done that in a while.”
Grant nodded, feeling his spirits lift. They could definitely use a night out with friends.
* * *
Waking up to snow meant a slow day for the salon. Between women who were nervous to drive slushy streets and those who just didn’t want to clean off their cars, there was a flood of cancellations left via voicemail. The phone was ringing nonstop as they opened the doors, which meant rescheduling became a complicated puzzle that made everybody want a drink.
It also left a lot of time for socializing, though they did most of the talking while doing busy work. Polishing mirrors. Disinfecting things. Arguing over which Real Housewives franchise was the best.
“Hey, Kelli,” Wren said during a lull in the television debate. “The other day you said a man called when I was on break and asked for me by name, and he said he’d call back another time. Has he, that you know of?”
“I don’t think so. Nobody’s said anything and, honestly, you’re so private about things that a guy calling here twice for you would be gossip. No offense.”
“None taken.” Gossip at a hair salon wasn’t really a surprise. “I have a favor to ask all of you, though. I have...an ex in my past who wasn’t really nice and I’m pretty sure he’s in the rearview mirror, but I’d appreciate it if nobody gives out any info on me. Everybody I want to talk to has my cell number.”
Kelli’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Do you think that was him?”
She didn’t want to scare them into taking away her job. She just wanted them to keep their mouths shut. She’d told Mrs. Belostotsky the same story last night, knowing she’d share it with her husband. Not a lot of details, but enough so they’d be suspicious of anybody asking about her.
“It was probably somebody from the building management about the fire,” she said. “But since it was weird, I just thought I’d mention my ex. That’s all.”
Sadie, the owner, gave her a thoughtful look. “How nasty are we talking?”
“He never put his hands on me,” Wren answered truthfully. “But he’s been violent before and...he’s just really awful. I’d rather he not know where I am.”
“Okay.” After a short silence, she spoke again. “Do you have Facebook at all?”
“Nope.” It’s not as if she had a lot of family to keep in touch with.
“When you started here, there’s a thing we do. Just a post saying ‘hey, welcome Wren Everett to the reception desk’ kind of thing. We didn’t post a picture of you, but it’s not like your name is Jane Smith.”
Cold seeped through Wren’s body. She wasn’t exactly sure how Facebook worked, but she was pretty sure anybody searching for her name would be able to land on the salon’s page. “Okay.”
“I’m deleting it right now,” Sadie said as she scrolled through her phone. “I’m sorry. It never occurred to me it might be a problem.”
“I’m sure it’s not connected at all.” She wasn’t sure of anything, but she didn’t want to panic them, either. Or herself.
It was a relief when a client walked through the door and Wren had an excuse to end the conversation. She didn’t want to share a lot of details about her life—past or present—with her coworkers. She just didn’t want them giving out her information to any random person who asked for it.
There had been no more calls to her cell phone, so she’d managed to convince herself the unknown had been a wrong number after all. But it didn’t hurt to be cautious and the fewer people who could or would give out information about her, the better.
When she left the salon after her shift, she checked her phone and saw a missed text message from Grant.
Gavin said we should double date soon. Like we used to.
Her mind turned the phrase over and over as she walked to her car. Like we used to.
She knew she should be thankful Gavin and Cait had forgiven her enough to welcome her back into their lives. If they wanted nothing to do with her, her relationship with Grant probably wouldn’t survive in the long run. They were his family and what they thought of her would matter to him, even if it was on a subconscious level.
But it was also vaguely unsettling. Part of the reason she and Grant were taking things slow and getting to know each other again was to give them time to work through what had happened. Going back too quickly to like we used to could hinder that process and she didn’t want that, either.
There was no way she could say no that wouldn’t be awkward, though.
Sounds fun.
At home, she’d just finished a load of laundry when Patty got home from work. She looked exhausted as she sank onto the couch next to the clothes Wren was folding.
“What a day,” Patty said, and then she groaned as she put her feet up on the coffee table.
“Everything okay?”
“Oh, sure.” She waved her hand. “Just feeling old today. I wore new shoes without testing them out first and they weren’t a good choice for standing all day.”
“Ouch. Do they need to be broken in or are they just not comfortable?”
“Let’s just say they’ll be perfect for a sit-down dinner.”
Wren laughed. “I’ll tell you what. I make a pretty decent spaghetti and you’ve got all the ingredients. How about I make dinner tonight?”
She could tell Patty was about to say no, but then she hesitated and sagged against the couch cushions. “That actually sounds wonderful. You’re not going out with Grant tonight?”
“He’s working today.”
“Oh, that’s right. I swear, keeping up with everybody’s schedules is beyond me.” Without lifting her head, she turned it so she was looking at Wren. “How are things going with him?”
“Good. Things are good.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I hope you know you can always come to me if you need somebody to talk to. And it’ll stay between us. I know it seems like, because Cait’s my daughter and she’s marrying Grant’s best friend, lines might be fuzzy, but you really can talk to me.”
Wren’s throat tightened with emotion. “Thank you. I hope you know how much you mean to me. Letting me stay here has given me a chance to rebuild my life without scrambling or settling for a bad situation. And it gives Grant and me the space to work on things.”
Patty reached out and squeezed her hand. “I love having you here. Carter and I are in a good place now, but he’s growing up and doing his own thing. Or hiding in his room. It’s nice to have company sometimes.”
“I’m going to go put my laundry away and then I’ll start the spaghetti.”
After texting Carter an ETA for dinner so he could plan his video gaming accordingly and hanging up her clothes, Wren went to the kitchen. Patty, of course, tried to help because she couldn’t help herself, but she very firmly sent her back to the couch to relax and rest her feet.
The spaghetti and garlic bread were good, but the company was even better. It had been a long time since Wren had felt like she was part of a real family, sitting around the table and talking and laughing.
But tonight she did, and she was thankful for it.
Chapter Thirteen
“Gin.”
Grant groaned when Wren fanned her cards out on the table and did a little victory dance in her seat.
He didn’t care about the victory. The dance, though, was killing him. Her favorite pink sweatshirt, which she’d put on after a quick shower, was really killing him. It slid down her shoulder no matter how often she pulled it up, showing skin he wanted to kiss in the worst way. And the hem would ride up, showing off the lacy pink panties she had under it and more skin he wanted to kiss.
When Gavin had shot him a text suggesting they meet him and Cait at Kincaid’s, they’d thought about it, but decided they’d rather have a quiet night in at his place. He’d ordered pizza while she jumped in the sho
wer, and now she was kicking his ass at cards because all he could think about was sliding his hands up under that soft, thin fleece.
“How was work today?” he asked, desperate to distract himself from that line of thought.
She’d gathered the cards and was shuffling, so he noticed the slight pause. “It was okay.”
“Wren?”
Sighing, she stared at the cards in her hand for a long moment, and then looked up at him through her lashes. “I don’t want him here with us tonight.”
There was no more thought about kissing her skin as every nerve in her body seemed to go on high alert. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. But Sadie told me something today that means he could actually know I’m in Boston.”
He relaxed a little. Anything but the guy actually being in Boston could be dealt with. “What did she say?”
“I guess she did a post on Facebook welcoming me to the salon and it had my name, so it is possible he knows I’m in the city and I work there. She deleted it today, but if he searched for me, it might have come up.” She shrugged one shoulder, making the sweatshirt’s loose neckline slip again, which brought his thoughts back to kissing her skin.
He was pretty sure it was ridiculous for a grown man to be turned on by a woman’s bare shoulder, but there it was. After clearing his throat, he forced himself to focus on the subject at hand, although he really didn’t want to. He was tired of Ben Mitchell being a part of their lives, especially since he wasn’t sure they’d be able to really move forward until they knew for sure he wasn’t an issue anymore.
“You must have started working at the salon after the last time I searched for you,” he said, and she looked up from the cards she was shuffling. “What? You’re surprised I looked for you?”
“I...I don’t know. I guess maybe I thought you’d be too angry.”
“I was pissed. But I was also scared because, even if you wanted to break things off with me, the way you did it seemed so out of character for you that I wanted to make sure you were okay. So yeah, I tried to find you.” He paused to take a swig of his beer. “But it was painful and eventually I told myself if you’d wanted me to know where you were, you would have told me, and I stopped looking.”
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