Wow, that hurt to say. And it wasn’t only because of Scott. She would genuinely miss all of them.
“I know everybody’s sad to see you leave the company, but what the hell is this goodbye bullshit? You’re going to Ladder 41, not Michigan.”
Jamie gave a short laugh, which surprised her. “Why Michigan?”
“I don’t know.” Lydia shrugged. “I don’t know anybody who’s ever gone to Michigan, so it seems like you moving there would merit a goodbye.”
“You’d never met anybody from Nebraska before me, either. I guess I’m all about broadening your horizons.”
“No, you’re all about trying to change the subject. I’m a bartender. I can sense these things.”
“I know I’m not moving to Michigan. I don’t know if or when I’ll move at all. But I don’t think I’ll be coming in here for a good long while. This is pretty undeniably his turf, you know?”
“You’re my friend. I’m not letting you disappear on me.”
Jamie’s throat tightened and she prayed she wouldn’t burst into a full-on bout of tears. “And I’ll see you when you’re not working, like most people see their friends.”
“I can’t accept that you’re not meant to be together.”
“I’m having a hard time accepting it myself.” Jamie wished Lydia would move on. Unfortunately, if she kept pushing at her about Scott, Jamie knew their friendship would eventually wither and die because she wasn’t going to rehash it every time they spoke. “I should probably go home. I’ve got my stuff in the car and I want to go through it and see what I’m taking with me to L-41.”
“The coffee’s on the house today. I know you won’t stop in, but text me or call me and we can get together, okay? I want to hear about your new assignment.”
“I will.”
The phone rang and Lydia gave her hand a squeeze before walking to the register end of the bar to answer it. Jamie saw her chance to escape without further drama and slid off the stool, but the picture on the wall caught her eye.
She stared at the photo of Bobby Orr, the light reflecting off the glass highlighting the many—possibly even hundreds—of fingerprints smudging it. There had probably been a lot of broken glasses over the years. Kincaid’s Pub had probably seen its share of broken hearts, too.
“I don’t know if you do broken hearts,” she said to the man in the picture. “But I feel like my heart shattered like glass, so you’re worth a shot, right?”
She kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to the picture, holding them there until the glass warmed under her touch. And then she laughed at herself and walked out of the bar.
EIGHTEEN
JAMIE STOPPED BY to say goodbye. Are you okay?
Scott read the text from his sister twice, wishing she’d left well enough alone. It was hard enough sitting on the couch feeling as if he’d lost everything while the guys went on with their lives around him.
They’d come back from a call and every trace of Jamie was gone, as if she’d never been there. The others were in good spirits, glad to have Danny back, and he tried. He was genuinely happy to have Danny back, too, but there was a void in Scott’s world he couldn’t ignore.
He typed in his response to Lydia. Yeah, I’m fine. Busy. Call you later.
Okay.
He wouldn’t call her later. Right now, he didn’t want sympathy or a lecture and he knew she’d give him one or the other.
The couch creaked as Danny sat down next to him and propped his legs up on the coffee table with a sigh.
“How’s the leg?” Scott asked.
“It’s good. It’ll probably ache a little later, but it’s better than I’d hoped. Mostly it’s just being up and around for so many hours. I had too many weeks of sitting on my ass, watching television.”
“Says the guy sitting on his ass in front of the television,” Scott said, and they both laughed.
“How are you doing?”
“Fine.” That was going to be his party line for the foreseeable future. He was fine. Life was fine. Work was fine. Everything was fine.
Maybe if he repeated the lie often enough, it would eventually become the truth.
“You want to talk?”
Scott realized it was quiet and the other guys had all found someplace else to be. “Not really.”
Danny leaned his head back against the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I’m your lieutenant. I’m your brother-in-law. I’m your friend. I get to worry about you from all different angles.”
“You heard what happened, then.”
Danny snorted. “Was that in question? If anybody should know you can’t keep a secret around here, it’s you.”
“Yeah. Nothing like embarrassing yourself in front of everybody.”
“Embarrassing yourself? Nobody’s laughing at you, Scotty.”
He snorted. “No, but they’re talking.”
“Of course they are. Number one, they all consider you a friend and nobody likes seeing you hurting. And nobody wants to say or do the wrong thing and set you off.”
“I’m not going to go off.” The only person he was mad at was himself.
“And I won’t lie to you. Everybody respects the hell out of Jamie Rutherford, so it also made them all a little uncomfortable.”
“Sorry to cause them discomfort.” He started to get up, but Danny put a hand on his shoulder and shoved him back.
“Scotty, don’t be a dick. As your friend, I just want to know if you’re okay. And as your LT, I want to know if you’re okay to be here or if you want to take some time off.”
Time off to what? Wander around his apartment and take stock of how empty his life was? To think about how full it had been for a few weeks before he’d thrown it all away? Maybe he could hit some clubs and hook up with somebody who could never be Jamie just to hate himself a little more.
“I need to work.” He said the words quietly, afraid to show just how badly he needed to be anywhere but alone at home. “I might even cover for some other companies. Lots of guys looking for some time off with summer coming.”
“If she was the one, you won’t be able to work hard enough to forget her,” Danny said. “That’s not how to fix this.”
“I’ll never forget her,” Scott said, clearing his throat when his voice almost betrayed him. “I just want to work hard enough to sleep at night.”
* * *
JAMIE COULDN’T HANDLE being in her apartment and she had no idea what to do about it. She’d already escaped the loneliness that seemed to echo through the place by going to Kincaid’s to see Lydia. She’d even done a few errands. But with hours stretching ahead of her, she was afraid she’d do nothing but flop on her bed and cry until she made herself sick.
She thought about reaching out to her family but, as much as she loved them, they wouldn’t give her what she needed and might even make it worse. There would be sympathy and gentle advice that would feel like empty platitudes. And she would cry, which would wreck her mother. Not being able to hug over the computer would be too hard.
Grabbing her car keys from the kitchen drawer, she put on her shoes and gave herself a pep talk before heading deeper into the city. She took a couple of wrong turns, almost went the wrong way down a one-way street, and got flipped the bird at least twice, but finally managed to land a parking space within walking distance of the pizza place Steph’s family owned.
When she walked inside, assaulted by the delicious aroma of food she had no appetite for, she was glad to see it wasn’t too busy. She might be able to steal Steph for a few minutes. Walking up to the counter, she smiled at Steph’s dad.
“Hi, Mr. Lawson. Is Steph around tonight?”
“She’s out back, chopping veggies,” he said.
Mrs. Laws
on looked up from the pizza she was boxing and, after a look at Jamie, waved her around the counter. “I’ll take over for her for a few minutes. You girls go have a break for a little bit.”
She could have cried tears of gratitude for Mrs. Lawson’s mom radar, but she just smiled. “Thanks.”
When Steph looked up from the line of tomatoes she was slicing, her expression made Jamie laugh. “Hey, what are you doing here? Did you drive?”
“I drove. And your mom said she’d take over the veggies so we can visit for a few minutes.”
“If you’d told me you were coming this way, I would have tried to get somebody to cover for me.”
“It was kind of a last-minute, impulse thing.”
Steph looked at her, and then waved for her to follow. Winding through the busy kitchen, they dodged the three employees assembling orders and went into the break room. After closing the door behind them, Steph gestured for her to sit at the small table.
“What happened?” she asked. “You look exhausted and sad.”
“Scott and I broke up.”
“I’m sorry.” Steph tilted her head. “I hate to be dense, but wasn’t that the plan all along?”
“It was, but the plan fell apart when I fell in love with him.”
“Oh, honey.” She stood. “Hold on two seconds.”
It was more like two minutes, but since Steph came back carrying a big basket of French fries and a dish of cheese sauce, she forgave her. Jamie hadn’t thought she’d be able to eat anything tonight, but that was serious comfort food.
“Okay,” Steph said, once they’d each had a few fries dripping with cheese sauce. “Tell me what happened.”
Jamie told the story, starting with her chat with her mom, during which she’d decided to wait until they were no longer with the same company before figuring out if they had a future. And then she walked Steph through the fire and Scott disrespecting her authority in an attempt to keep her safe, despite the fact she knew exactly what she was doing.
Steph held up her hand, shaking her head. “He did that to you? What an asshole.”
It wasn’t until she heard the words come out of Steph’s mouth that Jamie realized why she’d come here. It wasn’t just visiting a friend so she wasn’t alone. She’d wanted somebody to be pissed off with her. Because she was pissed. She was hurt and sad and lonely, but she was also mad as hell at Scott.
“And then he told me he did it because he’s in love with me.”
Steph sat back in her chair, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. We were still on the scene with both companies right there.”
“He’s in love with you?”
“That’s not really the point.”
After dredging a fry in cheese sauce, Steph popped it into her mouth, frowning. Considering how long she chewed, Jamie knew she was just buying herself time to think.
“So you fell in love with him. And then he said he’s in love with you... And?”
“He said it in front of everybody,” Jamie clarified for her. “Even knowing how important it was to me to keep our personal and professional relationships very separate.”
“But he was scared for you.”
“And that is the point. He got scared for me and interfered with my job and then embarrassed me in front of guys under my command.”
“Because he loves you,” Steph pointed out. “Did he apologize?”
“Yes. And he brought me chocolate pudding.”
“Aw.” Jamie must have made a face because Steph straightened up and scowled. “He’s still an asshole, though.”
That made her laugh, but it was short-lived. “That’s the problem. He’s really not. He knows he screwed up, but it doesn’t change the fact he’d probably do it again. No matter what he says, his actions spoke louder than his words. And I’m not changing how I live my life.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” Steph slid the dish with the last bit of cheese sauce across the table to her. “What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to focus on being the best damn fire lieutenant that Ladder 41 has ever had.”
She said it hoping to lighten the mood, but Steph didn’t laugh. “You don’t think you can fix things with Scott? I mean, you love each other. Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to be able to get through stuff together?”
“I’m not giving up my career and I can’t change who he is or how he feels about my job, so it’s better to recognize it won’t work now, rather than down the road.”
She said the words without her voice choking off, and she really believed them, but it would take time for her to accept that it was really over. They were done. Tears welled in her eyes and she swiped at them with her sleeve before they could fall.
“I’d get you a beer,” Steph said, “but you can’t drive for shit sober. I’m not giving you alcohol.”
“Hey! I’m a great driver. It’s this city. Nobody can drive in Boston.”
Steph snorted. “So it’s not you. It’s all of us?”
“Yes.” Jamie nodded. “I know you have to get back to work, but thanks for the talk. And the cheesy fries.”
“Why don’t you hang out and have some real food to eat? Once the late dinner rush is over, we’ll head to my place. Watch a movie. Drink some wine. You can crash on my couch.”
Jamie thought about how painful it was to think about Scott every time she walked into her apartment and knew she’d have to get over it at some point. But not tonight. “That sounds wicked awesome.”
“Wicked awesome,” Steph said, and then she laughed. “You’re starting to sound like us now, Jamie.”
“That’s okay. As long as I don’t start driving like you.”
NINETEEN
TWO WEEKS. SCOTT SAT at the bar, nursing a beer and watching the evening news on the big screen with no sound. Two weeks with no Jamie. With no love and no laughter.
And then, suddenly, she appeared on the screen, with her helmet gleaming in the sun and smiling at the reporter who had a microphone in her face. Her name was on the bottom of the screen, along with a caption. Happy ending for child who climbed a tree to rescue kitten.
He stared at her face, drinking in the sight of her, as his heart ached in his chest. God, he missed her. He missed her face and her laugh and her touch and every damn thing about her. He missed the sound of her voice.
“Hey, Lydia. Turn up the TV for a second?”
She looked up at the screen as she moved toward the remote control next to the register and then stopped. “No. If you want to hear Jamie’s voice, you can grow some balls and go talk to her like a man.”
“Jesus, you can really be a bitch.”
“Nothing warms a man’s heart like the love his children have for one another,” Tommy said from the corner.
“I love them.” He glared at Lydia. “I just love Ashley more.”
She laughed at him. “Because she coddles you and gives you ice cream.”
“Hey, the ice cream’s for the baby.”
“Sure it is. Because every growing baby in the womb needs ice cream three times in a week.” She stepped closer, a bar rag dangling from her hand. “Go talk to her.”
He pointed at the screen. “She’s rescuing children who rescue kittens.”
“That was yesterday afternoon. Slow news day, I guess, so they’re replaying the feel-good stuff.” She sighed and shook her head. “I happen to know she’s home and was planning to clean out her refrigerator today. I know this because I tried to talk her into coming in to visit and that’s what she told me.”
“How often do you talk to her?”
“Almost every day.”
That hurt—the reminder that she wasn’t really gone. She was only gone from his life. And it was his own damn fault. “H
ow is she?”
“She’s fine. She’s really happy at Ladder 41 and the commute isn’t too bad.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“I do know what you mean, but this is one of those fuzzy boundary things. I’m her friend.”
“You’re my sister.”
“Yes, I am. And if you weren’t such a dumbass, you might have caught on to the fact I’ve told you twice to go talk to her since you walked in.”
“Oh.” Hope flared to life as he realized if Lydia thought he should go talk to her, that meant Jamie hadn’t totally put him in the rearview mirror. There was a chance.
“Yeah, oh. I think you should lay off the hockey for a while. You’ve taken too many hits to the head.”
He drained the rest of his beer and then slid off the stool. “I’m leaving now. You can save your abuse for the paying customers.”
“Are you going there now?”
“I think so, before I chicken out. If I don’t go straight there, I might talk myself out of it.”
“Don’t.” She reached across the bar to take his hand. “Leave your pride at the door and talk to her.”
He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Just so you know, I don’t really love Ashley more than you. You’re both equally pains in my ass.”
“You might want to come up with other ways to express your feelings before you get to Jamie’s.” She smiled. “Call me later.”
Hope buoyed him for most of the trip to her apartment building, but he felt himself faltering when he stood on the sidewalk in front. He had no idea what he could say, other than he loved her. He still loved her and that was all he had, but it didn’t feel like enough.
But he knew if he walked away right now, he wouldn’t come back. Seeing her face on the television and Lydia letting him know he still had a chance had given him the courage he needed, but it was fading.
And he wished the damn downstairs door didn’t lock. It seemed like being able to knock on her door would make it easier. Asking her if she’d come down three flights of stairs to let him in was a lot more awkward.
Fully Ignited (Boston Fire #3) Page 23