Heating Up

by Stacy Finz

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Stupid, right?” Harlee laughed.

  “When is the wedding and where are you planning to have it?” Dana asked, wanting so much to sound excited. Because really she was. Only the timing was bad.

  “That’s why we’re gathered here,” she replied. “I don’t want to copy Harlee and Colin and have it at the inn. I don’t want to have it at the barn in Lucky’s cowboy camp because that’s where Sam and Nate held their reception and where Tawny and Lucky are having theirs this weekend. I want something totally different, something completely out of the box. I was hoping we could brainstorm ideas.”

  “Okay,” Dana said. “Will the theme be casual or formal?”

  “I could go either way.”

  Harlee snorted. “Darla, you have to give us something to go on. Let’s start with a season.”

  “Spring,” she responded. “That’ll give me just enough time to plan.”

  “I know Sloane and Brady are planning to hold theirs at Sierra Heights by the pool,” Dana said. “That could be an option.”

  “Not funky enough.”

  “You don’t want it too funky,” Harlee argued. “This is your wedding, Darla. Twenty years from now, you don’t want to say, what the hell was I thinking, having it in the parking lot of the Bun Boy?”

  “Ooh, ooh, write that down,” Darla directed. “The Bun Boy. We could do a drive-in theme, with old cars and waitresses on skates.”

  “I’m going to save you from yourself and scratch that idea.” Harlee shook her head.

  “How about the Iron Maiden in Jonesville?” Dana suggested. “It’s supposed to be haunted.” At least it was a perfectly reputable place to have a wedding, not like the Bun Boy parking lot. And it had a story, which seemed to be what the bride was ultimately trying for.

  “I forgot all about that place,” she squealed. “Oh my God, the sugar pine flooring and all those old pictures, how amazing would that be?”

  “We could work with it,” Harlee said and mouthed, thank you to Dana. “They have good food.”

  “They have great food. I love this idea and hope it won’t be too expensive. Wyatt and I are paying for this ourselves.”

  “I’d talk to Sam first,” Harlee said. “She might have some recommendations on how to get a good price.”

  “I’ll probably get some good ideas from Tawny’s wedding this weekend. Sam is in charge, so you know it’ll be beautiful. Are you going, Dana?”

  “Uh . . . I’m not sure yet. The thing is, I wasn’t invited, but Aidan was, and he wants me to go with him.” At least he did.

  There was silence, and then Harlee said, “It was probably an oversight . . . you not being invited. Before your house burned down and Aidan came to town, you were, uh, kind of standoffish. People may have gotten the wrong impression.”

  “Now, everyone really likes you,” Darla added, and Harlee made an expression that said, could you be any more tactless?

  “You should definitely go,” Harlee said. “Tawny and Lucky would want you to, I’m sure of it. Plus, uh, it’s Aidan, hottest firefighter in Northern California, quite possibly the entire state.”

  In Dana’s opinion he was the hottest firefighter in the world. “We’ll see. I may have to work that day.” She wanted to give herself plenty of outs. “I have a client in from the East Coast who’s in a hurry to find something.” Not a lie, and not enough information to give Gia away.

  Harlee and Darla ate the entire plate of nachos, and when the potato skins came Dana ordered another pitcher of margaritas. By the time she got home it was dark. There were no messages on the answering machine; she’d been hoping for something from Aidan. But more than likely he would’ve called her cell. She flicked on the cable news to get an update on the fire and turned it up so she could hear it from her bedroom while she changed into a pair of sleeping shorts and a T-shirt.

  There was a fire report from Texas but nothing about the Sierra County blaze. She surfed the channels and decided to kill time catching up on the last few episodes of Nashville. When the eleven o’clock local news rolled around, it had a small segment on the fire. A poufy-haired blonde stood under a smoke-filled sky, reporting that more than four hundred acres had burned, but that the fire was mostly contained now. Thanks to an efficient evacuation plan, no one had been injured, the reporter continued.

  She turned off the TV and went to bed, relieved that Aidan was safe. But dread over their future left her tossing and turning. The next morning, Dana was nearly ready to leave and meet Gia for another day of house hunting when the doorbell rang. Her pulse pounded. Aidan. He must’ve forgotten his keys. She ran to the door, wanting to throw herself into his arms and give him a hero’s welcome.

  Only it wasn’t Aidan, it was Sue.

  Chapter 22

  About twenty expletives hovered on Aidan’s tongue, starting with what the goddamn hell are you doing here? Hadn’t Sue gotten his email? Really, could he have made it any clearer?

  He’d arrived to find her in his kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Dana stood in the corner, her face green, like she was about to throw up. The entire ride home from the spike out, all he’d dreamed about was taking a hot shower and sleeping for two days straight with Dana in his arms.

  Well, that was clearly on hold.

  Aidan steered Dana to the front door and took her face in his hands. “Go to work. I’ll fix this, I promise.” Isn’t that what he’d said to her before he’d left on Monday? His credibility . . . yeah, not too good.

  “I can’t do this, Aidan.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t want to be part of this. I’ve been in this position twice before. With you, my heart can’t . . . I’m done.”

  “Don’t say that.” Sound traveled in the tiny house, and he didn’t want Sue to hear them. What he wanted was for her to be on the next plane out. “You have my word that I will set her straight.”

  “What does that mean, you’ll set her straight? You two have a history together. Three years, Aidan. This isn’t something that can be solved in a day or two, and I don’t want to be collateral damage.”

  “What are you saying? You’re dumping me because my ex decided to show up on my doorstep? I didn’t tell her to come here, Dana.”

  “I know. You’re a good man and you would never intentionally hurt me. But I know how this is going to wind up. Only an idiot couldn’t see the ending to this story and I’m tired of being an idiot, Aidan.”

  “For God’s sake, she’s married.” His voice rose above a whisper. “Look, she’s in the kitchen; let’s not do this now.”

  “I’ll stay at the inn tonight.” She stepped around him and went inside her bedroom, shutting the door.

  He went inside after her. “What are you doing?”

  “Packing a bag.” She took a duffel down from the closet, set it on the bed, and started throwing clothes into it.

  “This is crazy. Why would you stay at the inn? She’ll be gone by the time you get home.” He began taking her things out of the bag.

  “Stop that.” She swatted at his hand and put her items back in the case. “I want to give you time to think about this. You loved her . . . she hurt you . . . you’ll take her back.”

  “No, I won’t. You don’t understand—”

  “Aidan?” Sue called.

  “Give me a second,” he yelled back. “I’ll call you after I’ve explained to her how it is.” He started to leave and stopped. “Don’t take the duffel.” But she did.

  After he watched her walk out and pull away from the driveway, he went to deal with Sue. She was still at the table, her eyes puffy, like she’d been crying. Even teary, with her makeup smeared, her hair mashed, and her clothes rumpled from the long trip, she was ridiculously beautiful.

  “Is she the one?” Sue sniffled and reached for a napkin from the holder on the counter.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re living with her already?”

  “It’s a long story, Sue. And I’d rather talk ab
out us.”

  This had her attention. Suddenly, hope blossomed on her face, and Aidan felt like a world-class asshole.

  “I’ll leave Sebastian.” She got up and rushed into his arms, but Aidan kept them folded over his chest.

  “Where does he think you are, Sue?”

  “He thinks I’m caring for a sick friend.”

  That was crap, Aidan deplored subterfuge. “You don’t love him?”

  “I love you.”

  “So you only married him because I wouldn’t marry you, not because you loved him?” He shook his head at the cruelty of it. “Wow, that’s messed up.”

  “I . . . I tried.” She began to run her hands up and down his sides. “I’ve missed you . . . us. We were good together.”

  After three years, he knew when Sue was initiating sex. The invasion of his personal space, the way her hands moved over him, the heavy-lidded eyes . . . transparent as cellophane. Also not happening.

  “Yeah, that’s the thing, Sue; we weren’t good together. We wanted different lives.”

  “That’s not true.” She started to cry. “I wanted a life with you, and you suffered from Peter Pan Syndrome.”

  He took a deep breath because he worried that part of what she said was true. “You wanted to mold me into something I’m not and I let you try. It was wrong of me. I should’ve told you from the start that I like who I am. But I didn’t want to disappoint you . . . my family. They love you, you know?”

  “What about you, Aidan? Do you love me?”

  He brushed away a curl that had plastered itself against her wet cheek. “A part of me will always love you. But I’m not in love with you.”

  “Were you ever?”

  If she’d asked before he’d met Dana, the answer would’ve been an unequivocal yes. Now, he honestly didn’t know. In the early days, he’d been enthralled, obsessed . . . but they’d been so different. Then later, he’d wanted to do right by her when her mother had died and she had no one. He’d wanted to make his family happy. And he’d wanted to believe in the illusion that they were deeply in love. But it had been a mistake. A big mistake. Just then, an image of Dana wanting to know every detail of his arson cases hit him like a blast from a high-pressure fire hose. Her love of plain-Jane neighborhood restaurants. Her passion for her job. And her total lack of pretense.

  “Perhaps I was lying to both of us.”

  “I came here for nothing,” Sue said, her eyes welling all over again.

  “I sent you an email, Sue. If you’d only read it, it would have saved you the cost of a plane ticket.”

  “I read it. It was vindictive, not the Aidan I know and love.”

  “It was the truth, Sue. Unfortunately, the Aidan you know is the one you made up for yourself.” He held up his hands, palms out, in a surrender motion. Truce. “I’ll take part of the blame for that and I’ll buy your ticket home.”

  She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I wanted to see Sloane and meet her fiancé.”

  That was Sue, always digging in her heels. “I’d prefer that you didn’t, but it’s a free country.”

  “Why? Because it’ll make trouble with Dana?” She spat out the name like it was a curse word.

  “Yes,” he said, and didn’t feel he owed her any more explanation than that.

  It had killed him to see Dana walk out that door, miserable and defeated. Hell, it left a little hole in his gut every time Griffin so much as smiled at her. If Griff should suddenly announce he was leaving Lina and wanted Dana back . . . ah, jeez, Aidan couldn’t even consider it. The bottom line was, he’d do anything to spare Dana hurt or humiliation.

  Sue grabbed her purse off the floor, rummaged through it until she found her phone, and made a big production of dialing. “Hi, Sloane, it’s Sue. I’m at Aidan’s house.” Then she began sobbing uncontrollably.

  Aidan gently took the phone from her. “It’s me.”

  “My God, did you know she was coming?”

  “Nope. I wasn’t home when she got here, but Dana was.”

  “Oh boy. How’d she find your house?”

  “Beats the hell out of me, but knowing this town, it wouldn’t have been difficult.”

  Sue had pulled herself together enough to make it to the bathroom, where Aidan could hear the water running.

  “She wants to see you and meet Brady. My guess is she wants to work you over . . . get you to persuade me to take her back.”

  “You don’t want her back, Aidan?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a frustrated sigh. “You once asked me why I didn’t marry her. The reason I didn’t marry her, Sloane, was because I didn’t love her . . . not like that. I couldn’t answer then because I didn’t fully understand it . . . not like I do now . . . because of Dana.”

  Silence, then Sloane finally said, “Are you saying you’re in love with Dana? Because, Aidan, you hardly know the woman.”

  He took the phone with him outside because he didn’t want Sue to hear. “I know that not one day with Sue ever filled my heart the way it does with Dana. You and Brady only knew each other a couple of months, right? How did you know with him?”

  “I just knew,” she said, so emphatically that it made Aidan want to laugh.

  “No doubts, right?”

  “None whatsoever.” Her voice hitched, like she suddenly got what Aidan was trying to tell her. When it’s real, no hesitations.

  “Oh Aidan,” she said, and he could practically see his sister working it out in that hard head of hers. “Wow! I’ve been a bitch. What do you want me to do about Sue?”

  He could hear his ex moving around in the kitchen and lowered his voice. “Help me get her home.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  * * *

  Dana checked into the Lumber Baron, grateful to get a room on a Friday night. Maddy had been polite enough not to ask too many questions. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she and her roommate weren’t working out so well. Sloane, being Aidan’s brother, probably had the full 4-1-1 by now and had passed it on to Rhys, who’d told Maddy. Small-town life.

  C’est la vie.

  At least she and Gia had plans to grab takeout from the Ponderosa, a couple of bottles of wine from the Nugget Market, and hang out in one of their rooms, watching HBO. She’d deliberately turned off her phone; if it wasn’t on, she couldn’t be disappointed when he didn’t call. In ten minutes she had to fetch the food, so on a whim she picked up her room phone and dialed.

  It rung a few times, and Dana nearly hung up. But then a scratchy, low voice came through the receiver. Suddenly she didn’t know why she’d called in the first place.

  “Hi, Mom. It’s me. It’s been a few days and I wanted to see how you and Dad are.”

  “We’re fine, dear.” Betty sounded groggy, like she’d been sleeping. It wasn’t even six thirty yet.

  And then there was silence. Nothing, just dead space.

  She waited futilely for Betty to ask how she was. “Mom, don’t you want to know about me? My house burned down, someone set fire to my office, and the man I love is poised to go back to his ex.” I need my mother.

  “I’m sorry, dear. I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

  “What if it doesn’t?” There was a long pause and Dana exhaled, feeling an ache in her heart so strong she put her palm over her chest and pressed.

  “Can we talk about this later, Dana? I’m not feeling well today.” Just a few minutes ago she’d said she was fine. Fine for a corpse.

  Oh, what was the use? Paul had been dead a long time and her parents were never getting better. They were past accepting that they still had a living child. Why did she even bother?

  “Sure, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.” But before she hung up, she couldn’t stop herself. “Paul is never coming back, but I’m still here.”

  There was more silence, soon accompanied by the sound of quiet weeping. Dana felt awful. How could she have been so heartless? “I’m sorry, Mom. I did
n’t mean to upset you. I’m just . . . I miss you.”

  “I’m here, dear.” Betty said it so softly, Dana could barely register it.

  She sat at the edge of the bed, bowing her head in sadness. By now, she too was crying, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. That pain in her heart had moved to her stomach. “The thing is, Mom, you’re not. I want us to talk . . . to be close again.”

  There was a scuffling on the other end and suddenly the faint background of the ever-present television went silent. “Is this the young man you had at the house? The firefighter?”

  “Mm-hmm. I love him, Mom, but I don’t know if he loves me.”

  “What has he told you?” Betty asked, her voice sounding less dejected than Dana could remember in recent history. Gone was that chronic throbbing that said If only I could’ve died with Paul.

  “Nothing.” Despite there being no declaration of everlasting love, their feelings for each other had felt intense. Perfect and breathless and deep. Or might she have imagined it?

  “Who wouldn’t love you?” her mother said, and for a second Dana couldn’t believe her ears. Her throat clogged and hot tears poured down her face. “Come by the house tomorrow. We’ll sit and sample these new truffles your father brought home.”

  “Okay.” Dana’s voice broke, and in that moment she knew her mother was truly trying. A little band of hope squeezed her insides. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Dana got up, went inside the beautifully appointed bathroom, and powered through a wad of tissue, staring at her puffy, red-rimmed eyes in the mirror. Shit! The food. She splashed water on her face, grabbed her purse off the chair, the room key off the table, and raced down the stairs all the way to the Ponderosa.

  Sophie was there, working the bar. “Hey there, Dana. Tater has your order ready. Let me go back and get it for you.”

  “Thanks, Sophie.”

  A few minutes later Sophie returned with a large paper bag. “Napkins and utensils are inside. You and Aidan planning movie night at home?” She smiled in that sly, knowing way.