An Accidental Family

by Ami Weaver

  He whipped the car into a spot down the block from Lainey’s shop and jogged across the street toward the smoke. He needed to see, to know if he could handle it. Now he could see ash floating in the air, and he heard the wail of sirens. Tension built in his shoulders and he rolled them in an effort to release it.

  He took a deep breath of the smoky air and coughed as he turned down a side street to see a fully engulfed building. He stayed well back from the cordoned-off area. Fire didn’t fascinate him the way it did other people. It was an enemy, a force, a beast to be tamed and conquered. Seeing it lick gleefully at the building gave him no thrill.

  He watched the firefighters doing their job—his job—and swallowed hard. This was what he was born to do, but he wasn’t sure he could ever go back. God, but he missed it. He missed it like he’d miss his arm if he’d lost it. Missed the adrenaline, the teamwork. The battle. It could be grim work—messy, and damn hard—but, hell, there wasn’t anything else he’d rather do.

  When the roof caved in with a shower of sparks and the flames leapt higher he shut his eyes as nausea rolled over him. For a second he couldn’t breathe. Finally he turned and walked away, disappointment lodging in his gut like a rock. He’d wondered—now he knew. He wasn’t ready. Would he ever be?

  He stopped in front of The Lily Pad, its bright windows and festive decor drawing him like a beacon through the cool, smoky air. He didn’t want to examine his relief at finding her shop okay or his anger at himself for his reaction to the fire. Or the real reason the shop pulled him: the woman inside.

  Every step closer tangled everything tighter inside him.

  He pushed it all away and walked through the door.

  Lainey looked up and gave him a small, startled smile. He didn’t miss the flash of pleasure that crossed her beautiful face.

  “Ben.”

  He tamped down his own reaction and pulled her key out of his pocket. “Thought I’d stop by and give you this.” He moved forward and shook his head when she started to get up. “No, sit. How’s the ankle?”

  “Better today.” She held out her hand and he pressed the key into her palm. Her skin was warm under his cool fingers. Her eyes widened slightly at the contact and he wondered if she felt it, too. The heat, the spark.

  Sparks.

  “Did you see the fire?” She shook her head as she slipped the key into her pocket. “Of course you must have. I can smell the smoke on your jacket. You said you’re a firefighter, right?”

  He cleared his throat, suddenly having trouble breathing. “Yeah. I did. I was.” Was. His voice stuck a little on the word. Was he or wasn’t he? Could he ever go back? What if he couldn’t?

  “Ben?” The concern in her voice made him wince. “Are you okay? You looked a little lost there for a moment.”

  Lost. That was a good word for him. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

  She studied him, and for a second he thought she’d ask him more questions. But her phone rang. She glanced at it, then at him.

  “I’ll get out of here.” So he wouldn’t touch her, he put his hands in his pockets. “Your car’s down about half a block.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured as the phone rang. “I appreciate it.”

  He didn’t hang around as she answered the phone, but he did pause at the door and look back. Her eyes were on him and she blushed just a little as her gaze caught his. He swallowed hard and walked out into the smoky fall air.

  * * *

  Lainey let out a shuddering breath as she hung up the phone from an order. She’d managed to get all the information, but it had been hard, seeing Ben through the windows as he’d walked, slightly hunched against the wind, past the windows of her shop. She’d hoped—foolishly—he’d look back at her one more time. Silly.

  She entered the last of the order information into the computer and stretched. While her ankle needed to be propped up, the position was uncomfortable for her back.

  Beth breezed back in, to-go bag from the café in hand. She shook her head as she placed it on the counter. “Was that Ben I saw walking by? Was he here?”

  Lainey took the offered sandwich and set it carefully on a napkin. “Just for a minute. He brought my car up here.”

  Beth waggled her eyebrows. “Is that all?”

  Lainey sighed. His face—so closed up today, after how sweet he’d been last night. He’d shut down even farther when, in her apparently misguided quest to make conversation, she’d asked him about being a firefighter. Clearly a sore spot. “Yeah. That’s all.”

  Beth clucked her tongue. “Too bad. He’s hot. And the two of you would be so cute together.”

  She thought of how easily she’d fit in his arms last night, and the heat in his eyes, and a little shiver passed through her. “That’s silly.”

  Beth shrugged and snagged a French fry. “Maybe. Maybe not. But you have to start somewhere, Laine.”

  She stared at her sandwich. No, she didn’t. Not really. And Ben wasn’t interested in her. Well, actually, that wasn’t true. He was clearly interested in her. But he wasn’t willing or able to take it anywhere.

  And neither was she.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE DOOR CHIMED and Lainey walked carefully out of the back room, not wanting to admit the little skip in her pulse was the hope it was Ben coming back, no matter how unlikely that was. She’d decided to ask him to her mother’s gala, and didn’t want to lose her nerve.

  It was a complete surprise to see her brother. “Kevin?”

  “Hey, little sis,” Kevin greeted her with a smile. “What’s going on? Mom said you’re moving.”

  Lainey looked at her brother, still in his scrubs. He looked tired, and there were definite lines around his blue eyes, but his smile was warm.

  She gestured to him. “Come on back. You stopped in to ask me that?”

  “Well, I was on my way to Mel’s Café for lunch and thought I’d stop in.” When Lainey opened her mouth, he held up his hands. “No, I’m not here to convince you of anything. I’m just asking.”

  Lainey moved to the worktable and pulled out a length of pumpkin-colored ribbon she was using for a silk centerpiece. Kevin had rarely, if ever, been on the receiving end of their parents’ ire. He was a surgeon, lived in an appropriate condo, and drove a nice car. No wife yet, but that wasn’t held against him. “Did they tell you what happened?”

  Kevin leaned on the table. Now his expression was concerned. “No.”

  She took a deep breath. “They bought this building.”

  Kevin cocked his head. “Doesn’t it help you out?”

  She stabbed a floral pin in with a little more force than necessary. “Kevin. They didn’t ask me. They showed me the deed and said I had to move back home.”

  Kevin swore softly under his breath. “I’m sorry, Laine. Did they say why?”

  “Of course. I’m not doing well here. Yet. It’s been a struggle. And I guess they don’t think that reflects well on them.” She didn’t mention Daniel. No point in muddying the waters.

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Moving back home?”

  She gave a sharp little bark of laughter. “God, no. I found a nice little house a friend of mine owns. I’m moving there—this weekend, in fact.”

  He chucked her under the chin, a gentle and brotherly gesture. “Good for you. I’m glad you stood up to them.”

  Emotion flooded her. She’d never really expected him to watch her back. “Thank you.”

  He stepped back. “Do you need help? I’m on call this weekend, but I can come over if I’m around.”

  She hesitated. Why not? Beth and her husband were helping, but she could use the extra pair of hands. “Sure. That’d be great.”

  “All right.” He turned to go. “I’ll be here at n
ine unless otherwise noted. That okay?”

  “See you then,” she said, and watched as he disappeared through the workroom door. Strange to have him in her corner. Maybe she’d walled herself off from her brother with her own feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. If so, shame on her. It seemed Kevin might actually be an ally.

  God knew she could use one.

  * * *

  That evening, Ben looked up from the whine of the saw to see Lainey standing there, her eyes hooded in the dim light of the rental house’s garage, her hands twisted into knots in front of her. He hit the switch on the saw and silenced it.

  “Hey.”

  She swallowed hard. “Hey.”

  He came toward her and she tipped her head back to look at him. He saw anxiety swimming in her eyes and he closed his hand into a fist to keep from stroking her face.

  “Let’s go outside—out of the dust.” He took her elbow and lightly steered her toward the porch.

  “What are you doing in there?”

  “Repairing one of the cabinet doors. Do you need some help with the painting?”

  She shook her head and her hair bounced lightly on her shoulders. He caught a hint of a lightly fruity shampoo. “Actually, I need you.”

  The words stopped him cold, even as a spear of heat shot through his belly. It would be no hardship to have her need him, but of course she hadn’t meant it that way. He cleared his throat. “For what?”

  She paced across the front lawn, kicking at the leaves. “I feel so stupid. I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate.”

  Ben was pretty sure that was his ego, flying away in shreds. “Desperate?”

  “Oh!” She spun back around and her cheeks were bright pink—a huge improvement over the paleness they’d held a few minutes ago. “I didn’t mean— I just meant—”

  “It’s fine,” he interrupted. “What do you need?”

  She stared at the sky for a minute and he wondered if she was looking for a lightning bolt.

  “A date.”

  He couldn’t have heard her right. A date? He didn’t date—even casually. If he did date, it definitely wouldn’t be a woman who was in danger of making him feel things again. He opened his mouth to tell her so but she rushed on.

  “My mother hosts this fundraiser gala thing at the hospital every year. I need to go, and I don’t have a date. I was hoping maybe you’d come with me.”

  “When is it?” God, was he actually considering it? He’d meant to say no way.

  “Next Thursday.” When he said nothing she turned even pinker and turned to walk away. “You know...this was a bad idea. I’m sorry. I’ll just go alone.”

  He crossed to her in two steps. “Black tie?” Hell, he hated black tie.

  She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “I’ll go.” Holy hell, what was he thinking?

  “It’s okay—” she started, then stopped as his words sank in. Her eyes widened. “You will?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh, thank you,” she breathed, and flung her arms around him for a brief, tight hug. “Thank you.”

  He couldn’t resist teasing a little. “Only because you’re desperate.” Hell. He was getting soft. He couldn’t possibly be letting her get to him. Right?

  She pulled away, but he looped his arms around her back and held her against him, wanting to feel her for a moment. Her gaze caught his and the world fell away for a minute. Heat wove around them, lazy and slow, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. The memory of that kiss in the park hung between them—her warm, sweet mouth and hungry response. He wanted it. Especially now, with her pink cheeks and slightly parted lips tempting him to claim them.

  She made a little sound in her throat and he let her go, setting her away from him. Her gaze refocused, then bounced away, landing anywhere but on him.

  “So...ah...I’ll get going,” she said, edging toward her car. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah.” He marshaled his thoughts away from kissing her. It took way more effort than he wanted to admit. “What time for the gala?”

  “It starts at seven—so say, six-thirty?”

  “All right,” he said, and she hurried to her car and hopped in. As he watched her drive down the road he wondered where the hell he’d find a tux by next Thursday night.

  He strode back to the garage. Then he fished his cell out of his pocket. First things first. He wouldn’t let Lainey down.

  * * *

  It seemed the harder Ben tried to keep his distance, the more he was drawn to Lainey.

  It wasn’t good.

  He locked the little house up behind him. Lainey had gone home after painting. They’d managed to avoid any more awkward moments like they’d had outside. It seemed the best thing he could do was bump up his timetable. He’d finished the ramp for his grandma just today, and he was nearly done with this rental house. So there weren’t any real reasons to stick around once he’d gotten his grandma squared away. It would be best to get away from Lainey before he got any more involved with her.

  Which was why it had floored him when he said he’d go with her to that party. That wasn’t the way to keep his distance.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face with a sigh. While he wasn’t ready to go back to firefighting yet, there was really no reason not to go back to Grand Rapids.

  Well, there was Callie and her broken family. He blew out a breath. He couldn’t go back yet. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t even return Callie’s phone calls. Eventually she’d quit trying. One more thing to add to the morass of guilt.

  He’d finish up the house, go to the gala, and that would be the end of the contact he had with Lainey. He’d make excuses and leave when she came to visit. It would be easier on both of them. She wanted to see his grandma, anyway, not him.

  He cleaned up his mess and drove back to his grandma’s house. As he got out of his truck a car turned in the driveway behind him. Grandma—coming home from her knitting group, he thought. She had a very full social calendar, which amused him no end. And pleased him, too.

  He walked up to the car and opened her door. She beamed up at him. “Hello, Ben.”

  “Hi, Grandma.”

  He went around back when the driver popped the trunk and pulled the wheelchair out. Then he held it steady as his grandma moved from the car to the chair. As much as he hated to see her like this, he had to admit she handled it with grace and humor.

  “Thank you,” she said, and waved at her friend. Ben helped her wheel up the ramp into the house.

  “This ramp is wonderful,” she said as they came in the door. “I can’t tell you how much easier it is going to make my life. I appreciate it so much.”

  Ben shut the door behind them, uncomfortable with her gratitude. He didn’t deserve it. He’d been gone for too long, and she’d needed him. Lainey had been right about that when they’d first met. “I’m glad,” was all he said.

  She wheeled around to face him, a frown on her face as she put her knitting bag on the floor by her favorite chair. “It was an honest compliment,” she said quietly. “It’s okay to accept it.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know. I just feel like I should have been here long before now.”

  She sighed. “I could have let you know, Ben. I was very clear that I didn’t want to worry you. This isn’t all on you. As you can see, I’ve got a very solid support system. I’ve been managing. And I am very grateful you took this time to help me out. That is all I meant.”

  He knew that, but it was hard to let go of the self-recrimination. He’d held on to it like a shield for the past week or so, using it to keep his distance.

  “So,” she said. “Is the house ready for Lainey?”

  Grateful for the topic-change, he said, “Pretty much. I’m still working on some mino
r repairs. But, yes, it’s otherwise ready.”

  She gave a little nod. “Excellent. She’s moving this weekend, then?”

  “Far as I know.” He opted not to mention yet that she’d asked him to the gala. That might put ideas in Grandma’s head he didn’t want her to have. She liked Lainey, and he didn’t want to get her hopes up.

  Or your own?

  Choosing to ignore that particular thought, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’ll be all ready for her. You can call her and firm up the date and time.”

  Rose cocked her head. “You’ve got a truck,” she said thoughtfully. “It might go faster if you offered to help.”

  Ben swallowed hard. Of course it would. Lainey’s car wasn’t nearly big enough to haul furniture. And he wasn’t going to not help her because he was so damn terrified of her. “When you call her, tell her I offered.”

  She didn’t push. “I will. Thank you, Ben.”

  “Sure,” he said, not adding, I’d do it for anyone. Because he was afraid that wasn’t true.

  * * *

  Lainey’s cell buzzed. The number was the same area code as she’d dialed for Jon. Her stomach instantly fell. Beth had left for deliveries so she was alone. She took a deep breath and answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Lainey. It’s Jon.” His voice was crisp. “Wanted to let you know we’ve drawn up the paperwork to begin the process for me to terminate my rights. It’s been overnighted to you.”

  Lainey froze for a moment. This was what she wanted, but somehow saying thank you seemed both wrong and inadequate. “I—okay. I’ll look out for it.”

  There was the slightest of pauses, then he cleared his throat. “Best of luck to you, Lainey.”

  She turned and stared out the window at the cars passing by. “You too. You’re going to need it far more than I will.”

  He barked a laugh, even though she hadn’t been trying to be funny. “Don’t I know it? From here on out if you have any questions refer them to my lawyer.”

  “I can’t imagine I’d have any need,” she said. “But okay.”