“But you still helped those people get out. They wouldn’t have been able to escape that fire without you,” Ava said. She reached out to brush her fingers over his forearm, and the touch was so simple and strong and downright vital that it steadied him despite the gut reactions ricocheting through his veins.
“Yes.” All of them save one, and of course that one would stick in his ribs for the rest of his life. Damn it, he really couldn’t tell Ava this part. As much as Brennan wanted to respect Mason’s memory, the impulsive decision he’d made to lead his best friend up to the third floor to look for that little boy was Brennan’s burden to bear. He didn’t deserve to lessen the load by airing it out.
He needed to carry the weight, forever. End of fucking story.
“Anyway, I got hurt when part of the floor collapsed. The injuries were a career-breaker, and you know the rest.”
Brennan waited, mentally doubling down for the detail-seeking questions Ava was sure to launch in his direction.
Only, she didn’t. “I’m really sorry you were hurt,” she said, capping off the words with a no-nonsense dip of her chin. A second later, she reached for the bowl on the counter, picking it up like business as usual, and damn, she couldn’t have thrown him for a bigger loop if she’d started belting out show tunes right there on the linoleum.
Scooping up the fork, Ava started whisking the eggs, but her lack of kitchen experience sent a splash of the mixture over the edge of the bowl and onto the hand he’d planted over the counter.
“Shit,” she whispered, her gaze yanking up to his. “Sorry.”
The flush on her face, so natural and sweet, smoothed out Brennan’s emotions. “You really weren’t kidding about making a mess in the kitchen, huh?”
“At least I warned you,” she said, biting her lip as she grabbed a paper towel from the counter to help wipe up the spill.
“You did.”
For a minute, the only thing that passed between them was the click of the burner and the heady scent of butter melting in the skillet, and the quiet allowed Brennan to recalibrate. He might not want to stitch his entire heart all over his sleeve, but talking to Ava about his past, even if only a little bit, hadn’t been as bad as he’d expected.
He slid her a glance, and yeah, still freaking sexy, even in his T-shirt. “So do you want to try again with the eggs here?”
“Seriously?” she asked, although the question was oddly devoid of her trademark sarcasm. “You don’t have to humor me to save my feelings. I’m clearly not chef material.”
Damn, she was tough. More on herself than anything else. Too bad for her, Brennan had her number. “It’s scrambled eggs, Spitfire. Not rocket science. So are you going to do this or not?”
Ava chirped out a laugh that shot all the way through him, ushering away the last remaining scraps of his unease. “Did you just dare me to cook?”
It took every ounce of Brennan’s self-control not to turn off the stove, chuck the eggs, and have Ava for dinner instead, right here on his kitchen counter. “Yup.”
She plucked the spatula from his hand, pointing it at him with a sassy, sexy smile as she took his challenge head-on.
“Careful what you wish for, Nick Brennan. You just might get it.”
Chapter Twenty
Ava stared at the screen on her laptop so hard, it was a wonder the damn thing didn’t cave in from the pressure. The pages of her faded blue notebook were crammed with so much information that the notes spilled over into the margins, bursting with ideas and quotes and Web site references on first responders. Layla had eagerly pitched in by looking for photos to back up Ava’s findings, cherry-picking the best ones to go with Ava’s notes. Ian had offered up the name and number of a lieutenant friend of his in Bealetown when she’d reluctantly admitted to him that she’d been working on the piece, and even Gary had essentially left her alone while she poured herself into all things hero.
She’d spent the last six days up to her chin in research on firefighters and rescue squads, determined to write Nick Brennan’s story in a way that would show the entire Blue Ridge how deserving he was—how deserving all these men and women were—of praise and respect.
Because the minute he’d told her the heartbreaking details of how he’d been hurt in that apartment fire, it had hammered home what she already knew. Brennan did have a story beneath his dark and broody exterior, and it was one worth telling. Ava was dead-set on showing him how worthy he was despite the damage that had been done.
The best way she knew how to do that was with words.
“Wow.” Ava’s sister-in-law Lily’s voice snagged her out of her work-induced twilight zone, bringing her back to the soft lights and mouthwatering smells of the Sweet Life. “That must be one hell of a story. You haven’t even touched your cookies, and those linzers are your favorite.”
Lily gestured to the side table at Ava’s elbow, where a plate brimming with delicate jam-filled sweets gleamed up at her like tiny stained glass windows.
“They are,” Ava agreed, her chest twingeing with remorse as she slid a cookie from the plate. The flaky, rich butter cookie combined with a hint of strawberry tartness on her tongue, and holy cow, her brother was a culinary rocket scientist. “I guess I lost track of time.”
“That’s what Sunday afternoons are for. Especially around here.” Lily’s gaze swiveled over the cozy interior of the empty dining room as she plopped down next to Ava on the well-cushioned sofa. “So, tell me about this article that’s got you all wrapped up.”
“Uh.” The ungraceful grunt was all Ava could manage around the sudden trepidation boomeranging through her veins. Yes, she was certain her rescue squad story deserved to be told, and double yes, she knew beyond any and all doubt she could tell it poignantly, with an emotion that would impact everyone who read it.
But Ava had spent a week’s worth of nights chasing away the chill of winter in Brennan’s bed, and her sex life wasn’t the only thing getting hotter by the millisecond.
Which was more than a little problematic, seeing as how she’d kept her jaded, cynical heart locked in an ice age for the last seven years.
“I’m writing a personal interest piece,” Ava said, dipping her toes back into the conversation with care. As much as she wanted to keep her story under wraps until it ran, right after Christmas, putting Lily off altogether would be rude.
“Ooooh.” Lily’s eyes sparked with interest, and she rubbed the tiny baby bump over her apron with one hand. “Better than the holiday pageant? Because those kids were really cute.”
Ava bit back the urge to wince at the mention of her last assignment, turning the expression into a smile over Lily’s genuine enthusiasm. “Yeah.” She hesitated, not sure if she should say more, but oh, screw it. Brennan’s story was going to save her career, and the truth was, Ava was two degrees from exploding with excitement over writing it. “Actually, I’m putting together an in-depth article on firefighters.”
“Wow. That story you did a couple of weeks ago on the fire at Joe’s must’ve really sparked your creativity, huh?”
Biggest. Euphemism. Ever. “Ahhh, yeah. I’d say that’s pretty accurate.”
“Ava.” Lily drew the word out like warm saltwater taffy. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your exclusive peek at a tall, dark, and totally secretive bar manager, would it?”
“Why would you think that?” Heat prickled all the way to Ava’s temples, but Lily offered no quarter.
“Because he’s completely good looking, your blush matches those poinsettia plants over there, and you just answered my question with a question. I know you’re a reporter and that makes you naturally inquisitive, but come on, sweetie. I didn’t just fall off the apple cart. Plus”—Lily paused to nudge Ava’s knee with her own—“if I’m not mistaken, you’re covering up yesterday’s shirt with a Double Shot hoodie that’s three sizes too big for you.”
Well, crap. Ava should’ve known her meticulous sister-in-law would notice her idiot blu
sh and her best-effort stab at recycling her couture. But really, it wasn’t Ava’s fault that Brennan had seduced her into staying at his place all weekend long. A girl only had so much willpower.
“Okay, okay,” Ava said, ducking her chin into the ocean-scented black fleece, and great—now she was grinning too. “Brennan is the key to the article I’m writing, and he and I have been spending a lot of time together lately. But it’s not that big a deal.”
“Oh yeah, I totally got that from your Cheshire cat impersonation.” Lily snorted, although the gesture was more playful than rude.
“Just because I’m enjoying myself doesn’t mean things are serious,” Ava said, sliding the plate of cookies between them on the couch. “Let’s face it—I’m not exactly a shining example when it comes to stellar relationships with the opposite sex.”
Lily picked up a cookie, nibbling the edge. “Do you want to be?”
Ava’s pulse took the slingshot route through her veins. “What do you mean?”
“You just seem happy, and I’ve never seen you grin like that over a guy before.” Lily popped the rest of the cookie into her mouth before adding, “Being serious about someone you really like isn’t such a bad thing. Even for cynical you.”
Ava paused. She’d never made any bones about her views on relationships, and it wasn’t like Lily was wrong about her current state of happiness. At least her sister-in-law had nailed two of the three.
“My hanging out with Brennan isn’t really a bad thing,” Ava finally said. “But we’re keeping things casual. Also, let’s face it”—she aimed a pointed glance toward the door leading back to the Sweet Life’s kitchen—“Pete is just a smidge overprotective as it is. If he finds out I’ve spent every night this week at Brennan’s place, his response would be anything but laid back.”
“Please.” Lily bit into another cookie, pausing for only a minute to let a blissful mmm eke out before she added, “You can take my word for it. Pete’s no saint in that department. He may mean well, but he has no room to get uppity.”
“Argh!” Ava barked out a laugh, even as she resisted the urge to jam her hands over her ears and start belting out la-la-la to block out the image parading across her brain. “Look, I get that you two didn’t get pregnant via Immaculate Conception, but come on. That’s my brother.”
“Exactly,” Lily flipped back, shifting against the oversized leather couch cushions to pin her with an I-mean-it stare. “He’s your brother, not your keeper. He’s protective of your well-being, and he’s got good reasons for that.” What her words lost in edge, they picked up in emotion as she gave Ava’s hand a quick squeeze. “But you’re twenty-nine. If he can’t handle the concept of you having a little hot, mutually exclusive sex with someone you like . . .”
“Jeez, Lil. You’re not pulling any punches, huh?” Ava hooked her arm over the back of the sofa, making triple-sure her brother wasn’t around to overhear them. She should’ve known matter-of-fact Lily would throw it all out there as is.
“I’m sorry,” Lily said, her expression telling Ava she meant it. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Or pry.”
Ava paused, fiddling with the zipper on her borrowed hoodie. Ah, to hell with it. “You’re not prying. And you’re also not wrong.” The admission tasted decadent on her tongue, spurring her to share more. “But you and Pete are all I’ve got, and the last thing he needs right now is to worry about my relationship status.”
“And your relationship status is . . . ?”
A pang unraveled in Ava’s belly, but she couldn’t deny the kernel of truth nestled tightly beneath it. “My relationship status is pretty freaking enamored with Nick Brennan.”
In hushed tones, she offered Lily the story of how she and Brennan had originally met. Being well versed in both Pete’s and Ava’s past, Lily’s gaze flashed with understanding as Ava explained her hasty departure from Sapphire Island, then lit with sisterly happiness as Ava copped to how seamlessly she and Brennan had gotten reacquainted over the last couple of weeks.
“Oh my God, sweetie. You really do like him.”
“I don’t know,” Ava said, going for the full-on confession even though her defenses were screaming at her to toughen up and go the no-big-deal route. “I mean, okay. I do like him. But as amazing as I feel when we’re together, the whole thing scares the crap out of me too. I don’t want it to get serious.”
Lily’s blond curls bounced off her shoulders in an adamant head shake. “Ava, listen to me. You have a good heart. I understand why you’re feeling wary, but don’t run just because you’re scared this thing with Brennan might not work out.”
“But what if . . .” Ava stopped, her heart pounding an unsteady rhythm as the rest of her words rushed out on a whisper. “What if I’m scared things will work out? I fell in love with him once, Lily, and I screwed it up enough to lose seven whole years. What if I fall for him again and I lose even more than that? Or worse yet, he does? I just can’t risk it.”
“Yes, if you take the risk, you both might lose everything,” Lily said, sending a streak of shock between Ava’s ribs.
“What?” Was she serious?
“I love you, honey, but your brother taught me a long time ago not to bullshit a bullshitter, so I’m just going to give it to you straight. Deciding to be with somebody is a risk, and with a past like yours, it’s a pretty scary one. Sometimes, relationships don’t work out and hearts get broken.”
Ava dropped her forehead to her hands. “If this is supposed to be a pep talk, we need to work on your rah-rah skills.”
“I’m not done,” Lily argued, albeit without heat. She scooped up Ava’s fingers, looking her directly in the eyes. “You wouldn’t listen if it was all hearts and giggles, now would you?”
Ooookay. So Lily had a point. “I guess not.”
“I know not. While some relationships don’t work out, some do. I get that I’m about to border on total sapdom here, but I’m a firm believer that if you take the leap for the right person, they’ll catch you. Even if you surprise them by jumping.”
All the deep breaths in the world couldn’t temper the holy shit coursing through Ava’s veins. “Did Pete catch you?”
Lily’s face broke into an ear-to-ear grin. “Right after I was done catching him. We kind of padded each other’s landing.”
“And you weren’t afraid he wouldn’t?” Ava asked, but Lily’s total lack of hesitation squashed the flare of doubt lurking in her brain.
“Maybe at first. But once I realized how I felt, I knew I’d do whatever it took to show him what he meant to me.”
On second thought, holy shit didn’t even begin to cover this. Ava hadn’t thought twice about diving into Brennan’s story—she’d known all along how much it deserved to be told.
But diving into his arms—to stay this time——felt like a whole different ball game.
“Did you ever think putting yourself on the line like that with Pete might be the biggest risk of all?”
“Hell yes.” Lily’s laugh echoed between them, strangely knocking Ava’s tension down a notch. “I tried to beat him in a widely publicized TV baking competition, remember? But it was how I tried to beat him that made the difference.”
“I’m sorry,” Ava admitted, and really, there should be a handbook for all this relationship stuff. “I don’t understand.”
“I stayed true to myself, and I did what was in my heart. If you do that, everything else has a way of falling into place.”
Ava blinked in a desperate effort to tame her swirling thoughts. But the longer she sat there, the louder and more insistent her gut instinct became.
If she stayed true to herself—deep down true to her roots—she’d jump into Brennan’s arms just as fast and as sure as she’d jumped into his story.
No matter how vulnerable it made her. No matter how uncharted the territory.
No matter what the risk.
Brennan was up to his elbows in an unremarkable Monday post-dinner shift when his ce
ll phone started doing the jump-and-jangle in the back pocket of his jeans.
“What the hell?” he murmured, sliding the thing from its usual hiding place. Less than a half dozen people had the number, and nearly all of them were sharing the same space with him right at this very moment.
Except his sister, whose smiling image greeted him like a gut punch from the screen of his caller ID. Brennan’s eyes did a quick tour of the Double Shot’s bar area, merrily lit with strings of tiny colored bulbs, and he reluctantly sent the call to voice mail.
Christmas—and Ellie’s wedding along with it—was five days away. Less than a week from now, he’d be lurking in the shadows of Saint Mark’s Church, watching his sister rehearse her way down the aisle and trying like hell not to think of the last time he’d been in the place.
Damn it, he missed his best friend.
“Hey. You okay in there?” Ava’s voice threaded past the sudden squeeze of both his memory and his back muscles as she emerged from the hallway leading to the restrooms, and he stuffed his phone back into his pocket with a nod.
“Sure,” Brennan said, trying not to wince at his heavily slanted version of the truth. At least he felt better now that she was in front of him. Inhale. Breathe. “You doing okay down there?”
He tilted his chin in the direction of Ava’s regular seat at the end of the bar, and she laughed. “I am. Although I think you’re going to have to cart me out of here in a wheelbarrow later. That shepherd’s pie was unbelievable. I had to restrain myself from licking the plate.”
Brennan returned her satisfied expression with one of his own. They’d spent every one of her nonworking hours together over the last week, and each passing minute had felt more and more right with Ava nearby. She’d trusted him with her past, and listened sympathetically when he’d told her what he could of his. They were picking up where they’d left off seven years ago, and Brennan couldn’t deny how down-to-his-bones good he felt when they were together.
All Wrapped Up (A Pine Mountain Novel) Page 22