Hayden had been postponing this conversation for several days now, but she knew that that wasn’t a permanent solution. Instead of burying her head in the sand, she had to face the fact that she and Heath needed to discuss a few things, including the house and the car. Ellen had informed her that Heath was working the day shift, so after school was over, she got into her car and drove to the fire station.
Her reasoning was that, in front of his long-term colleagues, he wouldn’t make a scene or try to evade the necessary discussion again. Five days ago, he’d succeeded in making her run, crying, from his apartment, but that wasn’t going to happen a second time, she vowed. Heath might no longer want anything to do with her, but that meant they needed to negotiate the very things he seemed intent on neglecting.
Feeling sick to her stomach, she parked on the street next to the station. She immediately registered that all the trucks were sitting in the lot, or the garage behind it. On the one hand, she was relieved Heath wasn’t out on a job, so they would be able to talk. But, on the other hand, part of her would have preferred to put it off a little longer.
She locked the car with trembling fingers and then crossed the lot to get to the open garage, burying her hands in the pockets of her jeans.
The first person to cross her path was Sam, who was busy cleaning a truck. He gave her a warm, welcoming smile. “Hey! Look who’s found her way into our humble abode.”
“Hi, Sam.” He threw his dirty rag into a red bucket, and she let him hug her. Her smile was a bit forced. “You’re looking good.”
“Thank you, honey.” Before she could stop him, he bellowed out, “Line up, guys! Get ready for inspection, we have a visitor!”
Hayden cringed and shook her head, resigned. “I wish you’d kept your mouth shut.”
“We don’t see you here often enough,” Sam said, placing a heavy arm on her shoulder, steering her toward the crew room. Several of his colleagues were already sticking their heads out, greeting her affectionately.
“Well … you know why.”
The bald fireman sighed and whispered to her, “Your lieutenant is making a huge mistake, but he’ll realize that at some point.”
What was she supposed to say to that? Hayden was silent. Before long, the entire gang was welcoming her like a long-lost sister, which wasn’t too far from the truth. She knew the station inside and out, because she’d spent so much time here after her dad had been transferred to Boston when she was five. And when Heath had been assigned to this particular station, too, several years ago, she’d constantly been dropping by, bringing over cakes and cookies she made. She’d even spent quite some time in the rec room studying for her exams in her last semester of school, because the neighbors at her old place had been atrociously loud.
When Heath broke up with her, she’d ceased coming here. And it felt like losing a home.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Greg O’Sullivan, a man who had served on the same truck as her father, pulled her close and patted her back. “Are you alright, little lady?”
“Sure, I’m fine,” she replied airily, and then she saw over Greg’s shoulder that Heath had entered the crew room, too. He gave her a quizzical look, before setting his face in a frown and crossing his arms.
She quickly focused her attention on Greg again. He was still holding her in his arms, lost somewhere in an age-old story about his days with her dad, but then he abruptly changed the subject. “You’re coming to the family picnic next weekend, right? Are you bringing your fabulous pudding again?”
She cringed. She’d totally forgotten about the annual family picnic—or, rather, consciously repressed any thought of it. She couldn’t remember missing it once in all those years, but considering the current situation, it was probably better not to go this year.
She forced her eyes not to roam to where Heath was standing against the wall, looked at Greg, and gave an apologizing shrug. “I don’t think I should …”
“Of course you should! This year, we’re holding it in memory of Joe. That should be reason enough for you to be there.”
Hayden swallowed, all too aware of everyone’s eyes on her. She gave a curt nod, hoping to cut the discussion short. “Okay … okay, I’ll be there.”
“Atta girl.” Greg turned his head and nodded at his comrades, who took the hint and filed back out of the crew room, patting her arm and murmuring their goodbyes.
“See you again soon, Hayden.”
“Take care!”
“Bye-bye.”
Greg finally let go of her, too, kissed her on the cheek, and turned to Heath. “You behave yourself now, you hear me?”
She felt like rolling her eyes again, but she merely watched Greg maneuver his constantly growing beer belly through the door, leaving them alone. Silence descended, only interrupted by the sounds of the television from the rec room.
Hayden raised her eyes and looked at Heath, who stared right back at her but didn’t say a word. Contrary to their last meeting, he seemed neither bleary-eyed nor hungover, which made her sigh with relief. She’d been really concerned by the way he’d looked, but seeing him now in his fireman’s outfit, black work pants and a gray t-shirt with the department’s logo, he looked soothingly familiar again. His face was slightly stubbly, but that was normal, too, towards the end of a long shift. He had lost a little weight, which made his face seem more angular than usual, but that did nothing to diminish his attractiveness, she had to admit to herself. Her throat felt tight.
Heath had been a cute kid and a handsome teenager, and he’d grown into a man who made her knees weak every time she looked at him. He was tall, the muscles underneath his t-shirt were hard to overlook, and his thick, dark brown hair felt unbelievably soft when she used to grab it. He could look at her in a way that made her feel she would shatter if he didn’t touch her right then.
She felt uncomfortable under this onslaught of unwanted sensations. “Hey, Heath. You got a minute?”
He nodded and pushed himself away from the wall. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But we need to talk about the house, and the car.”
“Why?”
She sighed. “I get it. You really want this separation, but that means there are a few things we need to discuss.”
Looking into his eyes, she hoped with all her heart that he would object to the part about wanting their separation. But he remained silent and seemed utterly impassive.
Hayden took a deep breath and fought the tremor in her voice. “We need to decide what to do with the house and the car. And then there’s the joint account that’s in both of our names, and we have to pay off the personal loan we took out nearly two years ago.”
“But I already said you should stay in the house. And keep the car—”
“I can’t,” she interrupted him. “You can’t just give the house and the car to me, Heath. That wouldn’t be right.”
“Hayden,” he pleaded quietly. “I broke up with you. You should go on living in the house.”
She shook her head resolutely and then stopped herself as she realized she was about to take a step toward him.
“I’m not going to move into that house again,” he said with finality.
“Fine,” she replied firmly. “But I’m not going to stay there under these circumstances. I guess that means we’ll have to sell it.”
His hands dropped to his sides, and he gave her a stunned look. “Hayden, I remodeled that house for you—”
“Wrong,” she croaked. “You did it for us. If you don’t want to move in, we have no choice but to sell it, because I am definitely not going to stay there.”
She could see how unhappy he was with her words, because he jutted his chin out—the unmistakable sign that a Fitzpatrick was angry. But she knew how to deal with that.
“I did not spend two years working my ass off to make that house a home—each and every weekend, every day off—only for you to move into some dumpy apartment now, Hayden.”
Her laugh sounded dry
and shrill. “You just said it, Heath. You put so much work into it, so you should be the one to live in the house, instead of your own dumpy apartment.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “What about the car?”
“What about it?” Heath shrugged impassively. “I don’t need it.”
“Neither do I,” she shot back sharply. There was no way around it. She had to point out the obvious. “We bought it because we wanted to have children. What am I supposed to do with a family van if I do not have a family?”
The corners of his mouth curved downward, and he rubbed his face as if he was tired of this argument, which made her press her lips together angrily.
“Listen, Hayden. I’m perfectly content with my apartment and my old car. So let’s just leave things as they are.”
She wet her lips, not trusting her ability to speak without trembling, and stood straighter. “If you want to go through with this separation, we’re going to have to settle these things. I don’t want to stay in our house; you don’t want to move into it. That means we have to sell it. If you don’t want to bother, I’ll get a realtor to do it. It shouldn’t be hard to get a good price on the car, either. Which leaves us with what to do about the account and the loan.”
“I’ll pay off the loan.”
She frowned, half annoyed and half puzzled. A fellow teacher at her school had gone through a divorce two years ago. She remembered how the woman had fought over each piece of furniture and every single cent. But this was the opposite. Heath didn’t want to keep anything and was obviously bent on bearing all the expenses.
“That’s out of the question,” Hayden said. “We took that loan out for remodeling costs as well as for my tuition. I’m going to pay it off.”
He, too, straightened at that, and she couldn’t help staring up at him, her glance snagging his green eyes, which seemed to bore into hers.
“The installments are deducted from my account, so you don’t get a say in that, Hayden.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do here.” Her hands slipped from her pockets. “Are you trying to confuse me even more?”
“I only want to see that you’re provided for.”
A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. “It’s a little late to be concerned about me. And I’m well able to provide for myself, thank you.”
He sighed and cocked his head to the side. “I’m just trying to make sure this breakup doesn’t mess up your life.”
Dumbfounded, she stared into his eyes, hardly able to believe her ears. She no longer cared that her voice was trembling as she said, “Joe is dead, my fiancé dumped me suddenly one day, and the whole family is disintegrating, yet you have the guts to stand there and say you don’t want this to mess up my life? Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“Then sell the house, for heaven’s sake!” Heath threw his hands in the air. “If you’re so keen on losing your home—”
“No, I’m not,” she spat, barely able to contain her anger. “I don’t want to sell the house, but what else am I supposed to do when you’re being this inconsiderate?”
“Inconsiderate? I just told you to keep everything!”
Hayden felt like kicking him. “You want to break up, fine, but then you need to accept that we break up our assets and debts, as well. How could you think I’d want to live in that house now that it’s all over between us?”
“But …”
She scowled at him. “I’m not going to argue about this anymore.”
Heath was silent as he stared at her. After a while, he said, “Do whatever you want, Hayden. It’s not important to me anymore.” His voice was devoid of emotion.
When he turned and walked toward the locker room, she called after him angrily, “And come pick up your stuff, or I’ll throw it in the trash!”
Chapter 4
Heath dropped his hand into the peanut bowl, let his eyes wander over the TV screen above his head, and then reached for his beer, taking a large sip. The sounds of the other patrons mingled in his ears, barely drowning out the yells and whoops of a bunch of college students who were playing pool in the other room, and who were obviously having a great time.
He had just finished a twenty-four-hour shift and felt so knocked out that he could have fallen asleep right here on the pub floor, which was sticky from spilled beer and who knew what else. He hadn’t gone home to his dump, because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to think about anything but his encounter with Hayden. That’s why he’d come to the pub, where he was now on his third beer. Heath knew full well that he cut a miserable figure, getting drunk on a regular basis and avoiding the company of friends and family, the people who loved him most. He was living like a hermit, staying in his den, going to work, taking over long shifts, and only venturing out to the pub to get drunk. He would sit at the bar in silence, thwarting anyone’s attempt at conversation, and leave as soon as he felt drunk enough to find sleep. On the days he felt really depressed, he didn’t even stop by here, but drove straight home to get drunk there, alone.
The only exception had been two days ago, when he’d visited his mom, after Ryan’s prodding. His conversation with his mom had been anything but uplifting, because he felt everything she did and said was covertly rebuking him for breaking up with Hayden.
Why did everyone feel to the need to tell him he was making a mistake? He knew that full well. He wasn’t an idiot, and he didn’t want to lose her, but he felt that a wreck of a man such as himself shouldn’t be clinging to a woman like her—he’d only drag her down with him. Hayden deserved better than a guy who was too chicken to even make an appointment with a psychologist. How could he take care of a wife, and maybe kids at some point, if he couldn’t even get his own life back on track?
He couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible if her life took a similar turn for the worse like his had already done. That’s why he’d broken up with her. It hurt him to see how unhappy it made her, but he was sure she would move past him, given a little time.
It was definitely better for her to suffer a broken heart now than to go through worse in a few years’ time.
He tried to comfort himself with that thought, but whenever he woke up in his empty bed and missed her presence at his side, he felt as if an invisible force was slowly choking him.
He was staring at his half-empty glass when someone slapped his shoulder. He glanced to the side and sent a silent prayer heavenward. Or was it a curse? As if his day hadn’t been bad enough, the almighty God had to send his sister to torture him. Without a moment’s hesitation, she sat down on the bar stool beside him.
“Hey,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s a dumb question,” he muttered into his glass, signaling to the red-headed barman that he wanted to close his tab. He slid his hand into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, but Kayleigh placed a hand on his arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I was just about to head home …”
His sister jutted her chin forward, and the eyes that glared at him were identical to the ones he saw each morning in the mirror. “I need to have a word with you, big brother.”
“Get in line,” he muttered. Then, with a sigh, he turned to calmly face her halfway; he knew she could deal a mean right hook. He should have gotten up and left immediately, because he was certain she wanted to talk about Hayden, but he’d never been able to refuse his sister anything. Too many times, he and Shane had protected her, the way big brothers do. They’d beaten up boys who had teased her on the playground, who had hit on her when she was a teenager. He couldn’t just ignore her now. No matter how much she might insist she could pick her own battles—and several pushy suitors could testify to her effectiveness, having walked away with a black eye—she would always remain his little sister. Sometimes he felt like cursing his parents for teaching their sons to take care of their sister.
“Why is Hayden
no longer wearing your ring?”
He flinched inwardly, and clamped his teeth together so Kayleigh wouldn’t notice how that had shocked him. He hadn’t even been paying attention at the station, so he didn’t know whether Hayden was still wearing the ring he’d given her. He’d discovered it and bought it for her in a tiny jewelry shop after looking for the perfect one for weeks. Buying the house and paying for the remodeling material had devoured every last cent of his savings, so he’d pawned his motorcycle to buy her the pretty diamond ring. The thought that she might not be wearing it anymore made his throat burn.
He remained outwardly calm, however, and shrugged indifferently. “She can do whatever she wants.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if she met another man?”
The day he got wind of that, he’d probably drink himself into a stupor, but he didn’t tell his sister that. Instead, he said tersely, “Why should I?”
“But—”
“Listen, Kayleigh, I was the one who broke up with Hayden, so she can do what she wants. It’s none of my business anymore.”
She blinked incredulously, and Heath couldn’t blame her. He was usually an incredibly jealous person, so his attitude was bound to utterly confuse her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your brain all of a sudden, but if I were you, I’d get it fixed as soon as possible.”
“Kayleigh, shut up,” he growled.
“No, I won’t. I always thought you’d go berserk at the thought of another man hitting on Hayden, and now you’re not even mildly concerned about it?”
“Isn’t that the purpose of breaking up? You don’t have anything to do with each other anymore.” He grabbed his beer glass and emptied it in one large gulp.
“God, you are such an asshole,” she replied coldly. “Hayden is part of the family! You’ve been together forever.”
“But we aren’t anymore,” he insisted, his voice harsh and grating even to his own ears. He hoped that was enough to make her stop going on about his broken relationship. It wasn’t just the topic itself that was getting to him; it was also the sheer disgust in his sister’s eyes when she looked at him.
The Heat Is On (Boston Five Book 1) Page 5