Heat Exchange

by Shannon Stacey

  Aidan was just going to have to suck it up and pretend his interest in the gorgeous bartender was the same as it had always been—she was his best friend’s sister and therefore a friend. They could chat. They could laugh. But he couldn’t kiss her up against the brick wall again.

  They’d ridden over to the rink in two vehicles, so they all threw their bags and sticks into the back of Scotty’s truck. Then they divided between that and Gullotti’s jacked-up Jeep for the ride to Kincaid’s, with Aidan automatically getting shotgun in the truck.

  “You feeling all right?” Scotty asked when they were almost there. Grant and Gavin, who were each the young guy in their companies, were chatting in the backseat.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I don’t know. Your game seemed off tonight, and you’re pretty quiet. Something going on?”

  Aidan swallowed past the lump in his throat and stared out the passenger window. Maybe if they’d been alone and not in a moving vehicle, he would have been honest. But it wasn’t the time. “Nope.”

  “You’re not going through some kind of midlife crisis or something, are you? I already told you, we’re not old enough for shit like that.”

  Aidan laughed. “No crisis, though I wouldn’t mind the Corvette that supposedly comes with it.”

  “Maybe a hot blonde in the passenger seat.”

  Or a hot brunette with a hotter temperament and dark eyes a man could lose himself in. “Maybe a rich, hot blonde whose daddy has Bruins season tickets. What the hell, let’s give him season tickets to the Patriots, too.”

  “Just in case we ever meet her, I’m calling dibs right now.”

  They were laughing when Scotty pulled the truck down the narrow alley that led to a small parking lot reserved for Kincaid’s employees and the upstairs tenants. Cutter parked on the street and they met up outside the door.

  The good feeling Aidan had managed to momentarily capture faded with every step he took toward the door. The night was going to be very different from how he’d spent a good part of the day imagining it and, instead of enjoying Lydia’s company, he was going to be doing everything possible to avoid it.

  The thrill Lydia felt when Aidan walked through the bar’s front door was short-lived. The look he gave her was nothing short of apologetic and she knew why when he stepped inside and Scotty, Danny, Grant Cutter, Gavin Boudreau—who was with Ladder 37, though she didn’t really know him—and Rick were right on his heels.

  They weren’t part of the plan. None of them were, but especially her brother.

  “Hey, guys,” she said when they all stepped up to the bar. “Did you all just randomly happen to arrive at the same time?”

  “We were playing some hockey,” Grant told her. “And then Danny said he was in the mood for a burger and a beer and then we were all in the mood for burgers and beer.”

  “You came to the right place, then,” she said, giving him her work smile. She actually liked the young guy well enough, but it wouldn’t be very professional to have her expression mirror what she was actually feeling on the inside.

  There were a lot of bars that served burgers in Boston. If Tommy hadn’t gone out of his way to turn Kincaid’s Pub into a second home for the local firefighters, she could be flirting with Aidan already.

  He didn’t look any happier about it than she did. He was down near the end of the bar, standing with her brother, and every time she looked at him, his gaze skittered away. The knowledge he was that worried about Scotty’s opinion of their relationship—or flirtation or whatever she should call it—was annoying.

  She took her order pad out of her apron pocket and slapped it on the bar, then pulled out a pen. “Okay, let’s have it.”

  Grant hadn’t been kidding about them all being in the mood for burgers and beer and, once they all had a drink, they disappeared into the pool room. A minute later, she heard the rattle of pool balls being cued up and male laughter. It caught the attention of three women sitting at one of the tables, and she wondered how long it would be before the men had company.

  Then she wondered which one of them would try to lay claim to Aidan and felt a surge of jealousy. If any one of them put a hand on him, all three of them would find themselves out on the sidewalk pretty damn quick.

  When the woman facing her met her stare and did a double take, as if the look on Lydia’s face had startled her, Lydia forced a smile and went to give the cook the burger orders.

  She had no claim on Aidan and he was free to do whatever—or whomever—he wanted. So they’d kissed once and exchanged a bunch of text messages. On the relationship scale it was a lot more teenage crush than grown-up monogamy, so she needed to watch the death looks she gave paying customers.

  As she waited for the burgers to be done, she leaned against the inside of the bar and watched a few minutes of the game. Or pretended to, anyway. If she listened hard enough, she could differentiate Aidan’s voice from those of the other men, and she liked hearing it. Text messages were quick and fun, but they weren’t the same as the in-person conversations she’d been looking forward to having tonight.

  When the cook rang the bell to let her know the order was up, Lydia pushed away from the bar and walked down to the pool room. “Somebody come grab a few plates.”

  Scotty and Rick were in the middle of a pool game, and the other guys were all seated at the tables, while Aidan leaned against the wall with his arms and ankles crossed.

  “I’ll help,” he said, walking around the pool table. “At the rate they’re going, this game won’t be over until midnight, anyway.”

  “It’s all about finesse,” Rick said. “Something you probably know nothing about.”

  “Hey, I can do finesse.”

  He followed her back behind the bar and down the short hallway that led past the restrooms before splitting off to the kitchen area and the office and storage rooms. Every once in a while somebody would frown over carrying food past the bathrooms, but it was an old building and the floor plan predated them by a very long time.

  Before they entered the kitchen, Aidan put his hand on her elbow to stop her. “Hey. Hold up a second.”

  “What’s up?”

  He chuckled, then cast a glance back the way they’d come. “I’ve been waiting all day to see you. I couldn’t believe it when Danny suggested a trip to Kincaid’s.”

  “I was a little surprised to see everybody. I was looking forward to seeing you, but I should have guessed they’d all be with you. If anybody can wreck somebody’s plans, it’s a group of firefighters.”

  He gave her a mock frown and shook his head. “This isn’t a firefighter thing. It’s just a group of guys with really shitty timing.”

  The bell rang several times, and Lydia knew she had maybe a minute before a very pissed-off cook came around that corner to deliver the food himself. “I was kidding. It’s fine.”

  “Not really.” The bell rang one more time and Lydia took a step toward the kitchen. He didn’t let go of her elbow, but pulled her back so he could kiss her. It was fast and hard and over way too soon, but it left her breathless nonetheless.

  “We should get those burgers now,” he said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  She went into the kitchen and, after giving an apology to the cook, put four plates on the big tray. Leaving Aidan to carry the other two plates, she made her way back to the pool room and handed them out.

  “Thanks for the hand,” she said to Aidan, and then she left them to their meals. Definitely not the evening she’d envisioned.

  The women from the table paid and left without even making an attempt to flirt with the guys, which was a relief. Over the next hour, a few other firefighters wandered in and joined the group playing pool. She popped in a few times to bring refills and clear the plates away, noticing that Aidan managed to be busy every time sh
e was in the room.

  It looked like one quick, sneaky kiss was all she was going to get.

  She heard a burst of laughter again and looked over in time to see Aidan leave the pool room. He was laughing and took the time to flip off somebody by the pool table, and then he was walking toward her. She watched him scan the barroom and take note of the fact she was just standing there doing nothing, and he tilted his head toward the hallway.

  Okay, so it looked like she’d get two quick, sneaky kisses.

  But he kept on walking, right past the kitchen and into the storage room, flipping on the light switch. Her pulse quickened, but as soon as she stepped inside and he closed the door, she held up her hand. “I am not making out with you in the storage closet. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m running a business.”

  “Two minutes. I told them I had to take a leak, and customers will assume you’re in the kitchen and they’ll wait two minutes.”

  “You put a lot of thought into being locked in a closet with me for two minutes.”

  “Talking wastes time.” He tucked his finger in the front of her jeans and yanked her close.

  There was nothing quick or sneaky about this kiss. It was hard and demanding, and she wrapped her arms around his neck so he couldn’t break it off. Not that he seemed to want to. His tongue dipped between her lips and she surrendered to his mouth.

  When his right hand slid over her ribs and cupped her breast, she sighed against his mouth and struggled to keep their location in the front of her mind. Her desire for him kept trying to overwhelm that important fact, but getting caught kissing anybody in the storage closet would be embarrassing. Getting caught kissing Aidan would be so much worse.

  Then his hand slid back to her waistband and she clenched her abs. He wouldn’t dare...

  He dared.

  The button on her jeans popped and she hissed against his mouth. The zipper was harder for him one-handed, but he managed. All the while his mouth was on hers, and she couldn’t even think straight. All that mattered was the feel of his lips and the hand he slid down between her stomach and the soft cotton of her underwear.

  “Aidan?” she whispered against his mouth.

  “About a minute and a half left. I need to feel you, Lydia.”

  Then his fingertips slid over her clit and she sucked in a breath. His teeth caught her bottom lip and she moaned, shocked by the intensity of her reaction to his touch. She knew it had been a long time, but she was already teetering on the brink. He slid a finger into her and she scraped her fingernails down his back, wanting more.

  The heel of his hand pressed against her clit as he buried two fingers deep inside of her. She broke off the kiss, burying her face against his shoulder.

  “You have to be quiet,” he whispered against her ear. “You are so fucking hot, Lydia.”

  The orgasm hit quickly and she pressed her mouth to his shirt, willing herself to be silent as it shook her body. He nipped at her earlobe, chuckling softly when she lifted her face to take a deep, shuddering breath.

  “That’s what I wanted,” he said, and then he kissed her again while pulling his hand free from her pants.

  “You sure know how to make the most of two minutes.”

  “I think we still have a few seconds left. Or we can shove all this crap in front of the door and do it again.”

  “I’m not having sex with you in here. It doesn’t seem fair, though.”

  “All part of my master plan to make sure you owe me a blow job.”

  “Brilliant plan.” She dropped her forehead to his shoulder, still recovering.

  “I got what I wanted for tonight.”

  “I can’t believe it happened that fast,” she said with a tremulous laugh.

  “It’s all that finesse I have.”

  She wasn’t sure what it was, but it scared the hell out of her. If him touching her made her feel like that, what would actual sex be like? Explosive. Intense. Too much. She needed distance. “I guess so. I mean, you’re not even my type.”

  “I was your type a few seconds ago,” he reminded her.

  “You’re a firefighter, for chrissake. I can’t...definitely not my type.” She lifted her head and moved out of his arms.

  “Don’t lump us all together.”

  The light, teasing tone was gone, but it wasn’t enough distance. She needed more space to figure out what was going on. “You’re pretty much all the same. Reckless kids at heart, but with God complexes thrown in.”

  In the space of a heartbeat, his face completely changed. Gone was the easy, sexy charm, leaving behind hard lines and a jaw that looked as if it had been carved from stone.

  He put his hands up in a see, not touching gesture and then took a step backward. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not your type.”

  “Aidan, I didn’t mean...I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

  “Sometimes I forget how you really feel about firefighters. All you did was remind me.” He opened the door a crack and looked out into the hall. “I should get back before they send out a search party.”

  He was gone before she could say anything else, and she slumped against the wall, the post-orgasm glow definitely extinguished. What a bitchy thing to say just because she got scared of how badly she wanted him.

  She heard the squeal of the men’s room door and the water running in the sink. Then, a couple of minutes later, the squeal again and she caught a glimpse of him as he walked down the hall back to the barroom.

  Resting her head against the wall, she tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, but it looked like she’d solved the problem of what to do about Aidan Hunt.

  Chapter Eight

  THERE WAS NOTHING like a woman panicking, forgetting everything she knew about grease fires and managing to turn cooking bacon into an all-hands fire to start a guy’s day off right.

  Aidan jammed the Halligan tool into the wall and used the hook to rip it open. Smoke filtered through with the ancient dust and plaster, and he sighed into his mask. This sucker was never going to be fully extinguished. The only good thing about it was the fact it was a single-family and, as soon as the homeowner realized the fire in the pan was now a real fire in her kitchen, she’d grabbed her kid and the dog and run like hell. Her insurance company was going to be pissed, but being able to focus all their attention on the fire and not searching under beds for people meant the structure might not be a total loss. Assuming the practically antique building materials ever stopped smoldering.

  Once they were cleared, Aidan set his self-contained breathing apparatus, helmet and coat on the ground and accepted a water bottle from Walsh. The weather should be starting to turn cooler, but instead it was looking like another scorcher and it was hot as hell in the SCBA.

  “I’m glad I’m not the one who has to call her husband at work,” Scotty said, taking a seat on the engine’s bumper next to him.

  “Yeah.”

  “At least it didn’t get the garage. You see the Harley the guy’s got in there? What year do you think it was?”

  Aidan screwed the lid back on the empty water bottle. “A Panhead. Probably a ’56, but since it didn’t have a sign on it and I’m not a walking motorcycle encyclopedia, I don’t know for sure.”

  In his peripheral vision, he saw Scott turn to frown at him. “What the hell’s wrong with you today? And don’t give me any just tired shit. You’re the relaxed, happy guy. I’m the guy wound tighter than an eight-day clock. That’s how it’s supposed to work and you’re screwing up the vibe today.”

  What was wrong with him? What was wrong was that he’d given Lydia a pretty decent orgasm, judging by how it looked from his side of the equation, and in return she’d given him a verbal shot to the balls.

  “My old m
an called me at the crack of dawn this morning,” Aidan lied. “You know how that goes.”

  Scotty took a swig of water and shook his head. “I keep telling you to send his calls to voice mail.”

  “Then I worry something happened and I listen to it right away, anyway. And then I have to call him. It’s easier to take the call.”

  “What did he want this time?”

  “Same shit,” Aidan said, trying not to dig himself into the untruth hole. He sucked at lying and his best friend would probably know any of his more obvious tells. “Different day.”

  As pissed as he was at Lydia, he was never going to repeat what she’d said. She’d insulted him on purpose because she was running out of willpower and wanted him to do the walking away. In the process of making that happen, she’d not only insulted pretty much everything and everybody he loved, but everybody she loved, too.

  So, yeah, he might have a hair across his ass at the moment where Lydia was concerned, but he wasn’t going to put her in a bad spot with her brother or the old man. Tommy would probably just give her some shit and get over it, but it was the kind of thing that would set Scott off and he’d been known to hold some ridiculous grudges over the years. Kicking off a Kincaid family feud because she’d said something stupid Aidan knew she didn’t mean just to get him to back off wasn’t his style.

  He also didn’t want to have to explain the circumstances behind her saying what she’d said. Well, I had my hand down her pants and...

  So he’d just lied to his best friend and it was a straight-up lie this time, not one of omission. His stomach ached and his head hurt, and he bent forward to prop his elbows on his knees and drop his head onto his hands.

  When Scotty clapped a hand to his shoulder, it just made him feel worse. “We should go out. Not to Dad’s bar, either. We need to find a club with loud music and hot women wearing short dresses and high heels.”