Heat Exchange

by Shannon Stacey

  So much for leaving her brother on the back burner. He supposed it was natural, since they were all tied together so closely, but he wanted it to be just him and Lydia this weekend.

  She finally gave him the heads-up that they’d be getting off at the next exit and he moved out of the fast lane. A few turns, stoplights and stop signs later, she told him to turn into a small lot beside a huge square, brick building and to park in one of the two spaces marked for unit three.

  “Nice building,” he said as he killed the ignition. “It looks old.”

  “It is, but it was rehabbed inside about ten years ago, so it’s not too shabby.”

  He slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder and grabbed her duffel before locking up his truck and following her inside. The apartment she shared with Shelly was half of the second floor, and he couldn’t help being curious as she unlocked the door to let them in.

  He’d seen her at the bar and at Scotty’s and her dad’s. He hadn’t seen Lydia at Ashley’s place, but he’d been there a few times because of Danny and could picture her there. And, obviously, he’d seen her at his place, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing the inside of the house she’d shared with Todd. He’d waited in the vehicle a few times when Scotty stopped by for something quick, but had never gone inside.

  So, even though she shared the apartment with a roommate, this would be the first time he got to see a space Lydia had made for herself.

  “Everything you see pretty much belongs to Shelly,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “She’s been here for years, but I’m her third roommate. So we split the rent, but it’s mostly her place, if you know what I mean.”

  It was neat, without a lot of clutter. The furniture was on the feminine side, covered in floral fabrics, and there were lace doilies under the lamps. But there were some cool art prints on the walls, and he looked at them while she said hello to a tortoiseshell cat that sauntered out of a bedroom to see what they were up to.

  “I have to text Shelly a selfie of Oscar and me, so she knows I’m here. She had to leave by noon to get to the airport and she was a nervous wreck about leaving before I got here.”

  Aidan snorted. “Should I go buy a newspaper so you can make sure the date shows in the photo, like a proof of life?”

  “She didn’t mention that, but probably only because she didn’t think of it.” He watched her pick up the cat and carry it to the couch. “We actually get along really well—me and Shelly, I mean—which is nice. She has a lot of anxiety about her cat, but I can live with that. Right, Oscar?”

  Once she’d texted a photo of her and the cat to her roommate and had a brief text conversation, Lydia grabbed her bag. “Come on and I’ll show you my room.”

  Unlike the rest of the apartment, her bedroom showed a little bit of Lydia’s personality. There were no floral fabrics or doilies in this room, but there were some family photos framed on the bureau and a Red Sox throw blanket tossed over a plain wooden chair in the corner. The bedding was a light blue, with darker blue throw pillows. Instead of art, there were sports posters hung on her walls, and when he peeked into the bathroom, he saw a lot of hair stuff and almost no makeup. Definitely Lydia’s bathroom.

  “This is it,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Welcome to my very humble abode.”

  “I like it,” he said, sitting next to her. He bounced a little on the mattress and then nudged her with his elbow. “Doesn’t squeak. I like that in a bed.”

  “I like you in a bed,” she said, nudging him back, and that was all the invitation he needed to make himself at home.

  * * *

  LYDIA STRETCHED, THEN froze when her leg kicked something hard. Aidan’s shin, she realized when she opened her eyes. They were in Concord, far away from prying eyes and gossip, and she had the entire day—and Aidan—all to herself.

  “Ow.”

  “Good morning,” she said, rolling to face him. “What do you want to do today?”

  He blinked because she’d forgotten to close the blinds last night and the sun burned through the thin, decorative curtains. “I’d say spend the day in bed with you, but these sheets are really abrasive.”

  She laughed and tried to hit him in the shoulder, but he caught her hand and kissed her knuckles instead. “You’re a sheet snob.”

  “Blame my mother. And this is your weekend. What do you want to do? Does it have to be something the cat can do with us?”

  “No, Oscar won’t be joining us.”

  “Are you sure? I feel kind of bad we locked the poor guy out of the bedroom last night.”

  “You would have felt worse if we’d let him in and he’d buried his claws in some soft, vulnerable part of your body.” He winced. “And yes, I once had to hide in here and try not to laugh at a guest of Shelly’s swearing while she put first aid cream on the gouges Oscar left on his right ass cheek.”

  “Ouch. That’s worse than scratchy sheets.”

  “Keep it up and you can sleep with Oscar tonight.” She sighed and snuggled closer to his chest. He threw his arm over her and kissed her hair. “I want to go out today. I don’t even care where. I want to walk around holding your hand and you can kiss me in public and then we can go to a restaurant and have a nice dinner together.”

  “Sounds like a perfect day.”

  After they’d showered and made sure Oscar had enough food, water and affection to last him a few hours, they went to Lydia’s favorite breakfast restaurant. It was too far to walk, so she gave him a mini tour of the city after they’d eaten.

  “And that’s the restaurant I worked at until Ashley called me and asked me to help her out,” she said, pointing to the building that was probably meant to look elegant, but looked stuffy and overblown to her.

  “Do you miss it?”

  She laughed. “Not even for a second. I hated that job.”

  “Why didn’t you get a different one?”

  “The money was good.” She shrugged. “I hated it and I found out I’m not very good at serving fancy dinners or being formal with those kinds of diners, but when the check is high, the tip is, too.”

  “Were you saving for something?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “To be worth being unhappy at work, it seems like you must have had a goal. Something you wanted to do or buy.”

  “Not really. I guess I would have liked to get my own apartment at some point but, like I said, Shelly and I get along really well. And my car runs fine. I thought about doing some college courses, but there’s nothing I really want to do that’s worth the money, time and work. I like what I do, just not where I was doing it.”

  “How does it feel being back at Kincaid’s?”

  She sighed, looking out the window. “That’s a tough question. I’ve always loved working there. I just haven’t always loved working for my dad and being surrounded by...everybody we know.”

  “Like firefighters,” he said, but he turned his head to give her a quick grin as he said it.

  “Yeah. I don’t know anybody here. I’m nobody’s daughter or sister or ex-wife.”

  “Speaking of which,” he said, yanking the truck into an open parking space. “There are all kinds of neat shops on this street and I’m tired of driving around. Let’s walk for a little while.”

  They spent several hours walking down one side of the street and up the other, ducking into any of the shops that interested them. She bought a couple of books, and a few storefronts later, she had to talk him out of spending way too much money on a cool guitar he didn’t know how to play. They walked hand in hand, enjoying the sunshine and the lazy nature of not having anywhere to be.

  “I can see why you like it here,” he said after a while. “Plenty to see and do, but there’s a little more room to breathe.”

  “It’s nice. It’s
different, but not too different.”

  “So you’re going to come back here, then? When Ashley’s ready to take over the bar again.”

  Lydia didn’t stop walking, but something froze inside of her. “That’s the plan. This is where I live now, which you know since you slept in my bed with the crappy sheets last night.”

  He chuckled at her joke, but it sounded forced to her. “I didn’t know if things had changed. You quit your job, so the only thing actually tying you here is a bedroom. And you told me you like working at the bar.”

  She’d also told him there were things she didn’t like about working at Kincaid’s, and he knew how she felt about the community as a whole. They might be family, but she wanted out of the goldfish bowl. “There are bars in Concord. There’s actually a sports bar in walking distance I might check out when Ashley’s ready to go back to work.”

  He nodded, but fell silent for a few minutes. It was an awkward silence, but Lydia wasn’t sure how to fill it. As dismaying as the thought was, maybe this weekend getaway had been a bad idea because she couldn’t have it both ways. She’d wanted to spend some time alone with Aidan, but the more they did things like a real couple, the harder it was to remember they actually weren’t.

  “Hey.” Aidan squeezed her hand and she looked up to see him smiling at her. “Stop overthinking things and enjoy the day. Is there some place on this street we can get some ice cream before we go check on Oscar?”

  A dish of black raspberry drowning in whipped cream and jimmies went a long way toward saving the weekend. And when Aidan let her have a lick of his soft-serve twist and then kissed her with a sweet, sticky mouth, Lydia decided to stop worrying about tomorrow and just enjoy the hell out of today.

  Chapter Fourteen

  AIDAN WAS STRETCHED out on the floral couch, having a stare-down with the cat perched on his chest like a Sphinx. Oscar was purring so hard they were both vibrating. “I can’t decide if this cat really likes me or if he’s trying to keep me pinned down so I can’t do anything nefarious.”

  “It’s probably some kind of subliminal mind control,” Lydia told him. “Cats are like that.”

  “You gave him food and water, and now you’re scooping his shit out of his box so it’s all fresh and clean. What else could he possibly need?”

  “To rule the world. Obviously you haven’t spent a lot of time around cats.”

  “My sister’s allergic to them and I’ve always been a little afraid of them. I dated a girl in high school—do you remember Nicole, uh...do you remember Nicole’s last name?”

  She laughed. “No, I don’t remember your high school girlfriend or her last name. I was probably too busy doing adult things since I was already an adult and didn’t have time for you and Scotty’s little-boy doings.”

  “Funny. Four years, Lydia. It’s not like you were my babysitter or anything. Although that could have been hot.”

  “You’re digressing,” she said, and he heard the kitchen faucet run as she washed her hands.

  “Anyway, this girl Nicole had a cat and I remember they were always complaining because it would try to trip them on the stairs. Who keeps pets that want you dead?”

  Before she could answer, his phone chimed and he stretched his arm out to pick it up off the coffee table. Oscar refused to move and just continued to stare intently at him and vibrate.

  How’s it going?

  It was Scotty, and Aidan sat up, using his hand to gently nudge Oscar down so he didn’t try to hold on by way of sheer cat will and very sharp claws.

  Ok. What’s up?

  Bored. Need a hand?

  He sighed and thought back to the lie he’d told the guys to get this time off with Lydia. He was helping his mom replace and fix a few things around the house because the other Hunt men weren’t as handy as they were cheap.

  Probably not. It’s one-guy stuff and I think she just wants to visit with me while Dad’s on biz trip.

  It was one more believable lie, made possible by the fact Scotty knew how screwed up the Hunt family dynamics were.

  Don’t you have family dinner tomorrow night?

  Oops. There was that small detail.

  He’ll be back for that.

  That’s too bad. Probably more fun without him. I’ll see you Monday morning, then.

  Aidan set the phone back on the table with a sigh. He was getting better at lying, which was a skill he’d never wanted to improve on.

  “I’m guessing that was my brother,” Lydia said, and he looked up to see her leaning against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed.

  “How did you know?”

  “Because you look like you’re beating yourself up about something and it seems to me the most likely reason is that you had to lie to Scott.”

  He really didn’t want to put a damper on this weekend. “Yeah, it was him. He’s bored and wanted to know if I needed a hand at my mom’s house.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing he didn’t just show up there.”

  Aidan shook his head. “He’s only met my parents a few times, at ceremonies and stuff, and they’ve never been particularly warm to him. We always hung out at Tommy’s and never at my parents’.”

  But it did go to show there were so many ways they could get tripped up when it came to lying and hiding their relationship from the people who knew them better than anybody else.

  “I’d rather talk about Nicole-from-high-school more than my brother right now,” she said.

  He stood up, brushing cat hair off the front of his shirt. The stuff was everywhere and the more he tried to brush it off, the more it seemed to multiply. “I’d rather take you out for a nice dinner somewhere than talk about either of them.”

  When Lydia grinned and shoved away from the counter, Aidan felt his spirits rally. “Yeah, you’re the one who told me to stop overthinking things and just enjoy this day.”

  “Yes, I did. So let’s go enjoy the hell out of it.”

  They decided they didn’t want to go anywhere too nice, because they were both comfortable in their jeans, though they traded the T-shirts for nicer shirts with buttons. While she brushed her hair and put on a little makeup, he sat on the edge of the bed and used his phone to pull up possibilities.

  “Pasta,” he said. “I could go for pasta.”

  “Carbs. Yay.” He laughed and looked at her. Since she was facing away from him, he had a perfect view of her ass and legs, which he thought were perfect the way they were. And, since she was looking in a mirror, she saw him looking and rolled her eyes. “I could do pasta, but you have to help me work it off later.”

  He met her gaze in the mirror and his blood rushed from his brain to his dick. “Maybe you should have seconds, too.”

  “You keep looking at me like that and you’ll be lucky if I let you out of bed long enough to make a sandwich.”

  As threats went, it wasn’t a very strong one. He thought about it for a minute because it was tempting as hell to drag her into bed right that very second and stay there. But having her in bed wasn’t something he lacked, although at times he wished he could have her there all night and every night. But taking her out for dinner in a public restaurant was a pleasure he hadn’t experienced yet.

  “I’ve been waiting for days to take you out on a date,” he said. “You’re not talking me out of it now.”

  “A date, huh?” She flipped the bathroom light off as she walked toward him.

  “Yeah, I figure it’s probably about time we have a first date.”

  She laughed and offered her hand to help him up. Once he was on his feet, he kissed her, but didn’t allow himself to get lost in the moment. Date first, then they could revisit this moment.

  The restaurant they went to was a chain place, but they didn’t care. At least they knew the pasta would be goo
d. There was a wait, so they sat on the tailgate of his truck in the parking lot, holding hands. She swung her legs and they made small talk, watching people walk by, until their table was ready.

  An hour later, he knew he’d made the right choice in not sacrificing this date for sex and sandwiches. Lydia was relaxed, especially after a couple of glasses of wine, and free with her laughter. It was warm and deep, occasionally attracting the attention of nearby diners.

  She told him stories about the restaurant she’d worked at before returning to Boston, and he had to laugh, too, at some of her misfortunes in fine dining. He’d like to get in his truck, drive over there and hand the sous-chef a beating, but at least she wouldn’t be going back there.

  But she’d be coming back here, to Concord.

  He shoved the thought down as firmly as he could. When the subject had come up earlier, she’d seemed almost surprised that he would question whether or not she’d leave Boston again. Maybe, on some level, he’d started believing they were building something together and it would be enough for her.

  “Hey.” Lydia covered his hand with hers, frowning. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” He forced a quick laugh. “I was thinking about what a douche bag that sous-chef was.”

  “Yeah, he had his moments. Some of the regular customers might be a pain in the ass, but at least I don’t have to put up with that crap at Kincaid’s.”

  He just smiled at her in the dim lighting and kept his mouth shut. He knew her well enough to know if he pushed, she’d push back twice as hard. But if he kept quiet and just enjoyed one day at a time, she might just realize all on her own that Boston was where her heart was.

  * * *

  “I SHOULD NOT have had that dessert,” Lydia said, pushing her empty plate away with a groan.

  “I think it might take more stamina than I have to work this meal off,” Aidan agreed, rubbing his stomach.

  “You won’t have to expend a lot of energy getting me to take my jeans off.”