“You think I’m deaf or stupid, Abigail Josephine Sullivan!”
“Christ on a hunk of soda bread,” I mutter as my aunt blows into the kitchen like an Atlantic wave crashing against the Cliffs of Moher.
“Oh, you’ll have to whisper lower than that to get away with that kind of language.” My aunt opens the oven, eyes the roast, and closes it again. The boys inhale happily. I pour another glass of wine, suspecting I’m going to need it.
“So you met someone. Finally. And he’s a firefighter like your father.”
Like my mother. That’s the problem, isn’t it?
I take a bite of Sam’s roll and chew while I think of a response. “He’s my shift lieutenant, or he was. And I’m not in the market for dating firefighters.”
“That’s what your mother said. Look what happened there.” In case I don’t cotton on, she points. “You! That’s what happened.”
“I heard Rossi’s pretty cranky while he’s home on medical leave,” Jude says, apropos of nothing.
“How do you know?”
Jude takes a long swig of his beer before answering. I want to kill him.
“Chiara said. That’s his sister,” he explains for the others.
“Since when have you been talking to Roman’s sister?”
“She asked me to be involved with this program for the LGBTQ teens she works with. And when we met at the diner the other day to chat about it, she mentioned her brother’s mood. ‘Emo grunting’ was the term she used, which sounds kind of hot, actually.”
It does sound hot. “He’s recovering from his injuries. Of course he’s going to be in a mood.”
Another look between the boys, another urge to murder. “Stop talking about me when I’m right here!”
“She likes him,” Sam says to Jude.
“I think it’s more than like. I think she lurves him! Abby and Roman sitting in a tree, hiding from a boar named Beh-het-sey …”
I throw half a bread roll at him. “That doesn’t even rhyme right, you idiot.”
“No throwing of my bread!” My aunt is back on the CFD intranet using Johno’s login and the iPad I gave her at Christmas for evil. “Abigail, are you telling me you had this fine young man in your sights and you let him get away?”
“It’s not as simple as that. It was just a fling. That’s all! Lots of great sex.” I make a face at Jude and Sam. “Are you happy now that you’ve made me talk about sex in front of my poor innocent aunt?”
“More like scandalized,” Sam says. “Kat, did you hear she dumped him while he was lying in a hospital bed with cracked ribs, a broken wrist, and a brain injury, all of which she caused?”
“Practically in a coma,” Jude adds. “Talk about kicking a guy when he’s down.”
Tears well, and I turn away, opening the fridge to cover for my emotion. I know they’re kidding, the big brothers I never had, but it’s a little too close to the bone.
Someone squeezes my arm and lays a chin on my shoulder. It’s Sam.
“Sorry, Abs. We’re jerks.”
Jude circles me from the other side. “Yeah, Sam’s a total dick. Want me to punch him for you?”
“Yep.” I sniff. “No.”
“Out of my kitchen, all of you!” As we turn to troop out, my aunt points at me. “You stay.”
Jude and Sam send me faux-apologetic glances before leaving me alone with Kathleen.
“So what happened and how much is your father to blame?”
“He’s not—it’s not his fault.” Sure, he makes me doubt my abilities every day but I can’t blame him for Roman. That’s all on me. “I just made a clean break with the guy I shouldn’t have been with in the first place.”
“Because he’s your boss?”
“Sort of.”
She folds her arms and leans against the counter. “Explain it to me like I’m a child.”
“We can’t be on the same shift, so I’m switching with Jude. When Roman—Lieutenant Rossi—comes back from leave—” and when my suspension is lifted “—I’ll be in a different platoon. It’ll make things easier.”
“So what’s the problem? Now you can see him, right?”
I open up the flatware drawer and remove knives and forks for dinner. “I lost my necklace, the one that belonged to Mom. I think I must have dropped it at the fire.” I’m not usually superstitious, but it seems like a sign, telling me I edged too close to the sun with Roman.
She studies me for a long beat. “I worried about her every day she was on duty. Every day she wasn’t. She was always getting into trouble, accidents, even arguments with strangers in parking lots. If she saw something she didn’t think was fair or right, she let you know about it.”
He told me he loved me. Then he called me a coward.
He was right.
“I’m technically following in her footsteps, but I’m not as brave as she was. I don’t know how to be.”
She pulls me into a hug, patting me on the back, and sending me back to those early days after my mom died when I was a mess. I inhale her comforting scent and try to draw some strength from it.
“Yes, you do. You’re Jo Sullivan’s girl, and that means you have her blood pumping in your veins and her heart beating in your chest. She would be so proud of you. Just ask yourself what she would do, and you’ll have your answer.”
Thirty-eight
Roman
It’s been a week and I’m still on medical leave, which suits me fine because I don’t think I could face the rest of my crew and their sad-eyes over the whole Abby fiasco.
I’m still not sure what happened.
I understood the words coming out of her mouth, but it was like they were arranged in a puzzle I couldn’t solve. Or maybe I don’t want to dwell too long on what she was really trying to tell me.
I’m not the kind of guy you commit to for the long haul.
I can see that. My ex never bought into the whole notion of a deep connection with me. Forced into marriage by an unplanned pregnancy, she resented having to see me in any other light than her first impression of me: a guy who could show her the goods between the sheets. Seems Abby saw nothing more than that, either.
At least my sweet Cherry Pie added the gloss of potential—if she let what we have bloom into more, she’d only end up getting hurt if something happened to me. Covered all her bases there.
You’re not worth getting serious over, but if you were—and that’s a big if—my heart might not survive.
Fuck that.
My phone buzzes with a call from Luke. I answer and put it on speaker because I’m cooking Chicken Marsala one-handed.
“Hey.”
“Rossi, how goes it?”
We chat for a few about my injury, the firehouse, and how much of an asshole Woz is.
“So, Sullivan came to see me about a transfer to A-shift.”
My heart squeezes at the mention of her name. It shouldn’t surprise me that she wants off my crew but it still hurts to hear it.
“Figured that was on the cards,” I mutter. “You okay with that?”