On A Night Like This (The Callaways) (16 page)

Read On A Night Like This (The Callaways) Online

Authors: Barbara Freethy

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BOOK: On A Night Like This (The Callaways)
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"Like you wanted to play restaurant."

"Actually, that was a good game, especially when Nicole made cookies to sell in the restaurant."

She smiled, thinking about those long, endless summers of fun. "You had a good childhood."

"I did. I was lucky."

They crossed the street and walked to Aiden's truck. He opened the door for her, and she got in, buckling her seat belt. As he slid behind the wheel, she said, "So, where are we going?"

"Let's just drive and see where we end up?"

"That's not my usual style, but okay," she said with a small smile.

He smiled back at her. "The most interesting destinations are not always on the map."

"True, but I never get lost, and I'm betting you do."

Shadows filled his eyes. "All the time."

He pulled into traffic and for several minutes, they just drove. When he made no move to break the silence, she said, "Do you want to tell me more about your conversation with Becky?"

"She said that Kyle sought her out a few months ago. It's just so strange to me that he didn't mention talking to her. He would tell me the most boring moments of his day in great detail, but he leaves that out? It doesn't make sense. And then she started to say something and cut herself off. Something about missing his last call a few days before he died, wishing she could have had one more chance to do something, but she wouldn't say what. I pushed her, and she took off. She's hiding something, Sara. I know it."

"Then she's a good place to start. When you talk to Jeanne tomorrow, be sure to tell her everything you just told me."

"I could be reading into things." He glanced over at her, a question in his eyes.

"You could be," she said.

He frowned. "I was not looking for that answer."

"Just being honest, Aiden. You're very close to the situation, and you're still grieving for your friend. You want there to be a reason for what happened, a reason that doesn't make you accountable. You're not so different from Vicky in that regard. You both want something or someone else to blame. It might have just been a tragic accident. Your job is inherently dangerous. Every time you jump a fire, you're putting your life on the line."

"I just want to make sure I didn't put Kyle's life on the line. But you're very smart, Sara. You have the ability to look at an entire situation instead of just a few pieces. You must be a good lawyer."

"I am good," she said without hesitation.

He laughed. "Now, who's the cocky one?"

"I'm just stating a fact. I'm really good with academic type problems and that's what the law is. There are precedents for anything and research and investigation are some of my stronger skills. I just wish sometimes that I'd chosen a different area of law, something a little more exciting, more meaningful."

"Is it too late to change?"

"It would take me way off track, and I've worked so hard to get to where I am. You have no idea how many hours I've put in. I don't do anything else but work. Just taking this weekend off was a huge accomplishment. I had to work extra hours all last week."

"It sounds like a grueling grind."

"It is, and I've been running for a long time. After my mom died my sophomore year in college, I had to focus on something that would take my mind off the pain. That was school. My classes were my life. My grades were an obsession. Law school was more of the same. I thought I could take a break when I finally got a job, but that was a crazy thought. There were more goals in front of me, and if someone gives me a test, I have to pass. It's ingrained in me." She paused. "I am talking way too much."

"Don't stop. It sounds like those thoughts have been trying to get out of your head for a while."

"They have been, but I keep pushing them back in. I have a great job, and I make good money. I can afford to live by myself in Manhattan which is a phenomenal accomplishment but…"

"But it's not enough. There's a little something called life that you seem to be missing out on."

"I keep telling myself I'm going to have that life when I make partner."

"After that there will be another goal, another mountain to climb. And for what? Is it really for you, Sara? Or are you still hoping to impress your dad?"

"I'll admit I'd like to see some respect in his eyes just once in my life, but that isn't solely what drives me. I want to succeed for myself."

"You already have succeeded. You just told me that," Aiden said. "You've got a great job, money, a place to live. If you want to make a change, then you should do it."

"That's easier said than done. People don't walk away from my firm. It's one of the best in the country. I couldn't do better. And my resume would take a hit if I left."

"All practical considerations," he conceded. "But while every job has its dull days, you should love some of what you do. Otherwise, why do it?"

"Do you love your job?" she asked.

He didn't answer right away, then said. "I used to."

His profile was hard, his gaze turned toward the road, but she suspected his mind was somewhere else. "Did that change because of Kyle's death?"

"Partly. But like you, I've had to consider the toll the job is taking on my life. The fire season demands total commitment. There's no time for anything or anyone else. It's also physically demanding. We jump into areas that no one else can get to. We have to live off whatever we can carry in our packs, sometimes for days at a time, battling hot and monstrous fires that are beyond your imagination."

Despite the negativity of his words, she could hear the passion in his voice. "But you like the magnificence of the challenge."

"I do," he admitted. "I like the adrenaline rush, pushing myself to the limit, and the sense of satisfaction that comes when we beat down a fire. But even the wins come with losses, not just people but also land. The fire dies, but the devastation can last for years."

"Still, you make a difference, so why would you quit?"

"I'm not sure they want me back."

"They can't fire you for no reason and you said that the incident reports were vague, that people thought things could have been done differently, but nobody was sure you made a definitive mistake."

He cast her a quick smile. "That's a lawyer talking. The real issue is whether anyone could ever trust me again. You can't work a fire with people who can't trust you with their life."

"Is it really about their trust, or about whether or not you can trust yourself?" she challenged.

"That, too," he admitted.

"Well, I hope we can get you the answers you need. I'm sure your family would help, too, if you asked them."

"I don't want anyone in the family, especially those members who work in the fire department, to be put in the position of defending me. I won't take down the family."

She admired his loyalty. It was actually one of the traits she'd first noticed about him. "Do you know when you first changed from being Emma's annoying big brother, to being kind of cool?" she asked.

He shook his head, giving her a quick smile. "I have no idea what I ever did to impress you."

"I was a freshman in high school at the time, and you were a senior. One day at lunch, a bunch of bullies tackled Joey Randall and tried to stuff him in the garbage can. You stopped them. You stood up for him while everyone else was just watching."

"I couldn't stand those assholes."

"But no one else acted, only you. You're loyal and courageous, Aiden. I don't believe you were responsible for Kyle's death. There's no way on earth that you would have let him die if you could have saved him." She said the words with conviction, realizing how true they were. "What amazes me is that anyone who knows you could believe otherwise."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Sara, but you haven't been around me in a long time. You don't know what kind of man I am anymore."

"People don't change the core of who they are."

"I don't know about that. I have a feeling Kyle changed right in front of my eyes, and I didn't even see it."

"You don't know that yet, Aiden."

He shrugged. "We'll see."

She glanced out the window, noticing that they were going in the opposite direction of their neighborhood. "So how long do we just pick random streets to drive down?"

"Don't worry, I've come up with a destination, Sara."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"Sometimes surprise is good, Sara."

"I said that to my dad, right before the house caught fire."

He laughed. "This surprise will be better."

"It probably couldn't be worse."

She settled back in her seat, watching the city go by. In San Francisco the neighborhoods had distinct personalities and changed every few blocks. Haight Ashbury was still considered hip after being the mecca for the hippie and flower child peace movement in the sixties. The Sunset was more for families and young couples. Russian Hill was filled with singles looking for action at the local bars. Then there was Chinatown, the south of Market area that was coming alive with restaurants and clubs since the building of the new baseball park, and downtown where the skyscrapers housed the hustle and bustle of the business world.

Ten minutes later, Aiden turned toward the water, weaving his way down Union Street and into the Marina, the upscale neighborhood where houses and apartment buildings looked out on the Bay. They left the main road and drove along the outskirts of the Presidio, an old army base. The property had a spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge.

A few minutes later, Aiden pulled into a deserted parking lot. Nearby was a paved path that ran along the beach and was popular in the daytime for walkers and joggers. Tonight the area was quiet and dark, most of the illumination coming from the lights on the bridge and a few passing ships making their way from the Pacific Ocean into the bay.

"Feel like taking a walk?" Aiden asked, as he shut off the engine.

"It's kind of cold."

"You can wear my jacket."

"Then you'll be cold."

"I have a sweatshirt somewhere," he said, reaching into the back of the cab. "Here it is."

"I'll just wear that," she said.

"Are you sure? It's not stylish."

"I don't care about that. It looks warm." She stepped out of the truck and slipped the big sweatshirt over her head. It was warm and smelled like musk and Aiden. She chased that thought out of her head, firmly reminding herself they were just two old friends, and that nothing else would ever happen between them.

She couldn't let Aiden back into her heart. It had taken far too long to get him out. They were passing ships in the night, in the same place at the same time for now, but not forever. Their other lives would soon call them back home.

They walked down the path together, not talking, just enjoying the beauty of the night, the water, and the bridge, which served as a majestic gateway to the west. Out here, her real life seemed even farther away. And being alone with Aiden on a moonlit night with such a beautiful vista in front of them was making her regret her recent resolve not to turn this into something romantic. Because really, this moment, this night, reminded her of all the dreams she'd ever had about Aiden.

Aiden paused by a low sea wall, the waters of the bay just a few feet away. "You're quiet," he commented.

"Just enjoying the walk," she said.

"And thinking," he said. "I have the feeling that at any given time, there are a million thoughts running through your head."

"I do tend to have a busy brain," she admitted.

"So what are you thinking about now?"

She hesitated. "I shouldn't tell you."

"Now you have to tell me. You can't leave it like that," he said with a teasing smile.

She couldn't help smiling back. "Fine, but it will make you uncomfortable."

"I'll take my chances."

"I feel like I'm living out my teenage fantasy. We ran into each other at a party. You asked to give me a ride home, then you wanted to take me for a drive. Now I'm wearing your sweatshirt and walking on the beach with you."

"You fantasized about doing all that?"

"Yes, and don't try to act surprised. You knew I had a crush on you."

"It was hard to miss. You kept dropping things and running into furniture when we crossed paths."

"Don't remind me," she said, embarrassed by the truth.

"You were cute," he said.

"Great, just what I wanted you to think—that I was clumsy and cute."

"And smart. Do you know when I first saw you as someone besides one of my sister's annoying friends?" he asked, repeating her earlier question.

"I didn't think you ever stopped seeing me that way."

"It was on the night of your junior prom. You and Emma got dressed at the house and were taking pictures in the yard. I was in college by then, and I was shocked at the way you looked in that purple dress."

She was stunned that he remembered what she was wearing. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "Oh, yeah. It was the first time I realized you had really nice breasts."

His words brought a wave of heat to her cheeks, and she instinctively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You didn't even talk to me that night."

"You left me speechless."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because you thought the attraction you felt was all one-sided."

"It was," she said. "I got proof of that a year later when you rejected me."

"Protected you," he corrected.

"You're just trying to be nice, Aiden."

"I'm not." He moved a little closer, and she found herself backing up against the wall.

"What are you doing?" she asked, a breathless note in her voice.

"I'm wondering if your fantasy ended with a simple walk on the beach. Or, if maybe something else happened?"

A tingle ran down her spine at the predatory look in his eyes. "That's exactly where it ended," she lied.

"I don't believe you, Sara."

"Well, back then, I might have wanted you to kiss me, but that was then and this is now."

"And now you don't want me?" he queried.

She wanted to say no, she didn't want him, but all she could think about was how sexy he looked in the moonlight, how much she wanted that full mouth on hers, how good it might feel to be in his arms again. She drew in a shaky breath. Things were getting way out of hand. She was getting lost in the past, in the dark, isolation of this romantic night. This wasn't real. In an hour or even five minutes from now, they'd go back to being who they were, and those people were never going to end up together.

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