Too Much Heat (Wounded Heroes: The Redemption #4)

Chapter 1

3 years later

What the hell was happening to the women who populated his life? Frustrated, Joe Romano sat in his office watching Firefighter Lara Swanson melt down, much as he’d seen his sister-in-law lose it yesterday at Sunday dinner.

“I’m not going to stand for this, Captain. You have to tell them to stop.”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles over each other. Something about this woman needled him. “Swanson, you’re the rookie. It’s common practice to pull pranks on the new guy. Or in this case girl.” She’d been placed at Engine 1 because the chief thought he could handle a woman on the squad.

“I’ve been here a month. How long are you going to shirk your duties and refuse to get your men in line?”

“There are four other female firefighters in Westwood,” Joe said calmly. “Talk to them. See how they handled this kind of thing.”

She lifted that chin. Man, he hated when women did that. He took it personally, like they were flipping the bird at him. “For your information, I already did that. Their captains did their jobs and put a halt to the hazing in a timely manner.”

“Really?” He had her on this. “I talked to Mia Colton the other day at the academy. She said the guys badgered her for a month, then they got tired of it.”

Swanson plopped her hands on her waist. “Your guys still pick on me about the call where you said I didn’t turn off the gas.”

“You didn’t.” But hell, he wouldn’t stand for her being razzed over that. Everybody made mistakes.

“Whatever. These Neanderthals are nowhere close to what Colton had to deal with.”

“Calling them names isn’t going to help your case.”

“I could report sexual harassment.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Is someone sexually harassing you?”

“For your information, it’s called a hostile work environment, Captain.”

He sat up straight. “Did you write down examples?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” She practically threw the papers she held on his desk.

He bolted up. “Listen to me, rookie. You will respect this office no matter how angry you are at me. I’ll look at that” he gestured to the papers “but I suggest you leave now before I write you up for insubordination.”

Her face turned beat red. She was light-complexioned so that betrayed everything she was feeling. But instead of saying more, she turned and strode out.

Walking over to the sideboard, he got a cup of coffee, closed his door and sat back down. First, Erin, now this.

Sunday dinners were a staple in the Romano family and Jimmy’s widow still attended them. She’d sat down next to him and kissed his cheek…

“Hi, handsome.”

His older sister, Caroline, rolled her eyes. Julia shook her head. His mother and father looked down at their plates. They were probably embarrassed by her behavior. He was going to have to tackle this head on. He waited until the meal was over and Erin stood. “Come help me clean up, Joey.”

Caroline started to rise, too. “I’ll do it.”

“No, Caro, I’ll take care of this.” Under his breath, he murmured, “Once and for all.”

As soon as they got to the kitchen, she pounced. Took his mouth in a searing kiss. Or what would have been searing. He grabbed her arms and literally set her away. “Do not ever do that again. Don’t call me pet names or sidle up and brush against me.”

She burst into tears. “It’s just that I miss Jimmy so much.”

The hole that was constantly in his stomach widened. But he wouldn’t give into it today. “My brother died three years ago. You should go on with your life. Get a grip. Or I’ll tell Ma I won’t come to dinner if you’re invited.”

“I want to go on with you.”

“Hell, Erin, you can’t replace Jimmy with me.”

“He’d like that.”

“No, he knew how I felt about you.”

Joe and Erin never got along. Some people thought he was jealous of their relationship, of how she took up Jimmy’s time, but that would be like being jealous of himself. No, he saw how self-centered she was, how she used sex to control him and how she hurt him with her selfishness.

“You’re so mean, Joey. Why?”

“Because I can’t stand you fawning over me. Stop sexually harassing me like this, Erin. I mean it or I’ll take steps…”

As he drove home, he couldn’t suppress other memories either and the floodgates opened. There was another woman who caused him acute grief.

After Jimmy died, his sisters sobered him up enough to go see the family that had lost their children in the fire. They went with him.

Diana Hartfield hadn’t been happy when she found him at her door. Neither had her twelve-year-old son. Her husband had been behind her with a blank expression on his face. Diana told him in no uncertain terms that they held him responsible for their twins’ death. For several nights, he dreamed about the two little kids who’d died. In most of them, Diana was screaming that this was all his fault.

It didn’t matter. He agreed with her. He couldn’t save Jimmy or the twin boys. He was responsible for their deaths. He pulled over to the side of the road, trying to banish the memory. It hurt like hell every time he recalled what he’d done.

* * *

Lara jumped on the treadmill and forced herself to calm. She’d been inappropriate with her commanding officer but left his office before she went too far.

It was just that he was such a man’s man. And, she had to admit, a firefighter’s firefighter . He always knew what to do when they went on a call. But Lara was so sick of men complicating her life, like they’d done in the fire academy and now on her first job. She was determined to make firefighting her successful career.

She was thinking about that when the PA crackled. “EMS call at 45 Baker Street. Possible stroke. Engine 1 go into service.”

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” Romano called out as they all entered the bay.

Lara jumped into her turnout pants and boots that were set up in front of the rig, grabbed her turnout coat from a hook in the bay and was the first in her seat.

Once they were moving, Captain Romano read his tablet. When they pulled up in front of the house, he said, “Swanson and Trent, stay alert. This looks routine but it could be life or death. And no turnout coats. It’s a bitch of a summer out there.” The wore navy fire department T-shirts with their uniform pants.

They hopped off the truck and strode up to the porch. Romano knocked, called out, “Fire department” and went inside; the screen banged behind them.

He took one look at the man on the floor. The attack was over but signs were evident. He grabbed for his radio. “Ambo needed at this address.”

He turned to the family. “Can you tell us what happened?” he asked the woman who was visibly shaken.

“He was coming back to the couch from the kitchen and grasped his left arm then fell to the ground.”

Joe said to Lara, “Go ahead, Swanson. Assess him.”

Lara dropped to her knees. “Face drooping on left side. Sir, can you stretch out your arms?”

The guy mumbled something unintelligible. “Speech is impaired.” She waited until the man raised his hands. “Left arm is drifting.”

“What do you say, Pike?”

Abe Pike was a paramedic in their group at Engine 1. “Right on the nose.”

The screech of sirens indicated that the ambulance had arrived out front. In sixty seconds, the EMS guys rushed in.

Pike bent down to help them get the patient on the stretcher. Lara followed suit because they needed another person to lift the burly man.

When the victim was wheeled out, Romano stayed inside.

The wife asked, “Did he really have a stroke?”

“All signs indicate that. But it was good news that he could lift his arms. That means there was no paralysis in the upper body.”

“I guess I should be grateful for that.”

“Do you have transportation to Westwood Memorial?”

“I don’t, but my brother’s on his way over. I already called him.”

They waited until the brother arrived, updated the man, then left. The sun’s rays beat down on them as they took the stairs off the porch and headed to the rig. Once they were on their way, the captain said, “Let’s debrief.”

Oh, boy. She wondered what he’d find wrong with what she did.

* * *

Joe drove into the long driveway and stopped halfway up. The big Victorian on a hill off Center Street loomed before him. Surrounded by a wrap-around porch and railing, it sparkled in the late-afternoon sun.

He exited his sporty Civic in the garage and the empty space next to him made him take in a breath. It was Jimmy’s space. Before sadness could overwhelm him, he walked into his house and threw his backpack on the kitchen island. He had a flash of him and Jimmy putting the counter in. His twin had feigned frustration.

Fuck, this is heavy.

Sissy. Stop complaining.

You owe me a beer.

Nah, you’re going to live here too.

Until I get married.

We’ll see.

Tonight, the place felt empty. It didn’t always. When his family visited. When Jackson stopped by. When he entertained women, none who had interested him in a serious relationship. Suddenly, he wished he’d find someone to share his life. But he quickly squelched the idea. Best not to get close to anybody. Another loss might kill him.

He thought about how much trouble the woman on his group was giving him. What to do about her?

A knock came on the kitchen screen and then it opened.

“Hey, buddy,” Jackson Kane said when he walked through the door. He held up a six pack of beer and a pizza. The smell of the spicy sauce made Joe’s stomach growl. “If you have plans I’ll leave the beer and take the pizza home to Maisy. She’s having cravings.”

Maisy Shepherd Kane was pregnant, and the couple and their adoptive son were over the moon.

“No plans. Stay. Give me the details of how she’s doing. Do you have a name? Is it a boy or girl?

“We wanted to be surprised so we don’t know either.” Jackson set the food and drink on the counter and opened two bottles. “How come you don’t have any plans tonight?”

“I don’t know. I was wishing I’d made them.”

Jackson studied him. He probably sensed Joe’s loneliness. They were close friends since they’d bonded three years ago when the two of them walked out of a support group meeting. He’d been the one to pull Joe back from the edge when his grief over Jimmy got to be too much for him. Over the years, Joe had been there for Jackson, too. “Let’s kick back outside. It’s a great night.”

They brought everything to the backyard and sat at an oak table Joe and Jimmy had found at a flea market and refinished. They’d bought chairs and ended up spending a lot of time out here.

“Remember when we filled in the holes in the backyard? You never found out who did it.”

“Nope. What a crazy prank.”

Jackson rubbed his hand on the table. “Do you think about Jimmy every time you sit here?”

“Uh-huh. Usually, it’s pleasant to remember things about him. Today not so much.”

His friend sipped his beer. “Why?”

“I came home in a weird place. I was thinking about Jimmy and me working on the kitchen. I felt…” He looked past Jackson’s shoulders and stared at the trees. “I guess I’m lonely.”

“I remember the feeling. Sometimes it creeps up on you.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want a family, Joe?”

“I don’t know. When I think about getting close to a woman, I panic.”

“You should take a chance anyway. We just hired somebody to replace Maisy. Her name is Ellen and she’s not only a looker, she’s smart and personable. We could have her over for dinner and invite you.”

“That’d be pretty obvious.”

“She and Annie have gotten close. We could—”

“No, nothing arranged. If it does happen, it’s got to be organic.”

Jackson burst out laughing. Even after three months, Joe still couldn’t get used to the changes Maisy brought in his life. “That’s like waiting for the stars to shine in the daytime.”

“I’ll do this my way. End of discussion. Now tell me about Maisy and Freddie.”

“Freddie’s great. He’s made a lot of friends. It seems like there’s always one or two other kids in the house.”

“Does he still see Maisy’s brother?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s with Caleb often.”

“I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Come over for dinner.”

“I’d like to visit with your family. But no setup.”

“Okay.” He sat forward and opened the pizza box. “We should eat this before it gets cold.”

Joe grabbed a slice, thinking how glad he was Jackson had come over. He really did need to get out more.

* * *

Goddamn him. He was sitting outside with his good buddy yakking it up. He had it made with this big house and a nice car and clothes. He’d climbed the ladder to Captain at an unusually fast pace because he had pull in the department. Ostensibly, he had no personal life, which I find hard to fathom. After all, he was an attractive man. But none of it mattered. He had to pay.

* * *

Lara was whipped when she walked up to the porch. She stumbled over the loose board but righted herself and made it to the door. The squeaky screen door. The outside of her house was falling apart and they still had a lot to do inside. They’d moved right in as soon as they’d gotten to town because the furniture arrived ahead of them.

The ever-present noise of the television—up very loud—grated on her nerves. She took a breath and let it out, then went inside.

“About time,” her husband said, his tone surly, like it got at the end of the day. And she noticed his speech seemed more slurred.

“Hello to you, too. Hello, Monica.” Sammy needed an aide.

Lara came around the couch and kissed his cheek. “And for the record, I came straight home from work.”

He grumbled something.

She ushered Monica to the door. “How’d it go today?”

“Okay. No outbursts. But boy, how do you put up with that dark mood he’s in?”

“He’s got reason.”

She squeezed Lara’s arm and left.

Lara went back to the living room and sat down across from Sammy. His entire body seemed to be caving into itself as he eased back on the reclining part of the couch. As usual, his eyes were haunted.

“How was your day, Sam?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Please don’t be nasty.”

“Okay. Sorry. I’m hungry.” He could still eat real food but had trouble swallowing so the meal had to be soft.

“I’m going to cook pasta.”

“Okay.”

“Did something happen to make you more cranky than usual?”

“You try being stuck in this chair 24-7.”

And there it was. The quicksilver change in mood again.

“Only because you won’t leave the house. Come on, let’s get you up and we’ll go sit in the backyard. Maybe have a picnic.”

“No.”

“Sammy…please.”

“Go cook. I gotta pee anyway and I don’t want you to watch.” He had a bottle from the hospital specifically for urination that he kept on the side of the couch. Soon, she knew, he wouldn’t be able to manage that alone.

“All right.”

She got up and went to the kitchen. Like an automaton, she put the water on to boil, dumped some sauce she’d made yesterday into a pan to heat it. She took frozen meatballs from the fridge and put them into the microwave.

After that, she climbed the stairs to the second floor and felt better immediately. This was her refuge and she’d taken care to set it up. The Cape Cod’s second floor sported two sections with the staircase up the middle. Dormers gave the room character as did the high ceiling. They’d planned on having two kids, one for each side. That dream fled when Sam was diagnosed with early-onset ALS. He was only forty.

She crossed to the left. A queen size bed with peach and taupe quilt sat in the middle of the space. Dressers she’d found on the street sat on two walls. She’d stripped them and put on a natural coat so the oak shined through.

For a moment, she flopped on the bed. She’d learned to shower before she left the firehouse—the bathroom was downstairs and full of Sammy’s stuff. So all she had to do was change. She looked longingly at the other side. A rope swing sat in one dormer, a treadmill in front of the TV, a peach couch and taupe chair that she’d bought for a song beckoned.

Instead, she forced herself up, changed into shorts and a t-shirt and headed back downstairs.

This time, Sammy didn’t give her grief about taking the medication which slowed down the progression of the disease. After supper, he watched some TV then went to sleep at eight. So she only had a few hours to feed him dinner, get him settled for the night and endure the rants of a man she once loved to pieces.