“I’m sorry it was so hard for you. And I’m grateful you’ve let me be here with you. It’s nice to spend time together. I assume we didn’t do that so much before?”
Kit sighed, the strain melting away somewhat. “No, we didn’t. Sometimes we’d have lunch on your days off, but even then, you were usually at the firehouse. I’d meet you there.”
“I’m sorry. The more I hear, the more I know that I gave everything to the job. Maybe too much. But I do appreciate it. And I appreciate you. I really do.”
Erin closed the distance to hug her sister.
Kit hugged her back. “I’m not trying to be critical. I know they’re your friends. But I worry about your future.”
“It’s only been a few months since I’ve been out of the hospital. I’m not giving up yet on getting my past back. I don’t know what I’ll do with my life, and the job, but right now I need to remember. I have to have hope, false or otherwise.”
“Okay. But maybe you can find a safer line of work next time?”
Erin held up her scraped fingers. “Like handling flowers? I’m willing to bet I didn’t end up this bloody on a daily basis as a firefighter.”
Kit couldn’t resist a grin, shaking her head. “True, you are not a natural florist.”
“What are you doing tonight?” Erin asked, changing the topic.
“Quarterly taxes for the store are almost due. I’m way behind on accounting.”
Erin felt a pinch of guilt; her sister was behind, no doubt because of her.
“Another night working? So I take it you’re not seeing anyone right now, either?”
Kit rolled her eyes. “The market has been down lately.”
Erin chuckled. “Tomorrow night, I’m taking you to dinner.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Great. It’s a date.”
Erin left, glad the tension had lifted. With her sister anyway. She was one big knot inside at the thought of seeing Bo again.
Her watch told her that she might already be too late to catch him at his office. There was no way she could get home to change and then head over to the station, but she didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.
When she reached her car, the decision was made for her as her cell phone rang. She looked down to see Bo’s caller ID. Not his name, just “Fire Investigation,” which was how he’d been labeled in her work contact list. If they did have a personal relationship, there was very little evidence of it. Wouldn’t there have been emails or phone calls? A cute picture of him on her phone?
“Hello?”
“Erin.”
“Marshal Myers.”
“Bo, please.”
She hadn’t used his first name before, but considering she might have ended up having sex with him on the picnic table outside the bar if no one had interrupted the night before, she supposed they were way past formalities.
“I was hoping you might be able to meet me. To talk, if you have time,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.
Hearing his voice made her think of his lips. His lips made her think of—
She ruthlessly cut off that line of thought. “I was thinking the same thing, actually. I’m leaving the shop now. I could be at your office in—”
“No, not the office. Your place?”
She paused. Was this smart? Why didn’t he want to meet at his office, which was a safe, neutral ground? Did she feel comfortable enough with Bo to invite him to her house?
In a sense, no. She wasn’t sure that what they had to talk about was fodder for public ears, either.
“How about that diner by the lake? June’s?” she suggested. It had booths in the back, enough privacy to talk, but it was public enough so that they wouldn’t, well, whatever.
He was so quiet she thought that he might have hung up.
“Are you there?”
“That works. An hour?”
“Okay, yes. That’s good.”
They hung up without further discussion.
The hour would give her time to go home, wash up and change her shirt, but as she stood in front of her closet twenty minutes later, she froze, unable to choose what to wear. All of the clothes she’d picked out with Dana now seemed too sexy—too inviting.
But she didn’t want to wear any of her department shirts—that felt like a lie.
She growled in frustration, disgusted. She was meeting him at a diner, and it wasn’t a date. They were going to talk. That was all. She didn’t need to dress to impress.
Taking a blue blouse from the hanger, she put it on with the jeans she was already wearing and didn’t bother checking in the mirror lest she change her mind. It would be fine. She lifted her hand to her hair, a reflex making her try to push it behind her ear. She kept forgetting it was short.
Locking the house, she took off and arrived at the diner just in time. The fire department SUV that Bo drove was already parked in the lot. He was early.
Her heartbeat picked up pace, and her hands were actually sweating. Damn.
“Oh, get over yourself, Riley,” she muttered under her breath.
Getting out of the car, she slammed the door harder than she meant to. Nerves. She calmed herself, then walked inside.
Bo was at the back—apparently having had the same thought she did about privacy—though June’s wasn’t too full tonight. All the booths around them were empty, and she stepped forward. He was talking to a server who was putting a drink and menus on the table, and he smiled at the young waitress.
There was no flirtation―it was simply a friendly smile―but it tripped Erin up. He was in his uniform this time and that alone was striking. But that smile. It was killer. And it was for someone else.
A sharp pinch—jealousy?—grabbed at her chest. On the way to the booth, she passed the server who winked at her as she blew her bangs up, as if needing to cool down.
“Nice to see you again, hon. It’s been a while.”
The waitress had already hurried past by the time Erin could reply. She approached Bo with what she hoped was a casual, friendly smile.
“Hi. I hope you haven’t been waiting long. I needed to go home and change. Crazy as it seems, I manage to make more of a mess of myself working with flowers than I probably did when I fought fires.”
Oh, cripes, she was babbling.
He looked so good, sitting there in his uniform shirt, those long fingers wrapped around a coffee mug.
“It’s only been few minutes. Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”
So few words, and yet he managed to make her knees shake. She sat and found that she suddenly had nothing to say. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
How the heck did she tell this man that she’d been having hot and heavy dreams about him, and she needed to know if they’d ever had sex? Jumping right in was the only option that came to mind.
* * *
“THE WAITRESS KNEW me. She seemed to know...us. Was there an...us?”
“We used to come here now and then,” Bo hedged, taken aback by her sudden question. She was clearly nervous, and he was now doubting the wisdom of meeting again. Especially here.
He was