“But I would never have called you needy,” Bo continued. “And you aren’t now. Or, if you are, it’s understandable,” he said, turning her back around to face him.
As if to prove his point, he dipped down and kissed her. Erin clung to him, letting him in, all of her doubt washed away as he stoked the heat inside her quite effectively.
Then he slowed and stopped. “Anyway, as good as it was the other night, I was thinking that what could be more effective for helping your memory would be revisiting some of the things we did, places we went, that kind of thing.”
“Like reliving my past?”
“I guess you could look at it that way. I think you can remember, Erin. You’ve already had some things come back and the rest has to be there waiting under the surface. I think we really can do this, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
Erin stepped back, considering him more closely. She was heartened by his apparent commitment to help her, but her gut told her that there was more going on. Studying him, she started to notice the bleariness in his eyes and the shadows underneath. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved for at least a day. He’d obviously been working hard while she was wrapped up in her own self-indulgent worries.
“This fire you were at...it was bad?”
He pulled himself up, looking away as he answered. “Yeah, it was.”
“Let me get you a beer, and you can tell me about it.”
He hesitated, as if apprehensive.
“What’s wrong?”
“It would be easy, Erin, to lose track of what this is between us. To forget that we aren’t together. We used to do that a lot, sit down and talk over the day, what happened at a fire or at the station. It’s hard to know where to draw the lines.”
She paused, trying to understand. This had to be hard for him. She let out a heavy breath.
“I know. But I think we need to be all-in, right? We need to act like we are together, like it was, if this is even going to work. But I also know that’s asking a lot, and if you want out, I can see why. I’ve been selfish, only thinking of myself.”
It was difficult for her to say, because she wanted this more than anything—to get her memory back. But some part of her railed at causing him any more pain. She couldn’t continue to do that in good conscience. She had to at least offer him an out—though she hoped he wouldn’t take it.
“No, I don’t want out. This is bigger than either of us, really. I need you to remember, too. And you’re right. We do need to be all-in. We’ll deal with the end of it when we have to.”
Erin frowned as she sat down in the chair near her, at the dining-room table, such as it was. Running her hand over the cheap laminate top, the thought of changing it threaded through her mind as Bo sat, too.
“What do you mean that it’s bigger than either of us?”
“Listen, why don’t we go somewhere to talk? We can skip going to the fire site—it’s getting late anyway. Want to head over to the park?”
“Sure, that sounds good.”
As they walked out to the truck, her mind revolved around the emerging image of who she was before. Someone who didn’t seem to connect with others very well, it seemed. She clearly hadn’t been there for her sister, and she’d even kept her lover at a distance—or at least, she’d kept him a secret. All so that she could save face in her work?
A lot of the guys were married or involved, so why had she needed to keep her personal life a secret? Bo had admitted it could be different for women in the department, but...something didn’t ring true.
The idea was an uncomfortable one. It circled around in her mind as they drove. She stared out the window, trying to clear her head. There must have been reasons for her being so emotionally unavailable. If only she could remember them. It was like seeing only half of a picture, other people’s impressions, and not being able to see the whole.
They stopped across the street from Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, a Syracuse landmark. The place was hopping.
“I need something to eat. I’ll be right back,” Bo said and was out the door before she could get her seat belt off to join him.
The man was definitely antsy. Or maybe he was simply hungry.
She watched him jog to the restaurant and saw several women who stood by a line of parked motorcycles watch him, as well—he was impressive in his uniform. And out of it.
He emerged ten minutes later with a bag under either arm, and Erin wondered exactly how much food he’d ordered. Still, when he opened the backseat and put the bags in, the aromas made her mouth water.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said with a grin as his eyes met hers.
Her mind went right to the gutter. She was definitely hungry.
Bo got them back out on the highway and before she knew it, they were pulling into the Green Lakes State Park. They carried their bags over to an available picnic table near the lake. Some families were also eating out, though it was a weeknight, but it wasn’t too crowded this early in the season.
“I come here to run sometimes, though it’s a bit of a drive from my house. But the lakes are so pretty. I can never get over how still they are, and the green-blue color, though I know it’s reflecting sediment in the water,” she commented as she helped him get the food out of the bags.
“You say that every time we come here,” he said absently with a smile, surveying the table.
“Do I give you the lecture on how they are meromictic, probably formed by plunge waterfalls fifteen thousand years ago when the glaciers came through here?”
“Not if I say it first.”
She laughed. “We’re such geeks.”
The food looked great and she began eating, the fresh air making her hungrier than she expected.
“This is such a treat. Thank you. We did this kind of thing often?”
“Yeah, in the warm weather. It reduced the risk of someone seeing us out together.”
Erin’s easy mood crashed, and she set the juicy rib down that she’d started munching on.
“Was it always like that? Sneaking around and trying to avoid everyone?”
“I told you why. You had your reasons.”
“You didn’t like it.”
“I understood. Especially when we both worked in the station. When I moved out into investigation, I hoped we could be more open, but—”
“That’s when things fell apart,” she finished. “I can’t remember it, but I feel like I need to apologize for it.”
“Don’t,” he said, leveling a look at her. “Let’s just enjoy the evening.”
She nodded, though her appetite diminished somewhat. His did not, and she realized he probably hadn’t had a decent meal in days, either. Was he always this consumed by his work? In relative quiet, they finished their meal as the sun started lowering behind the trees that surrounded the lake.
“So tell me about the fire. What happened?”
He finally relented. “It was a bad one. Three houses, several families with nowhere to go now, and two dead by the time it was done. One of them a teenage mother who must have gotten trapped. Luckily, the baby was elsewhere with her grandmother. Another older man died of smoke inhalation later at the hospital, and four firefighters were injured, though not critically.”
“That’s tragic,” she said, reaching over to put a hand on his arm. He paused and covered her hand with his.
“There’s