Hank and Kit were working on the kitchen, which was being redone in sunny yellow and white, and Leroy was retiling her bathroom floor after she had finished painting the room a soft gray with white trim.
Pete was busy on the trim while she’d finished the walls in the entryway—the same honey color as the sunroom—and looked down at her with mock severity.
“No napping on the job, Riley.”
“I’m just appreciating the color mixes from a different perspective. I saw it on a design show on TV,” she lied, fighting a grin.
All of her blah furniture had been donated, as well. Someone else might make good use of it, but tomorrow, a new dining and living room set and some decorative pieces would be delivered here.
There were several art shows around the Syracuse area every summer, one in particular downtown in July that was juried, and she couldn’t wait to choose colorful, cool stuff to put on her walls and tables. It all made her feel more like herself—or whoever she was becoming. Someone who liked color. Lots of it.
Her smile faded as she thought it would be nice to put up some family photos. Maybe she’d take a photography course and frame some pictures of her own.
The picture of her and Bo on the beach came back to mind, and along with it, a ping of regret that none of those photos could be displayed.
“Hey, no lying down on the job,” Leroy said as he came into the room.
Walking up to her, he nudged her with his foot, as if checking to see if she was still alive. She played the game for a second, and then moved fast, grabbing his leg and pulling him down into a wrestling hold that came naturally, though he turned her around and then held her captive in the next second.
“Glad to see you remember some of that jujitsu I showed you, but not enough, lady, not enough,” he whispered menacingly in her ear with an evil chuckle. “Loser buys dinner.”
She hugged Leroy back, a real hug, not a defensive one this time, and laughed.
“Okay, I planned on treating you all anyway. No need to get violent,” she joked as they got up from the floor. “But seriously, you guys do great work. I can’t believe how different it looks. And feels. It’s a lot more cheerful to be here now.”
“It would be even more cheerful with a couple jumbo buckets of fried chicken,” Pete said.
“And sides,” Leroy added.
“I get it. Food. Okay. I’m going to go upstairs and see how Bo’s coming along, and then I’ll go.”
Bo had joined in when Erin had sent a general invite for a painting party at her place when it became apparent that left to her own devices, she’d never get it all done. With the general invite open to everyone, it didn’t make anyone curious about why Bo had joined in.
Dana and Scott had come, and a few other people from the department. It was fun, and the place got done very quickly. She also liked that Bo had chosen to work upstairs. Dana and Scott were with him until they had to leave. Since then, he’d been alone. It had taken all of her willpower to stay downstairs and not go up to see him too often.
Taking the stairs two at a time, she left Pete and Leroy, who were bickering about a sports controversy, and went into her bedroom. The ugly beige was now a soft rose color on one accent wall behind her bed, the others painted in a very pale gray.
“Oh, this is so pretty,” she said, making Bo aware of her presence as he put the finishing touches on the trim around her closet. “I can’t thank you enough for all of this. It would have taken me forever to do it myself.”
She couldn’t help but think how he looked at home in her bedroom. He should, she figured, with as much time as he’d spent there in the past two weeks. They’d fallen into a pattern of sorts, much like the one Bo said they had before. They spent evenings and his days off together, sometimes at his place, sometimes at hers. In the meantime, she helped with Kit’s store and kept busy.
She had remembered a lot—but it was always from her relationship with Bo, some family memories, or events with friends. Like Leroy teaching her some jujitsu holds and takedowns. Nothing about the fires or the job.
At least there hadn’t been another arson in that time, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it was only a matter of time.
“No thanks required. This is fun. Relaxing stuff. How are things going downstairs?”
“We’re almost there. Still need to do about half the trim and finish the bathroom floor. I don’t know where Hank and Kit are on the kitchen. I’ll check when I go back down to get dinner orders, which is why I’m here. Fried chicken and sides okay with you?”
Bo looked at her and stepped down off the short ladder he was using to reach the upper part of the trim, and crossed to where she stood.
“That’s fine, but it isn’t really what I’m hungry for.”
Then he was kissing her, and Erin didn’t mind one bit. In fact, with the door cracked open, and voices from the first floor filtering up as everyone worked and talked, she thought she might have a few minutes to show Bo how appreciative she was for his help.
Sliding her hand down his chest, her fingers made their way to the zipper of his jeans and he pulled back.
“Hey, now, we’re not alone.”
“I know, so you’ll have to be really quiet,” she said with a naughty smile.
Bo gave in, bracing one hand against the wall as she littered kisses over his throat, stroking him in a hard, fast way that she knew he liked.
Someone’s voice got louder in the entryway, and they both stilled, but there were no footsteps on the stairs, so she continued. Taking his other hand, she placed it over her breast as she kissed him, and felt him shudder.
His groan was low and deep, and he collapsed against the wall with a resounding thump as he climaxed, his breathing harsh, though he made no other sound.
“Hey, everything okay up there?”
Pete must have heard the noise, and Erin smiled as Bo caught his breath.
“Yeah, Bo just dropped a can of paint, but it had the lid on, thank goodness. I’ll be back down in a second,” she responded.
Bo’s chest was still heaving, his eyes hot as he pulled her in for one more kiss.
“You always did like the chance of being caught,” he said before he released her, separating so that they could fix themselves up.
She shrugged. “It’s fun. The excitement of almost being caught adds a little something.”
“Have you ever thought what?”
Erin shook her head. “I don’t know. Some adventure, I guess. I do remember the time we had sex under the stands at that concert. That was crazy, with people all over the place, but it was also really, really hot.”
Dressed again, he put the lid on the paint can he was finished with.
“That it was,” he agreed with a chuckle.
“I guess it’s my little bit of kink. You don’t have any—or any that I remember?”
Standing, he looked at her speculatively, as if unsure if he wanted to answer. That intrigued her, and she dared him with her smile.
“C’mon, Myers. Confess your naughty secrets to me.”
“Nope, not me. I’m kink-free. Straight as an arrow,” he said, fighting a smile.
“So you’re not going to tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell, Erin.”
She