“And the fact that he’s going means maybe he’s not feeling the same things you are?”
Erin shrugged. It pinched to hear the words aloud.
“I can’t blame him. I opted out, and this is just...an experiment, I guess. Also, I’m the only one who might be able to help him get more evidence to find this arsonist.”
“That’s too much pressure for you to put on yourself. It seems to me you have to separate out the fire stuff from the relationship stuff. You’re a different person now. Believe me,” Dana said with a laugh, looking at her shopping bags. “Maybe what you have with Bo could be different, too.”
Erin shook her head. “It’s different because I can’t remember why I didn’t want to stay in the relationship, and he’s moving on. He was clear about that. I won’t change the rules of the game now. It wouldn’t be fair. And you can’t tell anyone, Dana, please—even Scott. Okay?”
“I promise. If you promise to talk to me if you need to, when you need someone.”
“I will. Thanks. I’d better get going. I still have to shower and get ready.”
As they reached the doors that led to the parking garage, Dana put her hand on Erin’s arm.
“Erin, please be careful, okay? You’ve been hurt once, in the fire, but there are a whole lot of different ways you could end up hurt this time. I don’t want to see that happen. You’ve been through enough already.”
Erin took a deep breath and smiled brightly. “I’ll be okay, Dana. But thanks. I went into this with my eyes wide-open, but it means a lot to know I can talk to you.”
After they hugged and parted ways, Dana’s parting words lingered. Erin’s pace increased across the lot, the anticipation of seeing Bo, and of dressing up for him, giving her an extra zip. Maybe she had changed, and maybe Bo had, too. But she meant what she said. She wouldn’t change the rules of the game now, even if it meant that she was bound to get hurt in the end.
* * *
BO APPROACHED ERIN’S door with a brisk step, hoping he hadn’t overdone it as he looked down at the roses in his arms. He hadn’t bought roses for a woman in a very long time—the last time was probably for his mother on her birthday. He hadn’t ever gotten flowers for Erin, because she never seemed to want that kind of thing.
Maybe she still didn’t? He paused on the walk, looking at the roses and his dress shoes, shiny against the concrete, wondering if she might feel pressured, if this was too much.
He wanted to take her away from the ugliness of the fire scene, to take her mind off it completely. But she’d never been much for dress-up.
Well, he had reservations, but he could cancel them if need be. Whatever she wanted, he could go with the flow. That’s what he told himself as he continued to the door and rang the bell.
When the door opened, he almost dropped the roses.
“Incredible,” he whispered, taking her in as she stood before him, nervously raising her hand to her hair to push it back, and then frowning, as she often did, still forgetting it was short now.
Without saying a word, she invited him in, and Bo accepted, unable to take his eyes off her.
The black dress hugged her curves and fluttered down over her hips in soft folds that made her ultrafeminine, her long, bare legs exposed, the pretty gold sandals she wore making her look like some fairy-tale creature. His gaze drifted up, lingering on the way the deep neckline exposed the swell of her breasts and made his mouth go dry. Her short hair combined with the V-neck made her throat impossibly long and graceful. He swallowed, wanting to taste her there, his cock twitching with interest inside the loose dress pants he wore.
“You are insanely beautiful, do you know that?” he said roughly once he was inside the door, setting the roses down on a nearby table. He needed to touch her to make sure she was real.
“Thank you, I—”
It was as far as he let her go before he kissed her, hands on her shoulders, their bodies not quite touching, but he breathed her in as he touched his tongue to hers.
“You smell like...gardenia.”
Nothing strong or overwhelming, but he could pick the scent up on her skin as he came close.
“It’s a new soap I bought.”
“It’s perfect. Like you.”
She smiled, her cheeks turning pink in a feminine manner that made him even harder.
If he didn’t reroute his thinking, they’d never get out the door. Taking a step back, he picked the roses up again.
“These are for you,” he said, presenting them to her.
Her lips parted with pleasure as she brought them to her nose.
“They smell wonderful, thank you. That’s the signature of a good flower, you know, the scent.”
“Don’t they all have scent?”
Bo was again captivated by how the dress swished around her bottom as she crossed the room in front of him.
“Not a lot of the ones you find in grocery stores, and that kind of thing. I forget why, Kit told me. Some are made that way to not aggravate allergies, but others are just made to be...well, generic, I guess.”
“Interesting.”
Though, really, all he wanted to do was watch her move in that dress, go to dinner, and then get her alone and take it off her.
“Thank you. They are gorgeous,” she said admiringly, putting them in a vase on her new dining room table.
“You’re welcome. The place looks great, by the way—you’ve added new pieces.”
She smiled widely then, genuinely pleased as she looked around at her new, renovated surroundings.
“I love it. It feels more personal now, like a home should.”
A home—something Erin never seemed to care about much before. Bo cleared his throat.
“We have reservations in a half hour. Are you ready to go?”
“I am,” she said brightly, picking up a small black bag with a gold chain. Bo didn’t even know she owned clothes like these. She looked elegant and sexy in every possible way as she walked out to the door.
He was glad he’d brought his car instead of the truck.
“Oh, my, that’s yours?”
Erin stood by the side of the classic black sports car, looking like every man’s fantasy. Bo wanted to put her on the hood and push that dress up—
“Bo?”
He snapped out of his thoughts with a chagrined smile. “Sorry. Yes, that’s mine. It was my father’s. We worked on it together for years, and he left it to me when he passed on. It’s a ’67. My pride and joy. I only take it out of the garage for the occasional summer drive and a special occasion.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said admiringly, running her hand over the edge of the roof.
Bo joined her, opening the passenger-side door. “I’m glad you like it.”
And he was. Erin had admired the car before, and they had taken a few drives in it, but tonight felt different. He’d wondered if she’d remember. They’d driven the GTO to the apple orchard on their last real date, but