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Much, much more.
She’d dreamed of him before in hazy, undefined ways, but last night... Well, her imagination had had a lot more material to work with. Her fantasies had been very specific. She remembered the whorls of dark hair on his chest as her fingers had touched him. The hard muscles of his thigh and in particular, a mark on the side of his hip that her mind returned to again and again. It was shaped like an almond, dark against his normal skin tone.
She’d pressed her lips to it, hearing him moan as her hands explored elsewhere.
And there had been apples.
Usually, her dreams were smoky and shapeless, everything occurring in jumbles against a blurred background. But last night she’d seen apples. As if she were looking up from the ground, under a tree full of ripe, red fruit.
When he’d kissed her outside the bar, it had been a surprise, but on a deeper, more basic level, it had been familiar and right.
Her hands trembled as she returned to the roses, sorting them by variety without further injury and putting them in fresh water and into the coolers. Then she headed out front, where she saw that the closed sign had been flipped and her sister was bent over the computer on the counter.
“Evening already? What time is it?”
“Four-thirty. I closed a bit early.”
Kit—short for Kathleen, a name that Erin learned her sister had never liked—looked up from her work, eyeing the front of Erin’s shirt with a smirk. “The roses biting again?”
“How could you... Oh,” she said, looking down to see blood from various scrapes had gotten on the white blouse she wore.
“I told you to wear one of the aprons,” Kit said in true older-sister, know-it-all tone. So what if she had been right?
“I will next time, Kathleen,” Erin said with appropriate sisterly sarcasm.
Kit’s lips twitched with humor.
“Well, it’s good that you remember how to be annoying.”
Erin stuck her tongue out and they laughed. Joking around was good and helped dispel some of the ghosts she’d been wrestling with—and her thoughts about Bo.
“Do you mind if I take off early, too?”
Kit looked at Erin over the top of her glasses, frowning. “You’re going out with the guys from the firehouse again?”
Tension settled between them, as Erin struggled between telling Kit what happened and telling her she wasn’t her mother. Erin could go where she wanted, including out with the crew.
Kit had told her outright that she’d never been a fan of Erin’s chosen profession. The accident had made her even more set against it. Kit didn’t even seem to like her hanging out with the guys, but Erin enjoyed seeing them. She wondered what her sister would think about what happened with Bo.
“I can tell something is bothering you. Spill.” Kit was way too perceptive.
Erin chose her words carefully. “Do you know if I was seeing anyone before the accident? If there was a guy? Someone special?”
Kit’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think so. You were all about the job and never mentioned anyone. Did you remember something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve been having some dreams, and I can’t tell if it’s a memory or a figment of my imagination, but I saw someone at the bar last night, and he was...familiar.”
“How so?”
“You know. Familiar,” Erin said again, with an emphasis that made her sister nod knowingly.
“Well, I suppose you might have hooked up with someone and not said anything. But you never told me about it, not that you would have.”
Erin frowned. Apparently, she and Kit had not exactly been close sisters, though Kit had been there for her every minute since the accident. Whatever tension was between them didn’t matter when the chips were down.
“Did he know you?”
Erin nodded. “There was definite chemistry. The explosive kind.”
Erin couldn’t remember anything about sex, not since making out with her senior year boyfriend in high school and letting him get her bra off. That was her last clear memory.
It was disconcerting, not knowing her sexual history. She’d been on birth control at the time of the fire, so she must have had an active sex life, but she couldn’t remember any of it.
“Well, what did he say?”
“Um, not much, really. I kind of bolted before we talked.”
Kit’s expression was sympathetic. “I know this is hard for you, and it has to be frightening to bump into people, especially men, who might know you better than you know yourself, but maybe he could help. Maybe if you talked with him, he could help you remember. Was he a member of the department?”
“Yeah, he was. We talked, and I left. I guess I, well... Last night was weird.”
“Talk to him if you get a chance. But make sure there are other people around, you know, the usual safety drill.”
Erin had been thinking the same thing. It was clear that there was something between her and the fire marshal, but the only one who could tell her what was Bo. But if they had been an item, why had he kept it secret until now?
“Or maybe it’s better if you don’t,” Kit said, changing gears. “Being with the guys so often at the firehouse could be a bad idea. You should be moving forward, not get stuck in the past.”
Erin couldn’t help the irritation that her sister’s comment spawned. “They’re my only friends. And they help. If I can get my memory back—”
“I think you have to face that you’re not going back to that job.”
“There’s a chance, if I can get my memory back—”
Kit shook her head. “I’m sorry, honey, I know you loved it, but it would be like starting from scratch, even if you do remember.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Being with them gives you false hope. Keeps you from finding something new. I don’t know why you’d want to go back to being a firefighter anyway. It nearly killed you.”
Kit’s features tightened with fear and grief, and Erin’s heart softened. The nurses said that her sister had been by Erin’s bedside every day at the hospital. Some nights, too, when things were iffy about her condition. Kit had also taken care of their mother when she was dying, and ran her own business while she was helping Erin.
Erin tried to imagine what it was like for people having to deal with her accident and her amnesia, but she was also tired of feeling responsible for it. She really didn’t agree with her sister about hanging out with the guys—it didn’t give her false hope. It gave her some sense of stability. But she could understand her sister’s fear.
“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.
