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“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 unsure how much to share. Last night he’d shared way too much.
“With other people, like at the bar? Or together?”
Jill, the server, returned with Erin’s drink, which he’d ordered on reflex. His error became apparent when she stared at the Coke and lime twist for a second, then met his eyes knowingly.
“How long were we together?”
He blew out a breath and leaned into the table, clasping his hands tighter around the mug as he rested forward on his elbows.
“Almost a year. Maybe I should have told you, but...it didn’t seem like it would help. You’d been through enough, and I had a job to do. It didn’t seem...relevant.”
Her eyebrows flew up, and he saw the pulse fluttering hard in her throat. She reached for her soda and took several long draws.
“Are you okay?”
She put the glass down with a sigh. “I’m fine. After last night, maybe even before, I knew, on some level, but I never thought...a year? I thought it might have been a hookup or something. There’s nothing that would have made me think we were dating, not for that long. No pictures, nothing in my home of yours... nothing.”
“You weren’t sentimental that way, and it was over well before your accident. You probably took me off your email and phone. But you were also paranoid about anyone finding out, so we didn’t really text or stuff like that. Anyway, last night is what I wanted to talk to you about. I was out of line. I’d had too much to drink. No excuse, of course. But I wanted to know if you were going to file a report.”
She frowned. “What kind of report? I’ve already given my statement, and I don’t know what else—”
“A report on me, Erin. A complaint. About what happened.”
“Why? Why would I do that?”
She sounded completely shocked, and he withheld his response as their food arrived. He wasn’t really that hungry. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, no wonder, and he’d been a growling bear all day. His supervisor wanted Erin’s case closed, unsolved. There were others he needed to get to, but he couldn’t let this go. Someone had hurt her; Bo was going to find out who it was, if he had to do it on his own free time.
Whatever it took.
“I shouldn’t have done what I did. I know I’m all but a stranger to you, no matter what happened in our past. I had no right. I wanted to apologize, but I understand if you want to report it. I wanted to let you know that.”
Unlike him, Erin dug into her spaghetti dinner as though it was going to save her from certain death. She’d always been a stress eater. He didn’t know where she put it, she was so slim, but she always could eat as much as any of the guys on the crew.
He thought this would be easier. A professional meeting in a public place. He wanted to apologize and reassure her it wouldn’t happen again. Still, she had a right to file a formal report. She was a member of the department, and he was investigating an incident in which she was involved. It was his job to let her know she had recourse.
“I don’t want to file a report, and you have nothing to apologize for. I wasn’t exactly fighting you off.”
She said it with a wry grimace, as if more disappointed with herself than him.
“Erin, if I scared you, or hurt you—”
“You did neither.” Her eyes met his squarely, but then she looked down, unsure again. “I think though...I need to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you have a mark or a scar on your hip? Almond-shaped?”
Bo’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, I do. A birthmark. You were always fascinated with it for some reason.”
She fumbled her fork and nearly dropped it to the table as she caught her breath, audibly.
“Erin?”
She closed her eyes briefly, as if working up the courage to speak. Her newly short hair sharpened the angles of her cheekbones and her jaw, making her green eyes and her lips look larger and lusher than before. He’d always loved her long brown hair, wrapping it around his fingers and watching it fall over her shoulders, but he liked this new look, too. How it exposed the long lines of her throat and the curve of her neck and collarbone. The soft flesh of her earlobes.
He grabbed for his coffee, his mouth gone dry.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
She lifted her gaze to his, and this time, it wasn’t veiled or distant, but...there was a spark. She almost smiled.
“I remembered that, then. I remembered...after last night. I remembered a lot. It wasn’t just dreams.”
He straightened, his attention sharpened. “About the fire?”
She shook her head. “No. Not that. Things about you. Like the birthmark. I wasn’t sure if I was just fantasizing, but...apparently it was real. I can’t believe that I really remembered something!”
Paired with the astonished joy in her expression was the rosy flush of embarrassment. Because she was saying that she had remembered them together— having sex. Naked, since she remembered the birthmark.
“You dreamed about me?”
He didn’t mean to ask aloud, but she’d taken him a bit by surprise, too.
Erin nodded. “Before last night, even. And I keep seeing...apples. Like there were apple trees somewhere.”
“We made love in a local orchard once.”
“Wow. That’s...daring.”
He smiled, warmth stirring at the memory. “We were alone. Except for some cows in the next field, but they didn’t care.”
“Where was our first date?”
He couldn’t look away from her. “Here.”
“Oh.”
The significance of her choosing this place tonight seemed to dawn on her.
“So we broke up?”
“We did.”
“Amicably?”
“Mostly, I guess.”
He said the words tersely, unsure what else to say. He wasn’t about to lay himself open for her again, not like this. Not to satisfy her curiosity.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did we break up? Did we have a fight? Did one of us cheat? Step out?”
He shook his head at the unthinkable, but somewhere in his mind, he wondered. They did have some arguments, because he knew—he sensed—that she was keeping something from him over the month or so before their breakup. He never found out what, but he knew she hadn’t been seeing someone else. He was sure of it.
“No, no cheating.”
“Then what?”
Everything inside Bo tensed. He really didn’t want to peel the scab off this wound, but he could respect her need to know.
“I wanted more, you didn’t.”
“More of what?”
“More of you, more than we had. More than you were willing to give.”
“What does that mean?”
“We were seeing each other in secret. We called it being discreet, since we worked together, but when I wanted people to know, you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“You were worried the guys would start to treat you differently. Act differently. That it would affect your work.”
She was quiet for a few seconds, her lips turning downward.
“So this was my fault?”
“It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just ran its course.”
“Wow, okay. Well. So we’re...friends?”
“No. Last night should have shown you that we could never be friends. We...avoided each other. It was easier when I moved up to arson.”
She nodded, looking uncomfortable again.
“I should go. I wanted to apologize and let you know I know I was wrong, and that you had the right to report what happened. It won’t happen again, if that helps.” His tone was formal, stiffened by painful memories and desire he couldn’t do one damned thing about.
He took out his wallet and paid their check.
“If you do remember anything else, about the fire, that is, please call the office. You can always talk to my assistant if I’m not in.”
He slid out of the booth, heading toward the door. Heard her feet on the tile floor behind him.
She caught up with him outside, before he reached his truck.
“Bo, wait. Please.”
It was still light out as she followed him down the side of his SUV, between the cars.
He turned on her. “I can’t do this, Erin.”
He might as well be honest about it.
“Do what?”
“Talk about old times. Tell you all about us. It’s over, and I can’t see the point in raking back over it.”
“I hurt you.”
She stated it like a fact, emotionless, studying his face. Bo didn’t want her to see, but he supposed that horse was already out of the barn.
“It’s fine. Over and done.”
She put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. For that, and for making you go back over this. From my dreams...from what I can remember, what we had was deep. I can feel it, even if I can’t remember it all.”
Erin stepped in closer. She didn’t look nervous anymore. She was...something else. Bo froze, keys in hand.
“I don’t want to play games. Or be played with,” he said, his voice almost desperate as he swallowed hard, his breath short.
“I don’t want to play games, either. I want to remember,” she said softly, and leaned into him, hips first. Her hands drifted up his torso, over his chest to his shoulders as she pressed in closer.
A second later she was kissing him, and everything else fell away. She dropped gentle, easy kisses along his jaw, as if getting to know it again, mapping him with her lips. He swallowed, turning his face away, trying to get control. To resist. So she burrowed into the hollow of his throat, her tongue darting out to taste him.
He groaned her name. She sighed against him.
“If we parted ways, why does this all feel so right?” she asked, nibbling her way back up to his mouth.
Bo dropped his keys as his arms came around her, and his resolve crumbled, reversing their positions and pressing her into the side of the SUV, his mouth hungry for hers.
He slid one hand up under her blouse, his palm settling over her breast. She arched into the touch, an invitation. If this kept happening, they were going to end up naked in the back of his truck as they had the first time they’d left this diner and couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
“History repeating itself,” he muttered before he sank into another kiss. So much for good intentions.
