and leave her behind without at least trying to help her get her life back, too?
Glancing up as other members of the office arrived, chatter floated in the door, and he smelled fresh coffee brewing. He got up and closed his door, needing to think.
He could potentially help Erin remember—maybe remember everything.
Was he really considering this?
He knew going in this time that there wouldn’t be any real reconciliation. They were still “over”— nothing would change that.
He had other plans, too—the job in Virginia, for starters. He’d be here for only a bit more than two months if he got the job. Less than that, since he’d have to give notice and get someone new to take his place here. His assistant was good, but he wasn’t ready to move up the ranks yet.
So that meant Bo had a month or so, just a few weeks, to cram in as much of their relationship as he could in hopes it might make her remember everything.
He just had to keep straight on the fact that he wasn’t in it this time for the long haul, either. It could be just sex for him, too. A way to get her out of his system?
Closure. A way to leave things better between them than they had before.
It was also a chance to close the case, potentially. Maybe a way to save lives, since they still had an arsonist out there who hadn’t been caught. What if Erin had seen something or experienced something that could help them find the person who had set that fire?
He knew he was talking himself into it, but it also made sense. There were more good reasons to take this risk than not to.
He’d already dialed her number, his phone in hand. He was surprised when she picked up.
“I thought you might not answer.” He didn’t bother with hellos.
“I didn’t see who it was first.”
She sounded tired. And cranky. For some reason, that made him smile. She was always irritable when she woke up.
“I’m sorry I was hard on you last night. Listen, I want to help if I can. Are you free today?”
“Say when.”
Her tone perked up considerably. Bo closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. This felt surreal.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off. I’ve got a few things to sort out. How about if I come by your place later?”
“Okay. I’ll be here.”
She sounded nervous now, too. “I just want to talk, Erin. We need to talk about it...first.”
“Okay. Sure. Good.”
With that, they hung up. Bo packed his stuff and told his assistant to beep him only if there was an emergency. Then he was in his truck, thinking about Erin, wondering if he wasn’t making a huge mistake. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that, and probably wouldn’t be the last.
* * *
KIT STOOD BY the door as she scanned the crowd for Erin’s cap of shiny brown hair. It was hard to see anyone in the busy crowd.
This was the place Erin usually went with her firehouse buddies, so it was where Kit figured she’d find her, but as far as she could see, there was no Erin.
She was doubly disappointed, having needed the break from her own worries. The past few months had been a balancing act, largely tilted to the side of addressing Erin’s crisis, which was obviously huge. But Kit had her own troubles to deal with. Her flower shop wasn’t doing well these days, especially with more people ordering flowers online or getting them at the local grocery stores. She’d been holding it together for a while, but she’d lost one large account last month, and the individual, walk-in business was dropping off, as well. In addition, getting good quality, fair-trade flowers wasn’t inexpensive.
Most consumers had no idea that the flowers they bought at many outlets or online at discount prices were often shipped from countries that farmed the blooms and exploited local people, usually women, to keep prices down and their own profits up. Kit supported only fair-trade suppliers, and that meant her flowers were more expensive than most, but she included fair-trade information with all purchases. She found that her customers liked knowing they were buying flowers that truly helped people instead of subjugating them. But in the troubled economy, being socially conscious was often a luxury.
All Kit had ever wanted to do was run a flower shop. It was her dream, since she was a little girl. She’d worked at one as a teenager, and she used the college money left to her by her parents to open the shop. It had done very well for a while. But times changed, and the internet, recessions and so forth were taking their toll on her dreams.
The shop and her sister were the most important things in her life—they were all she had left. Erin was young when their father had died of a heart attack at the station. He was always at the station. Lived and died there, literally. Their mother was gone eight years later. Erin had been out working on a fire when their mom passed away.
Sometimes Kit felt terribly alone. Feelings weren’t always fair, she knew. Sometimes, they were awful, confusing things. Like when the doctors said that Erin had amnesia and very likely wouldn’t return to firefighting.
Kit had, on some level, been happy about that. It wasn’t very supportive, she knew that, but she was so happy to have Erin around again. But Erin seemed drawn to her old crew, even now. It was like an obsession.
As Kit moved farther into the room, she didn’t see her sister anywhere, and her heart sank. So much for sister time.
“Hey, you’re Riley’s sister...the flower lady.”
Kit turned toward the voice and found a very, very large man standing near a tall table, where he put a beer down and faced her, holding out his hand.
“I’m Hank Aaron.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“No joke, that’s my name. Dad was a huge baseball fan. Mom couldn’t talk him out of it. And you’re...Kathy?”
“Kathleen, but everyone calls me Kit.” She smiled, looking into his face. “Now I remember. We met at the hospital a few times. I’m sorry. I was not quite coherent back then.”
She reached out, shook his hand, which swallowed her own. His skin was rough, but not in an unpleasant way. It scraped on hers and made her wonder how those large hands would feel on the rest of her.
“Understandable. That was hell, waiting to see what would happen, especially for you. Families have it hard in our business. Can I get you a beer?”
She paused, took her hand back. She was going to say no. It was obvious Erin wasn’t here, but then Kit changed her mind as her stomach rumbled.
“That would be nice, thanks. I might order something to eat, too. I was hoping to meet Erin here, but I guess she had other things to do.”
Hank frowned. “Do you think she’s okay?”
“I do. She shut off her phone. She does that
