Anger boiled inside him, not at her, but at the situation. How many times, and in how many ways, could he lose this woman?
“’Night, Marshal.” She slipped out the door into the evening without another word.
Bo took a long breath and returned to his table and sat, throwing back the last of the Scotch he’d ordered, cursing under his breath as he tossed a few bills on the table. He told himself to let her walk away.
“Everything okay, Bo?”
It was Hank, one of the crew. Bo had worked with them for five years after leaving the New York State Police, with his eye on the job he had now as an investigator. It was his ultimate goal—the only thing he ever wanted, except for Erin. He had to forget about her, especially when he was investigating her case.
Not that it was getting anywhere. She was the only witness to what had happened, and she couldn’t remember a thing. It had been arson, though they had very little evidence to pursue. Whoever had set the fire had known what they were doing. Bo worried that they’d do it again if he couldn’t catch them, but he had four other cases waiting on his desk.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
He dismissed Hank, heading for the door. He didn’t feel like sitting around making small talk, and he could get drunk in his own living room.
It was a warm June night, and he walked out into the parking lot where the faint smell of cigarette smoke hung in the air. Picnic tables lined a patch of worn grass that ran down the side of the lot, where folks could hang out or smoke. Or find a few minutes alone, away from the crowded bar.
He looked for Erin, hoping she hadn’t driven after how much she’d been drinking. He heard a noise, and spotted her at the edge of the lot. She was sitting at one of the tables.
“Erin?”
She turned, startled. “Oh, hi. Again.”
“What are you doing?”
He saw her shrug in silhouette. “Just getting some air. Seeing how many constellations I can remember and wondering for the one millionth time why I can tell you exactly where the Big Dipper is but I can’t tell you anything really important.”
He nodded. “Well, you know the doctors said—”
“I know what they said,” she cut him off. “It was more of a rhetorical question.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Why are you out here?”
“I was leaving, but I’m glad to catch you before you left. You know, back in the bar...the dancing. That probably wasn’t a great idea.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“You might go back to the job, or at least to the department, someday. You don’t want to change the way the guys see you, and believe me, they’re looking at you differently these days.”
She shrugged a second time.
“I don’t care. And it’s really none of your business.”
She’d gotten up from the table, intended to walk past him. He caught her arm gently, stopping her. He left it there for a beat, then dropped his hold.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Joe’s family. They want you investigated. Including any past reports or problems.”
“Why?”
“They’re grieving, looking for explanations.”
“So they think they can pin his death on me?”
“They can’t, and their accusations are unfounded, we know that. But it would be advisable to keep, well, a lower profile, I suppose. Until things are settled.”
Now he was talking stupid, too. It was the truth about Joe’s family, but none of this would impact the investigation. They had no grounds, medical or otherwise, to think that Erin was at fault.
Bo was telling her what he needed to tell her. For his own reasons. It might not be right, but that was something different altogether.
“Screw that,” she said flatly, trying to step around him.
The night air lifted her scent. It surrounded him, mixing with the sweet evening aromas of fresh grass and recent rain. Though distracted, he reached out, stopping her again. He knew he shouldn’t.
“So now what? What next?” he asked.
They were close. She looked up at him, and the irritation in her face melted into something else. Bo didn’t know if it was his imagination or wishful thinking, but heat arced between them the way it had back in the bar.
The way it always had.
“I don’t understand this,” she said, stuttering a bit, unsure. Rattled.
“What don’t you understand?”
“Why I― What this thing is with you.”
“What thing would that be, exactly?”
“Why I feel...when we... I don’t know you. I don’t even think I like you much,” she said, shaking her head. “But when I look at you, I...”
She remembered. Or some part of her did.
He took her chin between his forefinger and thumb.
Bo’s heartbeat was racing, too. He should walk away, call a cab and leave. He should let this be.
But he wasn’t going to.
“I think I know what you mean. I feel it, too,” he said, his voice a whisper.
Her eyes widened, and without warning she turned her cheek into his palm. The light rub of her skin on his set his blood on fire, and sense evaporated. Everything was lost to the night except being close to her, finally. Bo wanted to be closer.
He put his hand at the back of her neck, bringing her forward until she bumped up against him. Then they were kissing, and it was the first time he could breathe in months.
He thought it would be a quick, gentle kiss, but need came on so hot and sudden it knocked all the sense out of him. Her arms wrapped around him, and she was pressing into him as she always had, as hungry as he was.
Bo pulled her in tighter, parting her lips and kissing her as passionately as he could. Still it wasn’t enough.
She was breathing hard as he slipped his hand along the small of her back, up under the edge of her shirt. Her skin was cool from the night air.
He explored her throat before working his way up to her lips again, but she pulled away, as if suddenly realizing what was happening. At the same time, voices rose in the lot behind them.
Bo couldn’t think straight. He reached for her again.
“Erin, don’t—”
She pushed past him and ran down the sidewalk.
He stared after her, cursed under his breath, some little thread of clarity returning.
What had he just done?
If his place in the investigation had been iffy before, he’d just made it a lot worse. No one knew about his previous relationship with Erin—they’d seen each other in off-hours, never telling anyone. If the department found out now, well, things could get complicated. At best, they’d take him off the case. At worst...well, he didn’t want to think about it.
They could think he was covering for her. They could think he was ethically compromised in any number of ways.
As he strode through the lot, reaching for his phone with slightly shaking hands, he couldn’t help one thought that kept going around in the back of his head as her scent and taste still lingered. No matter what happened, it had been worth it.