Unforgettable. Samantha Hunter

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.