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Okay, yes, that sounded bad. Their plans had nothing to do with second thoughts or fruitless attempts to put the relationship back together or any of those ill-fated-relapse things people did, but she wasn’t at liberty to say, I’m meeting Roger’s boyfriend for the first time, before they leave on a romantic vacation together. Roger would kill her. He lived in fear of his friends and family finding out the truth.
She hurried through the door and then paused to lock up behind them. “We’re still friends.” Thinking that sounded defensive, she laughed and shrugged. “I mean, he’s my best friend.” Nope. Not better. “Strictly friends,” she added lamely, and hustled out of the building so she wouldn’t volunteer any more information that made her seem like a lost cause.
“Far be it for me to come between friends. Friday night.”
He didn’t pose it as a question, which should have offended her, but the fact that he sounded so sure after the way she’d just rambled about Roger made her want to say yes. “Um. Okay. I’m free Friday. Actually, I’m likely free most days, seeing as how I’m probably fired.”
He took her hand as they exited the building and held it while they walked across the square to where they’d parked in front of the fire station. “When I was a rookie, my chief caught me and dispatcher Francesca Giordiano doing a stop, drop, and roll in the back of the heavy rescue vehicle. I was off shift, but the truck wasn’t. I got some shit duty for a while, but I didn’t get fired. You won’t, either.”
Affection bloomed in her chest like a big, bold sunflower. Sweet of him to try to reassure her. She nudged his shoulder. “Francesca, huh?”
“Si.”
“Whatever happened to good old Francesca?”
“She’s my friend. My best friend. We have plans tomorrow night.”
She slugged him in the arm. “You have no idea where she is nowadays, do you?”
“No clue. Last I knew she was married with a baby on the way. She dropped me for an EMT. I guess the back of the ambulance affords a lot more privacy than the back of a fire truck.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it. All I know is the firehouse and the doctor’s office offer none whatsoever.”
He laughed. They stopped in front of her white BMW convertible—a gift from Roger when he’d extended their engagement, yet again. He’d given her a getaway vehicle when she’d wanted a wedding ring, for God’s sake. How could she not have known? She rested a hip against the car and looked at Josh, and all thoughts about Roger flew from her mind. She couldn’t think past the blue-green eyes fixed on her.
“Tell Ellie I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Coming to the office tonight was my lamebrain idea. Oh. Ha. You’re sorry she interrupted.”
“Yep. But you don’t have to put the rest out there for her. I’d stick with the ‘Josh is sorry’ part, and leave it at that.” He looked as sorry as Satan at a sinner’s convention.
“Why do I feel like I’m headed to hell in a handbasket?”
“What? Because of tonight?”
“Because of everything I’ve done since I met you.”
“Still only adds up to one night of sin, Bluelick. No need to start flameproofing your handbasket.”
There might have been a teensy part of her determined to torture him for making her wait, or maybe she really had stepped onto a slippery slope when she’d rolled her cart over to his in Boone’s and propositioned him, but whatever the reason, she leveled what she hoped was a suggestive look at him and said, “No. I met you a couple months ago. I’ve committed several…um…let’s call them solo sins since then.”
His grin never faltered, but he leaned nearer and his eyes seemed to darken. “Maybe you should confess. I hear it’s good for the soul, and as an emergency responder, I’m trained to take confessions. You never know when a citizen in distress will need to unburden herself.”
“Well, there’s this recurring dream I have when I’m alone in my bed.” She paused to let the image sink in. “In
my dream, I’m so hot, I’m practically burning up. I take off all my clothes, run an ice cube over my skin, but try as I might, there’s nothing I can do to cool down. There’s a fire inside me, and I can’t put it out on my own. And then, magically, you appear—a big, strong firefighter—and you plunge right in and…save me.”
He stared at her like a man in need of a cold shower.
“So”—she drew back and pulled her phone from her handbag—“I’ll hear from you Friday?”
Instead of answering, he took her phone from her, called up her contacts, and entered his number. Then he handed it back to her. “You’re going to call or text me tomorrow and let me know what happens with your job.”
Slick of him, putting the ball back in her court. “I really do like the job. Hopefully if I beg forgiveness, she won’t fire me.”
…
Melody let herself into the office a good half hour early, dropped her purse on the reception area counter, and then beelined to the exam room to erase any traces of last night’s indiscretion. No need to leave any reminders for Ellie. Her boss no doubt already had quite a picture indelibly imprinted on her brain.
