Forget Me Not (Golden Falls Fire Book 4)

by Scarlett Andrews

  Derrick stood up suddenly. “Whatever you say.”

  What does that mean? she almost asked. But she just wanted Derrick gone. “Okay, well, I need to get back to work.”

  She turned to her computer, and he closed the door behind him just a little too hard.

  12

  “Hey, Sean, you’ve got a fan club up there.”

  It was Josh Barnes talking, and the “fan club” he was referring to was none other than Melissa. Sean’s ex-girlfriend stood at the second-level observation window that overlooked the racquetball court, looking all sexy-fit in leggings and a midriff top, with her hair in a perky ponytail. When Sean glanced up, she waved at him cheerfully.

  What the hell? Sean thought. Will she never go away?

  “I’m starting to think she’s stalking me,” he said, turning from Melissa and moving to set up for the serve. But he was tense now and didn’t want her watching him, so he paused to wipe the sweat from his forehead and take a swig from his water bottle.

  “You didn’t seem very thrilled to see her at the airport yesterday,” Josh said.

  “I wasn’t.”

  Sean didn’t like the presumptuous display of affection she’d shown, and he didn’t believe her over-the-top concern for his safety was sincere. She was his ex-girlfriend, not his girlfriend, and the way she’d assaulted him with kisses felt like a dog marking its territory. After he’d extricated himself from her embrace, he’d reminded her as politely as possible that while he appreciated her support, they were just friends now. Not dating. And she couldn’t show up and kiss him and act like a girlfriend. Melissa had left in a pout, and Sean had hoped that would be the end of it.

  “Do you think it’s a coincidence she’s here?” Josh asked.

  “I sure hope so.” The alternative was too annoying to consider. “It’s Monday. She’s supposed to be teaching.”

  They were at the Golden Falls Fitness Studio, an upscale gym Josh had joined recently, both because Hayley took spin classes there and because he had more time on his hands after giving up his years-long pursuit in the world of dog sled racing.

  “Let’s pretend she’s not up there,” Sean said.

  “Works for me.” Josh prepared to serve. “Nine-all.”

  It was Sean’s third time playing racquetball with Josh, and he’d been glad for the invitation. He and Josh had never hung out much one-on-one. Josh was focused and deep, somewhat of a friendly loner while Sean was social, but he figured maybe Josh had seen in him a competitive equal. Each fought hard for every point they got, and both thrived on the aggressive, intense nature of the sport, smashing into walls and leaping absurd lengths to keep the ball in play.

  Josh wasn’t one for frivolous talk, and Sean enjoyed their in-depth conversations. Whereas Cody was a live-and-let-live guy who didn’t probe much into Sean’s life, Josh did probe, and Sean found himself sharing things about his life that were more than surface deep.

  Including his thoughts about Melissa.

  Or not so much Melissa in particular, but the stream of women like her that he’d dated over the years who were fun for a while but just didn’t hold his interest over the long-term.

  There’s just got to be something more, he’d said.

  Josh had assured him there was. When you find the right one, you’ll know, he’d said. I’m proof of that.

  The men battled for their third-match victory, and the game went to Josh. They shook hands on the court, and Sean glanced up to see Melissa was still watching. She waved, indicated she’d be down to see him, and then disappeared.

  “Let’s make a run for it,” Sean said, not even joking.

  They didn’t, though, and as they exited the court, Melissa came bounding down the stairs to greet them.

  “Hey, guys! Who won?”

  “Josh did,” Sean said. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

  “I’ll leave you two,” Josh said. He nodded at Sean. “See you at the station.”

  “Good game. See you, man,” Sean said, dreading being left alone with Melissa. Given the bright, flirtatious look on her face, he assumed their running into each other was not a coincidence.

  “I took a personal day,” she said. “The little rug-rats are wearing me down. What are you up to now? Want to grab lunch or catch a movie?”

  “Nah, I have plans.”

  He could tell she wanted him to say more, but the less she knew about his life the better.

  “Call me sometime?” she asked hopefully.

  He almost always parted ways amicably with women, but after the previous day he thought maybe Melissa was confusing amicable with inappropriate public displays of affection, and so it was best to sever ties.

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “Look, Melissa. I wish you the best, but it’s over between us. I’ve moved on, and you should, too.”

  “I wasn’t trying to get back together,” Melissa said, although the downturned corners of her mouth told Sean the opposite. “I just wanted to hang out, seeing as we bumped into each other and all. It seemed like a sign.”

  “Sorry, it wasn’t.” Sean couldn’t help feeling bad for her. “Listen, Melissa. You’re a great woman, and I’m sure you have plenty of guys asking you out. Say yes to one of them, and I guarantee you’ll have a lot more fun than you ever had with me.”

  “You know who asked me out the other day?” She smiled. “Evan Taylor. The new manager at the Moondance Theater.”

  “I hope you said yes.”

  “I said I’d think about it.” Her coquettish smile indicated she was giving Sean one last opportunity to be the man in her life.

  “You should say yes,” he said.

  “All right, then.” She nodded like she finally got it. “I will. Take care, Sean.”

  “Take care, Melissa.”

  He let her be the one to walk away, and as he watched the back of Melissa’s ponytail bouncing away, he hoped this had been the last such conversation they’d need to have.

  On Wednesday, trivia night at The Salmon Eye, Sean happened to be on shift at the fire station. It was too late to put in for vacation time, so he’d been forced to use sick time, under which mental health and family issues technically fell. He’d built up quite a bit of both vacation and sick time, so he didn’t feel too bad about it.

  “You took time off for trivia night,” Tom Steele noted as both the Engine One and Ladder One crews sat around the kitchen table on Wednesday afternoon. The ladder was in charge of cooking that night, and Josh Barnes and Troy Garrett were busy chopping vegetables.

  “I said I’d go,” Sean said as casually as he could.

  “And that has nothing to do with that pretty red-headed scientist?” said Dylan Hart, who was sitting next to his fellow engine firefighter Cody.

  “How’d you—?” Sean stopped and rolled his eyes. Sometimes firefighters were worse than old women when it came to gossip.

  “Who’s this hot redhead?” Troy called from the kitchen island.

  “Nobody,” Sean said.

  “Does Chief know you’re taking sick time for a social event?”

  Irritation flared, and not just in Sean. Cody cut a glare at Troy, and Dylan snorted. Sean hoped Troy Garrett was never promoted to captain because no one would want to be on his crew; he would write someone up just to make himself look good.

  “Troy, how about you worry about chopping vegetables and let me worry about my crew,” Jack Barnes said smoothly. “And remember that mental health time off is encouraged by department policy.”

  “I wish Maddog were here,” Sean said under his breath to Cody for the second time that week. Troy was “temped” in Rick Madsen’s spot during his deployment and would go back to a different shift and crew when Rick returned.

  “Can’t come back soon enough,” Cody said. “When is it, early May?”

  “I think so.” Just another month and a half. “I’ve been planning some good pranks in retribution for what I’m sure he’s gonna dish out on us.” Maddog was f
amous for his practical jokes, and a year in Afghanistan had probably given him new ideas.

  The station doorbell rang. Sean got up, glad for the interruption of any discussion of his love life. At the same time, his phone buzzed with a text.

  “Hey guys, Code Nine,” Sean said. Code Nine meant that a civilian was on the premises, and a warning for the firefighters to abstain from any wrestling, profanity, or nakedness.

  “Is it your new girlfriend?” Dylan teased.

  “No, it’s Claire Roberts. Although she’s definitely attractive if you like older women,” Sean said.

  “She’s also a city councilwoman, and thus our boss,” Jack reminded them. “Why are you so lucky to get a visit from Claire?”

  “Talking about her annual donation to the youth hockey league,” Sean said.

  Jack clapped a hand over his chest. “After my own heart. That’s great of her.” Jack’s girlfriend Elizabeth helped coach the girls team.

  Sean went to the door and invited Claire into the living room. In her mid-fifties, she had blonde hair turning silver and wore a fur-trimmed dark blue parka, which set off her sharp blue eyes that crinkled attractively at the corners.

  She gave him a quick hug. “I do love a good hug from a firefighter.”

  “Happy to do my civic duty.” Sean took her coat. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “So you need money,” Claire said, always one to get to the point.

  Sean laughed. “Let’s have a seat.” He directed her to the living room chairs.

  “The league is growing,” he said once they were settled. “We added five players to the team this year.”

  “That’s great!” Claire said.

  “It is,” Sean said. “Two of them even take the public bus from the reservation to make practices, over an hour each way.”

  “I’m glad they find it worthwhile.”

  “Me, too,” Sean said. “They love it, although their families don’t have the money for equipment.”

  “We certainly don’t want that to stand in the way,” Claire said. “Those boys are lucky to have you and Andrew as their coaches.”

  Andrew Blake was the boy’s hockey head coach and a retired firefighter who owned the Golden Touch Barber Shop. He and Claire served on the city council together, and Sean had long suspected a mutual attraction between them. Then again, both were known to be friendly flirts, and maybe that’s all it was.

  “We’re lucky to have the support of the community to back us up,” Sean said.

  “Which brings us to today’s business. I’m happy to contribute. How much do you need?”

  Sean offered his thoughts.

  Claire agreed without hesitation. “And I’ll add ten percent on top of that.”

  Sean was always genuinely grateful when someone was generous without an agenda. “Thank you. Seriously. The league wouldn’t exist without you, Claire.”

  “I’m just glad it’s so popular!”

  “If it keeps growing like this, we may need to have tryouts next year,” Sean said.

  “I’d prefer expanding to two teams,” Claire said. “You fellows have been doing an excellent job, and I don’t want anyone excluded who wants to participate. Sometimes sports are all a kid has. And you and Andrew have transformed the team into something as good, probably better, than even the public schools offer. All with fundraising and donations and your own sweat. You know I admire that.” She gave him a teasing look. “Any chance of you adding your own players to the team someday?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I saw Melissa Kristoff welcome you home the other day.” Claire’s eyes sparkled. “She seemed to be in a baby-making mood.”

  Sean groaned. “Let’s not go there.”

  “Ooh.” Claire grimaced. “Trouble in paradise?”

  “We’re not together,” Sean said. “She showed up and made a scene, and I don’t know why, but I’m not happy about it. We’ve been broken up for months.”

  Claire laughed. “Hots for the hero, as Andrew calls it.”

  “She did start out as a fire groupie,” Sean said, remembering back to how they’d met in a bar. Melissa and her friends had hung around the group of firefighters all night long; there was a type of woman who did that, and she and her friends were that type. “But no. If I add my own players to the team someday, it won’t be with Melissa.”

  “Got anyone in mind?”

  “Nah,” Sean said, although he could have said yes, or at least maybe. “There is a woman who intrigues me, but I don’t think I’m her type. I’m not sure I can keep up with her intellectually, to be honest. She’s brilliant, and I’m . . . well, I’m me.”

  “You’re no slouch in the intelligence department,” Claire said. “Especially when it comes to emotional intelligence. And besides, your old grade point average is not what women care about.”

  “Oh? What do they care about?”

  “Women want a man who can make them laugh and who makes them feel beautiful. If you can do those two things, that’s all it takes, Sean.”

  Sean considered her advice. “I think can do both those things.”

  “Good,” she said, giving him a quick wink. “Then get on it.”

  By the time Claire left, it was nearly five o’clock, and Sean’s replacement arrived, a guy from C-shift who’d signed up for overtime. Not wanting any more remarks from Troy Garrett or questions from the rest of the guys, Sean sneaked away to the engine bunkroom, changed quickly, pressed the auto start button on his truck key fob to warm up the engine, and headed out.

  13

  He’s here. Oh, my gosh, he’s here. And he’s gorgeous.

  Annabelle blinked a few times to make sure it wasn’t a wishful fantasy, that it really was Sean Kelly pausing inside the entrance of The Salmon Eye. She was sitting at a table with the rest of the David Attenborough’s Pants trivia team: Lottie, Derrick, and Cameron, another glaciology grad student. Although the dive bar was dark and crowded, it was unmistakably Sean. Her “Sean Kelly Radar” that she’d honed in high school was in working order . . . and he was scanning the room.

  Looking for her.

  She hadn’t expected him to show up to trivia night, not after that bubbly woman threw her arms around him and kissed him with such passion at the airport—but there he was, looking more handsome than a man had a right to be, with his broad shoulders, trim haircut, dark wool sweater, and those swoon-worthy green eyes.

  “Ooh, look.” Lottie nudged her. “Your Ken doll’s here.”

  Annabelle nudged her back, feeling a blush take hold. “He’s not a Ken doll.”

  And he’s not mine, as much as I’d like him to be.

  “He’s got a Ken doll body,” Lottie said. “Wave to him, dummy.”

  Annabelle’s heart pounded as she waved, wondering if she was actually dreaming, and her nonsensical sleeping mind had made up this scenario in which her high school crush finally took an interest in her, finally sought her out. That kind of thing didn’t ever happen in real life, did it?

  Ignoring the sullen look Derrick gave her, Annabelle stood. Her ankle was getting better by the day, and while she wouldn’t be dancing anytime soon, she’d finally been able to fit into regular boots and was glad Sean would get to see her not as an injured victim but as a woman.

  His face lit with a smile when he saw her, and as he began to make his way across the bar to their table, the butterflies in Annabelle’s stomach fluttered their wings in nervous delight.

  “Do Ken dolls have dicks?” Lottie asked. She’d had a few drinks by then, which tended to bring out a curious crudeness.

  Annabelle gave her friend a scolding look. “No.”

  “I bet Sean’s got a big dick. A damn-near heroic dick. And I bet he knows what to do with it. If I were into guys, I’d be all over that. But since I’m not, I think you should be all over that, Annabelle.”

  Annabelle could tell Lottie said it mostly to piss off Derrick, and it worked. He pushed back from the table and str
ode off toward the jukebox as if his life depended on choosing some particular music, not that he’d ever put money in it before.

  “You’re the strangest lesbian I’ve ever met,” Annabelle said. Cameron Doyle, the other grad student, nodded in agreement. “And that wasn’t very nice to say in front of Derrick.”

  “Why not?” Lottie said. “Why is it any worse to say in front of Derrick than to say in front of Cameron? Derrick has no claim on you anymore.”

  “It’s obviously still a little raw for him,” Annabelle said. “And we should be sensitive to that.”

  She looked at him over by the jukebox, puzzling not for the first time about the surprising emotions Derrick had shown in the past few days. On that Monday after the official end of their unofficial relationship, he’d locked himself in his office for the whole day, as mopey as Annabelle would have predicted. But the next day, his entire demeanor changed, and she didn’t know what to make of it.

  Derrick brought coffee for her, splurging on the largest-size toffee nut whipped cream white mocha, and he didn’t even make his usual crack about it being a sissy drink. He later invited her to lunch, which she declined, and then he brought her a bottle of ibuprofen, displaying too late the type of thoughtfulness she would have welcomed at any point in the year they’d sort-of dated.

  He arranged to leave his office at the same time as her and insisted on carrying her backpack for her as she made her way across the snowy parking lot. He offered to give her a ride, but she’d already ordered a ride-share specifically so she could refuse if he offered, having suspected he might because of his sudden friendliness.

  Still, he waited with her until it arrived and made small talk by asking how her research was going. She told him she had all the data she needed and now it was a matter of finishing up some literature review and writing the transitions to connect the finished pieces of her dissertation.

  Derrick’s thesis defense was due at the same time as Annabelle’s, but there was only one professorship open at Alaska State’s Department of Glaciology and Climatology. It meant that Annabelle and Derrick were in competition for the same job after they earned their PhDs, and the loser would have to find a position at some other university in some other city. It wasn’t something they talked about much; Annabelle’s attitude was may the best scientist win, and she knew that Derrick assumed it would be him. But that day, he praised her ambition and openly admired her dedication.