“Aiden is in charge of wine,” Erin said. “Might need a lot of it because it’s my first try at a turkey.”
Chapter 35
By Noah’s estimation, it was okay to drop by Erin’s place an hour after her shift ended. Their understanding when he left yesterday morning was they’d meet on Black Friday. Since his fake birthday, he’d found himself at her place any night she wasn’t at the firehouse.
Weirdly, his texts had gone unanswered, but Thanksgiving was often busy. Their staff was at a pretty low ebb going into the holiday season. Haskell and Noah shared the duties of East and West section chiefs yesterday, with Noah staying on call as backup. He’d ended up ferrying an endless stream of tiny calls. Cordova had worked on admit and subbed in at 15 as captain, a spot he’d held decades ago.
Trying not to act stalker-like after waiting forty minutes, Noah got out of his personal SUV in front of Erin’s rowhouse. An errant tennis ball hit his shoulder. He dug it out of the snow as an orange dog anxiously circled him.
“Yours, ma’am?” Noah asked politely, handing the ball to the owner, a vaguely familiar blonde woman with dark circles under her eyes.
“It’s Taussig’s… The dog’s. I’m Angela.” she supplied.
That confirmed she was Erin’s doctor neighbor. “What an interesting name for a dog.”
“It’s a long story.” She yawned. “Sorry, thirty-hour call.”
“I know the feeling, Doctor,” he said.
Angela became guarded. “Do you work at the hospital?”
“No. I’m visiting a friend.”
“Is this friend the brown-haired firefighter lady or the bearded neurology resident?” Angela asked.
“Brown haired firefighter lady?”
“Yeah, it’s that awkward thing where you forget somebody’s name and you can’t ask them.”
“I see.” He got it. While he didn’t have thirty-hour calls, he was burning the candle on both ends. Thanksgiving had left him in the difficult position of having to shift manpower from one shift to another. Cordova had agreed to come up with a new solution for Firehouse 15 by the end of the weekend. It was the least he could do if Noah was doing his firehouse tours.
“You’ve been sitting there for a while. Does she know your visiting?” Angela asked.
“We usually meet after ten. I guess something came up.”
“And she forgot how to text? Are you good friends?” Angela asked the relatively personal question to a virtual stranger.
Noah opened his mouth and closed it again. “It’s complicated.”
She laughed bitterly and threw the ball. “I get it.”
Noah rechecked his watch. It was almost eleven. Why hadn’t Erin messaged him?
“There she is.” Angela pointed.
Erin parked out front, unusual for her. She had two armfuls of groceries and an unhappy look. There was a tightness that reminded him of the day she’d seen that ridiculous interview.
“Let me help?” he offered with Angela and the dog following him.
Erin shook him off and said in a voice that wasn’t hers. “Honey, if you could maybe unlock the door so I can carry this stuff in. The keys are in my front pocket, honey,”
Noah fished around for the keys, trying to keep his expression neutral, since he was almost publicly groping her.
“I’ll leave you ‘friends’ to it,” Angela observed and went to her door, closing it firmly behind her.
“Honey?” he asked when they entered.
“Did you tell her you were my ‘friend’?” Erin set the groceries down. The sharp edge on her tone was alien to him.
