Hell.
“Brittany,” he said cautiously.
She tipped her head toward the glass. “Blackrocks, right?”
“Good memory.”
She gave him the slow smile he used to think promised everything. “I know what you like.”
Good old Britt. Never subtle when it came to sex. It washot when they were both nineteen. He waited for the old stir of lust or amusement and felt mostly…nothing. Kind of a surprise, that.
“Thanks for the beer,” he said.
Her eyes widened and then narrowed slightly. Like his lack of reaction surprised her, too. “You look good.”
“You, too.”
It was true. She was a little thinner. Blonder, maybe. Definitely more tan. She slid into the opposite seat and reached for his glass. “Mm.” She licked her lips.
Joe frowned. “Don’t you have…”
“Better things to do?” She aimed another of those smiles at him. “Maybe.”
“…work,” he finished.
“I’ve always got time for you, babe.”
Not always. Not when she left for Vegas. Not for most of their brief marriage, when there was always another shift, another friend, another distraction more worthy of her attention. But the old anger wasn’t there anymore, either.
“I’m waiting for somebody,” Joe said evenly.
“Ooh, a date. Should I be worried?”
“Yeah, no. Since we’re not married anymore.”
She raised penciled brows. “You’ve changed.”
He glanced at the door. No Anne. At the table full of firefighters, Bruno raised his glass in a silent toast, and Mercy slugged his shoulder. The others were nudging, chuckling. Probably taking bets on the odds he’d leave alone tonight.
“What do you want, Britt?”
“I’ve missed you, Joe. I thought we could…catch up. Remember old times.” She stroked a finger down the condensation on his glass. “Make new memories.”
“We’re not getting back together.”
“Not with an attitude like that.”
He didn’t smile.
She put her hand on his arm. Her fingers were wet from the glass. “Relax, Joe. I know we didn’t work out. Not long term. But we were good together, right? I figure as long as I’m here…”
Here, on the island. Here, at loose ends. Here, until something better came along.
Something he’d thought buried burned, an ember under the ashes.
The door opened and Anne blew in like a wind off the lake, a swirl of energy, a blast of cool air.
“Hey. Oh, hi.” Her wide gaze darted between them. “You’re Brittany.”
