Forget Me Not (Golden Falls Fire Book 4)

by Scarlett Andrews

  “Sean didn’t break my heart,” she said softly. “At least not on purpose. He just never noticed me, but he’s noticing me now!”

  Oh, honey, that’s so great! I’m so happy for you! That was all her mother should say. All Annabelle wanted her to say and needed her to say. But of course, that didn’t happen.

  “Didn’t he always date those cute cheerleaders?”

  Annabelle gritted her teeth. “He dated one cheerleader all throughout high school.”

  “But I just . . . mmm.”

  “What?”

  “I just don’t think he’s your type. I don’t think you’re his type.”

  Only a mother’s words could sting so much.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, what does he do for a living?”

  What does that matter? “He’s a firefighter. Why?”

  “A firefighter? Really?” Her mom sighed. “Annabelle.”

  “What’s wrong with being a firefighter? He’s the one who saved me when I fell into the crevasse! Firefighters are heroic! They’re awesome!”

  And they’re fantastic in bed—at least mine is!

  “I’m sure he’s a fine man,” Susan said after a pause. “But here you go hero-worshipping him again, don’t you see? You’re the one earning your PhD! He’s nowhere near your level. Does he even have a college degree?”

  Annabelle’s blood boiled. One of her mom’s biggest fears was that Annabelle would end up with someone as financially insecure as Annabelle’s father, who as a fisherman was dependent on the whims of the ocean. They always had fish to eat from the freezer, but it wasn’t always certain they’d be able to pay their heating bills in winter.

  “Sean makes good money, and I will, too, as soon as I finish my dissertation and get a position at a university.”

  “Well, what happens then?” Susan asked. “Or is he just an in-between boyfriend? Which is fine! There’s nothing wrong with that, I hope you know. Have a bit of fun with the firefighter and then settle down with a man who’s your intellectual equal.”

  “I’m hoping to land a position right here in Golden Falls.”

  “I thought you said there’s just one position available there. You don’t think Derrick will get it?”

  “Why would he?!” Annabelle couldn’t hide her exasperation. “My thesis, my research, is better! I’m the better candidate! You’re coming across as really hypocritical. First, you say Sean’s not my equal, and then you assume Derrick’s my superior. He’s not! Not in any way, shape or form. And Sean is a million times the man Derrick will ever be. I’m not looking for a man to support me financially, Mom. I’m looking for a man to love me. Really love me. And just because you might not have had that with Dad doesn’t mean I can’t have it for myself.”

  A long, uncomfortable silence followed Annabelle’s outburst.

  “I can see you don’t need my advice,” Susan eventually said, her voice tight and controlled. “I can see you think you have this all under control. Even though you have very little actual dating experience.”

  “I can handle my own love life. I really can. And I do want your advice, but sometimes it just makes me . . .”

  “It makes you what?”

  You get under my skin in the way only a mother can.

  “It makes me doubt myself.”

  “You’ve always doubted yourself, except where your science is concerned.”

  Maybe before, but not anymore. What she had with Sean was real. It wasn’t based on a fantasy from when she was a teenager. It was real and true and honest in its own right, and she didn’t doubt it at all.

  Not after last night.

  Not after this morning.

  Not even after the scene Sean had made a few short hours ago. He wouldn’t have done that unless his feelings for her were real.

  “People change, Mom.”

  “Do they?” Susan said. “So this isn’t just some fantasy like all the ones you wrote in your diary about how Sean would one day magically take notice of you, and you’d go from being the ugly duckling to the beautiful swan and life would be perfect and happy ever after?”

  The words stung.

  “Ugly duckling? Gee, thanks.”

  “Honey.” There was kindness in Susan’s voice. “Those were your words, not mine.”

  23

  Sean felt cautiously optimistic that he and Annabelle were back on track as they arrived at the home of Peter and Linda Eubanks for the Saturday night dinner party. They’d held hands the whole drive over, and Annabelle had even leaned her head on his shoulder for part of the drive. They hadn’t talked much about what had happened at the lab on Thursday other than Sean asking her, “Are we good?” and she answering, “We’re good.”

  She smiled at him as they waited for Peter and Linda to answer the door. “Our first dinner party together. I’m glad you thought to bring wine.”

  Sean had brought a bottle of cabernet from the Denali Winery. He looked around at the wood-shingled home with a deep front porch, set back from the street via a long driveway. Several vehicles were already parked outside. “They’ve got a nice place here.”

  “They do,” Annabelle agreed. “And they like to entertain.”

  “How many people usually come to these things?” he asked.

  “Oh, a half dozen or so. Not too many. And not all glaciologists,” she added with a smile. “I promise no shop talk.”

  “I don’t mind shop talk,” Sean said, and it was true. He liked seeing Annabelle in her element, excited about her science. She lost her reserved quality and became animated and full of wonder, eyes sparkling and hands moving. He thought she must be a great teacher for her undergraduate classes.

  A large woman opened the door. She had an attractive face, native Alaskan features, and wore lots of jewelry that adorned her ears, neck, and hands.

  “Annabelle!” she exclaimed, pulling Annabelle into a warm hug.

  “Hi, Linda,” Annabelle said. “This is Sean Kelly. He was on the Search and Rescue team that saved us up on Denali.”

  Linda turned to Sean. “Sean, I can’t thank you enough for getting my husband off of thin ice and bringing him back to me!”

  “Happy I could be there to help,” Sean said. He was next for a hug, and it was a big, earthy, full hug at that. He liked Linda right away. She had an authenticity he found appealing.

  “Peter!” she called as they stepped inside. “Annabelle and Sean are here!”

  Linda helped them with their coats and led them through to a large room with a two-story stone fireplace and a view out into the trees, where evening shadows gathered. To the right was a kitchen where three men stood, drinks in hand. One was Peter, and he came right over, extending a hand to Sean.

  “Great to see you, Sean! Welcome!”

  “Thank you, sir,” Sean said. “I’d like to apologize for the ruckus I made in the lab the other day.”

  “Don’t give it a moment’s thought,” Peter said. “Eric Miller and Don Yazzie are already here. They’ll want to say hi.”

  Sean knew Eric Miller as the half-owner of the North Star Café, along with Rebecca, his sister. Rebecca did the baking and ran the kitchen, while Eric managed operations.

  After Sean and Eric shook hands, Eric introduced him to the other man. “This is my boyfriend, Don Yazzie.”

  “Good to meet you,” Sean said, shaking his hand.

  Annabelle, meanwhile, received hugs from both men.

  “Don is a weaver,” Peter said. “He’s done guest lectures for my wife’s classes at the university.” To Don and Eric, he said, “And Sean was one of our rescuers when we ran into trouble on Kahiltna Glacier.”

  The doorbell rang, and Linda brought in a thin, middle-aged woman who had a no-nonsense face but a warm smile that changed it entirely. “Most of you know Brenda Hopper,” Linda said.

  “We glaciologists may not take over the world, but we tend to take over my dinner parties,” Peter said to Sean.

  Dinner was ready
soon after. Sean sat between Annabelle and Don. Wine was poured, and dishes were passed around. Linda had made a rich venison ragout served over fragrant rice.

  “You always put my cooking to shame, Linda,” Eric said.

  “Oh, psh! I only know a few recipes. I just know them well.” Linda chuckled, though, obviously pleased. “So, Sean, you’re the first firefighter we’ve ever known! What is it like?”

  “Well, most of our calls are actually medical in nature. We get fires once in a while or technical rescue-type situations—people falling in the river, car accidents—but overall it’s more minor injuries, cardiac events, seizures, that sort of thing.” He didn’t mention the bullshit calls, the faked chest pains from the jail and restless leg syndrome at three in the morning. That was the kind of thing he only complained about to his crew or his closest friends.

  “You’re an EMT, then?” Don asked.

  “Paramedic. Every crew has two paramedic firefighters and two EMT firefighters, but we all work together on the medical calls.”

  “And the Search and Rescue crew?” Linda asked.

  “That’s volunteer—you don’t have to be a firefighter to join—but most of us have technical training and like to put it to use if we’re needed.”

  “And you were sure needed that day,” Peter said.

  “Cheers to Sean!” Don said, raising a glass.

  “Cheers!” the others agreed, raising their glasses.

  Sean felt at home, even as the conversation shifted to scientific research and he was reduced to listening as the conversation bounced between Peter, Brenda, and occasionally Annabelle, talking what seemed like another language made of Scrabble words and strong opinions on “data” and “models.”

  “But aren’t all the grants in glacial climatology right now?” Linda asked.

  That started the table on funding of the sciences and, with Linda and Don, the arts. When a friendly debate started about the role of patronage in history, Sean felt way out of his depth. It was a rare situation for him to feel like he had nothing to contribute to the conversation, and especially to have difficulty following it. Instead, he focused on eating the delicious food and drinking the wine, wishing suddenly that he wasn’t driving that night.

  “Sean,” Annabelle said, gently touching his elbow.

  “Mmm?” He looked up and discovered that everyone was looking at him.

  “Linda was wondering how you keep up with Annabelle,” Peter said with a wink. “Her brain works miles ahead of the rest of us.”

  “I can’t keep up with her, I can only distract her,” Sean said, and everyone laughed.

  Next to him, Annabelle blushed.

  “I hope she doesn’t bore you with glaciology too much,” Peter said.

  “I wouldn’t mind if she did,” Sean said. “Although I hope she wouldn’t be bored having to explain things in layman’s terms to me.”

  “Believe it or not, you guys, I do have interests outside glaciology,” Annabelle said, smiling.

  “I don’t believe it!” Linda said. “Sean, be a good influence and broaden our girl’s horizons.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. He already thought Annabelle’s mind was broad enough, maybe too much so for him, and while he smiled and nudged her shoulder with his own as the table’s conversation moved away, he couldn’t help but feel it had hit too close to the mark. She did need someone who could keep up with her intellectually. She wouldn’t be happy otherwise. He wasn’t sure he was up to the task.

  It wasn’t that he was intimidated by her intelligence. No, that was the fire in her that had first attracted him. It set her above and apart from all the other women he’d ever known . . . that, and the vulnerability and passion hidden beneath her rational exterior. While other men may have touched her mind, he was certain that none had yet touched her heart, and he wanted to be that man.

  But what if the key to Annabelle’s heart was her mind? And could she really fall in love with a blue-collar guy who didn’t speak the language of academia?

  Then he realized what he wanted her to do. Fall in love.

  He drank the rest of the wine in his glass. Well, shit, he thought. This is a first.

  And despite the mind-blowing sex they’d had a few nights ago, despite him mostly holding his own at this dinner party, he had the feeling of standing on cracking ice. One wrong move and down he would go.

  24

  “That was fun,” Annabelle said, feeling cozy in the passenger seat of Sean’s truck with her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. They’d just left the dinner party and were driving to the Sled Dog Brewing Company for a nightcap. “Aren’t Peter and Linda nice?”

  “They really are,” Sean said. “You’re lucky to have him as your advisor.”

  “I know I am. Both of them—they get me.” She remembered her mother’s misgivings about Sean in their recent phone call and pulled her scarf a little tighter. “So much more than my parents.”

  “It must be nice to be able to talk about everything you’re interested in, your research and all that, without having to explain the basics,” he said.

  That was when Annabelle detected a note of something in Sean’s voice, something she couldn’t put her finger on but seemed like a carefully phrased sentence. “I hope we didn’t talk too much science,” she said.

  “No, no, you didn’t.” He reached over and squeezed her knee reassuringly. “And even if you had, I wouldn’t have minded. Like I said at dinner, you can talk about whatever you want with me.”

  “Linda has actually forbidden Peter from talking in-depth glaciology at home,” she said. “To keep their marriage intact, she says.”

  “If there’s hope for an artist and a scientist, maybe there’s hope for a firefighter and a scientist,” Sean said, glancing at her.

  Annabelle wanted to blurt out that yes, yes there was hope. But he’d said it in the context of that other word, marriage, and that put her into a wild spin. It was something she hadn’t dared to think about. But echoes of her conversation with her mom still reverberated in her head, which had reminded her all too clearly of the way things used to be.

  In the end, she said, “There’s hope.”

  Sean beamed at her. It was his pure, dazzling, make-her-go-weak-in-the-knees smile. It was hard to think straight at all when he did that.

  They arrived at the Sled Dog a few minutes later and parked on the edge of the lot; the brewpub did brisk business even in the off-tourist season. They walked across the snowy pavement hand-in-hand. A blond woman was on her way out, giggling and grabbing onto a bulky, bearded man.

  That’s her, Annabelle thought. Melissa. His ex who threw herself at him at the airport.

  Her heart raced as she saw Melissa look up and recognize Sean. It raced even faster when she gave Annabelle what felt like a critical once-over. Without intending to, Annabelle gripped Sean’s hand harder, which caused him to look first at Annabelle and then, following Annabelle’s gaze, at his former girlfriend. His expression changed to one of exasperation.

  “I can’t get away from her,” he muttered, and he seemed to be bracing for an expected onslaught.

  “Sean!” Melissa chirped.

  “Melissa!” Sean’s cheerfulness sounded forced.

  Annabelle looked at her more closely. Melissa wore bedazzled jeans, high teetering boots, and a metallic down jacket. Her makeup was thick and her hair curled in glamorous waves. Despite wearing her own embellished jeans (albeit with no sparkles), a snug new sweater, and her new stack-heel boots, Annabelle felt inadequate in comparison. This woman’s look screamed fun-loving party girl.

  “Already moved on from me?” Melissa pouted, seemingly uncaring of her own date, whose arm she still held. She gave Annabelle a meaningful nod.

  Will we do introductions? Annabelle wondered, hoping not, although would it say something if they didn’t?

  “It’s been months since we broke up, Melissa so, yeah,” Sean said, nodding at Melissa’s date in silent greeting.
“That’s how it works. Have a good night.”

  Sean guided Annabelle forward past the other couple, his body language showing eagerness to escape.

  “Sorry about that,” he said once they were inside the pub. “You can see why she wasn’t a long-term prospect for me.”

  Annabelle stared at him. There it was again. The promise, the hint, of long-term. “She was pretty,” she said carefully.

  “I guess, in a conventional way. She’s not beautiful like you.”

  Annabelle felt herself blush. Sean’s voice in her ear, his hands taking her coat and brushing against her neck, his intoxicating nearness gave her pleasant shivers across her skin. She felt the electric buildup of sex between them and had half a mind to suggest they skip the bar altogether and head right home.

  But it was good to be out with him, too. To be proud of the man she was with. It was a new feeling, and she liked it.

  They sat at the bar. Annabelle ordered the “Melt-Out Märzen,” one of the seasonal varieties, while Sean ordered a different seasonal brew called “Hibernation IPA.”

  Annabelle raised her glass when it arrived. “To the thaw.”

  “To the thaw.” They clinked glasses. “I noticed it this morning. The ice is starting to growl on the river.”

  “How do you sleep during that?”

  “It’s great. Like white noise.” Sean leaned in closer. “You’ll see.”

  She raised her eyebrows suggestively and crossed her arms, which had the effect of plumping up her breasts. She smiled to see how Sean noticed her attempt to spark his fire. “I will, huh? When?”

  She had always loved Sean’s green eyes, and she loved them even more now that they were filled with a combination of lust and amusement. “Pretty darn soon if you keep that up.”

  “Keep what up?” she asked innocently.

  Sean sipped his beer and then leaned in to whisper to her. “Reminding me what lovely breasts you have.”