Hometown Hero

by Anders, Robyn

  “Okay, first of all, I want to take complete responsibility for what happened at the meeting. Cynthia lost her balance and I caught her, but it was me holding onto her, not her holding on to me.”

  Heather made a waving motion with her hand. “I know that. Cynthia is my friend. She wouldn’t betray me. But that is so completely not the point.”

  “Help me out here.”

  She laid her hand on his biceps. “I’m not sure who you are any more. Russell is pragmatic, interested in making money and in building a better Shermann. Russ was more of a romantic. He’s less selfish than Russell, but he’s also more caught up in the now. He doesn’t have Russell’s head for the future, for planning, for creating a new city here, but he cares more deeply about things.”

  “Interesting. But I’m Russell, not Russ.”

  Although it was interesting. Because whatever Russ was had to come from Russell. Perhaps it was a part of him that hadn’t developed because he’d always been too intent on the future, on his plans. Perhaps it was a part that had come to the fore when Russell had needed that particular set of skills and talents because of the injuries that had so nearly ended his life.

  Heather squeezed his arm. “You think you’re Russell because you remember being Russell and you haven’t fully integrated the memories of your time as Russ. But you’ve changed. And part of that change is that you want Cynthia. And not me.”

  She hadn’t cried when she’d been beaten in the Miss America competition. She hadn’t cried the time they’d gone skiing and she’d broken her ankle. She hadn’t even cried when her mother had died and her father had retreated into the bottle for three months. But a tear glistened on one of her long blonde eyelashes and then splashed onto her cheek.

  “Of course I want you. Everyone wants you.”

  “You can’t have it both ways, Russell. Since there are two of you in there, I suppose you think only seems fair that one of you gets me and the other gets Cynthia. That’s supposed to be every guy’s fantasy, right? Two good-looking chicks?

  “Well, that isn’t going to work. It wouldn’t be fair to Cynthia and it wouldn’t be fair to me. You figure out what you want and you let me know. But don’t wait too long because, you know what? You’re right. There are a lot of guys who think I’m a pretty appealing package.”

  She turned toward the door, then spun around, took the oversized diamond from her finger and dropped it on the magazine stand. “You decide what you want to do with this, too.”

  “I think you’re being a bit hasty, Heather,” he said.

  “Funny, I was just thinking I’d waited too long.”

  She didn’t slam the door behind her, but she closed it firmly.

  Russ picked up the ring. It was still warm from her body’s heat.

  Memories washed over him. The time he’d first seen Heather in school, dressed in a miniskirt that flaunted her incredible legs. He'd had to swallow hard even though he was an older, sexually experienced senior. The time she’d climbed out of the pool after setting the record for high school girl’s 200-meter breaststroke, her body glowing with energy and excitement, and shimmering with water. The first time they’d kissed. The first time they’d made love. The support she’d offered him when he’d started his investment business, including taking a mortgage on her entire department store business when he needed to meet a margin call on an investment that had taken longer to mature than he’d planned.

  He owed Heather everything.

  If she wanted to marry him, he certainly owed her that. And he wasn’t going to kid himself that being married to the most attractive woman in Missouri would be any sort of punishment—especially since she had been a wonderfully enthusiastic sexual partner.

  He sat down on is bed—and caught the faintest whiff of perfume. Cynthia’s scent. She’d been here, in his room, in his bed.

  The trace of a memory flirted with his brain. Cynthia gloriously naked. Had she really put her legs around his neck, or was that a fantasy?

  He burrowed his face into the second pillow on his bed and inhaled deeply.

  He owed his desire to Heather. He’d always loved Heather. But he couldn’t just manufacture that desire. His body wanted Cynthia, not Heather. And while Russell didn’t love Cynthia, couldn’t even remember the times they’d shared together, a part of him, the Russ part, had loved her. He owed something to her, too, didn’t he?

  Heather was right. He couldn’t have both women. Unfortunately, it looked like he was going to end up with neither.

  Chapter 14

  “I quit.”

  Andrew pulled his reading glasses up and glared at Cynthia. “Forget it. I can’t afford to give you a raise.”

  “I’m not playing games, Andrew. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Let me guess.” He pressed his knuckles into his forehead. “My powers are strong now. I see you falling down and Russell catching you. It feels as if he couldn’t keep his hands off of you even though Heather was watching.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “That’s amazing, Andrew. I’ve never heard of such a vivid psychic vision.”

  He chuckled. “I got six calls from members of the COC. According to them, you’re a headliner. One of them even shot me a photo from her cell phone camera.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Andrew. Heather is my friend and I’m destroying her life.”

  “What about your life, Cynthia? Don’t you think you deserve something for yourself.”

  “Of course I do. And I had something. I had a wonderful week with the most terrific guy in the world. The only problem is, he, well, died. At least he died happy, though. Did I tell you about the hot tub?”

  If she thought about it just right, the whole thing was almost funny. Of course, thinking about it right was the real challenge because mostly she wanted to cry when she thought of the way Russ’s eyes had changed, of how Russell had returned upset, disappointed with himself for stepping out on the one great love of his life.

  “You’re veering into the Too Much Information zone.”

  “Sorry. Anyway, I’m leaving town. Now.” She turned. Time to go.

  Andrew grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, leaving her wishing that she had a bit more of that mass she’d had when she’d been a roly-poly high schooler. “How many times did Russell hang onto you before he went off to the Middle East, girl? Come on, Cynthia, wake up and smell the coffee. The Russell you just draped yourself all over isn’t the same Russell who went away. A part of him remembers you. So, fight for him.”

  “You’re just full of clichés today, aren’t you, Andrew. Besides, you’re hardly the disinterested participant here. You want me to go after Russell so Heather will get mad enough to rebound your way. Nope. You’re going to have to fight your own battles, win your woman your own way.”

  She pushed him away, scooped up Gomer, and got out of the newspaper office. She’d had some good times there, enjoyed doing a job she was good at. Given the way newspapers were closing, or downsizing and relying more on wire copy, she’d be lucky to find another job like it. But even if she had to give up a career she loved, at least she’d be somewhere far away. She wouldn’t be forced to destroy the lives of two friends. Because she knew that Andrew wasn't completely wrong. A part of Russell did remember her. But it was his body, not his mind. And a body can’t be in love, it can only react to lust and desire.

  Although she had the hots for Russell’s body, it was Russ she loved. Sex with Russell wouldn’t do it. Even if he chose to respond to his desire rather than his intellect, she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with a man who haunted Russ’s body.

  She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the Jaguar sitting next to her parking place until she opened her door and Russell opened his right next to her, trapping her between the two cars.

  She stepped around him, but he caught her shoulders and turned her back toward him.

  She tried to shrug his strong hands away—this was getting to b
e a habit—but he held on.

  “Let me go, please. I don’t have anything to say to you, Russell, other than that I thought better of you than this. You’re engaged to Heather. Go exercise your charm on her. I’m sure you’ll be able to persuade her to overlook your wandering eye.”

  He shook his head. “You have something of mine.”

  Not his heart. If Russell even had a heart, it belonged to Heather. “What?”

  “My dog.”

  Well, that figured.

  “Nope. Sorry.” She scratched Gomer under his chin. “This dog belongs to my friend Russ. He’d want me to have him.”

  * * *

  Cynthia’s voice sent a frisson of desire through his body. He had plenty of memories of wanting women, but he had never experienced anything of this power.

  “What did you like best about Russ?”

  “I’m not going to talk about it with his killer.”

  “I didn’t kill him, Cynthia. Can’t you understand that? He could only have been a part of me, a part of my personality I needed when I was injured. When I was healed, the rest of me came back.”

  “Oh, hell, Russell. I know that. Now get out of my way and let me leave. Don’t worry, I’m moving out of Shermann. I won’t be around to mess things up for you and Heather any more.”

  She was leaving?

  The sense of loss practically brought him to his knees. “No.”

  She pressed her cool fingers to his face for an instant. “You know it’s got to be this way, Russell. Your body is reacting to me and Lord knows I react to you. That isn’t fair to Heather and it isn’t fair to you.”

  “Maybe you’re right. But what about what’s fair for you, Cynthia?”

  “Andrew said almost the same thing. Too bad. We can’t all get what we want. But listen to your head, Russell, not your libido. You know Heather is the right woman for you.”

  Did he know that? A part of him insisted on it, building on the memories of the decade Russell and Heather had spent together.

  But was he still that person?

  He had Russell’s memories, but that old Russell had been crazy about Heather. He wasn’t crazy about her. He liked her, admired and respected her, and certainly recognized that she had a sense of presence, of body and mind, that made her stand out in any crowd. But he didn’t want her the way he wanted Cynthia.

  “I’m not property,” he said. “You and Heather don’t get to decide which of you keeps me. I’m involved.”

  “You made your decision when you asked her to marry you.”

  “Wrong, Cynthia. Being engaged isn't the same as being married. Besides, I think Heather just ended the engagement.”

  She glared at him. “Then why are you wasting your time here? She’s got to be hurting. Get her back.”

  Only Cynthia would worry about another’s pain at a time like this. Which was one of the things that he admired about her, when it didn’t frustrate him beyond bearing.

  He closed the distance between them. “There’s something I need to do before I can decide what's right.”

  “You know what’s right. Go to Hea—“

  He cut off her outburst by pressing his lips to hers.

  He was taking a chance. Maybe Russ would return and all of his memories would be washed away like a weakened levy when the Missouri flooded. Maybe she’d reject him, call the cops on him. Maybe he’d learn that she wasn’t so special and would ruin his chances with both women. But he had no choice. He had to learn what Russ had found. Because, although he didn’t have access to Russ’s memories, he knew they were there, and they were real. Heather had been right. He wasn’t the old Russell anymore. He was someone new, someone who combined that earlier person with the person who had stepped in when he'd been needed, when the old Russell wasn't up for the job.

  Cynthia’s hands pushed against his chest and her lips hardened, but not for long. He teased at her lower lip with his teeth and felt her respond, her lips softening, parting slightly to welcome his tongue.

  It was all the invitation he needed. He deepened the kiss. He was committed now. Heather was no longer in the picture. He wasn’t sure he could persuade Cynthia to take him, a cheap substitute for the man she’d fallen in love with, but he intended to try.

  He almost froze when he realized what he’d just decided. He wanted Cynthia.

  She took advantage of his momentary hesitation and pulled away. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You have a physical thing for me but it’s really just a remnant from Russ. As long as I’m here, you’ll feel it and it’ll keep you from being happy with Heather.”

  “As long as I’m alive I’ll feel it,” he insisted. “I don’t remember everything you and Russ did, but whatever it was, it changed me. Think about this: since Heather and I became engaged, I spent six months fighting a horrible war where you never know where the enemy is, even who the enemy is, until they’re shooting at you. Then I spent more months rehabilitating in an army hospital. Then I came home and re-met you. I may not be Russ, but I’m not the old Russell any more. And the new person I am wants you.”

  * * *

  He wanted her. A part of Cynthia wanted to jump up and down and celebrate. Fortunately for her sanity, the more intelligent part took over.

  “Okay, I believe you. You wanted Heather and then you changed and now you want me. Maybe tomorrow you’ll want someone else. I don’t live like that, Russell. I gave my heart to one man, the only man I'll ever love, and losing him was the most painful thing I've ever gone through. I can't open myself up to that kind of pain again, I'm sorry.”

  Russell smiled at her.

  Man, she hated that. Hated people who thought they knew better than her what she really wanted, how she should live her own life.

  “Russ isn’t dead, Cynthia. He’s standing in front of you.”

  She pushed her hands over her ears. “Don’t lie to me, Russell. I can’t stand it.”

  He peeled her hands away as if she was a helpless baby. “I’m tired of talking past you, Cynthia. Russ is as much a part of me as the old Russell is. Because of what happened, because of you, I’m whole for the first time in my life.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t confuse lust with love, Russell.”

  This time he laughed. “I do lust for you, darling. I get so aroused at the sight of you that I can hardly stand. But I’m not a teenager. I know that physical desire is only one ingredient in a relationship. An important part, for sure, but only a part.”

  She tried to push past him again but it was pointless. The man was as solid as a barn.

  He grasped both of her hands. “Russ didn’t remember you, did he? He didn’t remember the way you spent all night working on the student body bylaws because I asked for your help, the time you dropped out of college for a semester so you could work with the crews that were doing reconstruction after the big Missouri River flood. Russ knew you were special, but he couldn’t remember why. I remember why. Russ wanted you, but I love you.”

  They both froze.

  “Don’t say it again, Russ. I’m not as strong as you think, never could stand to be teased.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant to say,” he admitted. “But you know what? I’m not sure what I thought I was going to say so I’m going to stick with it. The shadows of the physical memories that Russ left in me made me look at you in a new way, I’ll admit it. But I have a lot of memories of you, Cyn. Memories that go back to the chubby little girl with the big glasses who was always hanging around on the outside looking in. I wasn’t as nice to you as I should have been. More than anything, I wish I could change that. But I did notice.

  “Back then, I let my hormones control me. That and my need for acceptance and my plans to make money so my parents would consider me a success. I was too much of a coward to think about what you could mean to me. And Heather fit better into my self-image.”

  “Yeah. I can see how beautiful, rich, talented, and athletic would trump nerdy and fat.”

&nb
sp; He put a finger against her lips. “Stop it, darling. Time to adjust your mental picture. You were chubby. Well, guess what? Most of the girls you were in high school with, the ones with the perfect teenaged bodies, have lost those perfect bodies while yours has only improved. You had big thick glasses back then but that was all you could afford. Now, you’ve bought cute ones and you look great. The only one who still sees you as pathetic and unpopular Cynthia Meadows is you.”

  She reached into her car, pulled out Gomer, handed him to Russ and, while he was distracted with the puppy, ducked under his arm and dashed toward her apartment.

  “I need an answer,” he called after her.

  “An answer to what?”

  “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

  She hadn’t thought anyone would ever ask her that question, would have bet money that Russell would be the last person to ask.

  “Can I call you Russ?”

  “Hell yes. You can call me anything you want, as long as you agree.”

  A part of her wanted to say yes, to retreat from her responsibilities and simply grab onto joy. But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t be happy, even with Russ, if it meant that her friend would be miserable.

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  Hope and worry warred across his face as he caught up with her.

  “Don’t try to run away, Cyn. I’m not going to stalk you, but I want you to answer me, when you’re ready.”

  She owed Russell an answer, at least. Because he was right. She had developed her self-image when she’d been that fat, ostracized teenager. Since then, she’d embarked on a successful career, been a part of Shermann’s reconstruction, and made friends. Because he’d lacked his memories, Russ had been able to see her as she really was. Didn’t she owe it to his memory to see herself that way, too?

  “I said I’d have to think about it.”

  “I guess I’ll have to take that as an answer. Unless you’d let me do some more persuasion.” He touched the tip of his tongue to his lip and a frisson of desire went through her, so strong it nearly brought her to her knees.