The Naked Remedy

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The Naked Remedy Page 8

by Vivien Dean


  “I’m glad you have someone to support you when I’m not around,” he said. “Will I get a chance to meet her?”

  “That’s a guarantee. She’s demanded first inspection rights.”

  He laughed. “Then I better be on my best behavior.”

  “She’s going to love you.”

  “She’s not the one I really want to impress.”

  My heart choked in my throat. “Two more days.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  With all his work responsibilities, we didn’t have another chance to speak before I left. I received a late night text on Monday, with a countdown clock and a smiley face, but after that, it was radio silence. I didn’t even get a text on the drive to San Francisco, letting me know he was leaving L.A.

  I wanted to call. I knew I couldn’t. To say I was grumpy was an understatement.

  Dez helped. She played navigator for me. She chattered nonstop about all the places in San Francisco we should see, as if we were going to be there for six weeks instead of six hours. She played her favorite music, then let me share some of mine without judging me for my pop tastes.

  Dez was a godsend. She kept my brain from imploding. I’m not sure what kind of mood I would’ve arrived at SFO in if she hadn’t been there.

  We parked in the short-term garage and hiked our way inside. Arrivals was in the middle of all the baggage carousels, but according to the information board, Fisher’s plane was running late. It wouldn’t land for another twenty minutes. My anxiety twisted into brand new knots. Not the easy to undo square knot. Oh, no, my stomach was a mess of constrictor knots, the nearly impossible kind Dad used to store things in the shed. The only way to open those was with a knife.

  I was never going to make it.

  “Come on.” Grabbing my arm, Dez started hauling me toward a coffee stand near the doors. “I’m dying for a mocha.”

  The last thing I needed was caffeine to make me even more jittery, but I let Dez buy me a bottled water before finding seats that gave us a view of the escalators.

  “He’s going to love you.” She licked at her whipped cream. “And if he doesn’t, he’s an idiot.”

  I didn’t have the energy to argue with her. Now that we were actually here, it was getting all too real. I was going to see Fisher. He was going to see me. No more hiding behind a computer screen or in my room. For better or worse, my life was never going to be the same.

  “Plane’s landed.”

  Dez startled me out of my head, as much because of what she said as her quiet tone. It took a moment for her words to actually sink in, but when they did, I jumped to my feet.

  “Be right back.”

  I bolted for the bathrooms on the far wall without looking behind me. This was my last chance to make sure I looked okay, that I didn’t have sesame seeds stuck in my teeth from my burger at lunchtime, that the hair I’d fussed with eight hours ago retained some semblance of style. Though I’m sure Dez would’ve said something if I’d asked—or even if I hadn’t—I needed to see with my own eyes that Fisher wouldn’t be meeting a freak.

  The reflection that greeted me in the restroom wasn’t as bad as I feared. The way my eyes glittered looked more like excitement than nerves, and the sweater and jeans I’d specifically chosen not to get wrinkled from hours in the car had held up their end of the bargain. Even my teeth looked fine. Fisher had seen me look a lot worse. This was one aspect I didn’t have to panic over.

  I was more in control when I walked out, even at the sight of more people coming down the escalators. Dez still sat at the table, but her gaze kept jumping back and forth between the new arrivals and the bathroom I’d disappeared into. When our eyes met, she relaxed and gave me a thumbs up.

  I positioned myself off to the side, so I’d have a good view of everyone before they reached the bottom. So many questions bounced around my skull. Would he see me first? Would he recognize me? Would I recognize him? Pictures and video were entirely different than real life. What if he’d gotten a haircut since I last saw him? Or was wearing sunglasses? What if he walked right by me and neither one of us recognized each other?

  Then there he was. And all my doubts fled.

  He was near the top of the escalator, dressed in jeans and a striped polo that stretched tantalizingly across his broad chest, with a lightweight messenger bag hanging from his left shoulder. He’d shaved this morning—we’d videoed enough for me to know how quickly his beard grew when he didn’t—but the hair on his arms did nothing to hide his muscles, and the peek I got at his open collar stole my breath.

  Oh, yeah, attraction was not going to be a problem on my end. At all.

  As his gaze swept the waiting crowd, I straightened and lifted my hand in greeting. The motion caught his eye, and the joyous smile that erupted in my direction shattered the last of my fears. This was Fisher. There wasn’t a disingenuous bone in his body. When he said he was excited about this meeting, he’d meant it. I was a fool to ever try reading it differently.

  We moved together as he came off the escalator. I had daydreamed how this moment would play out numerous times, everything from handshakes to awkward silences to the one outlandish scenario where he dropped everything he carried to catch my face in his hands and kiss me. Now that time had overtaken my fantasies, I didn’t even think as I lifted my arms for a hug.

  Fisher did the same. He wrapped around me as I did him, and we held on while the world passed around us.

  Turned out, I was taller than him by a couple inches, so I bent my head a fraction to breathe him all the way in. The scent of his cologne and a tinge of sweat emanated from his skin, and my mouth immediately watered. It was too soon for a kiss, but damn did I want one. The rest of my body was interested in a lot more, too. I had to pull away before I embarrassed myself and poked him with something that wasn’t my finger or grabbed onto something he’d rather I didn’t.

  “How was your flight?” I asked when we pulled apart. I shoved my hands into my pockets before they turned traitor on me.

  “Short, thankfully. We got delayed taking off because of a back-up on the runway.” His grin widened. “Part of me can’t believe you’re really here.”

  I had a momentary sense of panic. “I texted you this morning that we’d left. Didn’t you get it?”

  “Oh, yeah, but that’s not what I meant. It’s still all a little surreal for me.” He glanced around. “Where’s Dez? I thought she’d be on guard already.”

  “Finishing her coffee.” Fisher didn’t have any hand luggage other than the bag slung over his shoulder. “Your flight’s coming in on carousel three. I’ll grab Dez so we can get your suitcase.”

  The three of us had a few minutes before the alarm rang to announce the luggage coming through. I let Dez go at it while I hung back. Fisher didn’t seem to mind the interrogation, but most of it was fairly innocuous anyway. Most of her questions were about his work and what he’d thought of Los Angeles.

  When Fisher had his bag, we headed toward the exit. That was when I noticed the limp for the first time. Fisher hitched the smallest of fractions when putting his weight on his right leg. He was still chatting with Dez like nothing hurt, but that didn’t mean anything. Shit. I should’ve thought about it before parking so far away. He shouldn’t make it worse with more walking.

  “Why don’t I get the car and bring it around?” I said as we stepped outside.

  Fisher frowned. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Actually, I’d love the chance to talk to you without Noah in earshot,” Dez said. I could’ve kissed her. Whether she understood my motivation for bringing the car to them or not, she was saving my ass here. She pointed to a bench. “We’ll wait there for you.”

  It took ten minutes for me to get the car, pay, and circle around to pick them up. Dez stood first when she spotted the car, but hung back when I hopped out to open the trunk for Fisher.

  “I’ll call you at six to tell you where to pick me up in the city,” she said.

/>   “Wait.” That hadn’t been the plan. “It was your idea to come.”

  “And I’ve done my due diligence.” She shooed us away. “Go. Have fun. And keep your ringer on so you don’t forget all about me.”

  With a wink and a wave, she was gone, leaving me and Fisher standing next to the car.

  “What did you two talk about while I was gone?” I asked.

  Fisher smiled. “Family secrets. Now you heard the girl. Let’s go have fun.”

  Chapter 10

  “Where to?”

  I took it slow as I pulled away from the curb. In spite of all our discussion, Fisher had never told me where exactly our second date would be. I hadn’t pressed. The surprise was part of the fun, or at least, that was what I’d thought before seeing him in person.

  “I was afraid you were going to ask me that,” he replied with a laugh.

  I refused to pay attention to my stomach’s sudden pitch sideways. “Why? Did something happen?”

  “You could say that. I had all these plans about going out to the Embarcadero for some sightseeing and seafood, but now that I’ve got you all to myself, I kind of want to keep it that way. So I’m torn. Do I stick with the original plan where we’ll probably have a lot of fun but the hours fly by and then we have to say goodbye? Or do we find someplace quiet to go instead where we can focus on the time we get with each other without any outside distractions?”

  “Are you asking my opinion?” I said carefully.

  He smiled at me. “As long as you don’t think it’s breaking our rule of who picks what.”

  The rules meant nothing to me. Fisher did.

  “Someplace quiet.”

  “Then let me get the directions.” His fingers flew over his phone. “I found this place when I was looking for ideas, but I thought it might be too weird for a second date.”

  “But it’s okay if we want quiet?”

  “It’s a park. It’ll be perfect for us.”

  I couldn’t resist teasing. “Because we’re weird.”

  “I prefer the word ‘unusual.’” He gestured toward the road in front of us. “Just drive. You’ll understand when we get there.”

  He directed me to the highway and north toward the city, but apparently, his “unusual” park was outside Berkeley on the other side of the bay. It gave us plenty of time to talk, though when I asked about how his work had gone, Fisher changed the subject back to me. His questions were light, his jokes plenty, but more than once, I caught him staring wistfully out the window, his thoughts somewhere else other than in the car.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind,” I said. We were in the middle of San Francisco, on our way to the Bay Bridge that would take us across the water. “The exit for the Embarcadero is up ahead.”

  Fisher frowned. “Why would you think I’ve changed my mind?”

  “You seem…distracted.” If something was wrong, I wanted to know now rather than later. He’d been too attentive for me to think it had something to do with me, but that didn’t mean my head didn’t go there anyway. “Is something wrong?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Since when am I the easy one to read?” But his voice held no condemnation, just an amused resignation that I’d caught him out. “Nothing’s really wrong. It’s just…work stuff.”

  Hearing it wasn’t me wasn’t the relief I needed it to be. Fisher obviously didn’t want to talk about it, so by all rights, I should let it go. But whatever it was, it was eating at him. I’d be a pretty bad friend if I didn’t help him through it.

  “Did something go wrong?” I tried.

  “No, everything went great. That’s the problem.”

  “How is that a problem?”

  His hesitation was a sign of how difficult this was for him. What right did I have to push him like this? But before I could tell him to never mind, he said, “They offered me a promotion. I had to turn them down.”

  But Fisher loved his job. “Why?”

  “Because it means relocating, and I’m not ready for that.” With a sigh, he leaned his head against the seat. “I’m well aware of what a hypocrite that makes me. That’s why I wasn’t going to mention it. I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

  As far as I was concerned, he wasn’t a hypocrite. He was a man who’d gone through a huge ordeal and was still trying to rebuild his life. What was so wrong about needing to cling to the familiar in order to get through it? He hated being alone. That was enough reason to turn it down.

  “That’s never going to happen,” I said. “If it’s not the right job for you, you shouldn’t take it. End of story.”

  He shifted his gaze to look at me. “What if I told you the job was in California? Would you still be so supportive?”

  “Yes,” I said automatically, though the new information deflated my enthusiasm a little. It would be nice to have less distance between us, so we could have a real chance at having a future together. But it didn’t change my support for his decision. “You have to make the choice that’s good for you. That’s what matters.”

  “Except…” His voice went soft. “I want to think we matter, too.”

  How I could’ve ever doubted what we had, I had no idea. This was the Fisher I had fallen for, the emotionally open, honest, and thoughtful man who now sat at my side. The fact that he took my breath away was a bonus.

  I reached over the parking brake to clasp his hand in mine. “We do. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But I’m new in your life. Your family isn’t. Trust me, I get that.”

  His thumb stroked along the side of my palm as he gazed down at our linked fingers. “It means we’re stuck being long distance.”

  “But we’re still together, and that’s what matters, right?”

  He startled me when he suddenly lifted our hands and pressed a kiss to the back of mine. His lips lingered for a moment on my skin, long enough for tingles to start tickling their way up my arm and for me to start wishing I didn’t have to concentrate on the crazy San Francisco traffic. When he lowered our hands again, the look he gave me was devoid of the struggle I’d seen earlier, as warm and resonant as ever.

  “Thank you,” he said. “How did I ever get so lucky having such an insightful boyfriend?”

  My cheeks went hot. “Is that what we are?”

  “It’s the best word I can come up with. What do you think?”

  Only one thought was bouncing around my head. “It’s perfect.”

  * * * *

  Fisher’s surprise outing turned out to be on a peninsula north of Berkeley called the Albany Bulb. “Apparently, it’s just called the Bulb, though,” he explained as I drove over the narrow road leading to the park area. Compared to the foliage I was familiar with up north, it wasn’t nearly as pretty. The ground was broken and barren with low scrub mottling the landscape like an old man’s patchy skull. It was far from deserted, though. Several cars passed us as we entered, and the parking area we found had nearly a dozen vehicles already in it.

  “What’s so special about it?” I asked.

  An impish smile played on Fisher’s lips. “It used to be a landfill.” The look on my face must’ve said exactly what I was thinking. Fisher burst into laughter. “It’s not anymore,” he continued. “It was abandoned, and then went wild. People use it to hike around or as a dog park now.”

  I could see that. We were cut off enough from civilization to let dogs roam free, and the rugged terrain would tempt outdoorsy types.

  The air was brisk, a slight wind cutting through my sweater. In his short sleeves, Fisher would be shivering before we got a hundred feet from the car.

  “Do you have a jacket?” I asked.

  He jerked his chin toward the trunk. “In my suitcase.”

  I opened it for him, then stood back while he rummaged around. Once he had it on, though, he went back to the front seat. My eyes widened when he pulled a black folding cane from his messenger bag.

  “If your leg is bothering you, why are we
at a hiking park?” I asked.

  “Because I want to be.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. It’s my own fault if it’s a little tired. I’ve been too busy the past few days to bother with my PT exercises, and walking through two different airports today didn’t help. I’m not letting it get in the way of our date.” He waggled a finger at me, but his smile took away any real rebuke. “Pulling the car around is the only babying you’re going to do today, okay? I’m fine.”

  Shame flooded through me. I didn’t want to be one of those guys who thought Fisher needed babying because of his accident, and yet, at the very first hint he might be in pain, I’d gone straight there. If anyone knew how Fisher needed to feel independent, it was me. That was half the point of his whole blog.

  “I don’t think you need babying,” I said. “I didn’t like the idea of you being in pain.”

  “I know.” He slipped his free hand into mine and tugged until we stood toe to toe. “You’re a caretaker, so of course you went straight there the first time you had to deal with my leg in the flesh.”

  He made me sound altruistic which I didn’t feel at all. But he was right about one thing. From this point forward, I would focus on learning where his boundaries were and respect them, even when I itched to help.

  With Fisher standing so close, I could barely breathe. His face was as flushed as mine felt, his pupils blown. He was as aware of me as I was of him. In hindsight, our arguments that we might not be attracted to each other in person seemed ridiculous, that we’d given lip service to the words because that’s what was expected. We couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “I really want to kiss you right now,” Fisher said.

  His whispered words echoed my own desires. “So why don’t you?”

  The corner of his mouth tipped upward. “Because I don’t want your first kiss to be in a landfill.”

  Even after everything, he was still thinking of me.

  “It’s not the location that matters,” I said. “It’s the guy I’m with.”

  Before I lost my nerve, I bent down and pressed my lips to his.

 

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