SEALed at Midnight

by Cat Johnson

  “Wow. You got it started.”

  “I p-p-poured some melted candlewax onto the wood.”

  “Oh, good idea.” Ginny carried the comforter to him since he didn’t seem to be moving away from the hearth and the only source of warmth. “Here. This should help.”

  “T-t-thanks.” He clutched the comforter she draped around him on top of the blanket.

  The room, lit by the flickering firelight and candles, seemed so much warmer than it had even a few minutes ago, but not warm enough she wanted to be too far from the fire. She kneeled on the floor near him and unzipped her jacket.

  “Is there anything else I can get you?” She wasn’t sure what she was offering.

  The stovetop was electric so she couldn’t even make him hot tea. If he was thirsty, she could get him a bottle of cold water from the fridge, but she wasn’t sure that would help all that much.

  “No.” He chattered less as he answered. That was a good sign.

  “Can you tell me what happened to you? How you got to be in the barn?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay. Is there someone you want me to call for you? Your wife, maybe?”

  “I don’t know.” He glanced down at his left hand.

  So did she, and saw there was no wedding ring on his finger. Not even an impression where there used to be one.

  Crazy woman that she was, she felt relieved he wasn’t married.

  Ginny chewed on her lip and regrouped. “Is your cell phone in your jacket or jeans? We can look in your contact list.”

  “No phone. I checked.”

  “I’m Ginny, by the way. And you are?” Maybe she could Google his name on her phone and find a home number.

  “I don’t remember my name.” There was horror in his expression. He looked so miserable sitting there, not knowing who he was.

  That had been her last idea. She was out of suggestions.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” She felt the need to comfort him. When he let out a short bitter-sounding laugh at that, she added, “Really. I think you must have hit your head. You probably have a concussion. That’s why you can’t remember anything. I’m sure your memory will come back. All you need is a good night’s sleep. Oh, but wait. You’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion.”

  “I think it’s that you can sleep but only for two hours at a time.”

  “Oh. Okay. Do you want to lie down and try to get some rest? I’ll wake you up.”

  “Not now.”

  “Maybe I should look at that cut on your head.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He wouldn’t accept any help. In fact, even while injured he’d been the one helping her when he built the fire that warmed her enough she slipped off her jacket.

  Yeah, she was in her pajamas, but he was in his boxer shorts under the mound of covers, so she didn’t worry too much about it.

  He lifted his head and started to unwrap himself from the blankets.

  “Do you need something?” she asked.

  “Just going to put more wood on the fire.”

  “Let me get that.” Ginny hopped up and ran to grab the last pieces of wood she’d left by the doorway. She brought them back to the hearth. “I should get more inside so it will dry.”

  “Let me.” He moved to get up.

  “No. Stay. You’re hurt.”

  He let out a snort. “I’ve had worse.”

  She paused at that comment. “Do you remember something?”

  He laughed. “Not really. It’s just a feeling I have.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  That was too bad. It was Christmas. Someone must be very worried about this man being missing. She knew she would be if he were hers to worry about.

  “Thank you.” His comment drew her out of her thoughts.

  She glanced at him. “For what?”

  “Everything.” The firelight danced over his high cheekbones and strong jaw that showed just a shadow of stubble.

  “It wasn’t as if I had anything else to do so . . .” Ginny shrugged.

  “Still, it’s nice of you.”

  “Eh, consider it my Christmas good deed.”

  His eyes widened. “It’s Christmas?”

  She cringed. “Yeah. Sorry to dump that bit of info on you like that. I guess that makes tonight extra shitty for you.”

  “I feel like something important is right there, hovering on the edge of my memory. So close but I can’t grab it.” He shook his head.

  “Maybe if we talk it might jog your memory.”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure how much I can contribute to the conversation.”

  “Let me start. Out in the barn, you were talking about missions and insurgents and targets and the base. Were you in the military?”

  After a beat, he nodded. “Yes.”

  “You know that?” Now it was her eyes that flew wide.

  “I do.”

  “What do you remember?”

  This could be a huge breakthrough. Didn’t all soldiers know their name, rank and serial number so well they could spout it out even in the midst of the worst torture? Or was that just in the movies?

  He shook his head. “Nothing specific. Just . . .”

  “A feeling you have?”

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand over his head, as if it hurt. She was probably giving the poor man a bigger headache than he already had by grilling him like this.

  “Maybe if I talk first it’ll make things come easier for you.”

  “Okay.”

  She put herself into first date mode and began. “So, my name’s Virginia, but as I said, everyone calls me Ginny . . . except for my mother who insists on still calling me Virginia.”

  It lifted her hopes and spirits when he smiled at that.

  “Um, I work from home doing freelance editing but what I really want to do is be a writer.”

  “It’s a nice house to work in.”

  “Oh, this isn’t my house. I’m house sitting for the people who own it. That’s why there’s no tree or decorations up. It’s not my place.”

  “How long you here for?”

  “A few months.”

  “You should have a tree.”

  Ginny shrugged. “I guess. It’s just no fun putting it up all alone.”

  He frowned. “Why are you alone?”

  Her mouth dropped open but she wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Sorry. Too personal.” He shook his head.

  “No, it’s fine. Um, I’m kind of taking a break from dating for a little while.”

  He nodded, as if he understood. “Bad breakup?”

  She hadn’t even gotten as far as having a boyfriend to break up with. “Actually more a string of bad first dates turned me off dating in general.”

  “Hmm.” His noncommittal sound had her frowning.

  “You don’t agree?”

  He let out a short breath and touched his fingers to his head. “I don’t know much right now.”

  “You really should lie down.” Because he looked ready to fall over at any moment right where he sat.

  “I’m okay.” He dismissed her concern.

  “You really are stubborn.”

  “Mmm, hmm.” He swayed where he sat.

  “Oh my God.” Ginny reached out and braced him so he didn’t fall. “Please lie down.”

  “I’m fine.” His protest was slurred and she decided she’d had enough.

  “Fine, but this is my house . . . at least for now it is, and I’m insisting you lie down before you fall down.”

  “Okay.”

  She scrambled for a pillow from the couch and slipped it beneath his head as he lowered himself to the floor, but he pushed himself back upright. “Nope.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s making me dizzy.”

  “I think I should drive you to the emergency room.”

  He sat with his head braced in his hands, and his hands over his eyes. “The roads will be bad. I’ll be fine.”

  “
So you said.” She couldn’t agree with that because he certainly didn’t look fine. “Does your head hurt?”

  “It’s just the fire. The light’s too bright.”

  “You’re still shaking.”

  “I’m just a little cold.”

  And dizzy and he obviously had a headache he wouldn’t admit to. She pursed her lips, unhappy. “I don’t like it.”

  “Get used to it. No hospital.” His tone was firm and strong leaving no doubt of his opinion on the matter. And even injured, he could still overpower her. She knew that from experience, so it wasn’t as if she could force him to go.

  “Okay. No hospital.” She only hoped he heard in her tone how unhappy she was.

  He lifted his head to look at her. “That’s it? No more pushing me to go. You’re giving up?”

  “Yes. No man could be this stubborn and be that seriously hurt.”

  He tipped his head. “Eh, you might be surprised about that. I’ve known a few. But seriously, I’m already feeling a little better.”

  Again a glimpse of a memory had snuck out, though he didn’t seem to realize it. Ginny eyed him a little closer. Maybe he was on the road to recovery.

  Then again, what did she know? He could suffer some sort of brain aneurism any moment.

  “You’re still looking at me like I’m going to keel over. How’s this? I’ll try to lie down so you feel better.” The comforter still wrapped around him he stretched out on the carpet in front of the fireplace, resting his head on the pillow she’d laid there for him. “Better?”

  “A little.” Though she noticed he’d turned to face the dark room and not the fire. The light must still be hurting his head. “I’d feel better if you closed your eyes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He did as told.

  She watched him, and saw a tremor run through him. He was still chilled to the bone.

  Who knew how long he’d been out there in the cold. Probably long enough for his core body temperature to drop dangerously low. She was no doctor, but she figured it would take a while to warm him back up.

  His eyes remained closed and his breathing was steady. He’d be asleep soon, if he wasn’t already.

  She needed to get some firewood and make sure their only source of heat didn’t die. Ginny spotted the canvas log carrier. That would make things easier.

  Tip-toeing so she wouldn’t disturb him, she made her way across the room. She shoved her feet in the boots again and eased the door open.

  She filled the carrier as quickly as she could and heaved it up. The weight threw off her balance. In the process, her feet in the big boots slid on the snowy porch floor.

  Ginny landed on her ass. The only good thing was that she maintained her hold on the log carrier. It landed on the porch with a thud, but not one log fell out.

  A long string of every curse she could remember spewed forth as she stood, trying not to fall again.

  Her ass was wet, cold and hurt from landing hard on the wood floor.

  This pioneer existence of heating with wood sucked. She continued to silently curse the weather and the power company as she bumped her way back into the house with the log carrier and struggled to get the door shut.

  She used to think fireplaces were romantic. Now she knew they were just a pain in the ass—literally.

  The room wasn’t huge, but the fireplace had never seemed so far from the door as it did now after her eyes had been bigger than her muscles and she’d way overfilled the log carrier.

  “You should have asked for help.” He sat up.

  She’d done her best to be quiet but that obviously hadn’t worked.

  “I don’t need any help. All done. See?” She tried to sound cheerful and competent when she was neither at the moment.

  “Yes, I see . . . and heard.” He smiled.

  The expression transformed his face. It was as if a light had been turned on, illuminating him from the inside, giving her a glimpse of what he’d look like happy and healthy.

  “Sorry. I don’t usually talk like that.” She kneeled on the hearth and threw in another log.

  “Don’t apologize. That was by far the most creative swearing I’ve heard in or out of the Navy.”

  She turned to look at him. “Do you realize what’s happening? What you just said?”

  “No. What?” He frowned.

  “You talked about the Navy. You’re remembering things.”

  He paused for a second. “Maybe I am. But not the important things like my name. Or if I’m married or not.”

  Knowing whether he was single was important to him? Could that be because he was interested in her?

  Ginny beat back that thought. He’d hit his head hard enough he had amnesia, for God’s sake. It was pure conceit to believe he would spare even a thought regarding her at a time like this.

  “Lie down and rest. Please.”

  “If I do, will you please do the same? You’re shivering now too.” He lifted the corner of the blanket. “Come get warm.”

  Get warm, under the same blanket as a man who had the body of a Greek sculpture and was wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

  But he was right. She was cold now that the ass of her pajamas was wet.

  She could handle this. She was an adult . . . an adult who hadn’t had sex in so long she’d begun to dream about it like some pubescent boy. But desperate times called for desperate measures and it was a proven fact that two people’s body heat was better than one.

  “Okay.” She moved around him. “But you get the spot closer to the fire because you’re hurt and you were colder longer.”

  “All right.”

  She settled herself on the carpet, faced the room and rested her head on the edge of the pillow barely big enough for two.

  He covered her with the blanket, leaving his arm draped over her waist after he did. She felt his breath against her hair. Felt his body pressed close behind her, along with his hard muscles and long limbs.

  It was all the makings of some of her best dreams, but unlike her dreams, this was real. And unlike her dreams, she couldn’t yank the boxer shorts off this perfect specimen of a man and jump him.

  That didn’t stop Ginny from letting her mind wander to what would happen if she did.

  As his breathing became slow and deep behind her, the list she’d made while watching the Love Doctor caught her eye.

  It was crazy, but the damn thing had worked. She’d wished for a man and he’d appeared.

  Next time she’d be more specific regarding what she wished for. She’d have to remember to include things such as a memory as traits she wanted in a man.

  Lesson learned.

  CHAPTER 8

  Thom woke disoriented.

  His state of confusion stemmed more from the warm body next to him than from the hard floor beneath him.

  He’d dozed on the floor of transports and during missions more often than he’d like, but it had been a very long time since he’d woken next to a woman.

  His body had known she was there before his consciousness had, and it had reacted accordingly. He didn’t dare move and risk her feeling his raging hard-on.

  He pawed through the haze of sleep and grabbed onto a memory. Her name was Ginny, though her mother called her Virginia. She cussed like a sailor when she thought he couldn’t hear and she hadn’t shown fear even in the face of encountering a strange man in the middle of the night.

  He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to himself what a huge relief it was that he could remember last night at all, given his recent head injury in the Black Hawk.

  More importantly than his remembering Ginny’s name, was that he knew his own name. But the biggest relief of all was the memory that he was single. Very, very single, so technically it was all right he was enjoying her warmth pressed against him.

  Of course, he wasn’t sure she’d agree since in spite of sharing the same blanket in front of the fireplace they were strangers. But God did she feel good and it had been so damned long since he’d be
en with a woman.

  That thought only made him grow harder. He closed his eyes and willed his erection to go down. No surprise, it didn’t listen. It was just like the family dog his ex-wife had gotten in the divorce. One glimpse of his leash and the dog wouldn’t be satisfied until after he’d gone out for a walk.

  Thom glanced down at Ginny’s dark head of curls, so close he could detect the scent of smoke from the fire mingled with the same sweet floral hair product his ex-wife used.

  The fact that he didn’t roll away from Ginny and run out the door just from her hair product reminding him of his ex told him this woman was special.

  She stirred next to him, and then turned her head on the pillow.

  “Are you awake?” Her voice sounded sleepy as she whispered the question.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

  “Better.” His head had stopped pounding and he wasn’t dizzy anymore. And he finally felt warm. But there was something much more important to tell her. “I remember.”

  “You remember?” Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. That’s so great.”

  “Yeah.” He smiled, gazing down at her face lit by the candle on the table. “I’m Thom, by the way.”

  She laughed, a light tinkling of a sound. “Nice to meet you, Thom. What else do you remember?”

  “Well, I remembered that I am in the Navy. I’m stationed in Virginia.”

  She frowned at that revelation. “Then what were you doing here in Massachusetts?”

  “My parents live here. I was driving to visit them when the storm hit.”

  “We should call them. They must be worried to death.” She moved as if she was about to get up, but that was the last thing he wanted her to do. She felt too good next to him.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. They don’t expect me until dinner. I was planning to surprise them by driving through the night and being there in time for breakfast. In hindsight, that wasn’t such a great plan.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you?”

  “Most of it. I remember my SUV skidding off the road, but I have no recollection of actually crashing or anything else until you found me outside.”

  “Wow. That’s crazy.”

  Not really, but he probably had more experience with traumatic brain injury than she had.