The Memory of You

by Laurie Kellogg

“I know. That’s why I stopped you. Forget them for right now. Step out of the vehicle and let me see some ID.”

  He got out of the car. When the cop glanced at Matt’s license, he ordered, “Turn around and put your hands on the vehicle where I can see them.”

  While the man frisked him, Matt leaned against the fender and hyperventilated, breathing the heavy odor of cigarettes emanating from the man’s uniform. The patrolman pointed into the front seat of the car. “What’s in the bag?”

  “Condoms,” Matt choked out.

  The other officer standing at the rear of the car sputtered. “Condoms. That’s original.”

  “What’d I do wrong?” Matt asked.

  “Besides using a false identity? Not a thing,” the cop who had frisked Matt said. “As a rookie, I was George Larson’s partner. So I know his daughter Abby—and her circumstances. Matt Foster died in Vietnam years ago.”

  The officer grabbed the back of Matt’s neck and everything grew hazy. “Don’t play games with me,” he snapped. “What’s your real name?”

  In an instant, Matt was transported from the parking lot of the small strip mall in Redemption to a dark cement cell. The smell of mildew filled his nostrils.

  The angry man’s grip tightened on his neck. “I asked you your name!”

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt pleaded, gasping for air. “I don’t know. Please don’t shoot me.” He curled up into a tight ball on the ground, his arms over his head. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore.”

  When the two men yanked him to his feet, his head spun and the blood pounded in his ears. Everything went black.

  Chapter 14

  Matt gradually dragged his heavy eyelids up, feeling disoriented. He found himself lying on a stretcher beside an ambulance in handcuffs. Damn. He must have passed out.

  He called to the policeman standing nearby. “Officer, I can explain if you’ll just listen.”

  “That’d be nice.”

  “Have you called Abby?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Look, would you wait and contact Dr. Katherine Grant at the VA hospital, first? She’ll vouch for who I am.”

  He’d give his left nut to have a telephone right now. If they could put one using radio waves in a car, why didn’t some genius design a phone a person could carry in his pocket? As soon as he landed a job as an engineer, he was looking into it.

  “Why don’t you just give us that information?” the cop asked.

  “Because you won’t believe me. I am Matt Foster. I’m not dead. Look, I know Abby’s dad drowned, trying to save a kid.”

  “That’s true.” The officer’s voice cracked. “But it doesn’t prove a thing. It’s public record.”

  The back-up cop shrugged. “What can it hurt, John?”

  Matt heaved a long breath of relief. “Her number is in my wallet on an appointment card.”

  An eternity passed before the ambulance crew gave up waiting for the first cop to return. They loaded Matt’s stretcher into the back of the rig. As they were about to close the door, the officer returned and stopped the vehicle from leaving. “I apologize for taking so long. Matt, I’m terribly sorry.”

  The cop climbed into the ambulance and unlocked the cuffs. “I thought you were some nutcase trying to assume....” He chuckled. “Well, it sounds funny now, but I thought you were trying to impersonate yourself. Since you passed out, we’ll still run you over to the hospital to be checked out.”

  “Okay, but do me a favor. If you have to call Abby, please refer to me as Mac McCartney. I’d prefer she doesn’t find out I’m her husband just yet.”

  “Huh? How could she not know you’re her husband?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “One I’d like to hear. I’ll see you at the hospital.” The cop held his hand out to shake Matt’s. “I’m John Gilbert.”

  When Matt arrived at the hospital ten minutes later, they wheeled him into a curtained cubicle where the policeman, John, eventually joined him. Matt gave him a quick rundown of his situation and concluded saying, “So I think the smell of your cigarettes and gun, combined with you asking my name and grabbing my neck was too much.”

  John shook his head in awe. “I’m sorry I roughed you up. I’m sure the doctor won’t hold you long.”

  “Hey, “—Matt shrugged —“you were just doing your job.”

  “I’d offer to stick around and take you home, but I’m still on duty.”

  Great. How was he going to get back to the house? “If that’s the case, would you mind calling Dr. Robert Webber for me, and ask him to come pick me up? I don’t have his number but—”

  “I have it. Rob’s my dentist. I’m the one who referred Abby to him when her dentist retired.”

  “Thanks.” Matt shook his hand. “How do I get Abby’s car back?” He glanced at his watch. “I just went out to pick up a pizza. By now, she’s probably had an all points bulletin put out on the car, thinking I’ve stolen it.”

  “No, I would’ve heard about that. More likely she’s checking the morgue. She’d give Frankenstein the benefit of the doubt.”

  “True.” But her trusting, optimistic nature was one of the things Matt admired most about her.

  John clapped his hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see her car gets returned. I’m sorry I put you through this.”

  Matt cooled his heels for less than half an hour before Rob’s head poked around the curtain. The psychiatrist still hadn’t had a chance to evaluate Matt.

  “Hey, Rob, thanks for coming. I didn’t know who else to ask Officer Gilbert to call since you’re the only one who knows who I really am. Well—now you and the whole freaking Redemption police department.”

  Rob chuckled. “I’m glad you called. Your entire situation is hilarious.”

  “I’m happy I could provide some entertainment, seeing as you may have to wait awhile for me to be discharged.”

  ~~~

  It was seven-thirty before Rob finally pulled his car up to Abby’s house. Matt cocked an eyebrow at him. “I want to give you something as a thank you. You can do what you want with it, but if you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll use it.”

  He fished Katherine Grant’s card out of his pocket and handed it to Rob. “She has the longest pair of legs I’ve ever seen. When you call her, tell her I think lonely stinks. If she doesn’t agree to see you, make an appointment for counseling for your broken heart. You won’t be sorry.”

  When Matt sauntered in the back door a few minutes later, Abby flung her arms around him in a frantic state. “What happened to you? I was getting ready to call the police.”

  Thank God he’d gotten home when he had. “You would’ve been calling the right place. Your friend, Officer Gilbert, pulled me over because I was driving your car. I apparently had a flashback and freaked out. They sent me to the hospital and impounded your vehicle.”

  Her hold on him tightened. “Thank God, you’re okay.”

  The house was so quiet he could hear the clock ticking. Their son couldn’t be in bed already. Matt drew back and peered at her. “Where’s Tommy?”

  “I took him to Lucy’s in case I had to go get you.”

  “How? On the Harley?”

  “I could’ve borrowed Lucy’s car. How’d you get home if the police took the GTO?”

  “Rob came for me.”

  “My, you two did get chummy, didn’t you? The next thing I know you’ll be telling me you’re going fishing together.”

  He cocked his head. “Hey, you know that’s not a bad idea. I promised Tommy and Royce I’d take them one afternoon. Anyway, John promised to bring your car home.”

  The doorbell pealed through the silent house. Matt swung open the front door and found Abby’s policeman friend on the porch, dangling her keys from his finger. “Hi, Matt.”

  “Shhh.” Matt snatched the keys from him. “Call me Mac.”

  Abby joined them at the door. “Johnny, how are you?”

  “Still pining for you.” T
he cop heaved a melodramatic sigh.

  “Right, you’re with a different girl every night. The police in this town still talk to me.”

  Wonderful. Matt rolled his eyes. Just what he needed. Some badge spilling the beans to his wife. “Come on in.”

  “No, I can’t.” John jerked his head toward the patrol car at the curb. “I’ve got someone waiting to drive me back to the station. The next time an officer stops you, tell him your situation before you hand him your license.”

  After John left, Abby’s forehead puckered. “What’d he mean tell him your situation?”

  “Uhh, just that I get spooked easily.” Matt checked the clock, thrilled to see how close it was to their son’s bedtime. “Would you like me to get Tommy so he can shower before we put him to bed?”

  “No, that’s okay. Lucy’s keeping him overnight.”

  Yesss! Life was good. Matt did a little tap dance in his head. He loved his son, but he’d heard how sound traveled through the house the night before. And after going so long without sex, things just might get a little noisy. He also didn’t want to worry about leaving Abby’s bed at the crack of dawn.

  “So-o.” He raised his eyebrows, shadowing Abby into the kitchen. “Is Tommy staying there for breakfast, too?”

  “Sure. Lucy’s taking him to the bus stop with Royce.”

  Just when he thought the game couldn’t get better, along came overtime with extra innings. He could keep Abby in bed until noon. Although, by rights, he should go out job-hunting.

  Not likely.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll go shower.”

  Abby opened the refrigerator. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  That all depended on which hunger she meant. If she’d been referring to his need for her, then he was famished—ravenous—starving. But he doubted she meant his sexual appetite.

  “Don’t worry. My stomach is used to going without.”

  Of course, the more southern parts of him were equally accustomed to being deprived. At the moment, he was more concerned with satisfying the ache in his groin than the one in his belly.

  He groaned inwardly, gazing at the soft swell of Abby’s bottom while she leaned over and peered into the fridge.

  “There’s no reason for you to go without now if you don’t have to.”

  Precisely. And he didn’t plan to deny himself one moment longer than necessary. “If you’ve already eaten, I don’t want you to go to any trouble for me.”

  “I was too busy pacing to eat. What’re you in the mood for?”

  He sucked in a breath, and air whistled through his clenched teeth. That was absolutely the wrong question for her to ask him at the moment. He had to get his mind out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen.

  “You should know by now, I’m not fussy. Anything will be fine as long it’s quick. Oh, and no peas or rice, please.

  “No peas? I thought you loved them?”

  Damn. Now what? “I do,” he lied. “But they, uhhh—give me gas,” he spouted off the top of his head.

  She opened the pantry and scanned the shelves. “How about spaghetti? I jar my own sauce every summer, so it’ll only take twenty minutes.”

  Perfect. Just long enough for him clean up. “That sounds fantastic. Do you mind if I shower while you’re making it?”

  “No, go ahead. There isn’t much you can do in here with me other than to wait for the food to cook.”

  Oh, but she was so wrong. He could suggest some extremely imaginative ways to spend the time.

  ~~~

  Matt stepped out of the tub ten minutes later and wiped the steam off the mirror with his towel. After wrapping it around his hips, he ran his hand over his furry chin.

  When he rubbed his face against Abby’s soft breasts, the layer of hair on his jaw would definitely take something away from the experience of making love to her. He longed to feel her smooth flawless skin against his cheek. But more importantly, he didn’t want Abby to feel like she was in bed with Big Foot.

  His face had filled out a fair amount since his release from the hospital. The only problem with shaving off his beard was it might make him look more familiar. He stared at himself in the mirror a few moments.

  Tough. If she figured out who he was, then so be it.

  He pulled out the scissors and the razor he’d previously only needed for shaving his neck. He trimmed his beard back as close as possible before applying the razor. After going over his face a couple of times, he switched to a fresh blade for the final sweep. He turned his head from side to side, scrutinizing himself. He still didn’t look anything like the kid in his induction picture.

  The similarity in the shape of his lips had become a little more noticeable, but the bridgework had redefined the lower third of his face. His younger mouth had a happy, relaxed lift to its edges, whereas now it looked strained and cynical.

  Tightening the towel around his waist, he headed to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans he’d bought at the Clark PX. They’d actually gotten pretty snug. He studied his bare torso in the mirror and ran his fingers over his ribs. Another fifteen pounds and he’d have to cut out the second helpings. That would be tough if he was still eating Abby’s cooking.

  ~~~

  Abby added browned ground beef and some mushrooms to her jarred sauce and tasted it. Turning, she discovered Mac leaning against the wall, dragging his half-lidded gaze over her.

  She gasped, feeling as if she’d seen a ghost. Mac had shaved, and the position he stood in and the yearning way he watched her reminded her of the first time she saw Matt.

  Mac’s beard had hidden how handsome he was. Without it, he looked five years younger. His strong, chiseled jaw simply enhanced his virile good looks.

  Her efforts at putting weight on him had apparently begun to pay off. The soft denim hugged his hips and thighs like a second skin and made his muscular shoulders seem even broader.

  “I see you shaved.”

  Smart. Tell the man something he doesn’t already know.

  “You look really good. Pretty soon that shirt will fit almost as well as those jeans do. How come you decided to do away with your beard?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up as he strolled to the cabinet. “It was time. I’ve never really liked it. But now that my cheeks have filled out a bit....”

  He removed two glasses from the cupboard. When she brushed past him to take down the plates, his whole body jerked as if he’d been electrocuted. Maybe his odd behavior since he’d gotten home was a residual effect of his flashback.

  “Are you okay, Mac? You seem a little edgy.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Being alone for the evening meal made the boundaries of their relationship even less definitive. The ambiguousness of it left her unsure how to act with him. Exactly who was she having dinner with? Was Mac just a friend?

  She turned around to put the plates on the table and nearly ran into him. Instead of making way for her, Mac stepped even closer until his warm breath tickled her forehead. As she inched backward, he took the plates from her and placed them on the counter, maneuvering her up against the cabinets. Dipping his head, he gently nipped at her lips, testing them before merging his mouth with hers in a long seductive kiss.

  O-kaaay. So maybe they weren’t just friends. Pals didn’t kiss each other with their mouths open.

  So what were they to each other? Certainly not lovers. At least not yet.

  Maybe that was at the root of all his nervousness. Perhaps he’d shaved because he was he preparing to seduce her.

  His mouth played softly over hers with only the slightest pressure while he sipped at her mouth as if savoring a delicacy.

  The kiss wasn’t a heated one. It was tantalizing. Mac’s sensual touch instantly had her floating high above the clouds. He leisurely licked her lips with just the tip of his tongue, growling.

  When he drew back, she stood motionless a moment and gradually dragged up her heavy lashes to find Mac gazing down at her, studying
her face. He caressed her cheek, running the pad of his thumb over her lips. “You really are gorgeous.”

  She let her eyes drift closed again. The man was very good. Was it just her imagination, or was this kiss even more seductive than the ones he gave her two nights ago?

  Those kisses had been sexy and tempting, but they hadn’t been filled with the same sweet promise as this one. Tonight, she felt as if they’d shared more than just a physical encounter. Almost as if their spirits had touched.

  Obviously, he hadn’t shown her even half of the response he was capable of evoking. Why had he held himself back on Friday?”

  She dragged in a deep breath and stepped away from him, avoiding his intense gaze. “I thought we could eat our salad while the pasta is cooking.”

  As he stared down at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes, she held her hand over her midriff to still the butterflies doing loop-de-loops in her stomach. How could she eat dinner with aerial acrobatics going on in her belly?

  Mac pulled the chair out for her, and after saying a short blessing, he picked up his fork. She watched his smooth-shaven face while he chewed. His mouth appeared even more sensual now that he didn’t have a mustache obscuring his upper lip.

  Glancing up from his salad, he pointed at her bowl. “You’re not eating.” She loaded her fork and filled her mouth, nearly choking when he cocked his eyebrow and added, “I don’t want you getting hungry later on.”

  Later on? No. That kiss had not been all in her head. He definitely had plans to take her to bed. She swallowed her mouthful and chewed the inside of her lip. She’d known him less than two weeks. Physically, she’d been ready to make love with him days ago. But that shouldn’t be the basis for her decision to have sex with him. If her attraction was merely because she identified him with Matt, then she had no business sleeping with him.

  Throughout their meal, her skin prickled as if she could feel him watching her. The steamy desire in his eyes and the way one edge of his mouth turned up into a sexy half smile shouted his carnal intentions loud and clear.

  She stared down at her plate, refusing to look at him. Mac could have all the plans he wanted, but he’d be carrying them out without her. She planned to do the dishes, take a long hot bath, and go to bed—with a good book.