Kisses to Remember

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Kisses to Remember Page 7

by Christine DePetrillo


  “I think cars are important to me somehow.”

  “Aren’t cars important to all men?” A loud creak echoed into the parking lot as she opened the passenger door for him. Why hadn’t she asked Ted to fix that?

  “Just because I can’t remember myself, doesn’t mean you should apply every male stereotype to me to fill in the blanks.” He got into the Bronco, wincing a little as he repositioned himself in the seat.

  “Right. Okay. So I shouldn’t expect you to leave the toilet seat up while you’re staying with me?” She liked the way the left side of Holden’s mouth turned up in a smirk as she closed the door. She walked to the driver side and slid into the seat.

  “I will make a special effort to put the seat down. Promise.” He held up his hand as if taking an oath.

  Johanna pushed the key into the ignition and started the aging Bronco. Now every grumble and groan of the engine embarrassed her. Kam never said anything about riding in the beast, but maybe the Y-chromosome didn’t truly get active until puberty. Ted never commented on the Bronco either. Maybe he just didn’t want to have to fix it.

  “This thing is going to make it to your house, right?” Holden patted the dashboard.

  “It has yet to fail me.” Johanna caressed the steering wheel. “Although, I don’t drive that often. Don’t have to.”

  “Why not?” Holden stretched out his right leg and rubbed his kneecap. The movement shouldn’t have hypnotized her, but it did.

  She blinked and reluctantly focused her gaze out the windshield. “Work from home. Don’t have to haul my butt anywhere each morning but down the hallway.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Is this the twenty questions portion of our encounter?” Johanna plunged her hand into her purse and pulled out her sunglasses.

  “I can’t remember me,” Holden said. “I may as well get to know you.”

  “Good point. Maybe me saying something will jog your memory.” She merged onto the highway and settled in her seat for the twenty-minute drive home. “I’m a graphic designer. Make promotional items for companies. In fact,” she glanced at him quickly, “I designed the logo for the company you may or may not work for.”

  “Donovan Electronics?” Holden pulled on his lower lip. “The doctor showed me the logo, but I didn’t recognize it.”

  “And the company doesn’t recognize you apparently.” That little tidbit still unsettled Johanna. It was like a splinter subtly irritating her flesh. And knowing the plane was no longer in her back field only added to the mystery…or the danger. “Maybe Holden Lancaster isn’t your real name?”

  He shook his head. “It’s my name. It’s the only thing I’m absolutely sure about. That and my birthday.”

  “Which is?”

  “July 31st.” He said it with enough conviction to convince Johanna it was true.

  “My son’s is July 2nd. Generally speaking, I like folks born in July.” She risked another glance in his direction, and his smile made a flash of heat zip through her body. Her hardly-used woman parts wiggled under the layer of dust that had been collecting on them and paid attention to this man sitting beside her.

  We like him, they said.

  Shut up, Johanna thought. “I hope you like animals. We’ve got cows, chickens, a couple of ducks, and a dog.”

  “Sounds like a full house. Sure you have room for me?” Holden rubbed his hand over the stitches on his forearm as if he were trying to scratch them without scratching them. Johanna recalled when Kam had needed stitches after falling out of his tree house. His one complaint was how much they itched.

  “We’ve got room. It’s just me and Kam in the house.” Would have been more if the dice hadn’t rolled the way they did. “And there’s Ted, my father-in-law, well, ex-father-in-law technically. He lives in a cabin on the edge of the property. He’ll be the one giving you vicious glares upon first meeting you, so be ready.”

  “Thanks for the warning. Should I sleep with one eye open?”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  “Doubt I can manage it. I’m exhausted, and I have a monster headache.” He pressed on his temples, and Johanna got the urge to massage that headache away for him. She noted the small shaven patch on his scalp and recalled the blood that had been oozing out of that wound when she’d pulled him out of the plane.

  “Tell me you have aspirin or something.” He pressed his palms to his closed eyes.

  “I’ve got whatever you need.”

  “Whatever I need?” He dropped his hands to his lap. “I’ll remember you said that.”

  “Said what?”

  “That you have whatever I need.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  Johanna pulled the brochures the doctor gave her out of her purse. Pretending to read from one, she said, “In the event the patient incorrectly remembers conversations, emergency help should be sought.”

  Holden elbowed her and grabbed the brochure. He stuffed it back into her purse. “Making fun of the injured. Real nice.”

  “I never claimed to have a good bedside manner. I only promised a guestroom and some rest.”

  “And that you have whatever I need.” Holden stared out the windshield, but Johanna could see his grin.

  Playing with a hot amnesiac was fun. More fun than she’d had in a while. What other fun would Holden Lancaster bring?

  ****

  Nothing was familiar about riding in that dilapidated Bronco. Not the trees, farms, or miles of highway that whizzed by as Johanna drove. And yet, Holden wasn’t anxious. His head still throbbed, his stitches itched like crazy, and the muscles around his ribs ached, but the worry over not remembering his past was not the first thing on his mind.

  Instead, this woman sitting beside him filled his thoughts. He couldn’t recall the people he knew, but surely they weren’t as nice—or as gorgeous—as Johanna Ware. She’d saved his life, driven to the hospital, offered him a room in her house, and now was funning with him as if they were old buddies. She was making this entire ordeal so much better, and it was more than a pleasure to look at her. That red hair was fiery around her fair-skinned cheeks, and that rose on her T-shirt sure looked fine stretched across her breasts. Light freckles were sprinkled along her arms while a bracelet encircled one wrist. A bracelet made of…acorns?

  “Acorns as jewelry. Interesting.” He pointed to the bracelet.

  Johanna lifted her arm and shook her wrist. The acorns knocked against each other making a musical instrument of her arm. “Yeah. My son made this for me for Mother’s Day.” She glowed every time she mentioned her son.

  “Talented kid.”

  “Kam is always working on a project. He loves building things.” She held up her wrist again. “His grandfather helped him with this one. I’m hoping for matching earrings next year.” She grinned and switched lanes on the highway.

  “No fear of rogue squirrel attacks?”

  “Let them try to steal my fine jewelry. It’ll be the last nut they get.”

  The fierce mama bear was right there at the ready. He’d stay away from the kid just to be safe. No need to get mixed up with a kid anyway. Did he even like kids? Who could remember? If all went well, his memory would come back quickly, and he’d be on a plane to Texas soon.

  He must have dozed off, because when he opened his eyes, the highway was gone, and the Bronco was traveling down a dirt road instead. Grassy fields stretched on to his left and right, a steady breeze making the blades ripple like a green ocean. The Bronco bounced over ruts in the road, and each jostle made his ribs hurt. He let out a groan as Johanna turned onto a narrow driveway and they slammed into a particularly deep hole.

  “Sorry,” Johanna said. “I’m trying not to hit them, but there are so many. Re-grading this driveway is on the summer to do list.”

  “The doctor said nothing was broken in there.” Holden patted his torso. “But my ribs suggest otherwise.”

  “You’re probably bruised from the cock
pit seatbelt. It had you pinned to the seat pretty good, but nothing else was on top of you.” She shuddered a little as if thinking about the crashed plane bothered her. How bad had it been?

  “You actually came onto the plane and dragged me out?” While she wasn’t weak looking, she didn’t exactly appear to be able to haul a six-foot, two-inch man like himself.

  “Sounds foolish when you say it out loud, but yeah. Did I mention the plane was on fire at the time?” Johanna shrugged. “Guess I was just thinking about getting you out.”

  “Fierce mama bear protects more than her own.”

  “Something like that, I guess.” She parked the Bronco in front of a brown farmhouse with a wrap-around porch and a garage. A huge, red barn hulked behind the house. The sky had been sunny and blue back at the hospital, but here the clouds above were dark and roiling. The only brightness was the red flowers lining the walkway to the farmhouse. Though rain and probably some serious thunder and lightning were only moments away, that house looked perfect to Holden.

  He angled to face Johanna. “Thank you. For pulling me out of the plane, for letting me stay here, for being so nice. I’ll try to remember quickly so I can get out of your way.”

  “Take your time. The extra rooms in this house are going to waste anyway.”

  She pulled her sunglasses off, and Holden was struck by how sad her blue eyes were. He was about to ask her what was wrong, but a boy streaking down the porch stairs and toward the Bronco stopped him. As soon as Johanna saw the boy, her face lit up, and she flung open her door.

  “Is that him, Mom?” The boy stepped onto the front fender of the Bronco and peered through the windshield while a black and white barking dog circled the Bronco.

  Holden felt a little like a zoo exhibit as the boy analyzed him. He opened the passenger door and climbed out at an unimpressive speed. Great. This kid is going to think I’m an old man moving at this pace. He held onto the door for a moment to make sure he was steady. When the scene around him didn’t swirl before his eyes, he stepped around the door and managed to slam it shut as if he had some strength. His ribs complained, but at least he’d put on a good show.

  Johanna guided the boy over by the shoulders as if she were keeping him from jumping all over Holden. Her son was about four feet tall and lean. With his dark hair and even darker eyes, he didn’t look like Johanna at all. Must take after the father. The ex-husband.

  “Kameron, say hello to Mr. Lancaster.” Johanna dropped a kiss on the top of the kid’s head.

  “Hello, Mr. Lancaster.” Kameron held out his hand to Holden.

  “You can call me Holden.” They shook hands, and Holden noted what a firm grip the kid had. A man’s grip.

  “You can call me Kam.” He angled his head to the dog sniffing Holden’s knee. “That’s Miles.”

  “Nice to meet you, Kam.” Holden put his hand down so the dog could get his scent. “Miles.”

  “My mom saved you.” Kam’s smile was enormous.

  “I know.” Holden looked up to Johanna. God, somehow seeing her with her son made her even more beautiful. “Your mom is pretty awesome.”

  “She’s the awesomest!” Kam swiveled around and threw his arms around Johanna’s waist.

  Not a bad idea. Holden crammed his hands into his pockets to keep from mimicking Kam.

  “I cleaned the guest room and bathroom for you, Holden.” Kam headed for the porch. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

  Kam hopped up the stairs and opened the front door. The dog bounded into the farmhouse, but Johanna stopped Holden with her hand on his forearm before he could follow.

  “Once you set foot in there,” she gestured toward her house, “you play by my rules. I’ll give you space to rest and heal, but—”

  “One wrong move and I’m out,” Holden finished. “I don’t want to cause you or your son any trouble, Johanna. Like I said, hopefully my memory returns quickly. If it doesn’t, at least I’ll have had a few days to recover from the concussion, and I’ll be able to fly to Texas whether I remember where I live or not.” The thought of returning home and not remembering it was home made his pulse speed up. Some of the anxiety he’d had in the hospital came creeping back.

  “You’re welcome to stay as long as you behave.” She waggled a finger at him as if he were a child.

  “I’ll behave.”

  “Then follow me.”

  Johanna led him to the house, but they didn’t make it very far before a mountain of a man stopped their progress.

  “Ted,” Johanna said, “let us by.”

  “Not until I speak to this guy outside.” The man didn’t budge and they were stuck in the front doorway.

  “I already spoke to Holden outside. He’s agreed to be perfectly civil while staying with us.” Johanna pushed on the man’s shoulders until he backed up a few steps. She wiggled her way deeper into the house and motioned for Holden to follow.

  He hesitated on the porch for a few steps until Kam squirmed around Ted and grabbed Holden’s hand.

  “C’mon. Pep won’t hurt you.” Kam tugged Holden into a tidy kitchen painted in a cranberry color.

  “Who says Pep won’t hurt him?” Ted said.

  “Knock it off, Ted.” Johanna turned to face Holden. “This is Ted. His bark is worse than his bite. Ted, this is Holden Lancaster, and you will be nice to him.”

  Holden held out his hand to shake Ted’s, but the older man didn’t unfold his arms from his chest. Instead, he glared at Holden. Not with the dark eyes Holden expected the man to have. Not eyes like Kam’s. This guy, though definitely hulking, was even fairer skinned than Johanna. He had that I’ve-been-in-the-military look about him. A look that said, “I own guns.”

  Kam tugged on Holden’s arm again. “C’mon. Let me show you to your room.”

  Holden laughed at the polite words coupled with the rather rough tugging.

  “Go easy with Holden, Kam. He’s a little sore,” Johanna said as she moved toward Kam.

  “I’m sorry, Holden.” Kam released his grip on Holden’s arm.

  “That’s okay. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

  “I had stitches once,” Kam said. “They’re very itchy.” He scratched his own arms as if remembering.

  “You got that right, kid.” Holden ran a hand over his stitched arm. That quick brush felt wonderful, and he applied a little more pressure until Johanna stopped his hand.

  “Don’t scratch it.” She released his hand and stared at her own as if she weren’t sure how she had ended up touching him. “C’mon, let’s get you settled.”

  “I’ll get him settled,” Ted said.

  Holden had a little trouble swallowing. He’d much rather have Johanna settle him. Hell, he’d rather have one of the cows she’d said she owned settle him over Ted.

  “Be nice, Ted,” Johanna warned. She turned her attention to Holden, a little crease between her brows. “You’re tired. Get some sleep and we’ll wake you for dinner, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Holden let Kam pull him into the hallway.

  Ted stopped and Johanna whispered something to him Holden couldn’t hear. Probably asking him not to kill me in front of the boy.

  “Are those my dad’s clothes?” Kam opened a door off the hallway and stepped into the room.

  “Yes. Is it okay if I borrow them? I don’t have any of my own clothes.”

  “Sure. My dad doesn’t need them.” Kam flopped on the full sized bed in the guestroom. “He’s in jail.”

  Holden stopped mid-step. “Jail?” He was wearing the clothes of an inmate. No wonder Johanna was being cautious.

  “Yeah. He’s not a bad guy though. Mom says he didn’t make some good choices. She says you have to think before you act. Always. So I do.”

  Despite the relaxed position Kam had on the bed, Holden could tell the boy was nervous about avoiding bad choices. About avoiding choices that landed one in jail. He desperately wanted to ask what Kam’s father did, but something about pumping a kid for information di
dn’t seem honorable.

  “Choices are important.” Holden couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Like Mom choosing to get you off that plane even though it was on fire. That was important.” Kam beamed again over his mother’s heroism.

  “That was definitely important. I might not be here if she hadn’t.”

  “You might be like the other pilot.”

  “The other pilot?”

  “The one Mom said was already d-e-a-d.” Kam spelled the word as if saying it aloud was taboo.

  So there’d been another pilot. When was someone going to tell him that? Why did he have to hear about it from a boy?

  “Was he your buddy?” Kam asked.

  God, was he? Holden tried to picture the other pilot. Someone he probably had clocked a great deal of flight time with. Someone who could have been his best friend.

  Someone who was now d-e-a-d.

  “I-I don’t remember.”

  Suddenly, Holden’s legs were weak. He eased down onto the edge of the bed and focused on his breathing. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

  “Are you okay, Holden? Do you want me to get Mom?” Kam hopped off the bed and stood in front of Holden.

  “No. I’m all right. Just tired.” So tired.

  “I leave you alone then,” Kam said. “Extra clothes are in that closet and the bathroom’s through there.” He pointed to a door at the back of the guestroom. “You kinda look like you’re going to puke.”

  “I might.” Holden smiled at the kid. “I’ll try not to, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “When I puke, Mom lets me have homemade popsicles. They’re like magical. I always feel better after I eat them. I’ll tell her to make some.”

  Kam was gone before Holden could tell him that wasn’t necessary. Although, maybe magic popsicles were just what he needed.

  ****

  It had taken quite a bit of convincing, but Johanna managed to send Ted to the barn with a story about a rusty hinge on one of the doors. Was it the emergency she had made it sound? No. Was it necessary she get him away from Holden? Yes. The pilot needed rest, not some ornery guy grilling him about things he couldn’t remember anyway. She’d have to keep the two of them separated as much as she could. Ted wasn’t going to play nice. He didn’t trust Holden, and she couldn’t blame him either.

 

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