Finding West

by June Gray

  I gave her the steady gaze that I knew made her squirm. “But you wanted me here. I bet nobody else can say the same.”

  “You’re a cocky bastard, did you know that?” But even as she said those caustic words, I spied the playful hint in her eyes. Kat, despite her armor, had let me in.

  Kat went back to her work room and didn’t come back out until I knocked on the door and announced that dinner was served. I ran back to the table, turned the lights off, and waited by her chair, eager to see the surprised reaction on her face.

  But it was I whose mouth hung open in shock when she emerged from the shadows of the hallway wearing a floor-length red dress that clung to her curves, the collar scooped so low I was instantly hard in my pants. She stuck one leg out through a slit that went halfway up her thighs, revealing black stiletto heels. With her hair twisted up into a bun and only a hint makeup on her face, she had never looked more radiant. Just the sight of her called something in me, some primal need to conquer and mate, and God help me, I wanted to answer it.

  When I failed to form words, she bit her lower lip and tugged the collar up. “I’ll go change. It’s too much, or too little. Or whatever.”

  “No!” I held my hands out as I approached her, stopping a few feet away. “It’s perfect.”

  She folded her arms across her stomach, looking uncomfortable. “I just thought I’d wear something nice to dinner.”

  I reached out, wanting nothing more than to run my fingers along her bare arm, but stopped myself. My eyes were no doubt burning with lust already; if I touched her now, I’d definitely scare her away. “I’m afraid my dinner is not worthy,” I said and walked back to the table, holding her chair out. “And I’m way underdressed for the lady.”

  “I’m no la—” She sucked in a breath when she saw the glowing table, all set up with plates, glasses, and candles. She was quiet for a long while, eerily still as she stood beside me.

  “Kat? You okay?” Even as I asked, I realized what had stolen the breath from her lungs. “Nobody has ever done this for you, have they?”

  She turned her head away. “I haven’t ever asked.”

  Dinner was quiet and somewhat awkward. Kat ate her roasted chicken and asparagus without saying much, glancing at me beneath her eyelashes and looking away quickly. She kept tugging at the low collar of her dress, drawing my eye to the exact place she was aiming to hide.

  Finally, I reached over and touched her hand. “Relax. It’s just me.”

  She flashed me a tight smile. “I’m just not used to wearing a dress this constricting,” she said, adjusting the dress again. “I feel like it’s going to rip at any moment.”

  Without another word, I stood up and walked to the living room, coming back a few minutes later with her laptop. I placed it on the counter and held my hand out to her just as a slow song began to play. “Let’s put that dress to the test.”

  She didn’t move for a long time. Her eyes just flicked between my hand and my face, no doubt trying to gauge my motives. Eventually, she stood up on her own and said, “I can’t dance.”

  I grinned, taking one step closer. “That’s okay. I’m not so sure I can either.” She was stiff when I took her wrists and placed her hands around my neck, then took hold of her hips. We began to sway with the music, the gentle waves of the rhythm carrying our bodies along. I slipped my hands around to sit at the small of her back, and with each step, she let me pull her closer until her body was flush against mine. Eventually, she wound her arms around my neck, pressing her cheek against my shoulder.

  I could feel her rapid heartbeat against my chest, and knew that she must be feeling mine. She sighed, a release of her worries and inhibitions.

  “Someday we’ll do this again,” I said against her ear.

  “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Lloyd.”

  “Who says I don’t?” I asked, pulling away so I could look at her face. “I’m going to lay it all out for you, just so there’s no doubt. I care about you, and I’m fairly certain you care about me.”

  “There you go again, making assumptions. You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Kat. I know you well enough to—”

  She covered my mouth with her hand. “You talk too much.”

  I smiled into the soft skin of her palm and let my fingers glide up the curve of her back, my palm coming to rest at the exposed skin of her neck. I waited, trying to convey with my eyes what it was I was waiting for.

  Indecision flew across her face until finally she pulled her hand away. With my hand on her neck, I tipped her head back and touched my lips to hers. She made a sound at the back of her throat and grabbed my hair, deepening the kiss. In response, my hands slipped back down, caressing the firm globes of her ass before pulling her against my erection.

  I waited for her protestations, but none came. Instead, her tongue wrestled with mine as she kissed me with unrestrained need. She hadn’t been kissed like this in a while—maybe ever—and I needed to show her what she was missing.

  When she pulled away, she stared at me with a mixture of fear and desire. With her chest heaving, she shook my hands off and stepped away, covering her reddened lips with a hand.

  For my part, I couldn’t do anything other than stand there and gawk. The taste of her had successfully rendered me silent. I put my hands in my pockets, trying to discreetly adjust the uncomfortable tightness in my jeans.

  She smoothed her hands down the front of her legs. “I think I’d better go change,” she said and disappeared into her bedroom, locking the door to let me know I wasn’t invited.

  11

  KAT

  Holy shit.

  I pressed my back against the door, trying to control my breathing. My body felt like it was on fire—my throat dry and my legs weak from that one kiss.

  Kiss: that word didn’t seem enough for what we’d just done. Mouth-fucking more like. I could still taste him, could still feel his warm tongue invading my mouth, could still feel his hands sliding all over my body. My face heated up at the thought of his hard length digging into my hip. He’d felt so ready.

  The question was: was I?

  I changed out of my dress and shoes and into my usual sweats and hung the dress up in my closet, a little surprised that the seams were holding together. It was safer to be in my regular baggy clothes, far easier to evade the advances of an incredibly sexy man. If he found me attractive in this grey cotton cocoon of ambiguity, then there was definitely something wrong with his head.

  He stood up from the couch when I came out of my room. Apparently I’d been gone long enough that he had time to clean up the table and wash the dishes. “We need to talk about that kiss,” he said, standing up.

  “No, we don’t,” I said.

  The skin between his eyebrows wrinkled. “We can’t just ignore what happened.” He motioned to the space between us. “Something’s going on here.”

  I swallowed hard, my heart pounding wildly at the thought of confronting my growing feelings for him. There had been something in that kiss, but what would it cost me to admit it aloud?

  “Know what? You can pretend to yourself that you don’t feel it, but you’re not fooling me. You’re not fooling the sheriff either.”

  “What would you know about me and Drew?”

  “Absolutely nothing apart from the fact that even he could tell you wanted me here,” he said. “And he wasn’t very happy about it.”

  I toyed with the sleeves of my sweatshirt. “This isn’t about him.”

  “You’re right. This is ninety percent about you.” His eyes bore into mine, trying his best to unnerve me. “And ten percent me.”

  “I’d be fucking stupid if I developed feelings for someone who doesn’t remember who they are,” I finally said. “What if you’re married? What if you have kids?”

  He held out his left hand. “I’m not wearing a ring, or the telltale white line that means I used to wear one.”

&nbs
p; I smacked his hand away. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “It proves I’m not married,” he said, slipping his hands in his pants pocket. “But that’s not the real issue here, is it? Your real worry is that I’ll get my memory back and I won’t want you anymore. You think that the person I used to be won’t think you’re worthy.”

  My chest hurt with his words because even though they weren’t said with malice, they were still tinged with the same spite as the taunts back in high school. “Fuck off,” I said, feeling the sting of tears at the corner of my eyes. I turned away. “I’m going to bed.”

  He stepped around me and blocked the way to my bedroom with his large body, his arms folded across his chest. He looked so daunting and a little more than irritated. “Fine, but think about this—” He grabbed the sides of my head and kissed me hard. There was desperation in this kiss; the way his lips mashed against mine, the insistent thrust of his tongue as he devoured me.

  My body gave in and I found myself sighing into his mouth once again despite myself. Being so easily manipulated made me feel weak but I couldn’t fight it, not when my entire body wanted him so badly it trembled with his touch.

  He bit my lower lip and sucked on it a moment before pulling away. He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek and then breathed against my ear, “With or without my memory, I will never not want you, Kat.”

  Then he left me standing by myself, aching all over from his absence.

  When I was seven—a year after my mother abandoned us—my dad decided to start a tradition. We were sitting around, a little depressed that our Thanksgiving meal had turned out shitty, when my dad stood up and said, “Know what, Katie? There are plenty of other people out there who don’t even have a home to cook in. We shouldn’t be sitting around whining about how hard our life is because chances are, there’s someone out there who has it ten times worse.”

  That was the first year we volunteered at the homeless shelter and even after he went to jail, I continued the tradition, partly out of a need to lend a helping hand, but if I was being completely honest, it was mostly because I didn’t want to sit around during the holidays by myself. Being lonely was a bitch and I had no need for it.

  The day after that kiss I dressed in a nice sweater and jeans, intent on keeping up the tradition. I knocked on the stranger’s door—when did I stop calling it my father’s room?—but he didn’t answer. I turned the knob and peered inside… and scowled. The stranger was asleep on his stomach, his arms folded under the pillow, with my dog lying beside him, her head resting on the exposed skin on his back.

  “Josie, you traitor,” I hissed.

  She raised her head and gave me a look that seemed to imply I was jealous.

  I stepped closer, cringing when the floor creaked. “What if I am? I’m still your human.”

  She lay her head back down just in time for the stranger to open his eyes and offer up a sleepy smile to me. “Morning,” he croaked. He wrapped an arm around Josie and tucked her into his side, and damn it if that shit didn’t make me just that little bit more jealous.

  Snap out of it, Kat. You’re being ridiculous.

  He pulled aside the covers and patted the bed. “You want to come snuggle too?”

  I rolled my eyes despite every atom in my body pulling me towards him. But I was afraid of how nice it could be under there, how easily I could fall for him and this image of a life he was offering.

  The thing was, he had nothing to back up that offer. If, come tomorrow morning, he woke up and remembered his life before, this life he wants with me now would be abandoned. Eventually I’d become nothing but the forgotten details of his past.

  And I’d be damned if I subjected myself to that.

  I reached over and threw the blanket the rest of the way off him—a little disappointed to see he was wearing pajama pants under there—and enjoyed the ripple of goosebumps that broke out over his tanned skin. “Get up, we are going out,” I said, grabbing Josie’s collar and easing her off the mattress.

  He raised a dark eyebrow. “On a date?”

  “No,” I said, admittedly a little tickled by the idea. “We’re going to run an errand.”

  “Can it wait a few minutes?” he asked, pulling the blanket over himself again.

  I huffed impatiently. “Why?”

  He flashed me a sheepish grin. “There’s uh, a situation that needs a minute to resolve itself.”

  I snorted when I realized what he was talking about. “You mean morning wood?” I asked. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  “In that case…” He got up and out of the bed and stood in front of me, his chest bare, his hair rumpled. At the front of his cotton pants a thick erection was outlined, tenting the fabric.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help myself; I was so nervous and thrilled and had no idea how to express it.

  “Well, that reaction will certainly take care of it,” he said, stepping around me to reach for his jeans on the ground.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh,” I said. “Would it make you feel better if I said you had a nice package?”

  “No,” he said. “You hurt its feelings. Now kiss it better.” He looked over his shoulder on the way out of the room and chuckled at my shocked expression. “I’m kidding, Kat.”

  Kidding or not, now the image was stuck in my head. Damn him.

  A while later we arrived at the town of Cormack, which was only slightly bigger in size than Ayashe but had a much higher population count.

  “Was that the prison where your dad is? The one we passed a mile back?” my passenger asked as I pulled into the nursing home parking lot.

  “Yep, that’s the place.” I got out of the car, not in the mood to talk about my dad.

  “So this town has a prison and a nursing home?” he asked as he followed me to the door. “How…”

  “Sad?” I offered, walking inside the lobby like I’d done a few times before. “It’s the town where people are sent against their will.”

  He scrunched his eyes then, thinking about something.

  “What is it?”

  “I think… I think my grandma is in a nursing home or some sort of assisted living center.”

  My eyes widened, my heart beat double time. “You remember something?” I asked, silently pleading that he was just mistaken, that he was just remembering something on television last night.

  His eyes met mine and I knew that wasn’t the case. “Yes,” he breathed.

  “But does that mea—”

  We were interrupted by the orderly who came out of big double doors. “Merry Christmas, Kat,” he said. “Come on in.”

  “What are we doing here?” the stranger asked in a low voice as we followed the orderly inside the badge-operated doors. “Do you have a relative here?”

  “No, we’re volunteering,” I said, enjoying the look of surprise that crossed over his face. “What?” I asked after a few moments of being stared at.

  “I just didn’t take you for a volunteering kind of girl.”

  “I volunteered to keep you from becoming an icicle, didn’t I?”

  He nudged me with his elbow. “You know what I mean,” he said. “You’re just… let’s just say people who volunteer at nursing homes are usually the friendly type.”

  “I’m friendly,” I said, pinning a visitor badge to my sweater. “And warm and fuzzy.”

  “As warm and fuzzy as a cactus.”

  I laughed. Yes, that about summed me up.

  12

  STRANGER

  After handing our coats to the orderly, Kat and I entered a large room full of elderly people, most of whom were in wheelchairs or wingback chairs. Some people sat around a widescreen television watching A Christmas Story, while others sat staring into space or out the window. Even with all of the twinkle lights, wreaths and other Christmas decorations around the room, I couldn’t help but feel the inherent loneliness of the place. I supposed it was why Kat volunteered here, because sh
e too had an innate loneliness about her.

  “So what would you like to do?” she asked.

  I looked around and had absolutely no clue where to begin. “What do you usually do?”

  “I usually read to a few of them, or play a board game. Or sometimes I just sit and talk with them.”

  I looked around the room, still unsure of where to start. “So I just walk up to someone and strike up a conversation?”

  “Basically.” Her blue eyes flew to my face, a slight tug at the corners of her mouth. “But I’m guessing the females will be more receptive to your brand of charm.”

  I held her gaze for a long time, feeling something electric passing between us. “Kat, I’d still like to talk about what happened last night.”

  “Well I don’t,” she said, turning away, leaving me standing by myself among these strangers.

  I let out a huff through my nose and approached an older lady in a wheelchair. She lit up when she saw me crouch by her side.

  “Hi,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Oh!” she said, grabbing me by the cheeks without hesitation. For a moment, I wondered if she recognized me, but then she said, “You are so handsome!”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Call me Lorna.” She looked across the room and called out, “Janice, come here and see this handsome young thing.”

  “I’ll be right there!” came a voice from the other side of the room, and fairly soon, I was engrossed in a conversation.

  I talked to several people during the visit, but Lorna monopolized most of my time, asking to wheel her around. I kept glancing over at Kat, who was playing backgammon with an elderly gentleman, looking very comfortable and sure of herself.

  As if sensing my gaze, she looked away from her game and looked at me across the room. I felt it again, that attraction that arched between us. I remembered last night, how hard it had been to leave her alone after having kissed her.

  “Are you and that young lady dating?” Lorna asked me, breaking through my thoughts.