by Jewel E. Ann
“I’m running late, babe!” Angie appeared in the doorway in a pantsuit and her handbag dangling from one arm. She lifted onto her toes and kissed him on the lips. He kissed her back.
It wasn’t a long kiss, but it wasn’t one sided either.
“Morning, Reese. Can’t stay and chat. Byeee!” She waved to me with her left hand, big diamond, and manicured nails, just before hopping into her car.
I mumbled a barely audible “hi” and turned my attention to the resurrected naked fisherman. As I made my way to the front porch, he watched Angie back out of the driveway before shifting his attention to me.
“Good morning.”
My gaze struggled to stay on his face.
“Not pretty, huh?” he said.
I shook my head as if I hadn’t been staring at his road rash that was healing fairly well. “You’re alive. I think the prettiness of your skin should be an afterthought.”
He retreated into the house, leaving the door open—which I took as an invitation to go inside.
“Angie seemed in a good mood. You must have done something right for once.”
He continued down the hallway toward his (their) bedroom. “Apparently she just needed to get laid. Had I known, I could have obliged her sooner.” He shut the door behind him.
That was a pretty hard hit. It took a good pep talk to get my emotions in check before he reemerged from the bedroom.
He proposed to her.
She said yes.
Even if he didn’t remember her, it didn’t mean they couldn’t have sex. Sex didn’t have to involve emotions. Men paid for sex with prostitutes—not that Angie was a prostitute or Fisher was the kind of guy who would pay for sex. I needed a way to wrap my brain around it before the disappointment sent me spiraling out of control.
I took a seat at the island in the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came into the room in jeans and a white tee. Hair still wet. “My dick works, Nurse Capshaw. In case you’re still concerned.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and dropped two slices of bread into the toaster.
My breakfast was a mini vomit in my mouth that I swallowed back down. “Still so crude.”
“Crude?” He turned and leaned his butt against the counter, sipping his coffee. “Was I crude to you?”
Did he want the truth?
“Had my mom not been living in your basement, I’m pretty sure I could have won a sexual harassment lawsuit against you and your crudeness.” I might have been feeling a bit feral and defensive after confirmation that he screwed Angie the previous night.
How dare he have sex with his fiancée. (Internal eye roll at myself).
“Are you…” he squinted at me “…serious? I was inappropriate with you?”
Wow! It seemed to really bother him.
I gave my answer some thought. Of course, my knee-jerk response would have been, “You zip-tied me to a stool and ate me out.” That response gave away too much information. I wasn’t actively trying to break up his engagement. Not consciously, anyway.
“You had a gift for making me blush. That’s all.”
He kept his mouth hidden behind his coffee mug. Was he grinning?
“Do tell. What kinds of things did I do to make you blush?”
“I …” I laughed. “I’m not going to tell you. I’m sure most of it was because I was young. I’d spent the previous three years in a Christian academy, and Rory was gone, so I think you were bored. Embarrassing me became your favorite pastime.”
After another sip of his coffee, he set his mug on the counter. “Well, I’m sorry.” He seemed serious.
The long moment of silence conveyed a level of genuineness. Then a case of untimely giggles hit me. I just … started laughing, and I couldn’t stop.
Even with my hand cupped at my mouth, my laughter continued. “I’m … I’m sorry. I just don’t believe you.”
“What don’t you believe?”
“That …” I took a deep breath to control my laughter. “That you’re sorry. You told me your dick still works.”
“Only because yesterday you asked me if it worked.”
“As a nurse. I asked you in a professional way.”
“But you’re not my nurse, so it made you look like my friend’s daughter simply asking about my dick.” He retrieved the butter from the fridge.
“No peanut butter? You can’t possibly be out of peanut butter.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s up with that. Everyone tells me I love peanut butter. Rory made peanut butter cookies. I mean, it’s all right, but I don’t feel a big love for it.”
“I hate it.”
“Really? That’s interesting. I don’t know what I hate. Or I don’t remember what I hate. It’s weird how some things are clear and other things just don’t exist. Not like I don’t remember them well, it’s that they are not there at all.”
I nodded. “The brain is a mysterious place. For everything we do know about it, there seems to be so much we still don’t know and may never fully understand. Don’t stress over it.”
“I’m not, but I feel the stress from everyone around me.”
I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing more about it for a minute or so before changing the subject. “I brought you some crossword puzzles.” I set the folder on the counter.
“Oh …” He glanced over his shoulder. “Are we done talking about my memory and my dick?” That smirk …
Different guy, yet same guy. Just missing a few memories.
“I hope so. Do you need help spreading that on your toast?”
“Do I look like I do?” He had butter on his cast and his toast kept slipping off his plate onto the counter as he tried to spread it.
“No. You don’t. You look like you have everything under control.”
He hugged the tub of butter to his chest with his casted arm and used his good hand to press the lid back onto it. After he returned it to the fridge, I noticed a glob of smeared butter on his shirt. Rolling my lips between my teeth, I kept silent.
“You not working today?” He looked down, frowning at his shirt.
“I start my new job on Monday. Are you not working today? Because you clearly could do about anything. That cast isn’t holding you back one bit.” I snorted.
Fisher glanced up, eyes narrowed. “Are you picking on a disabled person? How Christian of you.”
“Sorry. What can I do for you today? Rake the leaves in your yard? Shave your scruffy face?”
“My face?” He paused his chewing. “Angie said I needed to shave or at least trim my beard. She offered to do it, but I said I could do it myself.”
“Of course you did.” I smirked. “If you were left-handed, you’d be fine. But you’re not left-handed.”
“You know my handedness?”
“Yes, but if there was any question, that butter fiasco I just witnessed confirmed it.”
“Smart ass.” He ate his toast.
I watched him eat it. And we shared familiar glances. Well, familiar to me.
“I’ll let you trim my beard. But you can’t tell anyone.”
“Okay. Why is that?”
“Because I want Angie to think I did it on my own.”
“You do realize … this is the woman you asked to marry you. The whole ‘in sickness and in health’ thing. Right?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t propose. She did.”
“Uh … you remember that?”
“She told me. She’s told me everything. I officially have all the memories of our life thus far; they just aren’t mine. They’re hers, which makes it about as real to me as someone reading me a fictional book.”
“And she proposed?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel about that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked her if she knew why I hadn’t proposed.”
“What did she say?”
“She said I needed a nudge.”
“Interesting.” That shocked me. Rory did
n’t tell me Angie was the one who proposed. “Well … are you done? If I’m going to secretly trim your beard, I should do it now. I have some errands to run.”
“Okay. We can do it now.” He set his plate in the sink and nodded toward the hallway.
I followed him to the master bathroom where he shrugged off his shirt with his good arm and tossed the shirt on the floor.
“Have you trimmed a beard before?” he asked, pulling the trimmer from its base and turning it on like he was testing the battery.
“Yes. I’ve trimmed lots of things.” I plucked the trimmer from his hand. “Sit.” I nodded to the vanity bench that wasn’t there when Fisher lived alone.
He sat down, draping a towel over his lap to catch the hair. I focused on his face. Not his scars. And definitely not his abs or happy trail. Nope. I was a total professional. Except for my thoughts. They played in my head like a day at an amusement park.
I’ve been in that tub naked.
I know what your penis looks like because I gave you a blowjob in that doorway to your closet.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“What?” I turned on the trimmer.
“You were grinning.”
I really needed to practice a straight face while fantasizing about the naked fisherman.
“Sorry. I won’t smile again.” I started near his sideburns.
“Don’t apologize. It’s a great smile.”
I felt his gaze on my face, but I kept my focus on the trimmers so I didn’t do anything stupid like nick his ear or kiss him.
“Did you leave a boyfriend behind in Michigan?”
He made it hard to control my breathing in his close proximity, and asking me personal questions didn’t help the situation. “I left several boyfriends behind in Michigan, but I left them long before I decided to move back here.”
“Do you like Colorado better than Michigan? Or did you want to be closer to family?”
I wanted to be closer to you.
“A little bit of both. I think I knew that if I didn’t move back here, your beard would never get trimmed.”
“Ha ha …”
I stole a tiny glance into his eyes before resuming the beard trim. “I do love it here. And I missed my mom. We no sooner reunited after five years of separation while in prison, and she left for California. Not long after she returned, I went to Thailand. Then Michigan.”
“It’s crazy that I remember Rory but I don’t remember her going to California.”
“Well…” I used my finger to tip his chin up “…if you remembered her going to California, then you would remember me.”
“True. What did you do in Thailand?”
I missed you. Developed feelings for another man. Gave away my virginity. Found my calling in life. And missed you some more.
“Mission trip. Originally, it was just going to be for six months. But the friend who convinced me to go, he wanted to stay for another six months. Best decision ever. I assisted a midwife. And that’s where I fell in love with midwifery. So I went back to Texas after Thailand, just long enough to have my grandparents help me get my tuition paid.”
“So you owe this guy, your friend, a big thanks for convincing you to go to Thailand.”
“I suppose I do.”
And Fisher. I owed him a thank-you for helping me see just how terrible the timing was for us.
“That’s pretty cool,” Fisher said. “I like when fate does its thing. Had a friend of my dad’s not given me a summer job with his construction company, I probably would have gone to college just to play sports. Who knows how that would have ended?” Fisher shrugged a shoulder. “Angie said she wanted me to play baseball in college. She thinks I would have gone pro.” He chuckled. “Apparently, I’ve known her since we were six. Our moms had our wedding planned before we left elementary school.”
“So … you remember that you love construction, but you don’t remember owning a construction company? And you remember your family, but you don’t remember the girl you met when you were six? The woman who you proposed … well, said ‘yes’ to?”
“Maybe it’s a sign.”
“A sign?” I tilted my head.
“Maybe it’s a sign we need more time.”
“Oof … I hope you haven’t said that to her.” I turned off the trimmer, removed the guard, and blew on the blades before returning the guard to its place and setting it on the counter.
Fisher ran his hand over his closely trimmed beard. “What if I don’t remember her? What if I don’t …” He rubbed his lips together, his gaze averted to the floor.
“What if you don’t what?” I took the towel from his lap and shook the whiskers into the trash.
“What if I don’t fall in love with her again?”
I coughed a laugh. “Um … you had sex with her last night.” I couldn’t look at him. I wasn’t eighteen, but I also wasn’t immune to the bathroom we were in or talking about sex with the naked fisherman.
He jerked his head back as if my statement made no sense. “Sex isn’t love.”
“It might be to your fiancée.”
“She wanted it. And you suggested my dick might not be working properly, so I did it. Now she’s happy. And Nurse Capshaw is satisfied too.”
I shook my head and cleared my throat while tossing the towel in the hamper. “Please don’t have sex with … anyone to satisfy me. I’m just an old employee, your friend’s daughter who you can’t remember. And …” I held up my arm to look at my watch, being very dramatic about it so he would drop the topic. “I need to run errands now.”
“Where are you going?” He followed me out of the bathroom.
“I just said I’m running errands.”
“Yeah, I’m not deaf. I meant, what errands?”
“Target and the uniform store to get some new scrubs.”
“You should invite me.”
As I reached his front door, I turned. “You think so?”
He shrugged, looking so handsome it made me want to cry. Stupid life timing. What I wouldn’t have given for him to have stepped closer, to have made me melt with one look.
Are you going to kiss me?
I’m thinking about it.
“Give me thirty minutes to get home and make my list. Then I’ll pick you up.”
A slow grin worked its way up his face, warming my skin and forcing my heart to do some silly beat skipping.
Chapter Eight
“Never thought I’d see this day,” I said as Fisher climbed into my vehicle.
“What day is that?” He fastened his seat belt.
“The day you jumped at a chance to go to Target and a uniform store because you’re so bored.”
“I’m not bored. In fact, I finished one of the crossword puzzles while waiting for you.”
Tossing him a quick glance, my eyes narrowed. “You didn’t. They weren’t easy puzzles.”
“Maybe not to you.” He stared out his window and shrugged.
He left me speechless for a few blocks.
“I need gas.” I pulled into a gas station. After filling the tank, I ran inside to get something.
Fisher eyed me and the drink in my hand when I returned.
“For you.” I handed him the plastic cup filled with red liquid.
“What is this?”
“Iced tea and fruit punch.” I handed him a straw too. “Your favorite.”
He ripped open the straw and poked it into the lid. “It is? How do I not remember things I like and dislike? Do I have food allergies? Will shellfish kill me? I mean … I don’t know.” He took a sip. “But what I do know is this is really good. I clearly knew my shit.”
I grinned, putting the car into Drive. “Easy partner. Your head’s getting too big.”
He took another long sip. “What else should I know about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I know everything about that Angie girl because she’s told me everything. She’s AB blood type. Allergic to walnuts.
Scared of spiders. And she cries easily.”
I laughed. “Well, hmm … I’m O-positive. No allergies. You already know I don’t like peanut butter. Spiders are okay. I like my coffee extra sweet. And I don’t watch a lot of TV.”
“I watch a lot of TV. It’s a distraction from the stranger living with me.”
“The stranger you had sex with last night.”
“Yes, to prove that my dick worked and to get her to stop being so weird.”
I giggled. “Weird? What do you mean by weird?”
“She’s constantly watching me. It’s creepy. And she’s too … cheery. Not like you.”
“Whoa … not like me?”
“No. You’re selectively happy. Which is normal in my mind. Like you are who you are. You could hate puppies and rainbows and not give a shit what anyone thinks about it.”
“I …” I shook my head. Was that how he saw me? “I do not hate puppies. But rainbows are a little overrated.”
His shoulders shook on a light chuckle as he sucked on the straw.
“I do like learning new things, and you taught me how to sand wood. Nothing too hard, but I asked you to teach me things, and you did. I still like hands-on things.”
“I taught you things? Sanding?”
I nodded.
“In my workshop?”
Another nod.
“Huh …” He seemed perplexed.
“Is that surprising?”
“I think so.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been told by more than one person that I like to do my own thing. I hire people who already know what they’re doing. I’m not much of a teacher. I don’t have enough patience.”
“Mmm …” I nodded. “They might be right. And I said you taught me. I didn’t say you were patient with me. I’m sure you indulged me just to be nice to Rory.”
Fisher hummed. “Maybe,” he murmured.
We pulled into Target. “Are you staying in the car? I only have a few things to grab.” Tampons. I needed tampons. And deodorant.
“No. I have my own list of things to get.” He climbed out of the vehicle.
After we walked into the store, he grabbed a shopping cart while I plucked a basket from the stack.
“You can just put your stuff in my cart.”
“Or you can get the stuff on your list and I can get the stuff on my list, and we can meet back here when we’re done.”