by Vivian Arend
Janey towered over her, a frown creasing her forehead as she tapped her foot on the hardwood floor. “Maybe I should do the same with Len. Your brother is the most frustrating man I’ve ever met. I mean, I all but offered myself up on a silver platter to him once…”
Katy raised both brows in disbelief.
A guilty snort escaped Janey. “Okay, more than once, but you know, every single time he’s turned me down.” Her eyes widened to huge circles for a second, then her lashes fluttered like some regency heroine. “What if it’s hopeless? Maybe Len isn’t attracted to me. Oh dear, what if he’s sick of me being around, and he’s been humouring me all this time? What if I never get to experience those hunkalicious arms wrapped around me, or feel his beefy body pressed firmly against mine?”
Katy laughed at the obvious melodrama. “First, no one talks like that. And second, you’re nauseating me. I get that you like my brother, but ick on the sexy talk about him. I don’t need to know that stuff.”
“You mean I can’t share detailed accounts of our wild nights of debauchery with you?”
Even as Katy laughed, her stomach rolled again. “No. Once you get debauched, you’re on your own.”
Janey settled on the coffee table, and her laughing smile faded slightly. “Okay, I’ll stop teasing. If you’re not up for the party, we’ll make sure we track Gage down some other time.”
“Now we sound like big-game hunters or something. ‘Don’t shoot until you can spot the blue in their eyes.’ I don’t know that two against one is sporting.”
“Screw sporting. We want what we want, and we both deserve great guys.” Janey leaned forward and squeezed Katy’s knee. “Seriously for a minute, you’re still my best friend. No matter what changes you’re going through since the accident. I have to keep telling myself that while you look exactly the same, you’re different.”
“That’s encouraging.” Katy pulled a face. “I think.”
Janey blew a raspberry. “Oh come on, you know what I mean. You’re still my friend, Katy, but you are changing, and I wanted to make sure you knew I like the new you as much as the old one. Remember that, okay?”
The sweet, caring smile on her friend’s face meant as much as the words did. “Thanks, Janey. I’m glad I’ve got you. Makes the changes a little less scary.” Gravel crunched outside, and she and Janey twisted to face the windows. The familiar pickup truck idling in her driveway did little to settle Katy’s stomach. “Damn.”
“Freak boy,” Janey muttered. “What the hell does he want?”
Katy intercepted the door before Janey could reach it. “I don’t care what he wants, he’s not getting it, not until I figure out what I want. But you have to promise me not to go off the deep end, or you can get your butt out the backdoor now.”
“Simon’s an ass.”
Katy snorted. “Yes, so you’ve told me, but you still can’t hit him.”
Janey sighed lustily. “Fine. I’ll stand way over here and will only kick his balls to Saskatchewan if he does something stupid. Deal?”
Overprotective, but Katy loved her friend for it. She wiggled her fingers and waited until Janey had taken a few steps away like she’d promised. “Be good.”
“Good as gold.”
Katy faced the door and waited for the knock that had to be coming. Seeing the doorknob twist first only increased her exasperation with her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend. Only confirmed what Janey had told her regarding Simon’s inappropriate behaviour.
She undid the deadbolt and jerked the door into the room in time to catch Simon with his hand raised, knuckles toward the wood.
He blinked in surprise then smiled. “Hey, girl. Looking good.”
“What do you want?” Small talk was out. Long discussions were out. Any involvement with the man was out. Not until she actually remembered what their situation was.
Sheer sadness crossed his face. “Now, sugar, don’t be like that. I take it you still don’t remember us. You’ve got to let me take care of you, hon. You’re so on your own here, and you don’t have to be.”
Out of the corner of her eye Katy spotted Janey stepping into view. “I’m not on my own, but thanks. You’re right, I still don’t remember.”
“Asshole. She broke up with you—”
Katy lifted a hand to stop Janey’s outburst. “Don’t you start.”
“But he—”
“Don’t,” Katy snapped.
Janey crossed her arms and glared daggers at Simon.
He shuffled slightly. “I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. See if there’s anything I can do.”
“I’m fine,” Katy insisted, the tug of unease at the back of her brain only increasing.
She knew she’d been going out with him. Janey and other people, including her brothers, had insisted they’d broken up. Simon insisted just as strongly that they had gotten back together the night before her accident.
The lack of certainty was making her crazy. Crazier.
It wasn’t as if they had to be together now even if they had been before, but Katy had to admit feeling a touch of sympathy for the guy if he was telling the truth.
Sympathy didn’t mean she was going to kiss him or automatically let him back into her life.
Simon looked her over slowly, sorrow deepening in his dark eyes. “If you need help, you be sure to let me know. I miss you, sugar.”
Janey made a vomiting noise in the background, and Katy schooled her expression to stop from smiling. “Thanks, Simon. But I really am fine.”
“You let me know if you think of anything. Or if you remember more, or if you just need to talk.” Simon caught her hand before she could step back. He lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed them tenderly. “I’m here for you.”
Nothing. No response to his touch and kiss. Well, nothing more than that constant roll of nausea that now might be caused from not eating all afternoon.
She extracted her hand and got Simon to leave with only one more rude comment from Janey.
Her friend plopped her fists on her hips and stared out the window as Simon backed out of the driveway. “Good riddance.”
“I like how you were so well behaved,” Katy deadpanned.
Janey waved farewell at the retreating back of Simon’s truck with her middle finger raised. “I was brilliant, wasn’t I?”
Laughter swelled up, and Katy let it free, hugging her friend before seeing Janey out the door with a promise to get together the next day.
There might be holes in her memory, and lingering frustrations, but there were a lot of good things in her life. Between Janey and her family, somehow she’d get through this rough patch, and make it out the other side.
Of course, thirty seconds later she was running to the bathroom to throw up, which erased a good portion of her optimism. It was tough to stay positive while bowing in front of the porcelain throne.
He hadn’t exactly sped the whole way home. Gage was sure there were a few sections of highway where he’d briefly slowed to the speed limit. When there were too many cars for him to dodge.
Since the plane dropped him off at six a.m., he’d been going nonstop. Pretty much like he’d been going for the previous two months. Working like a madman before falling exhausted into bed for a few hours to get up and do it all over again.
The good part was the blistering pace kept him from obsessing about Katy before falling asleep. It did nothing to stop the dirty dreams that invaded his brain and had him waking with more than simple morning wood.
With a very short stop for a shower and a nice paycheque in his pocket, he’d crawled into his car and hit the road. Even the two-month growth of beard he left unshaved, because it would take too long to deal with.
He wanted to see Katy.
Driving with one hand, he used the other to check his mail. There were a mess of texts and emails in his inbox, most of it spam, but none from her. The message he’d sent to Clay moments before leaving had bounced back as well with a Message undeliverable.
Recipient’s mailbox is full. Fatal daemon error.
Curses drifted through his brain. He punched in Katy’s number only to have the phone die on him, the battery dead. Fine. It was more important to be there and do the next thing in person anyway.
Like sweep Katy up in his arms and kiss her senseless.
The entire drive he daydreamed about where he’d find her. Timing-wise she should be at home, so he ignored his own place, and the garage, and took the back loop. The sight of her car in the drive made his heart leap, and he parked in the second snow-free space in a rush, damn near leaping from the truck. Somehow he forced his feet to a walk instead of rushing her front door and bursting in like a maniac.
He rang the doorbell.
Knocked.
Rang again.
It might be rude, but he even leaned over and peered in the window, to see if she was around. A pair of winter boots lay haphazardly under the hall coat rack, a small puddle of water pooled under the soles. Her coat was there—only no sign of her.
He moved to knock a second time but was interrupted by Katy’s less-than-ladylike cussing. Gage tried the front door, and it opened easily.
“Katy? You here?” Both feet still on the outside stoop, he stuck his head around the doorframe to make himself heard.
A new set of sounds greeted him, less amusing than the curses. Retching and coughing, and Gage couldn’t stand it any longer. He stormed forward and headed toward the bathroom.
“Katybug, you okay?”
She was seated on the floor, her cheek resting on one arm as she basically clung to the toilet. Her eyes were closed, and her face twisted in a grimace as she shuddered then leaned forward and spat.
“Oh hell, you got a stomach bug?”
Or that’s what Gage intended to say. He got out the Oh hell part before Katy’s eyes flew open and her gaze landed on him, all traces of nausea and exhaustion vanishing as she opened her mouth and screamed. She scrambled to her feet, hands flailing, a riot of noise and motion.
Damn. He held out a hand toward her. “Katy, hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Gage.”
He ducked away from the toilet plunger she’d swung like a sword. At the same time he examined her quickly—noting her pale skin. The dark shadows under her eyes.
The business end of the plunger wavered in front of him as he took in her extremely short-cropped hair, the dark strands that usually would have covered her shoulders only about an inch long over her entire head. It was a radical change from before. Kinda cute, really, but unexpected.
“Gage?” She squinted, her head tilting to the side and making her rather adorable. Well, adorable if she weren’t still threatening him with a toilet cleaner.
He took hold of the handle and tugged the shaft from her fingers, putting the weapon back in its place. “Yes, Gage.”
“I don’t remember this at all,” she muttered. “You’re not you.”
He laughed, then caught her as she swayed. “And you must be running a fever or something.”
She squirmed out of his arms and backed away slowly. “No fever. My stomach’s upset. Feels better now.” She looked him up and down quickly. “You’re missing your surprise party.”
Utter dread joined the disappointment in his gut. That was the last thing he wanted tonight. “Don’t tell me there are people over at my house.”
Katy nodded then gestured toward the bathroom door. “Umm, if you don’t mind. I need to brush my teeth. And stuff.”
Of course she did. “You sure you feel okay?”
“Yeah.” She waved him out, frowning as if confused.
His beard must be worse than he imagined.
“I’ll wait in the living room.” He thought about stealing a hug, but the last time he’d been in her shoes no way would he have wanted to get up close and personal with anyone right after throwing up.
He headed back to the living room, pausing to remove his boots and wipe up the snow he’d tracked in during his mad rush to help her. That’s when he noticed there were other changes in her house since September. A lot more stuff for one thing. Fabric and paintbrushes in the hall, a stack of clothes draped over a chair in the kitchen beside a sewing machine. He had to move aside a pile of what looked like jigsaw puzzle pieces before he could sit on the couch.
It was as if a whirlwind had hit—it wasn’t the spotless, nearly OCD-organized place he’d visited over the years.
Gage rose to his feet as she approached a few minutes later. “Better?”
She waved away his concern. “Fine. Just a touch off for a few days.”
He couldn’t wait any longer, closing the distance between them. If she was sick, that eliminated a too-personal welcome home, but that was okay. They’d leapt in at the start. Now he could go a little slower. Care for her. Take his time to make sure they had a solid foundation. He caressed the peach-fuzz softness just above her ear, stroking gently. “I like your hair.”
Katy touched her head self-consciously. “It’s okay. It’s grown a lot since the accident.”
The bottom fell out of his stomach. “Accident? What accident?”
She snorted before jerking to a stop, the golden flecks in her dark brown eyes flashing at him in the light. “You’re serious. You didn’t know I went into the ditch?”
He grabbed her hands tight. “I had no idea. I emailed you from Fort Mac before I went into the bush, and I haven’t heard a thing since then. What happened?”
Katy stared at their joined hands, her mouth hanging slightly open. “Umm, Gage. It’s okay. I mean it happened two months ago.”
Her unease increased, and her body grew stiffer. Instead of curling up against him like he’d hoped, she withdrew, and the whole situation grew more awkward by the minute.
When she pulled her hands free, he let her go. Let her increase the distance between them. He attempted to focus on the other issue at hand. “You hit the ditch. Everything okay?” A snatch of memory struck him. “I thought your car was in the shop.”
She pulled a face. “I guess that checkup was overdue. The brakes weren’t good, or that’s what they told me. The accident is a complete blur, though, so I’m not sure.”
Gage glanced out the window. “Your car looks fine.”
“Small mercies. No damage to it, other than the brakes. They told me I did a good job of driving her down the embankment. Never lost control or spun out—they could tell that from the tire tracks or something.”
She was leaning on the wall opposite him now, a good five feet between them. Gage felt wrapped in cotton. “So…how do we get from your great ditch driving to your hair being cut off?”
Katy took an enormous breath and let it out slowly. “They told me I bumped my head. Hard enough they shaved my hair off so they could attach test thingies. After a week’s testing when nothing showed up on their machines, they told me I was fine.”
Gage was the one frowning now, his entire body tensing as he slipped the clues together. “You keep saying ‘they told me’. You don’t remember the accident?”
She shook her head, frustration obviously rising. “I don’t remember the accident, plus there are a few other gaps. I lost a ton of long-term memory as it relates to math—passwords, formulas and things like that. So it’s nice you sent me an email, but I never got it. I had to set up a new email account because I couldn’t get into the old one.”
His jaw had to be hanging open, and his feet were pinned in place now, hands dangling uselessly by his sides.
Katy had lost her memory?
Had she forgotten them? If so, she’d have forgotten what they’d done. What they’d planned.
It would explain so much in terms of her discomfort with him—more than only nerves at having him back around after a long break.
He forced himself to speak even though his mouth had gone totally dry. “So…this amnesia. How extensive is it?”
Katy shrugged. “A couple weeks before the bump are fuzzy or gone—I’m not sure now what are real memories and what are th
ings I’ve been told.”
“A couple…”
It was true. In one swoop their future was rearranged. He wasn’t about to pick her up caveman-like and tell her that they were another thing she’d forgotten. Not when she was still fighting frustration along with whatever else had her at less than one hundred percent physical health at the moment.
He also had no intention of letting her get away. The dilemma of how to move forward threw him into a tailspin.
As out of control as a car skidding into a ditch.
6
Katy couldn’t look away. The mustache and thick beard covering his lower jaw were part of it—the only thing familiar on Gage at first had been his eyes. Even they seemed slightly different, though, as she’d never seen him stare back at her with quite that expression before.
The one that said he was a split second away from swooping in to protect her. Which she might have liked the idea of in principle, but right now, no way.
After two months of having people walk on eggshells around her, she did not need another babysitter. Especially not Gage. Her own big brothers were more than enough of a pain in the patootie. Having the guy who turned her insides to sexual jelly acting all sympathetic and concerned—
Nope. She wanted him looking at her with a grown-up expression, not as if she were delicate china. Even if currently she was concentrating very hard to stay vertical and not dash back to the bathroom.
Stupid stomach flu.
Another wave of dizziness struck. “Gage—this is fun and all, but I need to call it a night. You’ve got people at your place, and I want to crash.”
Gage blinked before straightening, the entire solid package of male shifting awkwardly toward the door. Like he was hesitating between reaching for her or following her request.
He made a noise. A deep and grumbly complaint kind of like a possessive bear, and if she’d felt a smidgen better, it would have made her toes curl with delight.
She slipped past him and caught the doorknob, swinging the door open so she could use the solid frame as an anchor to keep herself vertical.