The Lost Fisherman Page 5

  “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 didn’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.”

  “What’s the rush? I don’t have to work. You don’t have to work. We might as well walk the aisles and let the end displays tell us what we didn’t know we needed,” said the guy who dragged me in and out of an apparel store in record time when I needed boots and a hard hat.

  Surrendering to the fact that I’d be making a second trip that day to get my tampons, I slid my basket back into the stack and followed Fisher’s lead.

  “So what are you getting?” I asked.

  “What are you getting? Show me your list and I’ll show you mine.”

  I rolled my eyes, despite my grin and complete feeling of bliss. “My list is in my head.”

  “Mine too.”

  I giggled as we strolled through the electronics aisles. “Then how are you going to ‘show’ me your list?”

  “I assumed you could read my mind. You know … since you guessed my favorite drink.”

  “I didn’t guess.” I playfully nudged his good arm as we crossed over into the cards and party stuff.

  “Did you get lots of birthday parties when you were a kid?” He grabbed a big party hat from a tall stack and set it on my head.

  I kept walking down the aisle with the hat on my head. “I got lots of parties since I was an only child, until Rory went to prison. Mostly Disney princess parties. What about you?” I snagged a funny pair of glasses that had a big nose and mustache attached to them. Then I slipped it onto Fisher’s face.

  “Oh yes. My parents have always celebrated everything. And I have a huge family, so even things that weren’t a big deal seemed like one because fifty gazillion people were there, and that was literally ‘close family.’ You were at the hospital. Tell me the waiting room wasn’t filled to capacity with my family.”

  I laughed as we continued to stroll, garnering funny looks from other shoppers since I still had on the hat and he wore the glasses. “Point made.”

  “Do you use an alarm clock?” Fisher picked up a retro looking alarm clock, the kind with an actual bell.

  “I use my phone. Does anyone use an alarm clock?”

  He pointed to the clock in his hands. “Someone does.”

  “Fake plants or real plants?” I buried my nose in a fake bouquet of decorative flowers.

  “Real.”

  “Agreed.” I nodded.

  “Halloween. Best holiday ever or most annoying holiday ever?” Fisher asked when we crossed a main aisle to the seasonal displays. Lots of Halloween stuff.

  “I’m inclined to say best.”

  He wrinkled his nose at my answer.

  I turned to face him, holding onto the cart while walkin
g backward. “And before you unfairly judge me, you have to know that after Rory went to prison, I didn’t get to go to parties because my grandparents said Halloween was Satan’s holiday, so my dad caved to their nonsense and didn’t let me go. Then he died and I didn’t have a prayer of ever going to anything fun like a costume party. So imagine my excitement when my roommates wanted to have a Halloween party my first year of nursing school.”

  He grinned, matching mine. “Let me guess, you dressed up as a naughty nurse.”

  “Pfft …” I shook my head.

  I totally dressed up as a naughty nurse. I also had sex with Batman that night. Good sex. Two beers, lowered inhibitions, and false confidence sex.

  Naughty nurse ended up dating Batman for eight weeks.

  Fisher eyed me through his funny glasses. “Then what was your costume?”

  “Um …” I glanced around as if I’d see something and use it.

  “You were a naughty nurse.”

  “I wasn’t!” I giggled.

  “Liar.”

  I turned forward again, still giggling. He knew. And I could no longer hide it.

  We spent an hour in Target. There was a lot one could learn about a person by spending an hour with them in Target, such as neither one of us cared that people were looking at us in our hat and glasses.

  Fisher was a huge Star Wars fan.

  I owned over thirty Barbies by the time I was ten.

  We both loved big mirrors.

  Fisher had never played pickle ball.

  And I was a sucker for bookends in the shape of animals. Specifically elephants.

  “Your list … what did you need?” he asked as we approached the pharmacy area.

  I sighed, no longer feeling like I wanted to hide my list and come back later. “I need deodorant and tampons. What do you need?” I quickly countered before he had a chance to react to the tampons.

  “Mouthwash and condoms.”

  Gulp …

  He steered the cart toward the tampons first.

  Figures.

  “Applicator? No applicator? Regular? Super? These are made with organic cotton in case your vagina is eco-conscious.”

  And there it came … that blush only Fisher could bring out of me so quickly. I snagged the box I needed and tossed it into the cart.