Jared Read online

  Kimber narrowed her eyes at him. Same handsome face, same hair, same great body, and same gestures. If she didn’t know better, she’d think this was Gerald’s twin.

  The good twin.

  “So I think it would do us both good to attend church this Sunday,” he continued. “You know, get in touch with our inner selves and make peace with the Big Guy for forgetting about all the good stuff He’s done for us. I understand He gets really ticked when people ignore Him.”

  “Church?”

  “Yeah. You know, the place with the steeple and the stained-glass windows,” he said as if she was the one who needed her memory jogged. “Or temple, if that’s your preference.”

  It had been a while since she’d last attended church. Ever since she’d become involved in the expansion plans, she had either worked on Sundays or been too tired to get up in time to go to the morning service, so she was certainly overdue.

  As for Jerry, it was possible he was searching for something to fill a void in his soul. Perhaps if he found spiritual peace, it would stay with him even after he regained his memory. Although she herself didn’t want to take another chance by becoming involved with him again, she hoped any such comfort he got from church would help make him a better person, both for himself and for the next woman in his life.

  “Okay,” she said. “We’ll go to church this Sunday, but you have to shave first.”

  Chapter Four

  Sunday morning, Kimber set out a can of shaving cream and a fresh razor on the bathroom counter. Then she went into the living room to read the paper before getting dressed for church.

  A moment later, he announced, “This is a leg razor.” A long pause followed. “A pink one.”

  “That’s okay,” she told him. “It’ll still do the job.”

  “But the guy on TV said a man needs a swiveling head.”

  Kimber stood up and fastened the robe tighter around her waist. Going to the bathroom, she reminded herself that he’d be returning to his own apartment in another week or two. Then she’d be able to pick up the pieces of her life.

  She entered the tiny room midway down the hall, and he smiled and proceeded to make a long sweep with the razor that extended from his left ear, down to his chin, and back up to his right ear.

  Kimber gasped. “Good heavens, you look like you’re trying to slit your throat. Give me that razor.”

  He did as he was told, and she reached up to blot the nick on his chin with a square of toilet paper.

  “Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” He obligingly turned toward her, and she lifted the razor to his face. “You have to take short, smooth strokes. Otherwise, you’ll look like you shaved with a kitchen blender.”

  Standing so close to him, she became increasingly aware of his impressive height. Even stooping over the crutches, he was tall enough to make her arms ache as she reached up to him. Her hand quivered, and she drew back.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  His brow furrowed, and Kimber was hauntingly reminded of the strong attraction she’d felt the first time she saw Gerald. Sure, he looked the same, except for a healing red line above his eyebrow and a few lingering bruises sprinkled across his body. But there was something different about him. About the way he looked at her as if he was committing the tiniest details of her image to memory.

  Kimber gave herself a mental shake. He was probably just recognizing something familiar in her features and trying to use them to dredge up lost memories. If she wasn’t careful, she might find herself falling for the temporary stranger in her bathroom.

  “It’s just awkward...standing here like this,” she said at last. “My arms are getting tired.”

  “What if I sit here,” he said, putting the lid down, “and you sit on the side of the tub?”

  That would put them at about the same level. Perhaps if he wasn’t towering over her, his closeness wouldn’t have such a strange effect on her. She propped his crutches behind the door and took a seat next to him.

  Once again, she lifted the razor to his face. She stroked it over his skin and thought of the times she’d watched him shave off his five o’clock shadow before going out for the evening. A man of habit, Gerald had a particular procedure for almost everything he did.

  It was as if he turned something as basic as grooming into a science. It was hard to imagine that, after so many years of shaving in a certain fashion, it hadn’t become second nature, something for which he didn’t have to remember the steps in order to do it.

  “Do like this,” she said and twisted her mouth to one side.

  Jerry stared at her lips and followed suit as she moved the razor over his flattened cheek. For some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. Sometimes, he had noticed, when she was dressed up, her lips were a deeper red.

  This morning, however, she hadn’t done whatever she normally did to transform her appearance. Her eyelashes, though dark, weren’t as black as usual, and her eyelids were free of the pale-brown shadows that made her irises appear as dark as the devil’s food cake he’d sampled last night.

  Up close like this, he could see the sprinkling of freckles across her nose that she usually managed to hide were on full display.

  Fascinating as all that was, it was her lips that held his attention. Though the rest of her features were angular and sharply defined, her mouth was soft and full. A tempting shade of pink, her lips somehow beckoned him.

  She directed him to lift his chin so she could shave under his jaw. He did as told, his gaze never leaving her mouth as she removed the last of his whiskers.

  Her lips tightened, and her tongue darted out. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, everything’s perfect.” Knowing that, as all humans, she must have flaws, Jerry found it hard to believe she could seem so incredibly perfect.

  “Oh, good. I was beginning to think I had egg on my face.”

  He couldn’t picture her with that yellow food marring her appearance. However, he remembered watching her eat pancakes with syrup this morning. He wondered if a remnant of the sticky sweet stuff clung to her lips, and the thought made him want to taste them to find out.

  Her tongue darted out again as she watched him watching her.

  Instinct took over. Jerry impulsively leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers. Sure enough, a hint of maple offered itself to him, and their lips pressed together.

  It was wonderful...much better than pancakes. He tried without success to compare it to a sensation he may have experienced before.

  The closest he could come was being fed peeled grapes while reclining upon a pristine chaise, but even that was a mere shadow to what was happening here in this small room. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, the idea of combining this feeling with lying on the chaise made his pulse pound in his temples.

  If he’d thought it was great before, Kimber made it glorious when she returned the gesture and kissed him back. His breathing quickened as Kimber’s hands went around his neck, urging him closer. Moving so that his bum leg stretched out to one side, he reached out to her.

  With his hands lightly touching her ribs, he steadied her in front of him while he admired the woman with the razor in one hand and his heart in the other. This wasn’t heaven, he knew, but it wasn’t far from it.

  Kimber gasped, and Jerry guessed she was enjoying this as much as he was. She squirmed in his arms, and she pulled back, breaking the contact of their lips. The look she gave him was one of fear and shame.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she said, standing abruptly, “I can’t believe I just let that happen.”

  ORGAN MUSIC SWELLED around them as they settled themselves into a pew near the aisle of the historic church.

  Kimber took a seat near the back and pointed beneath the pew in front of them for use as temporary crutch storage. He took a seat beside her and stretched out his right leg.

  The orange covering of his cast practically glowed neon where the severed pants seams didn’t meet. Des
pite his less-than-immaculate appearance, Jerry seemed pleased with the way he looked in the three-piece suit.

  “Cool,” he’d said when he caught sight of himself in the mirror this morning. If the old Gerald’s personality had returned, Kimber was certain he would have insisted on waiting until his leg healed before going out in public like this.

  He leaned toward her and whispered, “You tasted good.”

  She fidgeted beside him. If they were to get through these next couple of weeks, she would have to make sure he understood the ground rules. Otherwise, she’d be right back where she started...falling for a low-down, womanizing, arrogant—

  She stopped herself from further mental tirades. Besides, it wasn’t proper to think evil thoughts in church. Looking over at the man who sat so erectly beside her, she realized that he currently was none of the descriptions that had just played through her mind. But he wouldn’t remain this way.

  Kimber wanted his memory to return in order for his healing to be complete, but she couldn’t help wishing he’d stay like this.

  The doctor had seemed confident his memories would eventually return. And when they did, she didn’t want to become reinvolved with a man who thought so little of her love that he’d destroy their relationship for a short time in a cheap motel.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said about the kiss they’d shared this morning.

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He looked down and said thoughtfully, “Next time, I’ll make myself a pancake. But, you know, syrup just doesn’t taste as good on a pancake as it does on you.”

  Kimber stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. And then she remembered that, in a sense, he had.

  “I’m talking about kissing. I realize you’ve forgotten our past, just like you’ve forgotten everything else,” she murmured. “But it’s important that you know we’ve tried this before, and it just didn’t work out.”

  “Kissing? You and Gerald have kissed before?”

  If she didn’t know better, she’d think he sounded not only surprised, but jealous, too.

  “I thought you—we—were just friends,” he said.

  “Well, we...” How much should she tell him? “We had a relationship.”

  He frowned, and Kimber noticed a couple of whiskers she’d missed near his ear.

  “Why didn’t it work out?”

  Good question, she thought. Was it because of some flaw in her for not being able to keep him interested, or because he had some inner flaw that kept him seeking more? More customers. More profits.

  More women.

  Although she worried that the dysfunction lay at least partly on her shoulders, she was certain the latter was the biggest reason.

  The music rose louder, and the choir members filed into the loft.

  “Someday we’ll have a long talk about it,” she promised. “But now isn’t the time or place.”

  He touched her hand covering the Bible in her lap, his expression full of regret. “I’m sorry if he...if I hurt you.”

  She didn’t know what to say. He looked sincere, and that simple fact touched her in a way that she knew she shouldn’t allow. It almost had her wishing they could try again. However, she resolutely pushed the thought to the back of her mind and opened her hymnal to “Amazing Grace.”

  Kimber loved this song and could sing some of it by heart. Gerald had hated attending church, considering it a waste of time, so she was surprised when the man she now called Jerry didn’t bother to open to the proper page. She was further surprised when Jerry belted out the words in a clear, confident baritone.

  By the time they reached the third verse, Kimber had to resort to singing from the hymnal, but when she moved to share her book with Jerry, he politely declined. He continued through the fourth verse, not missing so much as a syllable of the lyrics.

  When it was over and the congregation took their seats, Kimber leaned closer to him and whispered, “How did you remember the words to that song when you never knew it before?”

  Jerry hesitated, a puzzled look crossing his face. Then, a bit sheepishly, as if he wasn’t sure of the answer himself, he suggested, “Televangelism?”

  Kimber found that hard to believe, but the same thing happened with the rest of the songs throughout the service. He even knew the hymn that she was only vaguely familiar with, and that one had six verses.

  The man was incredible. He had to be taught how to tie his shoes, use a fork, and shave, but he was intimately familiar with every song they sang and every Bible verse they read aloud together.

  When the service was over, Jerry pointed out the depiction on the stained-glass window nearest their pew. Jesus, His sandy brown hair and beard grown long and His eyes full of kindness and love, sat with His arms outstretched as children and a lamb gathered around Him.

  In the past, whenever the sermon was boring, Kimber would stare at the likeness, noting the brilliant colors of the stained glass and the movement of the trees swaying in the breeze behind it. Apparently, it had caught Jerry’s attention, as well.

  “He doesn’t look like that,” he informed her.

  “Yeah, some people say He probably had black hair and darker skin.”

  Jerry shook his head. “Actually, He looks more like—”

  “Well, hello! I thought it was you sitting over here whispering during the service.” Maxwell Barnett enveloped his daughter in a hug, then turned to Jerry to shake his hand. “It’s a good thing you didn’t get your knuckles rapped,” he added teasingly.

  Alison moved from her husband’s side to hug them both. “What a nice surprise to see you out and about.”

  Recognition dawned in Jerry’s eyes as he fixed his gaze on Kimber’s father and his young wife. “I know you,” he said.

  Something gripped Kimber’s heart at the knowledge that his memory was returning. A mixture of relief and regret swept over her at the realization that Jerry, whose company she had actually come to enjoy these past several days, was going to transform back into the Gerald who had hurt her so deeply.

  “You do?”

  “Sure, I’d know their voices anywhere,” he declared, obviously pleased with himself. “They came to visit me while I was in the hospital.”

  Although she was only eight years his senior, Alison gave Jerry a maternal smile and patted his arm.

  “You seemed pretty much out of it when we came by,” she said, her smile dissolving as she slanted a meaningful look up at him. “Are you telling us you were only pretending?”

  “No, I was asleep, but I could still hear you.” He shifted the rubber pad of the crutch under his arm. “I thought I was still in heaven, and I heard your voices talking about a steering pin.”

  Alison nodded knowingly, the action making it look as though she was humoring him.

  “Still in heaven?” Kimber asked. “Don’t you mean you thought you’d gone to heaven?”

  Jerry appeared confused for a moment, then nodded his agreement. “Uh, yeah. There was a long tunnel and a bright light. And I think there were some pearly gates, too.”

  “You actually saw pearly gates?” Kimber’s father asked.

  “Yes, but I don’t think St. Peter was on duty that day. He was probably off playing fenuki.”

  At her parents’ quizzical expressions, Kimber urged Jerry out into the aisle and followed him.

  “I think Jerry’s getting tired,” she explained. With the long line of people waiting to shake the preacher’s hand on their way out, they could be standing here quite a while. “I think we’ll leave by the side door.”

  Chapter Five

  After they said their goodbyes, Kimber and Jerry made their way up the long, carpeted aisle toward the pulpit, nodding a greeting to all those they passed.

  A few minutes later, when she drove past Burger Heaven, he insisted she turn back and go there for lunch. She glanced in the rearview mirror, taking note of the giant rotating hamburger perched above the roof of the restaurant.

  Behind it was a
sign cut out and painted to look like fluffy clouds, but the silver-colored lining had long since chipped away. The halo that hung suspended above the burger sat in the same cockeyed position it had been knocked into during a storm at the turn of the millennium.

  “Why do you want to go there? It’s a dive.”

  He shrugged.

  Kimber had misgivings about going into such a place, but it was the middle of the day on a Sunday. She supposed it would be all right and made a U-turn only to discover there were two large motorcycles parked outside the restaurant, and a couple of shady-looking guys hanging around smoking something.

  Until she knew otherwise, she would give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they were cigarettes.

  “I think maybe we should go to that farm to table place. It’s only a couple of miles from here.”

  “No, this will be fine,” he insisted. “I want to try their angel fries.”

  She glanced over at him. “They’re just French fries that are cut extra thin.” Her lackluster response did nothing to quell his enthusiasm.

  After she pulled into the parking lot, she stayed close to Jerry in case he should lose his footing on the broken pavement. At least, that’s what she told herself.

  Logically, she knew there was little a man on crutches could do to protect her, but for some reason she felt better when she was near him. Once inside, she decided not to explore the reasons for such feelings and, instead, diverted her thoughts by concentrating on the menu.

  There were “billowing clouds” of mashed potatoes, “lightning bolt” hot wings and “heavenly” hamburgers. There was even “reincarnation stew,” a hodgepodge of leftovers from the past couple of days. Kimber decided to forgo the stew and opted instead for a hamburger. Jerry got the angel fries and hot wings.

  She stared at the fried chicken wings covered with specks of red pepper. “Don’t you think you should have ordered something a little milder?”

  He grinned, the action creating a dimple beside his mouth. Kimber averted her eyes from his lips and tried not to think about the incredible things he’d done with them this morning. He’d never kissed her like that before, and she couldn’t seem to get it out of her mind.