Heavenly Husband

And now he was offering to roll up his sleeves and be her live-in handyman despite the encumbrance of a cast on his leg.

“There’s no need,” she said. Eventually, she would get around to doing the chores herself, or she would hire someone to do the work after she was finished with the big project she was working on at the office. “I’ll take care of it before long.”

But that wasn’t soon enough to suit Jerry. He made her promise to show him where she kept her tools so he could start work after breakfast.

He shifted on the sofa so that he faced her. Once situated, he decided instead to pursue the line of questioning he’d started earlier. The more he knew about her, the easier it would be to protect her. And having her think he suffered from amnesia was a convenient tool for getting the information he needed. “We never finished talking about you. Tell me about your family.”

As she told him about her father, Maxwell, her young stepmother, Carmen, and her own single-child status, Jerry soaked up the warmth of the room as well as the warmth in her voice.

The house and its furnishings reminded him of her. It was simple and unpretentious, but still classic and welcoming. The old white frame house was situated in the middle of forty acres, about half of which were cleared. A small lake behind the house invited quiet introspection and meditation at its edge, and a barn gave shelter to the assorted wild geese and ducks that congregated near the water.

It was the inside of the house that most clearly displayed Kim’s personality. The blue overstuffed sofa and chair invited inhabitants to put their feet up, and the wood theme of floors and half-paneled walls gave an earthy feel. It was a house a man could feel comfortable in, but the ruffled curtains and thick blue-and-cream rug saved it from appearing masculine.

He knew from his forays into her library that she was an eclectic reader, sampling everything from the classics to science fiction, mystery and romance. He had been pleased to note that not only did a Bible sit among her collection, but it appeared by its worn condition to be well-read.

As she told him about her father’s thriving bakery business whose distribution covered a three-state region, Jerry took in the assorted magazine pictures of horses adorning the walls. On the fireplace mantel sat a framed photo of a young girl perched atop a pony while a man stood nearby holding the reins and smiling down at his tiny charge.

When she finished describing their planned expansion of the company, he changed the subject. “Why don’t you have any horses in the barn?”

She rolled her eyes and lolled back against the sofa. “That’s one reason I bought this place...so I’d have a place to keep the horses I’ve always wanted. But the business expansion keeps me so busy I don’t have time to care for an animal right now. Not even a cat.”

“How long until you’ve finished the expansion?”

“As soon as six months or as long as two or even three years, depending on how things go.”

He scratched his head. “I noticed a rosebush at the corner of the house. Do you ever take time to stop and smell the roses?”

Now it was Kim’s turn to scratch her head. If this question had been asked before Gerald’s accident, she would have known he was joking. But now...well, she just wasn’t sure.

“You are lecturing me about stopping to smell the roses?”

He grinned, the action deepening the small dimple in his left cheek. His whiskery cheek. Kim had never seen him unshaven before, and she couldn’t help noticing that the casual look on him was anything but casual. It made him look darker, more brooding, and more powerful than the clean-cut, three-piece-suited man she was accustomed to. Not even the gentle charm of his grin could lessen her gut-level response. In fact, the contrast actually emphasized the depth of his blue eyes and the sharp angle of his jaw.

“Does that surprise you?”

“Of course it does. You’re the workaholic pot calling me a black kettle. You were the one who talked Daddy and me into the expansion in the first place.”

Jerry frowned slightly as he took in what she was saying. “Did I work with you and your father at Barnett’s Bakery?”

“Yes,” she said gently, “and you worked just as hard or harder than both of us to get the merger started.”

“I did?”

Kim nodded. Her bangs fell forward and tickled her eyebrows. She hadn’t taken the time to mousse her hair this morning after her shower, and now her chin-length auburn hair swung softly around her face in free abandon.

“Then it’s about time I changed my ways,” he confessed.

“That’ll be the day.” The doctor hadn’t said whether Jerry would remember his recovery period once he regained his previous memories. However, Kim felt sure that once he recalled the events and motivations that had led him to become the person he’d once been, he would most likely go back to being the old Gerald. As for right now, he probably felt vulnerable and lost, which accounted for this new attitude of his.

“No, I’m serious.”

He touched her arm, and Kim shrank from the warmth of his touch. No matter how appealing he might be at the moment, she knew that, like a puppy that eventually outgrows its cuteness, Jerry would leave behind the innocence and charm that now warmed her heart. She expected he would probably also go back to the woman he’d been seeing. Her gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Jerry, and he removed his hand from her arm.

“It’s obvious that you and Gerald...uh, you and I...have our priorities mixed up. It’s impossible to enjoy the good things we have when we’re so busy working to acquire more.”

Kim narrowed her eyes at him. Same face, same hair, same 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 that 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.”

Sunday morning, Kim 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.”

Kim 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.

As she entered the tiny room midway down the hall, 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.

Kim 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 as 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.”

As she stood close to him, she was aware of just how tall he was. 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 Kim was hauntingly reminded of the strong physical attraction she’d felt the first time she saw Gerald. It had been lust at first sight, but even that didn’t compare to the raw physical craving she was feeling right now. 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.

Kim 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. As she stroked it over his skin, she thought of the many times she’d watched him shave after he’d spent the night at her place. 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 seem to take his eyes off her mouth. Sometimes, he 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.

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, reminding him of the tempting swells that rounded out the front of her upper garments. 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 as 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, Kim made it glorious when she returned the gesture and tasted him. His breathing quickened as Kim’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, his hands gripping her sides as he pulled her to him and positioned her between his thighs.

With his hands lightly touching her ribs, he allowed his thumbs to explore the tender flesh that he’d admired since the first time she leaned over him at the hospital. Although the white terry-cloth robe shielded her skin from him, he savored the softness and was surprised when the centers of the two hillocks hardened beneath his exploring fingers. This wasn’t heaven, he knew, but it wasn’t far from it.

Kim gasped, and Jerry could tell she was experiencing a similar quickening in her breathing. She squirmed in his arms, and just when he felt as though he might explode, 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.”

CHAPTER THREE

ORGAN music swelled around them as they settled themselves into a pew near the aisle of the historic church. Jerry laid the crutches under the pew in front of him and stretched out his right leg. The orange covering of his cast practically glowed neon where the severed pants seams didn’t meet. Despite 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, Kim 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.”

Kim 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. Kim 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 seemed confident his memories would eventually return. And when they did, she didn’t want to be involved with a man who was a low-down, arrogant womanizer.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she told him.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He looked down, his countenance thoughtful. “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.”

Kim 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 said gently. “But it’s important that you know we’ve tried this before, and it just didn’t work out.”

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