Just Add Heat

by Genevieve Jourdin

  “Okay, call me if you need anything.”

  “Okay.” I waited until I heard him walk away before standing up and grabbing a towel off of the rack. I wrapped it around myself and stepped out and onto the rug as I looked at myself in the big mirror over the vanity. I still had the bruise on my cheek, of course, but my eyes seemed clearer than they had at the hospital. I started drying myself off and caught a glimpse of something on my back. There was a drawing of a flower on my shoulder. I turned in towards the mirror and looked closer. It was a tattoo.

  “Oh my god!” I must have been out of my mind or drunk or something. I rubbed at it, but it didn’t budge.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” Carter’s voice carried through the door a second later. What was he doing, skulking around in the hallway?

  “I’ve got a tattoo,” I told him with outrage.

  “I know. I was there when you got it. I think it looks nice.”

  “I’ve never wanted a tattoo. What made me get this?” Perhaps it had been a dare; I never could pass up a dare.

  “You got it after you quit the restaurant. It was your symbol of a new beginning. That’s why the bud is still opening. You thought about it a long time before I drew it for you." I stood there, thinking about that for a moment. I turned more fully to look at the design. It was nice. Beautiful really, now that the shock was starting to wear off.

  I suddenly remembered I was standing there in a towel and that I hadn’t brought any clothes in with me. I searched through my bag but everything in there was dirty. Sanity returned and I opened up the cupboard where my robe was hanging. Thankfully, I still kept it there.

  “Are you okay?” In my nakedness panic, I had forgotten that I hadn’t said anything in response to him. Again.

  “Yeah, I was just trying to get dressed. I’ll be right out.” I hurriedly pulled on my robe. I knew it was mine because it was silky and had flowers on it, but it wasn’t the same one I remembered from a couple of days ago. Again, I was just rolling with the punches. It was like staying in someone else’s house when you weren’t planning on it and having to borrow their things. It felt foreign. I tied it around my waist and opened the door. Carter was still standing there, looking concerned, so I just gave him a weak smile and rushed past him to go to my bedroom.

  I opened the closet and stopped dead. It was stuffed. All my clothes were pushed to one side and the other side was taken up by men’s clothing. Stacks of jeans were on the shelves, and shoes were lined up along the entire floor area. My heart thumped hard against my breastbone. Everywhere I turned I was faced with the knowledge that I shared my life with Carter. My mind just refused to accept it.

  Chapter Six

  I grabbed a pair of black yoga pants off the shelf and snatched a red tee shirt before walking over to my dresser to grab a fresh pair of panties only to encounter stacks of folded boxer briefs in various colors. I reached down to touch them but jerked my hand back at the last second. That was just wrong. Clearly I am the pervert. Who runs their fingers over someone’s underwear?

  I opened the drawer that used to be for my night wear. Bingo. Panties were staring back at me this time. I grabbed the first pair I saw and put them on, threw off the robe, and pulled on my clothes. Dressed, I didn’t feel that I was as vulnerable. Not that I thought Carter was going to take advantage of me, but it made me feel better.

  I walked back to the bathroom and Carter was no longer standing in the hallway. Good. I opened the cabinet that had all of my beauty essentials, basically brushes and hair ties, and pulled out a brush with soft bristles. I still hadn’t detangled my hair, and I could tell that getting all the knots out was going to hurt and I didn’t want to press my luck with the lump on my head. I pulled my hair out of the scrunchie and started gently working the brush through it, not an easy task in its greasy state. I really needed to wash it, but I was going to have to wait on that.

  When I had gotten my hair as nice as it was going to get, I brushed my teeth and braced myself to go back out to the living room. When was I going to stop having to brace myself to do something? This had been the most stressful twenty four hours of my life. I was feeling drained mentally and physically.

  All I wanted was to flop down on the couch, but I noticed Carter sitting there with his head thrown back, asleep with Lucy curled up next to him. I took the chance to observe him covertly. He was beautiful—I’d always thought so. When I first met him he was a bit gangly, but even then I could tell he was going to be a good looking man. Granted, he was only fourteen at the time, but he already looked like a model for some kind of perfume company. You know the kind of ads they shoot in black and white? Anyway, now he looked like every woman’s fantasy. His body had filled out and his face had become more angular. His mouth, oh his mouth was gorgeous. It always looked like it was on the verge of smiling.

  I found myself staring at his mouth. I could almost imagine it kissing my lips and enveloping my nipple. I imagined meeting his eyes as he looked up at me from between my legs. What the hell? I shivered, not knowing for sure if I was imagining the image or remembering.

  I made my way closer to the couch and Lucy looked up at me and thumped her tail. It made Carter open his eyes so I guess he wasn’t sleeping after all. I could feel the blush spreading over my face as I was caught staring at him.

  “I’m a little hungry, you?” I asked him as nonchalantly as possible. I needed to get into the kitchen and cook something; sometimes it was the only thing that soothed my mind.

  “I could eat. I haven’t really been that hungry since your accident. Do you want me to call something in?”

  “No, I feel like cooking. I’ll go see what’s in the fridge.” I walked past him into the kitchen to peruse the offerings in the refrigerator. Hmm, I had plenty of vegetables and cheeses, but I was in the mood for Mexican food, maybe tomatilla enchiladas. It was one of my favorites, and it took a while to make, thereby killing two birds with one stone. I checked my supplies. The way my luck was running I wouldn’t even have tortillas. Score! I still kept my pantry stocked with all the essentials. I picked up everything I needed and set it all down on the counter, grabbing the pans that I would use off of the pot rack over the island. For the first time since yesterday I felt a sense of normalcy. My whole body started to relax as I began chopping onions and garlic and heating up the cookware. I had been at it for a while when I heard Carter come up behind me.

  “Do you want any help?” My body shivered as I recalled my thoughts of just a bit ago.

  The question made me pause. I enjoyed cooking by myself, but I didn’t want to be rude to Carter. “You could grate the cheese,” I told him as I motioned to the fridge. “I need the Monterey Jack, oh and get out the sour cream as well.” I slipped into chef mode as I directed him to do my bidding. He opened the door and I heard the drawers sliding open as he gathered the ingredients. He looked over at me where I stood peeling the paper from the tomatillas.

  “Mmm. Green enchiladas?”

  “Yep. I felt like Mexican.” He set the items down and opened the cabinet in front of him, pulling out the yellow bowl I always used for mixing up the creamy sauce I poured on the enchiladas. “How did you know that I needed that bowl?” I asked him curiously.

  “You always use this bowl. Actually, I always use this bowl because it’s always my job to mix up the sauce.”

  I stared at him for a moment. Just how many times have we stood here making this dish together? Obviously he had done this enough times to recognize the dish by the ingredients. No one ever helped me cook in my home kitchen. This is where I come to relax. I didn’t mind Cheryl so much, she just sat on a stool at the island and talked to me, but to have Carter be so familiar and me not actually minding that much was peculiar.

  “Uh, then I guess you know what to do,” I said lamely. He reached over to grab wooden spoon from the container in front of me and his proximity sent my senses on alert. He smelled amazing. The combination of his cologne and his manliness, mixed wi
th the smells of the kitchen were like a trinity of awesomeness.

  He took the grater out of the drawer and started on the cheese, and I couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his forearm. They were taut and well defined, but not bulging like some weight lifter. Mmm. I pulled myself out of my momentary daze and got back to work on my food.

  Before I knew it, I was popping the pan of enchiladas into the oven. Carter and I had worked mostly in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It would have been harder for me to try and make conversation instead of giving myself a mental break and concentrating on my dish.

  While it baked I started cleaning up the huge mess that always accompanied this recipe, and that’s when it happened. I was standing at the sink and rinsing out a bowl when I turned to pick up the dish cloth from the counter and found myself chest to chest with Carter. I wasn’t wearing a bra so as soon as my nipples scraped against him they stood to attention. I don’t know what made me do it, but I pressed my face into his chest and sniffed his shirt. It smelled so good that I leaned in closer, until my forehead was up against him. He let out a quiet moan and I jerked my head back.

  “I’m sorry,” I gasped, appalled at myself. My blush of earlier had nothing on my flaming cheeks now. I busied myself with the bowl again and waited for him to step away, but he didn’t. I scooted over to the side, just enough to break contact with him. I had to get myself under control. What the heck did I just do? Did I actually sniff him? Oh god, what am I doing? He’s too young for me. I’m like some cougar. Well, no, I’m not that much older than him, maybe more like a bob cat.

  What had possessed me? I stood there in acute embarrassment until he reached forward and touched my arm. “I like it when you smell me. You do it a lot. It’s one of your things.”

  One of my things? Do I now go around sniffing on people? What kind of freak had I become? I must have looked horrified because he stepped closer. “I love it, actually.” He leaned down to me as I stood there like I was hypnotized. His lips were on mine in the next second and I felt an electric jolt go from my lips to my chest to my belly button. I didn’t even think as I opened my mouth to him. He put his hand on the back of my head and held me close. I was lost in sensation until I dropped the metal bowl I still had clutched in my hand, and it clattered into the sink making me jump and break the kiss.

  I shook my head to clear my thoughts. That felt good. It felt like a first kiss, with my stomach tingling, but it also felt comfortable. I realized I was holding my breath, so I dragged in some air. Wow, he’s a good kisser. I needed to step back and look at this situation. For all intents and purposes, we hadn’t even gone on a date yet. It was as if someone you kind of know and are talking with starts kissing you out of the blue. You’re surprised, even taken aback, but in the back of your mind you’re thinking “Hmm. I wondered what kissing him would be like.” If it’s someone good looking you might even take the thought further and imagine sex. Or maybe that’s just me.

  Anyway, I did the only sensible thing I could do in this situation—I dashed out of the kitchen. I know it was cowardly, but I didn’t care. I just had to get out of there, taking refuge in my bedroom. I flopped down on the bed and tried to bring my breathing back to normal. It didn’t work. Even here I was confronted with Carter.

  There was a picture of the two of us on the night stand, next to the old fashioned alarm clock. A button down shirt was tossed over the chair in the corner. The comforter on the bed was also not as I remembered. It was brown like my old one, but it was a lot darker and puffier. I closed my eyes and tried to get my bearings. Okay, so kissing Carter wasn’t such a bad thing. What was I freaking out about? Sure, it was all new, but it wasn’t bad. I could, in some alternate reality, see myself possibly becoming involved with him. Unfortunately, I was in this reality. The reality where I was a thirty year old woman with amnesia and Carter was my best friend’s little brother. Well, younger anyway, he was definitely larger than Cheryl.

  So I sat there feeling sorry for myself. I felt sorry about not working at the restaurant, I felt sorry about hurting Carter’s feelings, but mostly I felt sorry about having no memory of the past two years. I couldn’t remember the good times or the bad. I looked over at the clock. Shit, the enchiladas would be ruined. I jumped up and hurried into the kitchen only to be met with a pan of perfectly cooked enchiladas sitting on the stovetop. I skidded to a stop. The kitchen was spotless. Carter had scrubbed the pans, done the dishes, and put everything away. So, apparently he was some perfect guy, he cooks, he cleans, he’s helpful, and most importantly, he’s hot. Well, maybe not most importantly, but it’s pretty darn important to me. So yeah, he looked good on paper, but if everything’s so awesome, why couldn’t I remember living with him? It all came back to that.

  I went to the pantry; I was craving some Mexican rice to eat with the enchiladas. I grabbed a jar of my favorite salsa to pour in and pulled down a pot. I hadn’t even opened the bag of rice before Carter was back in the kitchen.

  “Thanks for cleaning up and for saving lunch.”

  He nodded. “No problem. I’m sorry about earlier. I promised myself that I would give you time, but you leaned into me and I … well, I’m sorry.” He remained standing where he was so I went back to measuring out my rice. I wanted to pretend everything was normal, but inside I was in turmoil. When were things going to be right?

  I put the lid on the pot and turned on the burner. He didn’t move. I guess he was waiting for me to say something else, but I had nothing. I looked at the clock on the stove, twelve thirty. Cheryl would be here soon. That would take some of the pressure off, I hoped.

  “I hope Cheryl is hungry.”

  “She is. She called me while you were resting.” I appreciated the fact that he said resting as opposed to hiding. “She wanted to know how you were doing and to ask if you wanted her to come alone or to bring Paulo. He’s worried about you too. I told her you’d let her know when you got up.”

  “Oh, of course she should bring Paulo. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. I’ll call her now.” I went over to the table and dug my phone out of my purse. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Justine?” she questioned happily.

  “Hey Cheryl. Carter just told me you called. Of course bring Paulo; I’d love to see him. I made tomatilla enchiladas, I know he loves them.”

  “Have you remembered anything?” she asked hesitantly. I wasn’t sure what the whole Carter’s mouth thing was earlier, so I just told her no.

  “Well, I’ll be leaving here in about five minutes. I’m just making sure everything is in order before I go. We’ll be there in about half an hour, okay?”

  “That sounds great. See you soon.” I disconnected the call and felt better. Spending time with Cheryl and Paulo was something normal. I could remember that. Maybe everything would be okay after all.

  “Can I help you with anything?” For a moment I had forgotten Carter was standing behind me.

  “I’m good, thanks. Cheryl and Paulo will be here in about half an hour.” I didn’t know what else to say. We obviously needed to talk. We had a lot of things to discuss, not the least of which was where he would be staying tonight, but now was not the time, I was about to have lunch with my friends.

  I set the timer for the rice before I made my way back to the living room. Lucy was still on the couch, rolled up in a little ball so I sat down beside her and stroked her soft fur. She shifted under my hand and I felt a bit better.

  I looked over at the bookshelves again. I had just given them a cursory glance when I got home, but now I took the time to notice the changes. Small metal figures were placed in random areas, interspersed with books. I got up to look more closely. They were beautiful. Some were shaped like people, alone and entwined. One looked like it was made of liquid. I had to put my hand out and touch it, almost surprised when I encountered a solid object. I knew they belonged to Carter, were made by him, even though I had no recollection of them. I had seen other, similar pieces in
Cheryl’s parents’ house. They added a nice touch to my living room. I had never been much into decoration, in fact, my home was pretty minimalist. Not utilitarian, just simple. That’s the way I had always liked things. Simple.

  I moved along the wall and came to what I thought was a lamp. It wasn’t, well, maybe it was, but the base was a large glass bowl, and inside were two angel fish, a white and yellow one and a black and blue one. I had never felt the need to own fish. They didn’t give you love, not like a dog or even a cat. They just stayed in their bowl, swimming in circles. I touched the glass and the black one zipped to where my finger was. It was like it was trying to say “Hi”. A second later it swam off and I remembered that fish only have a three second memory. I could relate.

  I wanted to scream. Perhaps that would loosen something in my mind. Without a second thought I opened my mouth and screamed at the top of my lungs. It felt liberating until Carter flew into the room with a look of terror on his face.

  “What happened?” He took hold of me and gathered me to him as he looked around.

  “Nothing,” I responded, ashamed of myself for giving in to such a childish desire. “I was just frustrated.” He released me slowly, but not before I felt his heart pounding. I felt bad for frightening him and for forgetting I wasn’t alone. Lucy was standing up on the couch looking around in confusion and it made me feel even worse.

  “You scared the shit out of me, Justine.” He ran a hand through his already disheveled looking hair.

  “Sorry,” I whispered. I seemed to be feeling that a lot today. We stood there for what seemed like a long time, but really was only a few seconds. I was happy to hear the timer on the stove start beeping.

  “I need to get that.” I made my way around him, leaving him standing beside the couch. He looked lost, too. At least it wasn’t just me feeling this way. I turned off the burner and looked around. On closer inspection I could see that there were some changes in here as well. There were orange and brown woven placemats on the table and some kind of ceramic napkin rings holding real napkins. I was used to paper napkins, it was less of a bother and I’m a busy woman. But, the look worked, it was warm and inviting. I approved.