He stated the year, then took the phone she still gripped in her hand and flipped it open so the light shone between them. “Are my pupils even?”
Flinching away from the light, she narrowed her eyes to scrutinize him. “Yes.”
“Good.” He closed the phone and gave it back to her. “I’m all checked out.” He slipped from the bed and moved to the other one. “Good night.” He slid under the sheet and rolled so his back faced her.
“Good night.” Ignoring a misguided pang of regret, she flopped down in the space he’d just left. The bedding smelled of him, held the heat of his body. For just an instant, she sank into a fantasy of what could never be. And moments later she followed him into slumber.
Grace woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. Groaning, she rolled over, slowly opened her eyes and stared into a leaf-green gaze.
“Good morning.” JD greeted her with a tip of his mug.
She swung her feet around and sat up on the edge of the bed. The bed she thought he’d gone to sleep in the night before. Now he sat feet up leaning back against the headboard on the bed opposite her. Thankfully he’d covered the memorable gray knit boxers with his jeans. A white T-shirt and socks completed his apparel.
Exactly how had things gotten switched around? She had a vague niggling of something happening in the night, but she’d been so exhausted she couldn’t pull it to mind. She could only pray it had nothing to do with the erotic dream he’d starred in.
“Morning,” she mumbled.
“Actually, I got that wrong.” His mouth rolled up at the corner. “It’s after one.”
“After one?” She was appalled. “Why didn’t you wake me? Checkout was at noon. Now I’ll have to pay for another night.”
“Sorry. I haven’t been up long myself. Just long enough to order breakfast.”
Her stomach gave a loud growl at the mention of food. She covered it with her hand. “The coffee smells divine.”
He gestured toward the desk. “I got one for you.”
“Bless you.” She headed for the desk.
“Bacon and eggs, too.”
“Mmm,” she hummed her approval and detoured to her overnight case for her toiletries. She longed for a shower, yet the growl in her stomach demanded she feed it first. A shower could wait, but she needed clean teeth to start her day.
“How’s the head?” she asked on her way to the bathroom.
“Better than last night,” he answered with a total lack of inflection.
She stopped and faced him, lifting an eyebrow. “But not by much?”
“The doctor said it would take time.”
“Right.” The woman had been sure to repeat it several times, making sure she included Grace so she would know the doctor held her accountable for his care. “So still no memory?”
“Not from my past, no.”
Meaning what? He was making new memories? Like kissing her? There’d been kissing in her dream. She narrowed her gaze on his face. His expression gave nothing away. Dang it. How did she get in his bed anyway? Exhaustion really knocked her out last night. The last thing she remembered was admiring his tight bum in soft gray.
And then her alarm went off.
And OMG. He’d kissed her. It hadn’t been a dream at all. He’d kissed her and then pushed her away.
Without looking at him, she ducked into the bathroom and closed the door. Amnesia looked pretty good right about now. She wouldn’t mind losing a few minutes of memory. Actually just a few details.
She inhaled a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. So he’d kissed her. No need to freak out. He’d come to his senses and apologized. No harm done.
Yep, that was her story and she was sticking to it.
Back in the room and sipping coffee between bites of bacon and eggs, Grace worried over what else might have happened during the night. The fact she still wore her clothes from yesterday was a big clue, and frankly a huge relief. At least nothing too compromising happened between them.
Well, if she discounted the kiss. And she did. Discount it. In fact, in her mind it never happened. A dream never to be discussed or brought to mind.
Yeah, right. Even after brushing her teeth she felt him on her lips.
“I meant to move on to San Francisco today, but since we slept in I think it’d be best to take it easy. Give you a day to recuperate. We’ll go shopping, get you another set of clothes.”
“Okay, this is not going to work for me.” He set his paper mug aside and crossed his arms over his impressive chest.
“What’s not working?” She hoped he wasn’t going to be difficult again this morning. Afternoon.
“Having you call all the shots.” He stood and went to the window, drawing back the drapes to let in the weak afternoon sun. “It was all right when I was near incapacitated. But I’m thinking better now. And I may not know who I am, but I can promise you I’m not the type to happily trail behind someone like a trained puppy dog.”
“That’s hardly been the case.” Puppy dog? More like bulldog. He certainly hadn’t been docile last night at the hospital. But given his attempt to leave, she should have expected another bid for independence. “I’ve only been trying to help.”
“I know. I appreciate it. But I’m not a child that needs his hand held. I do, however, need to find out my identity. I called the local police department while I was waiting for breakfast to be delivered. Once the officer got past the idea I wasn’t joking, he suggested I take my problem to San Francisco. A bigger police department or the FBI would have more sophisticated resources.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re headed to San Francisco.”
“Yes.”
“So you’ve planned to take me with you?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “I want to hire you.”
She froze with a piece of bacon halfway to her mouth. “What? Why?”
“I may have no control over my mind, but I insist on having control over my life. Putting a name to my face is only one step to getting my life back. You have resources, connections. You can help me to learn not just a name, but who I am. Where I belong. Tell me about the people in my life. I was stabbed. I need to know if it’s safe for me to return to where I came from.”
“You don’t have to hire me to find that out. I’ve said I’ll help you.”
“No. You’re used to being in charge. If you’re just helping, you’re going to feel you have a say in what I do. If I’m the boss, I have the say.”
“JD, it’s your life. You’ll always have the final say.”
“You think it’s the concussion talking.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I think you’re trying to survive in a world that’s suddenly foreign.” Not so calm now. She set her fork down. “I’m not your enemy.”
“I know.” The intensity in his eyes didn’t waiver. “We need to do this my way, Grace.”
She could see they did. It was his way of making sense of what was happening to him. Of coping. She understood—probably more today than yesterday—the drive to control the areas of his life he could. And he wasn’t wrong about her having an opinion. The thing was, him paying her wouldn’t change that.
Of course, it would give him the sense of being in charge. Which was all that really mattered.
“I need a job for real.”
“This is a real job.”
“You know what I mean. The real job hunt needs to come first.”
He frowned, but nodded. “Agreed.”
“Well, if I agree, we’d need to set a time limit. Say two weeks, and then we reevaluate where things stand.”
He hesitated but nodded again.
“Okay. How do you plan to pay me?” She gave in. No need to make things more difficult for the guy. And she knew how to present her case when necessary.
“With this.” He walked to the night table between the beds, opened the drawer, and drew out his watch.
She shrank back in the chair. “I can’t take your watch.”<
br />
“Good, because I’m not giving it to you. But the thing is worth a small fortune. It can fund my search.”
“You intend to pawn it?”
“Can you think of a better way to get fast cash? I can’t continue to live off your charity.”
“I can afford it.” She assured him. She had a healthy savings account before leaving the navy. And now she had the life insurance money from her dad as well as the funds from the sale of his house. Once she found the right job, she planned to use the money to buy a house and put down some permanent roots.
But she had enough to help out a person in need.
“Save your money, Grace. You’re unemployed. I’m not going to mooch off you.”
“Well, pawning isn’t the answer either. You won’t get what the watch is worth. And you can’t just sell it. A piece like that would require provenance. Plus, what if it has sentimental value?”
“I don’t think so.” He set the watch on the desk beside her plate. “Not many people can afford seventy thousand dollars’ worth of sentiment. This is a flash piece, meant to intimidate and impress.”
“You do know you’re talking about yourself?”
“Maybe.” He ran a finger over the glass front of the expensive piece. “I like the exposed gears.”
“Well, you are a geek.”
A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “So I am.”
“We’ll find a jeweler.” She lifted the watch and examined the craftsmanship. It really was beautiful. “In San Francisco, not here. You’ll get more for it in a bigger city. We’ll get an estimate of the watch’s value, and I’ll buy it off you. When we get you home, you can buy it back if you want to, or I can sell it and get my money back.”
With narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, he looked as if he wanted to protest. Instead he nodded.
“I can live with that deal. Let’s get going.” He sat on the end of the bed and reached for his boots.
“No.” She leaned back in her chair and took a fortifying sip of coffee to prepare for her first battle. “I know you’re anxious to move forward, but I’m not ready to walk out the door. I have to shower and change. And today is a holiday. A lot of places are closed on New Year’s Day. Plus we’re going to have to pay for the hotel for another night anyway, so I suggest we do a little more recuperating today. Maybe shop for some clothes for you. We can put together a plan for when we get to San Francisco tomorrow.”
He propped his hands at his sides. “You seem to have missed the part where I’m the boss now.”
“Not when it comes to your health.” She corrected. Best to be clear with him, because on this she wouldn’t bend. “Let me clarify. As far as my services are involved, there’s no compromising when it comes to your health. If I feel you’re pushing it, I’ll call a halt. I said that I’d be responsible for you and I take my duties seriously.”
“So I’ve noticed.” He tossed his boot down. “What happened to it’s my life and the final decision is mine?”
“Still applies. Except when you’re being bullheaded about your health. Today we rest. Tomorrow is up to you.”
“You’ll make some phone calls, set up some appointments in San Francisco?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. We’ll shop for clothes today. And put together a plan for tomorrow.”
“And rest.”
He scowled but nodded. “And rest.”
“Good.” One battle down. She pushed her plate aside and stood. “I’ll shower and then we can go.” Carrying her paper mug of coffee, she grabbed her duffel and disappeared into the bathroom.
* * *
JD listened to the shower come on and tried not to think of Grace with water streaming over her body. Yeah, not working. He easily envisioned being with her, raising soap bubbles by running his hands over her skin.
Nothing to feel guilty over. He knew he wasn’t married or in a committed relationship. One of those odd things he was certain of. But Grace was now his employee.
Best if he kept his distance.
The situation had already created a faux intimacy between them that created a level of trust unusual in an acquaintanceship less than twenty-four hours old.
She didn’t quite get the me-boss-you-employee relationship, but he’d work on her. Getting around her unrelenting sense of duty when it came to his health would be a bit of a problem. He was grateful to Grace, but she made rigid look loose when it came to her duty.
Still, as long as he kept his raging headache to himself, she should have no argument with his plans.
A good thing, because he needed to take control of his life. Being at the whim of fate felt wrong. Whoever he was, whatever he did, he hadn’t been a follower. Deep in his gut he knew he’d been in charge. The Cartier watch sure seemed to indicate so.
He refused to sit around all day and brood over what he didn’t know. But she was right, the holiday hampered them. And he could use a change of clothes.
Bottom line, this hotel room beat the heck out of the hospital. If he had to take another day to heal up, better here than in an antiseptic-scented hell.
He sat on the bed, leaned back against the headboard and crossed his ankles. A pain pill went down easy with a swig of coffee.
She’d made no mention of the kiss they’d shared. Was that because she didn’t remember, or because she preferred not to? Of the few memories he had, it rated right up there at the top. Waking to her bending over him last night had been a temptation he couldn’t resist. Her nearness, the electric connection of her caring gaze broke through his defenses and he reached for her, claiming her soft lips in a sweet kiss. And oh, man. The tension they’d both tried to ignore throughout the night simmered over. Burned him up.
She’d been right there with him, her response explosive. He’d been ready to roll her under him and relieve their tension in the most basic way possible. He remembered the smell of her hair, the taste of the tender spot behind her ear.
When she’d moaned that he was killing her, it shocked him to his senses. Her surrender had him immediately backing off. He wanted her willing, not succumbing. If she was resistant at all, he had no business taking their relationship in a sensual direction. It would create unnecessary tension between him and the one person interested in helping him.
The water went off in the shower. And now he saw her running a towel over damp curves and that short cap of dark hair. He may have left her in her lonely bed last night, but the attraction remained alive within him.
He forced his mind away from the erotic imaginings. Instead he focused on the contacts she’d mentioned. He had to believe he’d soon have a name to replace the emptiness in his head.
It was the last thought he had before he drifted off.
* * *
Grace exited the bathroom to find JD napping on the bed closest to the window. She closed the drapes and wrote him a note telling him she’d be back shortly. Grabbing her purse and phone, she went downstairs to the lobby to make a few phone calls.
The officer on duty in Woodpark stated a patrol had traveled the road JD had been walking on and there’d been no sign of his motorcycle or wallet.
“There was a report of an altercation at the Red Wolf Tavern including a man fitting JD’s description. The bartender said he hadn’t been drinking. He’d eaten, paid for the meal, apparently from a big wad of cash, and bumped shoulders with a guy on his way out the door. Got beer spilled on him. The other guy tried to get tough with him and the man fitting JD’s description put the aggressor on his knees. The guy backed off and that was the end of it.”
“Except for the part where the guy followed JD, ran him off the road and robbed him.”
“That’s a possible scenario.”
Yeah. The probable scenario.
“That’s all we’ve got.”
And from his tone, all they were willing to do. JD had been released. Wasn’t even in town. The new sheriff would see no reason to expend time or resources on finding JD’s proper
ty or identity.
So no help there.
Next she called a friend from her boot camp days. Doug worked for the FBI, in the San Francisco office. She considered him their best bet for finding JD’s identity because the government had face-recognition technology. The San Francisco Police Department may have it as well, but accessing it wouldn’t be so easy. She didn’t have any connections there, and it could take a while to get results.
She called Doug, but it turned out he and his wife were visiting her parents in Bend, Oregon, and he wouldn’t be back in the office until Monday. Great. She could imagine JD’s reaction to the delay. Good news, though. Doug was willing to help once he got back in town.
She sank back in the deep red chair, happy she’d gone with Pinnacle Express. She’d stayed at a few and never had complaints. So much better than the Shabby Inn. She enjoyed the muted grays, the push of red, the modern furnishings and artwork. And the large sleeping rooms, though sharing with a six-foot-plus man sure put large into perspective.
Sitting in the lobby watching families come and go, she felt safe, comfortable. Simple emotions most people in the United States took for granted, but she’d sat or patrolled in plenty of locations that didn’t encourage such simple emotions.
Before her father’s illness, she’d planned to finish her career in the navy. Now, she was glad to be home, looked forward to finding a place and making it her own.
But first she had to help JD find his home.
With him in mind, she stopped in the gift shop on her way back to the room and picked up a disposable razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and a new T-shirt. It wasn’t much and wouldn’t last long, but it was a start. Shopping didn’t strike her as an activity high on JD’s list of favorite things to do. Hopefully he’d view a trip to obtain new clothes and a few personal items as forward momentum in his quest.
The selection consisted of shirts with towering redwoods, seascapes and big block letters spelling out CALIFORNIA. She decided on the redwoods, but, of course, there were none in his size.
The man was really running on a bad streak of luck—or she was. Grace hadn’t decided which yet.
Given the size of JD’s shoulders, his choice of shirt came down to a kelly green with seals frolicking on a beach or a bright red with California blazoned across the chest. She went for the red. The green might work well with his eyes, but he didn’t strike her as a seal guy.
His Unforgettable Fiancée Page 5
