Just Add Heat Read online

  “Mmhmm.” It was the only thing I could respond with. He disconnected and I sat there with the phone in my hand. I couldn’t do this. I got a fresh wave of panicky thoughts. Cheryl’s brother was coming to take me home. He lived in my house. What was I supposed to talk to him about? I knew he was artistic; there were drawings and weird sculptures he made all over Cheryl and Paulo’s place. But I don’t know squat about art so that topic wouldn’t last long. Did he like romance novels? Cooking? Did we have anything in common?

  I was snapped out of my musings by the rattle of the food cart. I had marked oatmeal for my breakfast since I usually don’t eat before noon. At least I wouldn’t be wasting some big meal. The same orderly from yesterday came in with my breakfast tray. Ah, coffee. He is a prince.

  “Good morning. You want the oatmeal, right?”

  “Right. Mostly I just need the coffee.” I smiled as he placed the tray on the swivel table beside my bed and positioned it in front of me. “Thanks.”

  “No problem, see you at lunch,” he said as he made his way out the door.

  I hoped I wouldn’t be here at lunchtime. I hoped I would be at home, reunited with Lucy and my memories.

  I added the little sugar packet to my coffee. I usually take two, but there was only one on the tray so it would have to do, I needed the caffeine too much to quibble over sweetener. It was lukewarm, not optimal, but it was better than nothing. I sipped, trying to make it last since I didn’t know if the hospital came around with refills. I lifted the dome over my breakfast. Not only was there a bowl of oatmeal, but also a piece of toast cut in triangles, a packet of margarine, yuck, and two little containers of jam, grape and strawberry. I put the lid back on and finished my coffee before I gulped down the tiny container of OJ. When I finished my beverages I pushed the table off to the side. I wanted to get dressed into real clothes, but I wasn’t sure what the doctor would need from me, so I stayed in my pajamas and waited.

  What seemed like an hour later, but was probably only a few minutes, Dr. Turner, my neurologist, came in.

  “Justine, how are you feeling this morning?”

  “I still don’t remember. How long am I going to be like this?” I felt suddenly frantic. I had really believed I would wake up well and healed.

  “I don’t know. Every case is different. You might remember in an hour or it might take a few days. Perhaps once the swelling goes down. I can’t really give you an exact time because it all depends on your body.” He took out a penlight and shined it in my eye. It didn’t hurt like it had when Robert had done it in the emergency room. That was progress in my book.

  “Well, your pupils look fine, and none of your tests showed anything abnormal. I think once the inflammation goes down you’ll be right as rain. I’m going to go get your release papers ready. Do you have someone coming to get you?”

  “Yes, he’ll be here in a little while.”

  “I’m going to want to see you again in a few days, but I’ll put that in your instructions.” He jotted down something and looked over at me seriously. “If you experience any dizziness or confusion, call my office.”

  “Okay. Thank you, doctor.”

  “I’ll see you in a few days.” The doctor left and I felt deflated. That was it? I wasn’t well yet. I still had amnesia.

  I sat there for a few minutes. There wasn’t anywhere to go. Carter wasn’t here yet, but I didn’t want to be in night clothes when he arrived, so I got up and went over to the duffle bag. Ah, the jeans looked familiar. Finally. The shirt, not so much, it had some kind of metallic appliqué of birds on the front of it. Still, it was pretty cool. I took the jeans, tee shirt and some panties into the bathroom. Cheryl didn’t pack me a bra, so I was going to be flying free, but at this point I didn’t really care.

  I felt a little bit more human after I changed. I decided to skip the shower, I’d be home soon and I would much rather take my time and have a bubble bath. I needed the stress relief. I stuffed my pajamas into the duffle bag and zipped it up, ready to go. I didn’t put my shoes on since I was going to be lying on the bed, but I did put on the pink socks Cheryl had so kindly packed for me.

  I was lounging on the hospital bed and staring at the ceiling when Carter walked in. Damn, he looked good. His dark wash jeans fit him to perfection and he was wearing a tee shirt that matched his gorgeous green eyes. It wasn’t the first time I had noticed how good looking he was, but it was the first time I noticed while simultaneously acknowledging to myself that I have sex with him. Cue butterflies. It was the moment of truth. I was going to be going home. With him. To our house.

  “Hey, you’re looking better.” He leaned down to give me a kiss, but at the last second I turned my head and his lips landed on my cheek. His smile evaporated and I felt like an ass.

  He straightened back up and fixed the smile back on his face, but it didn’t mask the hurt I could still see in his eyes. “Are you ready to blow this joint?”

  “Yeah, let me get my shoes on.”

  I sat up and swung my legs off of the bed, but before I could get up to get my shoes Carter had already gone to the cupboard and gotten them for me. He handed them to me and gathered up the rest of the things in there, setting them next to my duffle bag. I slipped my shoes on and stood up. I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

  “Let’s go,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

  Carter picked up my belongings and thrust a hoodie at me. “It’s actually chilly this morning; you’d better put this on.” I pulled it on as we walked down the hall. A small part of me was afraid to leave the relative safety of the hospital because, once at home, I was on my own. With Carter.

  Chapter Five

  We went out to the parking garage and Carter pushed the remote he had pulled out of his jacket pocket. We walked up to the same black truck I remembered from the other night. He walked around and opened the passenger door while I stood behind the vehicle like an idiot. Did I mention that being alone around a good looking man turned me into a stooge?

  I managed to make my way to the door and tucked myself into the seat. Carter closed the door and walked around to his side but he stood there without opening it. I buckled my seatbelt and waited for him to get in. He didn’t. I leaned over the center console and looked out the window. He was standing there with his eyes closed. Of course, a second later he opened them and looked directly at me. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t look away. We stayed there, still, and finally he grabbed the handle and opened the door.

  He didn’t say anything as he strapped in and started the truck. He didn’t say anything as we left the hospital grounds and turned onto the street. He drove in silence until we got to my house.

  Normally I wouldn’t have minded this as it keeps me from having to make conversation. Right now, however, it was pissing me off. I didn’t know why I was so angry, but each block of quiet ratcheted up my fury. By the time we pulled into my driveway I was ready to snap. Carter turned off the engine and sat in the seat looking forward.

  “So, this is kind of weird, huh?” He turned his head to look at me.

  “So you feel like talking to me now?” I reached down to the floor to grab my purse.

  “Did I do something to upset you?” he asked as if he didn’t know.

  “Well, you ignored me for the entire car ride, which, maybe, has something to do with it.” I reached for the door handle but Carter put his hand over mine and stopped me from pulling it.

  “Is rage a side effect of a concussion? Wait. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say. You still don’t remember me, not the right way. You turned your head when I kissed you. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you. This is hard for me too, Justine.” Carter’s voice sounded ragged. But that wasn’t enough to make me simmer down.

  “You don’t know what hard is. I don’t have any idea who I am anymore. I don’t know what I do. I sure don’t know how I’m with you.” After I said it, my anger fizzled out at the look on his face. I w
asn’t trying to be mean to him, I was just saying what I felt, but I realized that the last part didn’t come out quite like I had intended.

  He pulled his hand back and I opened the door. I wasn’t in the mood to apologize to him, I had been through enough. So, even though I knew I had hurt his feelings, I got out and walked up the sidewalk.

  Carter got out and beat me to the door. He unlocked it and stood aside to let me pass. I stopped several feet inside the doorway. My living room was wrong. There was a huge TV on one wall and long black table against the other. I took a few more steps and noticed other things that were different. There were several small metal statues on the built-in shelves that I recognized as his work and there were pictures in different styled chunky frames. Pictures of me, of Carter, of Cheryl and Paulo. There was no clutter. There were no magazines or cookbooks lying on the coffee table. It looked really nice, actually.

  I turned to Carter. He was looking at me, staring really, but not in the same hopeful way as before. His face was blank. My stomach started to hurt. I’d obviously made him angry.

  “It’s different. I don’t remember decorating it like this.”

  “I live here. What you don’t recognize probably belongs to me.” His tone was friendly but eyes weren’t. I suddenly wanted the other Carter back, the overly familiar one that called me earlier.

  I nodded and walked into the kitchen. Luckily, everything seemed to be in order there. My cookbooks were lined up on shelves beneath the island. All my countertop appliances were in their places and there were no extraneous items lying around. The only thing I noticed were some pieces of paper stuck to the refrigerator with magnets. I walked over and noted that they were recipes, written in my own handwriting with items scratched out and jotted down in the margins. I stared at them, not recognizing them, but intrigued.

  “Those are the recipes you’re working on right now.” I wasn’t aware that Carter followed me. “You’ve tried that Mexican gazpacho four times. I think it tastes great but you keep saying you can get it better.” He walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a glass. “Are you thirsty?”

  Suddenly I was parched. I nodded and he reached up for another glass.

  “Iced tea?” I nodded again. It was surreal, Carter was playing host in my house. He pulled out a jug of sweet tea as I stood there. I had hoped coming home would restore my memory. It didn’t, obviously, so I didn’t really know where to go from here. I pulled out a stool and sat down at the island. Carter set my drink down and I wrapped my hands around it. Now what?

  I knew it was time to ask Carter some important questions. Questions only he would be able to answer.

  “What am I blocking out? What happened that’s so terrible my mind won’t let me remember?”

  He looked at me, shocked, but after a moment he shook his head. “I don’t know of anything terrible. You’re happy. We’re happy. I can’t imagine what would make you forget your life. Us.”

  I sat there, holding my glass of tea and wishing I had some brilliant conversational skills that I could pull out now. I started to get a little nervous. I had just gotten home and I was already out of things to say and do. I couldn’t work because I don’t really know what it is I do. I’ve read blogs of course, but I’ve never set one up or written any. My cookbook sounded cool, but I don’t know what’s already in it or where to begin. There were so many things I had no knowledge of that it was overwhelming. I decided to start with something simple.

  “Can I see my website? I don’t even remember what it’s called.”

  “It’s Just Add Heat.” He typed in the address into his phone and handed it to me.

  I couldn’t believe how good it looked. Professional. “Wow,” I said as I scrolled down through the posts. “This looks great, when did I learn to do this?”

  “You didn’t. I designed the site. You told me what you wanted though.” I scrolled lower, skimming the text on different posts.

  “I’m pretty funny,” I remarked with a smile. Holy moly, some of my posts had hundreds of comments. I kept going, clicking through some of the links and I saw a picture of myself. I looked great! Sexy, actually. Could that really be me? With the makeup and tame hair I looked like myself but way better. Being a chef and spending most of my time in a hot kitchen, makeup was simply something that I wore on a date, and my hair lived in a bun.

  “That’s a great picture, isn’t it?” Carter was leaning over and looking at the screen. “Cheryl considers it her masterpiece.”

  “Yeah well, that’s obvious. I didn’t know I could look so good.” I was wearing bright red lipstick and heavy eyeliner that made me look like I was made up for a red carpet appearance, and that’s not to mention the way the top I was wearing gave me some extreme cleavage.

  “I think you look beautiful all of the time. You don’t need makeup to enhance your loveliness.” He said it quietly.

  I cringed. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments, I know how I look.”

  “No Justine, I don’t think you do.” He lifted his hand up and pushed back a bit of hair that had escaped the scrunchie. His movement was tender, but it sent an electric shock through me.

  I couldn’t move, my eyes were locked with his and my breathing was shallow. I wanted to lean into his hand so I forced myself to blink, to break eye contact, and when I did he dropped his hand. I instantly felt the loss. It was so confusing. I didn’t want him to touch me, I needed time, but at the same time it felt good.

  Just then I heard a bark from outside the kitchen door. Lucy. My baby.

  I jumped up and set the phone down as she launched herself through the doggy door. She barreled in with all her might and I scooped her up. “I missed you, girl. Have you been a good girl?” I asked, even though I knew she was. She was the best dog ever. Of course she didn’t answer me, but she licked my face and moaned in her high pitched happy-dog way. At least this hadn’t changed.

  “She missed you, I did too. We didn’t know what to do with ourselves last night.” He reached over and rubbed Lucy’s head. The fact that I was still holding her made the act more intimate. To me anyway. She leaned into his hand the way I had wanted to a minute earlier. Lucky dog. But, apparently I only had myself to blame. He was doling out the affection and I was cowering like a Victorian maiden.

  I set Lucy down with a kiss and picked up my tea. I took a big gulp and set the glass down a little too hard. The whack of the glass hitting the countertop made me jump. I looked guiltily at Carter, but he wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t looking at anything. I guess my continued lack of responses to his conversation was starting to take its toll. Again. My fault.

  “Do you know what time Cheryl is coming by?” I asked as casually as I could. At least Cheryl being here would take some of the pressure off. I just wasn’t able to relax around Carter while we were alone like this. It’s not my fault.

  “She said it would be sometime after one. She was staying until she was sure the caterers finished their job.”

  I looked at the clock. At least three more hours. How was I going to entertain him for three hours? I wracked my brain. There was that big TV out in the living room, maybe we could watch a movie, but that seemed lame. I don’t even know what movies are out right now. I needed to work on getting my memory back. I needed to look at the rest of the house, to check for changes which might nudge my subconscious into action.

  “I think I need to take a bath.” That sounded stupid. It was ten a.m. and I just came home from the hospital. There was probably something else I should be doing, but I didn’t know what.

  “I’ll go get your stuff from the car. You can get settled.” I nodded again, and went down the hall to the bathroom. I flipped on the light and braced myself for changes but I was happily surprised, it looked pretty much the same except for the blue towels hanging on the rack. My towels were yellow. I surveyed the vanity with a critical eye. It was spotless and gleaming. Much cleaner than it usually looked. There was also men’s cologne sitting on the left side
of the counter. I picked it up and sniffed it. It smelled good, like Carter. I heard the front door open and I quickly put it down, unwilling to be caught in the act.

  He appeared at the open door seconds later. “Do you want this in here?”

  I nodded. “It’s got my toothbrush and stuff.” He handed me the bag and stood there. He was probably waiting for me to thank him for getting this. “Thanks Carter,” I stammered, I had to get over this behavior.

  “No problem, do you need anything else? Does your head feel okay?”

  “I barely feel it. I’m just going to relax for a while. Thanks, for everything.”

  He gave a brief nod and stepped out of the bathroom. I shut the door behind him and turned to the tub. My favorite bath crystals were still in the jar on the shelf. I turned on the tap and poured some into the water. It started foaming up immediately and the smell of jasmine wafted up. I poured a little more in for good measure. I really needed this.

  Once I stripped off my clothes I hurried back over to the door to make sure it was locked. It was and I felt a little foolish. It wasn’t like he was going to come in here and try to catch me naked in the bath was it? Unless that’s the kind of stuff he likes to do. I got goosebumps. Maybe he was kind of a perv that way, I don’t know. I stepped in and hissed as the water enveloped my foot and calf. It was a little hotter than I usually liked, but perhaps that’s just what I needed. I slowly lowered myself in the rest of the way, leaned back and closed my eyes. I felt my muscles slacken and I let out a deep breath. A second later I jolted upright as I heard a pounding on the door.

  “Juss, are you okay in there?” I sat up and covered my breasts instinctively.

  “Yeah, I’m fine I’m just going to lie here a while.”

  “You’ve been in there for over an hour, babe.” An hour? I had just sat down. I then noticed the water was barely tepid. It had been scorching hot just a moment ago. Crap, am I passing out now, too?

  “I’m getting out in a second. Thanks, I didn’t realize how long I’d been in here.”