“Was? You survived a pretty intense accident on your motorcycle. I’d say you’re still lucky. And you still have a fiancée. What’s the problem? Are you having erectile dysfunction issues? It’s not uncommon after accidents.”
He choked on his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the fuck? No. Why would you ask me that?”
I took his beer and helped myself to a long swig. A little mixing of saliva.
He raised a single eyebrow.
Yeah, Fisher … I’m not the deer-in-the-headlights girl you don’t remember. I swap saliva. Drink beer. And have sex. Sometimes I even touch myself because it feels “good.”
“I’m a nurse. It’s strictly a medical question. It can be hard on relationships when accidents impair sexual function. And sometimes it’s not a physical disability as much as it’s an emotional issue.”
“My dick works just fine.”
“Maybe you should do something that takes your mind off your situation.”
“What’s my situation?” He grabbed the beer bottle back from me and frowned when he noticed it was empty.
“Your arm is still in a cast. I’m sure your family is still coddling you. And you’re living with a stranger who wants you to get fitted for a tux so she can take your name and have your babies.”
His lips twisted. After a few seconds, he nodded several times. “That’s not entirely inaccurate. So what distraction do you suggest?”
“I could give you some of my crossword puzzles to work on.”
There it was again. That look. The one I missed as a nervous eighteen-year-old girl with an insane crush on the naked fisherman. The one I didn’t miss when we took dinner to his house after he came home from the hospital and I told him about my hobby.
“Why do you keep mentioning puzzles? I’m not sure I even like crossword puzzles.”
“No?” I did his signature head cock. “Huh … I thought I felt a vibe. Must not have.”
“A crossword puzzle vibe?”
“Something like that.” My lips pressed together to conceal my grin.
“Dinner’s ready,” Rory said as she opened the door.
Fisher’s gaze stayed glued to me, just where I liked it. Where it belonged.
“Need help standing?” I pushed off the pillar and held out my hand.
Shaking his head, he leaned forward and stood on his own while mumbling, “I don’t need help getting anything up.”
“Believing you can is half the battle,” I murmured back to him as I headed into the house.
It was just a whisper, but I felt pretty certain he said, “Smart ass,” as he followed me into the house.
“Let’s get your stuff unloaded,” Rose suggested right after dinner.
“I don’t have a lot. I sold the big pieces because I knew you wouldn’t have room for them, and I didn’t want to store them.” I headed out to the driveway.
“Fisher, do you want a ride home?” Rory asked as she set the dinner dishes by the sink.
“It’s three blocks. I think I can manage. Besides, I should help unload Reese’s things from the trailer.”
“No.” I turned just as I stepped outside. “Your arm is in a cast.”
“So?”
“So we’ve got it.”
“I have one good arm.” He stepped outside, forcing me to take a step backward.
“Save it. We’ve got this. You know my arms are freakishly long.” I said it, and I couldn’t unsay it. For a second, I let myself forget that Fisher didn’t remember me or anything about me.
“They are?”
I nodded slowly before turning and making quick strides to the trailer. “That’s what some jerk told me once.” Opening the trailer, I grabbed one box while Rose took another box.
Fisher grabbed a box too and wedged it between his arm and chest, following us into the house, into my bedroom.
Rose set her box down and headed back outside. I set my box on the bed and started to brush past Fisher as he set his box next to mine.
“Was I the some jerk?”
I stopped in the doorway with my back to him. After a few seconds to figure out an honest answer, I glanced over my shoulder. “You were my favorite jerk.” I shot him an exaggerated smile, using fake humor to hide the depths of my emotions. “But yes … you made fun of my long arms.” Without waiting for his response, I strode outside again.
Rory joined us, and the four of us had everything unloaded in less than ten minutes.
“Thank you, Fisher.” Rory thanked him before I got the chance to do it. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”
“No ride. Thanks for dinner.”
“Night, Fish,” Rose called from the kitchen as she started washing dishes.
“I’m going to lock the trailer and my car,” I said to Rory as I followed Fisher out the door.
“Okay.”
We said nothing while strolling down the driveway. I veered off to the left to lock the trailer.
Fisher stopped, sliding his good hand into his back jeans pocket. “I don’t really think I’m going to care for them, but if you want to drop off some puzzles … just…” he shrugged “…whenever. I’ll give them a try. No rush. It’s really … no big deal.”