I shook my head. “What memories?”
“Come. Here.” He wet his lips.
I tried not to look at his lips, but they were right there, full and recently touched by his tongue. I took a few steps closer.
He pushed off the beam and slid his hand through my hair. “I love you today.”
“Fisher …”
He kissed me. And I couldn’t stop him because I didn’t want to stop him. His proximity fed my soul. His lips awakened my heart with possibilities.
Then it ended.
It was just a kiss. We had control.
Until he kissed me again.
Harder. Longer.
His hands slid to my butt, and he moaned, gripping me hard. “Fuck …” He pulled his mouth away from mine and buried his face in my neck. “Follow me to my house. Please just …” His desperation fueled my need.
I was so tired, and it weakened my resolve because there was nothing I wanted more than to go home with Fisher. Let him make me feel good. And fall asleep in his arms.
As another car pulled in behind my car, I broke away from Fisher’s hold and cleared my throat. “What memories? You said your memories came back.”
He sighed, adjusting himself. “I remembered Angie. Well, one memory of her. Of us.”
“What memory?”
“A party at her parents’ house. Her twenty-first birthday.”
“What triggered that?”
He glanced over my shoulder, off into the distance. “I’m not sure.”
“Where were you when you remembered it?”
His lips twisted as he continued to stare off into … the past? “She came over last week for dinner. And we were talking about her cousin’s wedding. And she said her cousin just found out she’s pregnant.”
I nodded slowly. “Was her cousin at Angie’s birthday party?”
“No.”
“Hmm. That’s weird. But it’s a memory. That’s good right?”
Fisher seemed anything but feeling good about his recent recalled memory. “I’ll let you get home to sleep.”
He went from insatiable to listless in a matter of minutes.
“Are you okay?”
He returned a single nod, more of a tiny drop of his chin. Then he stared at me for a long moment before a sad smile tugged at his lips. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“Bye.”
That was it. A sad goodbye.
That sad goodbye ate at me as I drove home. Instead of pulling into the driveway, I kept going and made my way to Fisher’s house, arriving just as he pulled into his driveway.
I walked across the street as he hopped out of his truck. “What aren’t you telling me about your memories?”
“What do you mean?” He didn’t stop to address me face-to-face. He kept walking into his garage.
I stopped right behind him as he bent over to unlace his work boots. Then I followed him into his house.
“You know what I mean. When you told me about the party memory, you looked frightened or maybe in complete shock. Why? Did that memory of her bring back feelings for her?”
He grabbed a beer from the fridge and opened it. After a long swig, he blew out a slow breath. “At her party, Angie pulled me aside and told me she was pregnant.”
Did not see that coming. Neither did my delicate heart.
“I couldn’t remember what happened after that. Angie said she miscarried two weeks later. Then … I could. That’s all she had to say, and I remembered what happened.”
“What happened?” I whispered past the lump in my throat.
“We were supposed to meet for dinner after I finished working. But she showed up at the apartment I was living in at the time, and she was in tears. She’d miscarried. But …” He glanced up at me. “I had a ring. I was going to propose to her that night.”
“But you didn’t.”
He shook his head and took another pull of beer.
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want to get married. Not yet. I was doing it because it seemed like the right thing to do.”
“So she never knew?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Did you tell her? When your memory came back, did you tell her about the ring?”
“No,” he whispered.
Then it hit me. What he said to me five years earlier when I freaked out at the possibility of being pregnant.
“What if …” I cleared my throat. “Hypothetically, what if I were pregnant.”
“No.” He grunted. “No. We are not doing this. If you come back to me in a few weeks with a positive test, we’ll have this conversation. But I’m not having it now.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not.”
“I think it’s irresponsible to not at least have a plan.”
Fisher was hard and standoffish. That was why. The last thing he wanted was another pregnancy scare when he wasn’t ready to be a father or get married.
But things changed …
Rory and Reese said as much when they said Angie and Fisher had discussed kids. Three kids.
“It’s interesting that Angie told you everything about your past together, but not this.”
His head eased side to side. “I think it was too tragic for her. She got pretty emotional when I told her about my memory.”