A Man Worth Remembering. Delores Fossen
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“No can do. You have stitches in your ankle, remember? Now, let’s see if I can recall basic first aid.” He pretended to think about it. “By now, those stitches have probably worked their way partially loose, so you have an open wound. Add to that some of this sloppy, wormy mud, and I see the potential for a really nasty infection. What do you think?” He didn’t let her answer. “I don’t have time to take you to the doctor, so be still.”
Just like that, Leigh stopped struggling, and her body practically went limp against him. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that other than traipsing through a swamp, you actually have a plan?”
He made his way around a large cypress tree and its kneelike roots that stood almost a foot above the ground. “I have one, but I don’t feel especially good about it.”
Keep her alive. Catch the bad guys. Nope, he didn’t feel good about that plan at all. It definitely lacked the necessary components for a successful mission.
“It’d be a heck of a lot easier if you just had your memory,” Gabe let her know. “Are you sure you’re not faking this amnesia?”
“No, I’m not faking it. You’ve already asked me that. Besides, why would I fake something like this?”
He could think of a reason. Leigh could be using the ploy so she wouldn’t have to tell him why she’d really returned. “I don’t have an answer to that one either, mi vida.”
She poked him hard on the back. “Don’t call me darling.”
Gabe grinned in spite of his rotten mood. Well, she remembered some of her Spanish anyway, along with remembering that she didn’t like him to use that little term of endearment. And that’s why he’d done it. Maybe he could work it into the conversation again. Numerous times. It might make him feel better if she was as annoyed as he was.
He stopped on a solid patch of ground, deposited Leigh on her feet and pulled back some low branches. Just as he hoped it would be, there was the truck hidden behind the curtain of Spanish moss.
“Thank you, Jinx,” Gabe mumbled and opened the door on the driver’s side. “I owe you another one.”
“Jinx?” she asked. “What does he have to do with this?”
“He left this truck here for us, and he sent that warning over the pager to tell us those gunmen were in the parking lot.” Gabe pulled down some moss and used it to clean the mud off his boots. “We’ll spend the night here and head out at first light.”
Leigh stared at him. “Here?”
“Yes, here.” Gabe motioned for her to get inside. He slapped at a couple of mosquitoes that started to feast on his neck. “And hurry up before these things eat us alive.”
She got in all right, after a loud huff, and she scooted toward the other side to get as far away from him as possible. Even then, they were practically shoulder to shoulder when Gabe joined her.
“Might as well get comfortable,” he told her.
Her eyebrow arched. “You’re kidding, right?”
Yeah. He was. There wasn’t much chance of getting comfortable on a narrow seat with Leigh. Still, it probably wasn’t a good idea to say that to her. It would only start another round of questions.
He pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it on the floor along with his holster and all three weapons. “We’ll have to leave the windows up because of the mosquitoes, so it’ll get hot in here. Wanna take off those scrubs?”
She gave him a look that could have withered a new fence post. “Not even if I were on fire and there wasn’t a drop of water for miles around.”
He chuckled and draped his forearm over the steering wheel. “Lie down.”
She glanced at the seat. And then at his bare chest. “You want me to lie down?”
He rolled his eyes. “Hell. Leigh, we’re married. And even if we weren’t, we’d still have to get some rest. That means the seat or outside. I have no intentions of sleeping outside with the snakes and mosquitoes, do you?”
She looked out the window, apparently to weigh her options. Not that she had any options to weigh. She must have figured that out because without a sound, she lay on the seat. With her feet only inches from him, she let her hand dangle over the guns.
Gabe spun her around like a top and put her head right next to his lap.
With her eyes narrowed to slits, Leigh stared up at him. “Is there any particular reason you’re treating me like a prisoner?”
“You bet. I know you too well. Right now, you figure you can’t trust anyone but yourself. You wonder whose side I’m on. In the next hour or so, you’ll start to think you need to get away from me, even at the risk of becoming gator bait. Well, until you figure out I’m the best thing you’ve got going, then I’m staying close. Understand?”
Her mouth twisted as if she’d tasted something sour. “Yes, I understand.” She rolled onto her side, facing the back of the seat. Immediately, she made a strange sound.
“Now what?” he snarled.
“The seat smells like fishing bait.”
Unfortunately, she didn’t smell like bait, but it might have been better for him if she had. Since she was so close, Gabe couldn’t avoid taking in her scent. The smell of the scrubs. Mixed with that was the hint of warm leather from the motorcycle seat. There was sweat, not stale and heavy, but just a hint. And beneath all of that was Leigh’s own unique scent. Distinctively female.
And more than a little distracting.
It was a challenge, but Gabe had to prevent that scent from turning his brain to mush. He forced himself to remember what she’d done. It worked. Until she spoke.
“We don’t get along very well, do we, Sanchez?”
He considered lying. A Justice Department slant on the truth. But there was something in her voice. A plea for the truth, and the truth was exactly what he gave her. “No. We don’t.”
She paused, apparently letting that sink in. “If our situations were reversed, would you trust me?”
Now he’d lie. Except it wouldn’t really be a lie. Yes, their past had been, well, checkered. But if it were a matter of life or death, Leigh would come through for him. Gabe didn’t have to guess about that.
“I’d trust you,” he finally said. “Now, give it a rest and go to—”
“I hate being like this.”
“Sorry, but it’s the best I can offer under the circumstances. I promise, there was a time when you didn’t mind sleeping this close to me.”
“I’m not talking about that. Not entirely anyway,” she added apparently as an afterthought. “I hate not knowing who I am or who you are. You could be an ax murderer, and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”
She looked up at him. Gabe looked down and met her gaze in the moonlight. He didn’t want to stare at her, but his body seemed to have a different idea. It was hard not to remember that this was a woman he’d once loved. A woman who’d loved him right back. Then, things had fallen apart.
And that was a whole set of memories he didn’t want to deal with right now.
“I’m not an ax murderer,” he heard himself say. “I gave that up years ago.”
She actually smiled, briefly, but there was a frown not too far behind. “I know nothing about you or me except the few things you’ve let me know. I don’t even know my middle name. I’m too scared to admit I’m scared because I don’t know if I can trust you with that admission of weakness. I’m afraid you’ll use it against me.”
“Leigh.” His voice was gruff. Then it changed.