Heavenly Husband

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As she entered the tiny room midway down the hall, he smiled and proceeded to make a long sweep with the razor that extended from his left ear, down to his chin, and back up to his right ear.

Kim gasped. “Good heavens, you look like you’re trying to slit your throat. Give me that razor.”

He did as he was told, and she reached up to blot the nick on his chin with a square of toilet paper.

“Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” He obligingly turned toward her as she lifted the razor to his face. “You have to take short, smooth strokes. Otherwise, you’ll look like you shaved with a kitchen blender.”

As she stood close to him, she was aware of just how tall he was. Even stooping over the crutches, he was tall enough to make her arms ache as she reached up to him. Her hand quivered, and she drew back.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

His brow furrowed, and Kim was hauntingly reminded of the strong physical attraction she’d felt the first time she saw Gerald. It had been lust at first sight, but even that didn’t compare to the raw physical craving she was feeling right now. Sure, he looked the same, except for a healing red line above his eyebrow and a few lingering bruises sprinkled across his body. But there was something different about him. About the way he looked at her as if he was committing the tiniest details of her image to memory.

Kim gave herself a mental shake. He was probably just recognizing something familiar in her features and trying to use them to dredge up lost memories. If she wasn’t careful, she might find herself falling for the temporary stranger in her bathroom.

“It’s just awkward... standing here like this,” she said at last. “My arms are getting tired.”

“What if I sit here,” he said, putting the lid down, “and you sit on the side of the tub?”

That would put them at about the same level. Perhaps if he wasn’t towering over her, his closeness wouldn’t have such a strange effect on her. She propped his crutches behind the door and took a seat next to him.

Once again, she lifted the razor to his face. As she stroked it over his skin, she thought of the many times she’d watched him shave after he’d spent the night at her place. A man of habit, Gerald had a particular procedure for almost everything he did. It was as if he turned something as basic as grooming into a science. It was hard to imagine that—after so many years of shaving in a certain fashion—it hadn’t become second nature, something for which he didn’t have to remember the steps in order to do it.

“Do like this,” she said, and twisted her mouth to one side.

Jerry stared at her lips and followed suit as she moved the razor over his flattened cheek. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her mouth. Sometimes, he noticed, when she was dressed up, her lips were a deeper red. This morning, however, she hadn’t done whatever she normally did to transform her appearance. Her eyelashes, though dark, weren’t as black as usual, and her eyelids were free of the pale brown shadows that made her irises appear as dark as the devil’s food cake he’d sampled last night. Up close like this, he could see the sprinkling of freckles across her nose that she usually managed to hide.

Fascinating as all that was, it was her lips that held his attention. Though the rest of her features were angular and sharply defined, her mouth was soft and full, reminding him of the tempting swells that rounded out the front of her upper garments. A tempting shade of pink, her lips somehow beckoned him.

She directed him to lift his chin so she could shave under his jaw. He did as told, his gaze never leaving her mouth as she removed the last of his whiskers.

Her lips tightened, and her tongue darted out. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, everything’s perfect.” Knowing that, as all humans, she must have flaws, Jerry found it hard to believe she could seem so incredibly perfect.

“Oh, good. I was beginning to think I had egg on my face.”

He couldn’t picture her with that yellow food marring her appearance. However, he remembered watching her eat pancakes with syrup this morning. He wondered if a remnant of the sticky sweet stuff clung to her lips, and the thought made him want to taste them to find out.

Her tongue darted out again as she watched him watching her.

Instinct took over. Jerry impulsively leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers. Sure enough, a hint of maple offered itself to him as their lips pressed together.

It was wonderful...much better than pancakes. He tried without success to compare it to a sensation he may have experienced before. The closest he could come was being fed peeled grapes while reclining upon a pristine chaise, but even that was a mere shadow to what was happening here in this small room. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, the idea of combining this feeling with lying on the chaise made his pulse pound in his temples.

If he’d thought it was great before, Kim made it glorious when she returned the gesture and tasted him. His breathing quickened as Kim’s hands went around his neck, urging him closer. Moving so that his bum leg stretched out to one side, he reached out to her, his hands gripping her sides as he pulled her to him and positioned her between his thighs.

With his hands lightly touching her ribs, he allowed his thumbs to explore the tender flesh that he’d admired since the first time she leaned over him at the hospital. Although the white terry-cloth robe shielded her skin from him, he savored the softness and was surprised when the centers of the two hillocks hardened beneath his exploring fingers. This wasn’t heaven, he knew, but it wasn’t far from it.

Kim gasped, and Jerry could tell she was experiencing a similar quickening in her breathing. She squirmed in his arms, and just when he felt as though he might explode, she pulled back, breaking the contact of their lips. The look she gave him was one of fear and shame.

“Oh, my gosh,” she said, standing abruptly, “I can’t believe I just let that happen.”

CHAPTER THREE

ORGAN music swelled around them as they settled themselves into a pew near the aisle of the historic church. Jerry laid the crutches under the pew in front of him and stretched out his right leg. The orange covering of his cast practically glowed neon where the severed pants seams didn’t meet. Despite his less-than-immaculate appearance, Jerry seemed pleased with the way he looked in the three-piece suit.

“Cool,” he’d said when he caught sight of himself in the mirror this morning. If the old Gerald’s personality had returned, Kim was certain he would have insisted on waiting until his leg healed before going out in public like this.

He leaned toward her and whispered, “You tasted good.”

Kim fidgeted beside him. If they were to get through these next couple of weeks, she would have to make sure he understood the ground rules. Otherwise, she’d be right back where she started... falling for a low-down, womanizing, arrogant—

She stopped herself from further mental tirades. Besides, it wasn’t proper to think evil thoughts in church. Looking over at the man who sat so erectly beside her, she realized that he currently was none of the descriptions that had just played through her mind. But he wouldn’t remain this way. Kim wanted his memory to return in order for his healing to be complete, but she couldn’t help wishing he’d stay like this.

The doctor seemed confident his memories would eventually return. And when they did, she didn’t want to be involved with a man who was a low-down, arrogant womanizer.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she told him.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He looked down, his countenance thoughtful. “Next time, I’ll make myself a pancake. But, you know, syrup just doesn’t taste as good on a pancake as it does on you.”

Kim stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. And then she remembered that, in a sense, he had. “I’m talking about kissing. I realize you’ve forgotten our past, just like you’ve forgotten everything else,” she said gently. “But it’s important that you know we’ve tried this before, and it just didn’t work out.”