"Do you remember any of it?"
The people up above now slammed against the door, and he knew his time alone with Ava had come to an end.
"I want to remember," he whispered, mainly because the sound of his own voice hurt his head further. "I really do. If what you say was true and you were my wife, I was one of the luckiest men on the planet."
A small smile played on her lips, lips he wanted to kiss, even if she had a bit of snot dripping from her nose. He allowed his gaze to fall to her neck and down to her breasts. He couldn't make out the outline of them as she wore a baggy sweatshirt, but he wanted to see them, to taste them, to touch them.
He shut his eyes, the pain now unbearable.
"Are you hurting?" she asked.
He nodded.
They didn't move as heavy footfalls pounded down the stairs, and her words came out rapidly as if she didn't want to any of those about to barge into the room to hear her. "They want to put you on LSD to make you remember. Apparently, it's used to uncover lost memories."
Well, didn't that sound like a fuck-all for him.
Shit.
"I thought I would try talking to you to see if you remembered before they started."
Within seconds, the room filled with men as the door gave way while the fucking jackhammer in his head had rendered him barely able to open his eyes.
It looked like his inability to save himself would result in a psychedelic trip with who knew what side effects.
As the men yelled at Ava, nausea assaulted him and he knew he was once again on the verge of passing out.
However, he didn't like the tone of the voices being used on her.
"I just wanted to talk to him alone!" she yelled above the loud din.
He opened his eyes to see Brody and Ava toe-to-toe. Brody hovered above her, his face a mask of rage. "And you locked us out?"
Her stare didn't waver. "Yes."
"He could have killed you!"
Sitting up, he glared at Brody, feeling incredibly protective of Ava. It pissed him off to no end that Brody seemed to be trying to intimidate her with his size.
"Back off," he said, surprised by how strong his voice sounded.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"Yes," Ava interjected, pushing Brody in the chest. "Back off."
With that, she turned and walked out of the room.
He lay back down on the bed and turned away from the rest of them. A small smile crept across his face.
He liked that Ava didn't allow others to push her around, literally and figuratively. For him, she seemed to be the whole package-smart, pretty and strong. As he shut his eyes, he allowed himself the fantasy of everything she and Joe said being true, and that he was Ava's husband.
27
Ava marched upstairs to her bedroom. She had the urge to slam the door like a petulant child, but restrained herself. She understood that Brody and the rest of the crew cared about her, and were upset that she'd put herself in danger. However, she didn't see it that way. In fact, deep within her, she felt no fear of Jordan. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't hurt her. Her initial fear of him had been driven by the constant reminders of what he'd been doing with his life the past year.
She sat down on the bed and couldn't help but grin. Jordan had said he wanted to remember, but he couldn't. Shouldn't she take every opportunity to help him get his memories back, even if they were a bit unconventional?
She'd been against the LSD, and it still made her uncomfortable, despite the doctor's assurances. Having never before heard of LSD being used in a conventional sense, she still thought of hippies and people hallucinating when she considered the drug.
However, if Jordan couldn't remember their relationship, then she knew they had to move on to Plan B-LSD.
A light knock sounded on her door.
"Come in."
Joe wheeled himself in, his face a bit troubled. "You took Brody's keys and locked yourself in the basement?"
She nodded. "I just wanted a few minutes alone with Jordan."
"You could have asked, Ava."
"No. Everyone here has been telling me over and over how dangerous he is, so I knew there was no way any of you would let me go to him by myself."
Joe opened his mouth as if to argue, but then pursed his lips. "You're probably right."
They sat in silence for a moment, then Joe spoke again. "Have you considered using the LSD to recover his memories?"
The fact Jordan had said that he wanted to remember had been all she needed. If the desire was there on his end, then she would have to live with them shooting him full of the drug.
"Do it."
Joe nodded and left her alone with her thoughts again. These crashed down onto her, making her suddenly so tired.
She could see the pain she'd caused Jordan, could see him grow weaker the more time they spent together. It hurt her as it used to be so different.
When they had been separated for months on end because of his job, she'd sometimes felt like her energy waned with each passing day. Sometimes, she'd attributed it to the worry for him that always accompanied her, but in reality, it had almost seemed as if they'd fed off each other, like they'd needed to be in each other's company.
The only thing she could think to compare it to had been a science experiment she'd done in the eighth grade. They had taken two chemicals, one red and one yellow-what they'd been, she couldn't remember, but as they sat in their beakers, both seemed perfectly satisfactory. However, when they were mixed, things changed.
At first, she'd thought she'd done something wrong after she'd poured them together and they'd mingled in the third beaker. But then, small bubbles had appeared on the glass bottom. After a few moments, the bubbles had grown larger in size and the two colors had begun swirling together, creating a beautiful color orange. Finally, a pinkish smoke had wafted from the mixture.
That's how she saw her relationship with Jordan. Apart, they were just fine, but when they came together, it was like they energized one another and made each other better.
She lay back on the bed, utterly exhausted.
In a few hours, they'd give him the LSD. She didn't know if she could watch the effects as it sounded like people on the drug had some pretty crazy experiences, and she didn't think she could take seeing Jordan like that. However, could it be worse than it was now? What would be more difficult? Watching him on LSD, or having him not remember her?
At least there was a chance, no matter how slim, that while drugged up, he would recall her and their marriage and then want back what they once had. She had to cling to that.
28
Ava's ocean blue eyes twinkled, and her lush mouth held a small grin as she looked up at him, running her hand over his white button down shirt, from the base of his throat to his belt buckle. As she hooked her finger into his waistband, she kicked off a pair of white pumps.
She looked prettier than he'd ever seen her, almost as if she had been encased in a glow of happiness. As she fisted his shirt and pulled him toward her, he didn't resist her, nor did he want to. His heart beat soundly in his chest, each thump almost aching with the love he felt for this woman.
As she laced her hand behind his neck and urged him to her, relief swept through him. They finally had time alone. Exhaustion traveled through him, but it couldn't derail his lust for his wife.
Slipping his hands to her back, he pulled her close and kissed her as he ground his erection into her stomach. He'd been waiting hours for this time with her, and as he'd charmed her mother, danced with her crazy aunt, avoided the groping of her cousin, and talked with her father, he hadn't been able to keep the salacious thoughts on what he wanted to do with his wife once the party had ended away from his mind. Bet her dad wouldn't appreciate him sharing those.
As their tongues danced, he took the simple white dress she wore and pulled it up her long legs. When she'd walked down the aisle all those hours ago, she'd taken his breath away.
The dress wasn't the typical frilly white thing. The satin traced over her curves, the spaghetti straps highlighting her lovely collarbones and toned shoulders. She wore a simple strand of pearls as a choker and the white heels she'd already disposed of, her hair piled up high on her head.
Now, he had to get the damn dress off. No matter what she wore, it couldn't compare to the beauty of seeing her naked.
Blessedly, the satin glided up over her shoulders, and he dropped it to the floor. She stood before him with a slip of white lace covering her sex, her breasts bare and her nipples hardened. He pulled her to him, their tongues meeting again, and reached around to squeeze her butt.
Damn. She wore a thong. Sexy as all hell, and he let out a groan. It just about killed him knowing she'd spent the last several hours with a thong on, but on the other hand, it probably had been best he hadn't known. If so, he probably would have tried to find a semi-private corner and lifted that dress right then and there.
The wedding had been simple, taking place the church her mother attended. Huge oak trees framed the ceremony area, red rose bushes at their bases. White chairs had been set up on the thick carpet of lawn, the lovely spring afternoon holding a perfect temperature. His unit had been present, as had all her family, and they'd all let loose at the reception held in a banquet room at the hotel across the street.
Which was where he stood now, palming her breast in the wedding suite, realizing he had never wanted her so badly. Their courtship had been short, but he'd known on their first date that he'd end up here. He'd found his perfect match; the yin to his yang.