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The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(76)

Author:Jewel E. Ann

“You’ll be cold.”

“I know.”

“You could sleep with me.” He set the game aside.

“I said I’m not—”

“Sleep. Just sleep.”

“What about Rory and—”

“I’ll kick you out before they wake in the morning.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Can’t control yourself?”

“Full. Of. Yourself.”

His grin faded, gaze averting to the space between us. Confusion replaced all amusement. “Full of yourself,” he whispered before lifting his gaze to meet mine. “You’ve said that before. At my office. You …” He shook his head. “You were mad at me. Do you remember?”

It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening. “Do you remember that?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s like déjà vu. You said that and it was too familiar, like we’ve played this out before, but not here.”

I wasn’t entirely sure when I said that to him. It was over five years earlier. Those were words I could have used on multiple occasions.

“I don’t know. What else did I say?”

Fisher continued to shake his head. “I … I don’t know. But if it’s a memory …”

I nodded. “Then you might be getting your memory back or at least your brain is trying to make some connections again.”

“Maybe.” He nodded slowly, confusion still veiling his face.

Was it time to tell him about us? He had fallen in love with me, without those memories, without me telling him about us.

He reclined onto his pillow. “So weird … I see you with your hands on your hips. You’re angry. Do you remember being angry with me?”

I chuckled. “Sorry. I was mad at you on lots of occasions. You’re not narrowing it down much.”

“Maybe it’s the beer.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Maybe.” I shut off the lantern light and curled up next to him, covering us with the top of his sleeping bag and a fleece blanket.

“You’re staying?” he mumbled. So much exhaustion in his voice.

“I’m staying.” I hugged his body and kissed his neck.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The night in the tent was the beginning of what felt like the end, even if I wasn’t sure what the end really meant for me. For us.

I immersed myself in work and read absolutely everything Holly gave me to read.

Halloween.

Early November snow.

And no Fisher.

Was I avoiding him? Yes.

Did he know why? Yes.

However, it was nearly impossible to avoid him until January, as I found out three weeks after my birthday. On my way home from a birth around noon on a Saturday, I stopped for gas. As I waited for it to get filled up, Fisher’s work truck pulled in the opposite side of the pump.

My heart crashed against my chest. He’s here! And my conscience said to chill out. Stay calm. No big deal.

A crazy big grin stretched across his face as he climbed out of his truck in jeans, work boots, and a dirty hoodie. “Hey.”

My heart won. I matched his grin, maybe even upped it a notch. “Hey.”

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