Forgive and Forget(14)

“Come on out of there, Joe. It’s okay.”

After some hesitation and a few encouraging murmurs from Tom, Joe carefully sat back on his heels. Perhaps he was being a tad melodramatic. He smoothed down his hair and shirt, muttering embarrassingly, “You’re mentally incapacitated, and my friend’s trying to set you up on a date.”

“Heaven knows you need one,” Bea muttered.

Unbelievable. “Someone steal your last pair of panty hose or something? Jesus.” Joe let Tom help him to his feet but couldn’t quite bring himself to look the man in the eye. There was no doubt in his mind that if Tom could recall his memories, he’d agree this was the craziest thing to ever happen to him. Joe cast Bea a sideward glance. “What happened to sinister? First you wanted to introduce him to Silver, and now you want me to serve him up with a side of ice cream.”

What is wrong with you? My God, this is getting worse by the minute. Every time he opened his mouth, strange words came out. Joe swallowed hard and found Tom looking around the room, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Bea opened her mouth—no doubt to reveal more of Joe’s nonexistent love life, so he hastily ushered her toward the door. “Thanks, Bea. Now, you run along, and I’ll call if I need anything.” He got her to the side door leading to the outside stairs, grateful Tom stayed behind in the kitchen. He probably sensed Joe was on the verge of going off like a firecracker.

“I’m telling you, Joe, that man looks at you the way people look at your pies. He wants to take a bite out of you, and I sure do hope you let him.”

“That’s been my plan this whole time,” Joe whispered conspiratorially. “That’s why I’m rushing you out, because we’re going to sit on the couch like a couple of teenagers and you don’t want to be around when the groping starts.”

Bea arched an eyebrow. “No one likes a smartass.”

“But you love me, I know you do. Good night and thank you.” He kissed her cheek and gently shoved her out the door. Once the door was closed, he dropped his head against it with a heavy thud. Thank God, the worst was over.

“They’re really nice. A little… odd, but sweet.”

“Sweet Jesus!” Joe gave a start and spun away from the door, tripping over his own feet in the process. He was getting to know his carpet pretty well these days. With a groan, he rolled onto his back, his eyes shut tight, mostly because he felt Tom kneel down beside him, and he couldn’t find the nerve to face him just yet.

Why was it that when a guy tried his hardest not to look like a complete loon, fate decided to prove that’s just what he was? His life used to be so calm and uneventful. Now there was a tall, sinfully handsome man with no name and a magnetic force strong enough to pull in a cruise ship staying with him. Why did Joe get the feeling he was about to enter deep waters? Two words sprang to mind.

Man overboard!

“Joe? Are you all right?”

Tom’s voice was laced with genuine concern, and when Joe opened his eyes, Tom’s expression was overflowing with it.

“Mm?” was all Joe could muster. He was too enthralled by what he thought he saw to string coherent words together, not to mention Tom’s nearness was sending his pulse soaring like a rocket.

“Thank God. Sorry I scared you. You’re kind of jumpy, aren’t you?”

What was he supposed to say to that? Yes, yes he was. Heat rose to his face. He was blushing, which, thanks to his fair skin and freckles, would be a lot more obvious. Swell. He was grateful when Tom pulled him to his feet.

“Tom, I, um, I should probably warn you. I’m always like this. I’m fidgety, talk to myself, stick my head in ovens and trip over things because when I haven’t got my head stuck in an appliance, it’s up in the clouds somewhere. I run on coffee, and when the coffee’s run out, I still act like I’m running on coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Even when I’m sitting still, my mind’s going at full speed. I’m just telling you this so you don’t think you’re staying with some crazy twit. I’m not crazy or a twit. I know I probably sound like it right now, but I’m pretty certain Jules would have said something if I was certifiably ready for Bedlam, and if you haven’t guessed, I ramble too. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tom chuckled and led Joe over to the couch, pulling him down with him as he sat. He was grinning from ear to ear, and Joe couldn’t figure out what he’d done to be on the receiving end of such a smile. Now that the craziness had somewhat ebbed—or spread—it was too soon to tell—it was a little strange sitting here on his usually empty couch in the middle of his usually empty living room, holding hands with a complete stranger and liking it. Maybe Bea had whacked him a little too hard on the head and he was the one lying facedown with a concussion.

“Joe, you don’t have to explain yourself, or be anyone other than you. Not for anyone else and certainly not for me.”

Joe eyed him skeptically. “Yeah?”

“The way Elsie, Donnie, and Bea jump to your defense, shows how much they care about you. Even if you are a little crazy.” Tom laughed softly at Joe’s pout, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Lucky for both of us, I happen to be a guy who doesn’t mind a little crazy.”

“Ah, but you don’t know that,” Joe pointed out, tapping Tom lightly on the head. “You might not like it at all.”