In Love with John Doe (3 page)

Lexi continued to surprise him. When she’d blushed at the sight of his bare chest, he’d concluded she was an innocent. One of those pretty women that, for whatever reason, didn’t have much experience with men. Then he’d discovered she had a precocious seven-year-old daughter. A little girl who was the spitting image of her lovely mother.

Jack gazed out the window at the falling snow. He’d enjoyed talking to Addie. The conversation had flowed naturally and he’d felt comfortable around the child. It appeared that he was used to being around children. Did he have a daughter? Or a son? He dropped his gaze to his ringless left finger. Did he have a wife?

Leaning forward, he placed both hands on the windowsill and rested his forehead against the double-plated glass. He closed his eyes and willed himself to remember.

But no memories came forward. It was as if his life had started when the ski patrol had plucked him from the snow.

Reluctantly he straightened. The psychiatrist who’d seen him at the hospital had said that he shouldn’t try to force his recovery. He was supposed to keep his mind open and let the memories come to him.

The trouble was his mind was wide open and nothing was knocking at the door.

Give it time,
he told himself.
There might be a good reason you’re not remembering.
Of all the things the doctor had told him, that comment had concerned him the most. At first he’d worried he’d been skiing with someone—a friend, a wife, a child—and they hadn’t survived.

But when the head of the ski patrol had stopped by the hospital to check on him, the guy had insisted there hadn’t been any other transceiver signals in the area. That seemed to confirm he’d been skiing alone. But why? Especially in such a dangerous area?

Had something happened in his life the day he’d gone to the slopes? Had he fought with a wife or girlfriend? Walked away from his family? Dissed his friends? Was he a jerk? Is that why no one had been with him? Why no one had come forward?

Jack stared out the window at the falling flakes, adding and discarding possibilities until his head began to ache. He massaged the back of his neck trying to ease the tightness. All he had were questions. Not a single answer.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there. It took the loud growling of his stomach to pull him from his reverie. When it continued to rumble, Jack remembered Coraline’s invitation.

His lips tipped upward. Finally, a problem with an easy solution. Grinning, Jack headed to the kitchen.

Lexi exchanged a glance with Coraline. She tried but couldn’t keep her lips from twitching.

“Go ahead and laugh. I’m well aware this is my first meal outside of the hospital.” Jack’s brown eyes danced with good humor. “Yet, even without anything to compare against, I know good food when I taste it.”

“Thank you, Jack. I’m happy you enjoyed it.” Coraline rose to her feet. “Believe it or not, it’s time for me to start getting ready for dinner.”

“I’ll help.” Lexi started to rise but Coraline put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.

“Absolutely not.” Coraline’s smile softened her words. “This is your opportunity to relax and spend time with your little girl.”

“But I want to play checkers with Sarah.” Addie tugged her mother’s sleeve. “You promised if I was better today, we could play. You promised. You—”

“Addison, cut the whine,” Lexi said firmly before turning her gaze to a clearly curious Jack. “Sarah is Addie’s age. Her father is in Jackson on business and she and her mother came with him on this trip.” Lexi settled her gaze on her daughter. “You may play with Sarah until dinnertime. After that you’re stuck with me.”

Addie popped up from the table like a jack-in-the-box. “Can I go now?”

The child danced from one foot to the other, her voice quivering with excitement.

Lexi’s heart overflowed with love for her exuberant child. It was hard to believe she’d once prayed that the positive pregnancy test was a mistake. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without Addie in it. “What do you tell Coraline?”

The child stopped hopping. Her smile disappeared. Confusion blanketed her face.

“Thank you.” Jack spoke behind his hand in an elaborate stage whisper.

Addie’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Thank you, Coraline.” Addie flung her arms around the woman. “Lunch was fabulicious.”

“A compliment doesn’t get much better than that,” Coraline said with a smile.

Addie turned back to her mother. “Can I go now?”

“
May
I go now,” Lexi gently corrected. “And yes, you may.”

“Yippee.” Addie raced from the kitchen without a backward glance.

“Slow down,” Lexi called out.

Before the child had even disappeared from sight, Coraline started clearing the table.

Though Coraline had insisted she didn’t want help, Lexi wasn’t about to sit around and let her do all the work. She’d barely started to rise when Jack appeared behind her, pulling back her chair.

“Allow me,” he said smoothly.

Lexi smiled, impressed by the chivalrous gesture. “You’re quite the gentleman.”

“I guess I am,” he said after a long moment. “I hope so, anyway.”

Lexi’s heart went out to him. She couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to be a stranger in your own body.

Ignoring Coraline’s protests, Lexi gathered up the glasses and Jack scooped up the silverware. While they finished clearing the table, Coraline began loading the dishwasher.

Lexi had just started teasing Jack that if he wasn’t careful Coraline would be putting him to work full-time, when the older woman cleared her throat.

“I don’t mean to kick you out.” She glanced down at her watch. “But—”

“You need to start dinner,” Lexi said with a grin. She knew better than to offer assistance again. The older woman had already made it clear that Lexi was off-duty tonight. “Jack and I will find something to keep us busy.”

Once they were in the hall, Jack stopped her. “You don’t have to babysit me. I’m sure you have your own stuff to do.”

Even though less than an hour before she’d been hoping for an out, her heart gave a little ping. “If you’ve had enough together time, I understand.” Lexi met his gaze. “But if you’re worried about imposing, don’t be. If I had something to do, or somewhere else to be, I’d tell you.”

“You’re as spunky as your daughter.” The admiration took any sting from his words.

“I guess Addie comes by it honestly.” Lexi twisted her lips in a wry smile. “But if I start twirling around, stop me, please.”

He laughed. “What do you propose we do now that twirling is off the table?”

His gaze locked with hers and suddenly, without warning, the world stood still. The chatter from the housebound guests in the great hall faded and Lexi found herself drowning in the dark depths of his eyes. And when his gaze settled on her lips, they began to tingle.

What would it be like to kiss him, she wondered? To have those perfectly sculpted lips pressed against hers…

He took a step closer and when his hand touched her hair, desire rose inside her.

Married.

The word slammed like a snow shovel against the side of her head.

He could be
married.

Lexi took a step back.

His hand dropped to his side.

“We’ve got a couple hours,” Lexi said when she finally found her voice. “What would you like to do?”

“I’m game for anything that will help me remember.”

Though his tone was joking, Lexi knew he was serious. She pondered the possibilities as they continued down the hall into the Great Room. Because of the weather, their options were limited. “I’ve an idea. You know those getting-to-know-you playing cards that were all the rage a couple years ago?”

He tilted his head. A smile played at the corners of his lips. “Do you really think I’d remember something like that when I can’t even remember my name?”

Lexi chuckled. “Good point.”

“Tell me about the cards.” Jack turned to the roaring fire and held his hands out to the warmth.

“It’s a deck of cards with questions that each player answers.” Lexi paused, trying to think of the best way to explain the process. “The questions are designed to delve into a person’s inner psyche and reveal their beliefs. I’ve played it with girlfriends several times and it’s amazing what you learn about each other. And yourself.”

“Sounds interesting,” he said. “I can wait here while you get the cards.”

“Oh-oh.”

“Problem?”

“The cards are in my cabin.”

“I guess we can scratch that plan.” He took a step closer. “Do you have a Plan B?”

He stood so near that Lexi realized if she turned even the tiniest little bit she’d be in his arms.

We could spend the time in bed.

A light flared in his eyes and for a second Lexi feared she’d spoken aloud.

“You’ve thought of something,” he said, his voice deep and low. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. What was it he saw on her face? Desire? Guilt? A combination of the two?

He could be married, she reminded herself, more firmly this time. Even if he hadn’t walked down the aisle, he could be engaged. At the very least—handsome as he was—he had to be dating someone.

“Well,” he prompted. “What is it?”

Her mind searched for something that didn’t involve getting naked. She kept coming up empty until it hit her that she had plans for the evening that preceded Jack Snow and the unexpected blizzard. “Would you like to help me pick out wedding invitations?”

Jack stilled, hoping his shock didn’t show on his face. He’d sworn Lexi had told him she wasn’t engaged or even dating anyone. Or had he just imagined that conversation? “When’s the happy day?”

“Oh, these aren’t for me,” Lexi said with a dismissive wave. “They’re for my friend Mimi.”

Jack pulled his brows together. The conversation was getting stranger by the minute. “Don’t the bride and groom usually pick out their own invitations?”

“You know your weddings.” Lexi waved to two older women enjoying a cup of tea at the dining room table before shifting her attention back to Jack. “But in this case Mimi and Hank have come to an impasse. Since the invitations need to go out in two weeks, they decided that I should choose.”

“You’re serious.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You don’t approve.”

“It doesn’t matter if I approve or not.” He stepped aside to let another couple pass. “It just seems to me that if two people supposedly in love can’t compromise on invitations they have no business getting married.”

Lexi’s jaw jutted out. “Selecting invitations isn’t an easy process.”

Let it go,
he told himself. He didn’t know these people. Who cared if they let a friend—or even a stranger—choose their invitations? But for some reason it
did
matter.

“You and I just met,” he said in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. “But I bet
we
could settle on an invitation we both liked.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Of course we could. This isn’t our wedding. We’re not emotionally invested in the outcome.”

“Cop-out.”

Lexi’s brows slammed together. “What did you say?”

Oops. Obviously he’d been a bit too direct.

“We’ll pretend it’s real. Enter into a good, honest discussion and see what happens,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “Unless you’re afraid to try.”

Jack expected an outright refusal or at least a strong rebuttal. He didn’t expect her to turn on her heel and head back down the hall.

“Hey,” he called out. “Where are you going?”

“To get Coraline’s laptop.” She tossed the words over her shoulder. “Then you and I are picking out wedding invitations.”

Lexi opened her mouth then shut it and counted to ten. If she’d thought he was going to simply go along with her preferences, she’d been mistaken.

When she’d placed the laptop on the coffee table in the Great Room and pulled up one of the largest sites for online wedding invitations, Lexi had made a conscious decision. She wouldn’t even think about Mimi and Hank’s preferences. Instead she’d do as the bride-to-be had suggested and choose the invitations as if they were for her own wedding.

Unfortunately, now there was a male’s opposing opinion thrown into the mix. The style had been their first argument, er, disagreement. She wanted fancy. He wanted casual. After much back-and-forth discussion, she’d reconsidered. This would be an afternoon wedding. In a wildflower garden. A less formal invitation only made sense. Thankfully there were some very cool casual invitations.

Unfortunately, there were also a gazillion of them. They finally settled on one with a celery-colored flower and brown lettering that they’d both liked.

Then it had taken her almost a half hour to get Jack to see that there was no need to purchase RSVP response cards for the reception. He’d been adamant that they were essential…until she’d given him the statistics from a prominent wedding site on how few people responded even when a stamped envelope was included.

She’d hoped the font discussion would go more quickly, but so far that hadn’t happened.

“The font you’re proposing just doesn’t fit the casual style of our invitations,” Jack said in a reasonable tone that set her teeth on edge.

Lexi traced the curves and swirls of the beautiful font on the sheet of paper she’d printed out. Years ago, back when she’d been waiting for Drew to pop the question, she’d done a little invitation shopping and had fallen in love with this particular font. But Drew had never asked and now the font—which she’d thought might have a second chance—was in danger of being cast aside. Much like she’d been all those years ago.

Unexpected tears stung the back of her lids, but Lexi blinked them back. She cleared her throat. “It’s just that way back when I dreamed of a big wedding, I always pictured my invitations with this font.”

Without warning, Jack’s hand closed over hers. “Then you must have it.”

His generosity brought a lump to her throat. But as much as she wanted to take the offer and run with it, this was a joint effort. “No.”

“No?”

“You’re right. The font
is
too formal for the invitations and the type of ceremony planned. Besides, it’s supposed to be your wedding, too,” Lexi said. “We’ll find one we both like. One that will be perfect for our fabulous invitations.”

Fifteen minutes later the selections had been completed and invitations ordered using Mimi’s credit card number. Because they needed to be mailed out in two weeks, Lexi chose the rush delivery option.

After writing down the confirmation number, she flipped the laptop lid shut and smiled at Jack. “Thank you. You definitely brought value to the process.”

“I don’t know that I added all that much—”

“You were a natural,” she said. “It was as if you’d been through the process before.”

“Perhaps I have.”

Something in his tone alerted her. Lexi took her time unplugging the laptop. “Did ordering the invitations jog something in your memory banks?”

He shrugged and his eyes refused to meet hers.

“You can be honest with me.”

“I remember a wedding. I wore a tux.” His brows pulled together in a frown. “But there were roses on the altar.
Roses.
That doesn’t make any sense.”

Lexi wasn’t sure what the point was, though she was sure there was one. “Roses are a common wedding flower. The long-stemmed white ones are a favorite of mine.”

“I detest them. Their sickening sweet smell alone makes me nauseated.”

Lexi forced a light tone. “So either it wasn’t your wedding or the bride refused to compromise on the flowers.”

He didn’t smile back.

“I don’t
feel
married,” he said slowly, his gaze meeting hers. “Don’t you think if I’d walked down the aisle, I’d remember?”

“I don’t know,” Lexi said honestly. “The psychiatrist would be the one to answer that question.”

“If I did have a wife, wouldn’t she be looking for me?”

“Unless she’s an ex.” Lexi’s spirits lifted at the thought.

A look of desperation filled his eyes. “I want to remember.”

“I know you do.” Lexi placed a hand on his arm. “But you got tossed around pretty badly in that avalanche. Cut yourself a little slack. Your memory will come back. Just give it time.”

Slowly the panic in his eyes receded. “You’re right.” He gave a halfhearted chuckle. “I wonder if I was this impatient in my other life.”

Lexi grinned. “Probably.”

He studied her for a long moment. “You’re a nice person, Lexi. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

When she rose, he scrambled to his feet. “If there’s anything I can do for you, just say the word.”

“Flowers,” she said.

“What?”

“The word is flowers.”

Jack cocked his head. Then a slow smile stole over his face. “I’d love to buy you flowers. What kind do you like?”

“Not for me,” she said. “On Monday I have an appointment with the florist in town to pick out flowers for Mimi and Hank’s wedding.”

“Let me guess,” he said. “You need a male perspective.”

“Why, Mr. Snow.” Lexi batted her lashes and spoke in her best Southern drawl imitation. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were psychic.”

“You may be right, Ms. Brennan.” Jack tapped an index finger against his temple. “Because I already know there’s not going to be any roses.”