Forgive and Forget (11 page)

“That doesn’t mean you don’t have someone. I won’t be that guy.”

“You think I’m a cheat?” Tom replied affronted. “I don’t cheat, and I don’t lie. The thought of cheating on someone I care about upsets me as much as it does you.”

“But you don’t know that,” Joe insisted, tapping his head. “You can’t even remember your name! What if there’s someone you’re crazy about who’s out there frantic that you’ve gone missing?”

“I might not remember my name, but that doesn’t mean the memories aren’t in there somewhere. When I thought about someone hurting you, I felt sick to my stomach. Like I was actually going to be sick. Why would that happen, Joe? Then I think of being with someone else, and I don’t feel anything. Nothing. No fuzzy images, no warmth. There’s nothing there. I’m sorry if you regret what happened. I know I can’t remember things, but goddammit, that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings or instincts. I know deep, deep, down inside myself that I’ve never felt anything like what I feel when I’m around you, and not because I can’t remember someone else, but because I’ve never felt this with anyone. It’s new to me. I know it sounds crazy, but then that’s pretty much the word du jour these days, but I feel like I’ve known you for so much longer.”

“But you don’t know me,” Joe sighed.

“I know people. I know frustration. Before you tell me I don’t know because I can’t remember, I do know. I know it’s important somehow, in my life, to
see
people, really see them. When I think about the world out there, bad things come to mind. Betrayal, evil, horrible human beings who care more about money than the lives they destroy. This, here, with you, it’s… different.”

Tom could see Joe mulling that over and becoming more wary, but he had to make Joe understand. Carefully, he walked up to Joe and gingerly took his hand, his chest tightening when Joe let him. “I’m not saying any of this to scare you, but I promised Bea I would be honest with you, Joe, and I will. Always. Inside, I feel like I’m surrounded by darkness, but I’m not a bad person, Joe. I can’t be. Not when… not when I feel like I do about you. Not when your smile feels like a lighthouse beacon, guiding me back to safe shores. I’ve been trapped in the shadows for so long that your light is the most amazing thing I’ve felt since… I don’t know when. I need you. Something inside me is drawing me to you. Please don’t turn me away now. Not when I’ve found you through the darkness.”

Joe slowly pulled his hand away and closed his eyes, most likely trying to bring himself to his senses. Lord knew Tom was beginning to feel like he’d lost his. He sure as hell hoped his instincts weren’t wrong about Joe. Or himself.

“I’m sorry I’ve caused you trouble,” Tom said quietly. “When I think about it, it’s crazy. Maybe it’s all a bunch of bullshit.” Tom’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “Maybe I’m not the nice guy I tell myself I am.” He looked down at his knuckles and let out a humorless laugh. “Who am I trying to kid here? Look at me. Nice guys don’t live in the shadows. They don’t end up facedown in the dirt, lurking in the dark with detectives looking for them.”

If there hadn’t been utter silence in the room, Tom would never have heard Joe’s “no.” He waited, holding his breath the entire time. When he thought he was going to pass out, Joe finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry. I… I don’t regret what happened. I know it sounds pathetic, but this sort of thing has never been easy for me. I’m not very good at it. Relationships, I mean, not the, um, ‘finding a guy with amnesia’ thing. Don’t think I didn’t want to, because I did. I just… I’ve been hurt before, and by someone I knew a hell of a lot more about. It’s hard for me, and it’s even harder to trust someone who I don’t know can be trusted.”

Tom’s heart squeezed at the uncertain yet endearing expression on Joe’s face. The man had absolutely no idea how sweet he was. Joe had every right to tell Tom to get the hell out of his life. He had no reason to trust in anything Tom said or even listen to what Tom had to say. How could someone meet Joe and
not
fall for him?

Edging a little closer as if he were approaching a wounded animal, Tom tenderly reached out to Joe. No feelings of rejection coursed through him this time when Joe’s shoulder came up a little and he stood stock-still. Tom could only imagine how much that one move must have cost Joe, who no doubt felt like running for the hills. Tom wasn’t about to let Joe’s bravery go unrewarded.

Pulling him into his embrace, Tom placed a kiss to Joe’s temple, feeling Joe stiffen. He slowly rubbed his hand up and down Joe’s back, placing little kisses on top of his head, behind his ear, his neck. Whatever the reasons for Joe’s apprehensions, Tom was going to do his best to ease them. Joe needed to be cared for. Tom didn’t know how he knew that. There seemed to be a lot about Joe that felt oddly… right.

“You’re right,” Tom admitted. “We should take things as they come, get to know each other. I know I can’t tell you much, but we can still learn about each other. Maybe it’ll even help me remember. Will you give me a chance to prove myself? To show you that you can trust me?”

Joe paused before relaxing in Tom’s arms. He shifted from one foot to the other. “Okay.”

Tom wanted to kiss Joe within an inch of his life. Instead, he said, “Deal. All right, jitterbug.”

Joe met his gaze, one eyebrow arched. “What did you call me?”

Tom smiled ruefully. “Jitterbug. It seems to fit. You’re all jittery and cute.”

“Oh. I thought you were about to turn into George Michael and start singing.”

“Would you like that?” Tom teased.

As serious as could be, Joe shook his head, but amusement shone in his eyes. “Please don’t.”

Tom threw his head back and laughed. Incapable of holding back, he planted a quick, sloppy kiss on Joe’s lips and hugged him tight. “I wish you knew how goddamn adorable you are.”

“Right, well, I should probably check on Bea and the kids. Why don’t you, um, take the rest of the night off? Order us some takeout. We’ll watch some TV. What do you think?”

“Sounds great.” Tom headed to the couch and sat down, holding back a grin as Joe shuffled to the door, avoiding Tom’s gaze like the plague. The slight flush of his cheeks gave him away, which only made the grumpy ramblings coming out of him all the more sweet.

Tom put his shirt on and sat back, thinking about everything he’d told Joe. Nothing he said hadn’t been true, and a good deal of that worried him, mostly the part regarding the darkness. Whoever he was, he was all too familiar with a world so far removed from Joe’s that it terrified him. He needed to remember, not just for himself, but for Joe. Whatever he was a part of, he couldn’t bring that darkness down on Joe.

JOE
wasn’t the only one smitten with Tom.

Bea had gone from being suspicious of Tom to wanting to hire him. His natural talent and skills meant she could give him any job and have it completed swiftly and efficiently. All he had to do was see how something was done once and he had it memorized. Tom strategized and executed his tasks with military precision. The kitchen had never been so spotless. Everything was fully stocked, organized, labeled, and monitored. Tom never missed a beat, and he did it all with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step. Joe had never seen anyone look so happy slicing fruit. The guy never seemed to run out of energy.

“He’s like a superhero,” Donnie gushed as he mopped the floor. “Did you know he can move around the kitchen with his eyes closed and not bump into anything? We tried it this morning. Didn’t run into one thing. He can do pretty much anything with his eyes closed, even carve an apple! He’s teaching me how to defend myself.”

Joe wasn’t too sure about Tom showing Donnie how to throw punches, but Donnie promised he’d be careful, and Tom wasn’t wrong in believing Donnie should know how to defend himself, especially since the kid walked everywhere and was somewhat on the lanky side.

“If you like him so much, maybe you should marry him,” Bea teased Donnie as she took the mop from him and handed him a tray filled with dirty dishware.

Donnie let out a snort. “If I was gay, I’d totally marry him. The guy can cook, clean, and kick butt. Admit it, Bea. You want to marry him too.”

“Son, we would have been on our honeymoon by now.”

“Donnie, don’t encourage her,” Joe muttered as he finished cleaning up the counter and came around the front. The last thing he needed was Bea going on about what she’d do to Tom on her imaginary honeymoon.

“Joe should marry him,” Elsie said with a dreamy sigh. “You two would be perfect together. He’s crazy about you, Joe.”

Joe tripped over his feet. Luckily they’d closed shop early and there were no customers to hear this ridiculous conversation or witness another bout of gracelessness from him. More importantly, Tom was in the kitchen behind a set of thick swinging doors with some old jazz playing.

“I don’t know that he’s crazy about me,” Joe replied, hoping his face wasn’t as hot as it felt. His mind went back to the other night on the couch, and every night since then. Their evening would start out innocently enough. Dinner, some TV, maybe a movie, and then they’d somehow end up pressed together on the couch. Tom would touch Joe, and it would be all over. They’d end up half-naked giving each other hand jobs or blow jobs, with Tom making Joe’s toes curl in his determination to drive Joe out of his mind. Tom’s lips were magic, working Joe over, and
oh my God, why am I thinking about that now
?

“You’re blushing,” Elsie said with a giggle. “You know it’s true.”

“You know what? Get in the kitchen. Everyone in the kitchen. Mrs. Rotherford’s pies won’t bake themselves, and you’ve left Tom to do all the work.”

“Well, he’s like a one man pie-baking army,” Donnie stated cheerfully as he left to wash the dishes. Joe shooed Bea and Elsie off to help Tom while he finished getting the shop ready for the next day. It was odd how things felt the same around here, yet different, as if Tom had always been a part of their little misfit crew. Joe knew he shouldn’t think about Tom in the long term. For all they knew, Tom would wake up tomorrow and remember everything. Of course Joe wanted him to remember—he would never be so selfish as to wish Tom never regained his memory simply to have him stay—but it didn’t stop Joe from worrying about what came next. Would Tom still feel the same about Joe once he stopped being Tom? Would he stop being Tom?

Bea returned from the kitchen, her pad and pencil in her hand. “Joe, I almost forgot—that friend of yours, what’s his name, the one who wears all those pretty dresses?”

Joe arched an eyebrow. “Care to be more specific?”

“You know, the one who works on Broadway or something.”

“Ah, Ken.”

“That’d be the one. He dropped by while you popped out for groceries, said to tell you he expects you at his costume party this weekend.”

“Oh, I don’t know….” Joe started to grumble when Bea grabbed hold of his arm and hauled him to the other end of the room so fast he almost hurt something.

“You need to get out and have some fun, Joe. Take poor Tom with you. The man’s going to go stir-crazy in there. I bet he’d love the chance to spend some time with you outside of this place.”

“You really think he’d like it?” Maybe Bea was right. Just because Joe enjoyed staying in, that didn’t mean the same went for Tom. Ken’s penthouse was a few blocks down. If they took a cab, went straight to the party and came right back, they should be all right. Plus, it was a costume party, so Tom would be in disguise. “You’re right,” Joe declared, straightening and then marching into the kitchen, where Tom was kneading dough. When Tom saw him coming, the smile on his face nearly knocked Joe over, and he found himself floundering.

“Um, uh, hi, Tom.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I uh, I wanted to ask if maybe, um….” Cripes, why did he turn into such a blithering idiot whenever he was faced with the man?
Just do it, Joe. For crying out loud.
He opened his mouth and the words tumbled out in a rush. “Would you like to come to a friend’s costume party with me tomorrow night?”

“A party?”

Joe nodded. “I know it sounds a little crazy considering your current situation, but Ken’s apartment isn’t far. We take a cab there and back. You’ll be in disguise. One night wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Tom considered this. “Would I be going as your date?”

Joe cleared his throat. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Great. I don’t generally stay very long at these things, but I thought it might be nice to go out for a while. Ken’s a producer on Broadway, so he can get us some costumes. I’ll give him a call tonight and ask him to get his assistant to drop them off.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. I’m going to uh, go make that phone call. Be back in a bit.” Joe headed toward the stairs to his apartment. It was no big deal. Just because Tom was going as his date, to a party, in front of people, that was no reason to panic. It was one party. Granted, it was one of Ken’s parties, but it wasn’t like they had to be there long. Have a few drinks, catch up with Ken and Gordon, and say good night. It was just to get Tom out of the shop for a few hours. No big deal. Completely uneventful.

DAMN
Tom and his dimples.

They were almost at penthouse level. Joe was aware of Tom trying his hardest not to smile. He hadn’t stopped fidgeting since they left the apartment. The costumes had been dropped off that morning by Ken’s assistant, and Tom hadn’t stopped eyeing Joe since he’d put on the outfit. Ken knew Joe well, because the ringmaster costume he sent Joe covered him up pretty much from head to toe, from the black top hat on his head to his white-gloved hands and his shiny black boots. Anything more revealing would have gotten a “no” from him. Tom’s outfit, on the other hand, had his legs, arms, and neck bare.

“Are you sure I don’t look like an idiot?” Joe muttered, tugging on the lapels of the ornate, red tailcoat. He flicked the fringe on one of the gold shoulder epaulettes with a frown. Tom leaned in to kiss his cheek and reassure him for the hundredth time.