One Southern Cowboy - Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,14

his bed, he felt like his insides were getting kicked. He’d already iced his ankle this morning, which had helped tremendously to ease the swelling and pain. He pointed to an empty chair near him. “Have a seat.”

“Thanks,” she said, pulling it out.

“How did you sleep?” Jaxson began.

“Okay,” she said casually, but the faint shadows beneath her eyes spoke otherwise.

“That was Officer Williams on the phone. I’ve got some good news.”

“Oh?”

Jaxson caught the flicker of concern in Lemon’s eyes even though she was trying to conceal it beneath a mask of calm. He wondered again what had happened to her. She was definitely afraid of something. “Some good Samaritan found your purse in a ditch and took it to the station.”

“That is good news.”

Her words were spoken so blandly that he wasn’t sure if she actually meant it. He thought about what Doctor Jepson said. Lemon’s subconscious didn’t want to remember who she was … not until she could deal with whatever trauma she’d experienced.

“Your wallet was in your purse. Your license was there, along with a few credit cards … and a little over a thousand dollars cash.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. That’s good to know.” Her expression brightened. “Now, I can buy clothes that fit and some makeup.” She grimaced. “I might not be able to remember anything, but I feel sure that I didn’t always go around looking so dreadful.” She ran a self-conscious hand through her hair. She’d washed it this morning. It was soft with a slight wave. The ends bounced lightly against her slender shoulders with her every movement. He had to fight the temptation to lean closer so he could get a whiff of it. Zoe had added shampoo into the bag she’d packed for Lemon. Would it smell of strawberries or some other tantalizing fruit?

Laughter rumbled in his throat. “You couldn’t look dreadful if you tried.”

She blinked in surprise, color brushing her cheeks with a rosy hue. “Thank you,” she murmured, her lashes sweeping against her smooth skin. The gesture was feminine, wildly attractive. He swallowed the dryness in his throat, reminding himself that it would be poor form to hit on a woman in Lemon’s condition, even if she were his ex-girlfriend. There were so many memories—the two of them hanging out at the local hamburger joint and sharing fries. Sneaking up to the swimming hole and swimming under the silvery light of the moon.

Jaxson felt an acute sense of loss that Lemon couldn’t remember any of that. Also, she couldn’t remember betraying him. An invisible fist squeezed his gut. It was astounding how fresh the hurt was. He wondered if maybe it was because he’d never really dealt with it. He’d pushed it under the rug and lost himself in the admiration of other women.

She looked up, and it happened. Their eyes met for one long, delicious moment. His blood pumped faster. Attraction sizzled in the air, prickling his skin. Was it all one-sided or was Lemon feeling it too? Amnesia or not, had Lemon been any other woman, Jaxson would’ve taken this opportunity to say some cute or witty remark that would increase the odds of having her eating out of the palm of his hand. But here and now, with Lemon, his tongue was strangely tied, like he was eighteen years old again. He looked at Lemon’s hand resting on the table. It was dangerously close to his. He traced the lines of her long fingers. Her nails were well-manicured and painted light pink. All he had to do was reach out and touch her fingers. Did he dare? The temptation tugged at him, beckoning him down paths that he had no business going down ever again. He pulled his hands back, flicking his wrists before clasping them tightly in his lap.

He cleared his throat, trying to get a handle on his thoughts. He’d told himself he wanted to help Lemon. Making a play for her would definitely not help! “The police had hoped there would be a phone in your purse, but there wasn’t. They wanted to look at your calls so they can discover where you were just prior to the accident last night.”

“There was no phone?” she asked, as if she’d just now processed what he’d said earlier.

“No.”

“That’s strange,” she mused, tipping her head and causing her silky hair to cascade down her arm. His fingers itched to touch it to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Yeah, a little.” He didn’t want to