Can't Take the Heat Read Online Free PDF Page B

kitchen.
    “It’s my business because you’re my brother and Delaney’s my friend.” Chelsea threaded her fingers through the hair at her temples, shaking her head. “I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning, but damn, I thought you’d be able to control yourself for more than ten minutes.”
    Wes yanked the refrigerator door open and pulled out a beer. He was going to need it. “She started it.”
    “But you finished it.” She leveled a scowl of rebuke at him.
    Grabbing the magnetized bottle opener from its place on the side of the fridge, he cracked the cap on his brew and took a deep pull on the bottle before responding. “Believe me, I know perfectly well what I’ve done and why I shouldn’t have. But damn it, Chelsea, I also know this is between Delaney and me. You need to keep your oar out.”
    She puffed up her cheeks before heaving out a gusty sigh. “I just wish you’d refused to go along with this.” She lowered her voice to something approaching a whisper. “For God’s sake, Wes, she thinks you’re married . What’s going to happen when she remembers what really happened?”
    Good question. He wished he knew. On second thought, maybe he didn’t.
    “This was her decision and you know it. She wanted to follow the doctor’s recommendation. I think I’d be a pretty shitty person to deny her that option.” He fixed his sister with a hard stare. “And so would you, on the off chance you’re considering it.”
    She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and back again, as though realizing she’d stepped in quicksand but unsure how to get out of it. “It’s hard, Wes. I can’t help wondering how I’d feel if I were in her shoes. I’d want to know.”
    “And then you’d never be sure the memories you got back were really your own. We could tell her everything, but we’d be telling her what we remember, not what she does. Not what she feels . I don’t want to take that away from her. Do you?”
    Chelsea couldn’t meet his gaze. She turned to look out the window. At this altitude, on the penultimate floor of the high-rise casino, the city of Las Vegas spread out below like a patchwork quilt all the way to mountains. The afternoon sun pounded the rooftops and pavements, the latent heat transforming into a visible haze that hovered in the air. Brutal and beautiful. Those words described Sin City to a T.
    “You’re right,” she said at last. “This is Delaney’s decision to make, and I’ll respect that. But you might consider that it’s not her I’m worried about.”

    Wes and I aren’t together anymore.
    I’ve suspected this since I woke up the second time, but I kept dismissing the evidence because I didn’t want to accept it. And at first, that was pretty easy because I could explain away the signs.
    True, I wasn’t wearing my engagement or wedding rings when I woke up in the hospital, but I wouldn’t have expected to be. I don’t wear rings when I’m working because they can rip through surgical gloves. But that has become harder to ignore since it’s been three days since I woke up in the hospital and no one has produced those rings.
    Then, there’s the lack of wedding pictures in the apartment. I told myself Wes must have taken them down because he didn’t want to influence my memory with pictures of events I’ve forgotten, but it’s not just the wedding pictures that are missing. It’s any pictures of Wes and me together.
    This afternoon, we got to the condoms. I didn’t give much thought to it at the time—I was otherwise occupied—but why would Wes have a nightstand full of condoms if we’ve been married for almost three years? Okay, I suppose we could have been considering having a baby. That would have meant me going off the Pill for a month or so before we started trying, so I guess we’d need them then, but I’m having a hard time swallowing that idea. I can’t believe I would have changed my mind about getting a place of our own