скачать книгу бесплатно
“And you are, Porter.” Courtney dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “But you hired help. So let them help. You don’t need to hover. I certainly never hovered over you and I was a single parent. I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Not when it comes to my grandson.”
“I appreciate that, Mother.” Porter’s tone was level as if he knew to keep it calm for his son, although the set of his broad shoulders made it clear his patience with his mother was nearing an end. “But I think a mix of help and hands-on work is best. Besides, we won’t use the help forever. That’s just until we’ve settled back into a routine.”
So he had been serious when he’d said the night nurse was a component of her recovery. He was sincere about being a fully involved parent. She admired that. Wanted to be part of that unit. Thomas deserved that dedication from both of them.
His mom’s counter came within seconds. “That’s where I think you might be wrong. I think the full-time help is wonderful. It really expands what you can do at the company. You know he’s in good hands. And you can work more, grow the empire and make sure he has whatever he wants in his life.”
Alaina assumed her mother-in-law’s advice was coming from a good place. But it seemed more than a tad controlling. She admired Porter’s restraint in not calling out his mom on that and wondered if he was holding back to keep things peaceful, not just for Thomas, but for Alaina, too.
Maybe this had been why she and her mother-in-law hadn’t gotten along before the amnesia. She didn’t need her memories to clue her in on that.
She just resented the way Porter’s and his mother’s issues were intruding on what had been the best day Alaina could remember having with her husband, when there were precious few to remember.
In spite of knowing there was so much of her life left to uncover, she found herself wanting more of those new memories.
* * *
He closed the door behind his mother. Finally. And not soon enough.
He’d known this was a bad idea, having his mom here for Christmas. She hadn’t ever been the home and hearth for the holidays sort, and she certainly hadn’t got along with Alaina. This wasn’t the joyous, peaceful atmosphere he’d been attempting to create with his wife. This evening was a prime example. His day with Alaina had been derailed by that damn awkward dinner.
At least Courtney was out for the evening with Barry the tax attorney. Just like that, she’d become the mother of his youth. The one who was interested in men more than family. The one who put boyfriends first.
Alaina’s misfortune was that she couldn’t remember a thing. His great curse was that he couldn’t forget a single damn moment. What a pair they made.
Cricking his neck to the side, he strode to his office computer and uploaded some videos of their Tallahassee house onto a disc for Alaina so she could see where they’d lived. Maybe that would jostle a memory. And maybe she would see her own stamp on their life in a way she hadn’t here.
He was struck by the irony. Even with streaming music, some people still made music mixes on CDs as a gift, full of “their songs.” Not him. But then he wasn’t sure she would even like the same music anymore. His whole life felt upside down lately.
He thought all he’d wanted was the family he’d dreamed of having, but in getting to know Alaina again, seeing her in a new way after the accident, his feelings were mixed up.
Even his mother’s behavior tonight had rocked him. It’s not that he minded that she had a new beau. She was a grown-up, after all. But it brought the weight of his past crashing down on him.
Needing to calm himself, Porter made his way to Thomas’s nursery. Seeing his son was a way to remind himself that this was not the past. That he was going to be an active part of his son’s life. That he was making the family he’d always wanted.
Porter had never lacked material objects as a child. His mother was a brilliant attorney and made a decent salary.
But he had been profoundly lonely. And he never wanted Thomas to experience that. Never wanted him to feel as if he wasn’t welcome, as if he wasn’t wanted.
Courtney had chased love for Porter’s whole life. Moving from man to man. Men who seldom bothered to learn Porter’s name, always settling on the generic “sport” or “son.” Nameless. Invisible.
He’d attended an elite boarding school from middle school through high school. He was home for three weeks over Christmas and two months over the summer.
It was common for his mother to promise to spend time with him only to bail in favor of a date and time at the bar. She’d always promised to take him to movie releases, or ice-skating or bowling. But more often than not, Porter did all those things with a nanny instead of with his mother. He was frequently sent to his room so his mother and her current boyfriend could have the run of the house, child-free.
But there had been one Christmas break when he was in seventh grade that completely changed their relationship forever. It was part of the reason he still felt so distant from his mother. The experience left him feeling like a part-time son in a part-time family.
Alaina might not have ever gone to Colorado, but he sure as hell had.
He had come home from break, excited for the plans he had made with his mother over the school year. They were supposed to go skiing in Colorado. It was going to be a winter wonderland filled with snow, hot chocolate and sports.
They had gone to Colorado. But Courtney had brought a nanny along for the ride. As well as her boyfriend. She’d enrolled Porter in a snow camp for the day and the nanny entertained him at night while Courtney wined and dined. He’d even discovered she planned the whole trip around her meet-up with the guy. Porter had felt completely let down. He’d wanted to spend time with his mother. Even as a teen, he’d been seeking that connection. But it was on that trip that he’d realized it would never happen. If he wanted a family of his own, he would have to create it himself.
Shoving the memory aside, Porter stood over the crib. Thomas snoozed, breathing light little breaths. He was so peaceful.
It would be different for Thomas. Porter and Alaina would figure out how to be around each other. They would move past the temporary truce they’d erected before the accident and live as a family. Alaina seemed to feel their connection as much as he did. Even if she regained her memories, surely she would forgive the past and stay this time. And they both already felt so bonded to their son.
A muted knock sounded from behind him. Porter wheeled around to see Alaina standing in the doorway. She’d already changed for bed. She was in a racerback tank top that showed off her ample curves. The black shorts hugged her legs, inching up her strong thighs. His gaze lingered on her smiling face.
“Hey. You know, today was pretty amazing. Maybe you’re not so terrible at that romance thing.” Her voice was low, but playful. Almost like the Alaina he had first fallen in love with. He ached to grab her, to draw her into his arms.
“Well, I only know how to go big or go home.”
“Today was great. All the things we found for Thomas. You bringing the decorations out for us tonight. Trying to get our own holiday traditions started. It was sweet and it meant a lot to me.” She stepped close to him. Just barely out of reach.
Close enough that the coconut scent of her shampoo teased his senses. Close enough that he ached to pull her to him and take her to bed. Patience be damned. But there was too much at stake. Keeping them together. Keeping her happy. Keeping her.
He forced himself to measure his words.
“I want us to be a family.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from grabbing her and saying to hell with talking. “And I think your idea of a shrimp boil is a great follow-up to what we did tonight. We are a team. Input from both of us matters.”
“I think so, too. The time we’re spending here is helping.” She paused, her beautiful blue eyes glazing over with her attempt at looking inward. “I also vaguely recall making the painting I gave you. I can see it in my mind. It’s a bit fuzzy, but I can remember the colors I used, the brushes...”
Memories. He should be rejoicing. And he was glad for her, but he couldn’t stop the impending sense of doom. What would happen when she remembered all the mistakes he’d made? When she realized those were the questions he had avoided answering?
“It’s great that you’re starting to remember. I love your paintings. Your colors. I can’t wait for you to re-see our house in Tallahassee.”
He just prayed they could mend their marriage—their family—before the rest came rolling in. The bad parts. The possible divorce.
And God—that sucker punched him. The stakes were higher than ever. They had a child now and Porter felt he was getting to know Alaina all over again.
“What other kinds of things did you give me over the years? You know, aside from a beautiful beach house?” Leaning over the crib, she rearranged the baby blanket.
“The humanities, art specifically, is clearly important to you. In Tallahassee, you’re extremely active in the Art Association. And you wanted elementary school kids to be exposed to art. So I started a scholarship program in your name that brings artists into the classroom.”
“Porter, that’s so generous of you. I don’t know what to say.”
Her face flushed with such gratitude he felt guilty for keeping other facts from her. Facts about their marriage. But he was focused on the bigger picture, a long-term answer for them. Their future as a family. She would see that, if she suddenly remembered everything. She had to.
“You don’t have to thank me, Alaina. You deserve it. And the program has been a success. The kids really benefit from it.”
She looked at him them. Really and truly looked at him. He held her gaze, reading the warmth in her sky-blue eyes. The eyes of his wife and the eyes of a stranger at the same time.
Thomas began to stir, making little clucking noises. Poor guy. They were disturbing his much-needed sleep.
“I think we might be too loud.”
“I guess that’s our cue. We’ve got to let sleeping babies sleep.” He took the monitor so he could give it to the matronly night nurse. “Besides, there is one more surprise for you. But it’s back downstairs.”
* * *
Alaina followed him back down the stairs and into the family room. They didn’t bother with the actual light, but chose to sit beneath the glow of the Christmas tree.
“Close your eyes.” His whisper tickled her ear. She let her eyes flit shut. A box was placed gently in her lap.
“All right. You can open them. And the present.” Porter sat across from her, on the ground. Eyeing the box, she tore into the perfectly wrapped package. She lifted the flap.
And gasped in delight and breathed in the scent. Her soul sang.
Canvas paper. Acrylic paint. Oil paint. Chalk. Paintbrushes and sketching pencils. Everything she needed for a quick art set.
“Oh, Porter. You didn’t have to... I mean...you could have waited for Christmas...” Her voice hitched in her throat. Emotions pulsed. Her breathing sped up in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to pour out her emotions on the page.
He cupped her shoulders. “I’m a pretty simple guy. I want my family to have what they want. What they need. And I thought it would be a good outlet for you. I think this is the longest you’ve ever gone without some creative project.”
In the deepest part of her being, she was truly touched. He had been trying so hard to connect with her. To do things to make her feel more comfortable. Even if their life before the accident hadn’t been perfect, the man before her now was putting in a real effort.
“Porter, it’s perfect. Thank you.” She grabbed his hand, beginning to feel as if she knew the texture and feel of him. He tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Of course.”
“Can I ask another question?”
“Always.”
“How did we decide on the name Thomas?” It had been her father’s name. She hoped that had been the reason, but she didn’t trust much about her instincts these days. A pang of sorrow shot through her. Her father would never know her son. She took a shaky breath. His loss felt so recent.
Porter inched toward her. They were side by side. His shoulder brushed hers and she leaned into him. Breathed in the dark clove scent of his cologne.
“We chose the name for your father. It wasn’t much of a discussion. I never had a father and your father sounded wonderful even if I never had the honor of meeting the guy. It seemed right. Fitting.” He wrapped his arm around her, and she buried her face in his chest. The tightness of his arm on hers ramped up her heartbeat. He was beginning to feel like someone she could talk to. Trust was still an iffy idea, but she was moved by his actions today.
She couldn’t deny it. She was ready to take this to the next step. She craved intimacy with him. Her body ached for him, recognizing him on an instinctive level that went beyond memories.
“I know there must have been difficulties between us. Probably a strain because of the infertility,” she began to say. She had to finish before she lost her nerve. “And probably a bunch of other things that I don’t need to know right now...but I’m glad that we are trying to become a family now. And I was wondering if you could stay the night with me. Just sleeping. Nothing else. What do you think?”
His eyebrows shot upward. “I think I would be an idiot to say no.”
Seven (#ua6f07b32-bd1d-5b7d-b03a-32b3c2e9b10a)
Alaina couldn’t believe she’d asked to share a bed with her husband. Not sex. Just sleeping.
She stood in her bathroom, changing into the pajamas she’d chosen. Choosing them had been tough. What to wear to sleep with a man she was attracted to, but wasn’t ready to have sex with? If she wore a nightgown or a T-shirt, that would invite his hand to tunnel upward.
If she wore something silky, then that would feel like skin, sexy. But she didn’t want to be frumpy. She couldn’t help but feel vain in wanting to look attractive for her husband. So she’d opted for colors that flattered her. A pale pink tank top, cotton but thin. And a striped pair of shorts, so yes, their legs could brush.
Because she wanted this. Needed this, to be close to another human being. To her husband. Some part of her body knew they’d been together. Often. For a long time. There was a synchronicity in the way they moved through life that spoke of having done things together as a team, everyday things, sexual things.
When she’d first woken up from her coma, she’d felt as if the past five years hadn’t existed. That it had only been a few months since she’d broken off her relationship with Douglas and taken out a restraining order.
But during the week in the hospital and then the week at the beach house, she had gained a sense of distance from the past. These weeks had helped ease the initial tension that had made her feel stuck in another time.
Had she moved beyond all those awful feelings left over from Douglas? She must have, since she’d got married. Even with her memories of the past five years gone, her sense of Douglas felt further away than when she’d first woken up in the hospital. It was as if her body was moving forward to absorb the lost time even if her brain didn’t fill in the missing pieces.
Her past with Porter hadn’t returned, but her feelings for him were definitely growing. Strong. Real.
Powerful.
She looked down at her engagement ring and the wedding band. For the first time, she felt as if maybe, just maybe, they fit.
When Porter had given her those art supplies, she’d felt connected to him. She’d been given a link to her past with those supplies in hand. It made her want to find more links to the past, make more connections. It made her want this night with her husband.
She tugged on her pj’s, the soft cotton brushing against her breasts and sending a shiver of awareness through her.
This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought.
Deep breath in. One foot in front of the other. She could do this.
The bedroom was washed in warm yellow light from the oversize candle emblazoned with an anchor on the mahogany dresser. It cast flickers on the ship steering wheel that leaned from dresser to wall.
Matchy-matchy. Maybe she would try her hand at redecorating this place. Make it feel less like a page out of a catalog and more like a home for a family always on the go. But she’d only make those decisions with Porter. Joint decisions. Like the decisions they had made earlier today with Thomas’s gifts.
Porter slouched against the door frame, half looking at her. His black sweatpants hung low on his hips. A white T-shirt for a local Tallahassee baseball team enhanced his athletic frame. Damn, he was sexy.
And he was hers.
Alaina toyed with the band on her shorts. “This is a little awkward.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“Me, too, but I said it, and then I couldn’t take it back.”
“You don’t have to.”
She took a deep breath. “I think I do.” She yanked back the covers, then paused, inhaling hard. “I don’t even know what side of the bed I sleep on.”
“You’re fine,” he said.
“Are you saying that to be accommodating? Or is that the truth?”
“The truth. Your instincts are right. That’s your side of the bed.”
Something eased inside her. Maybe she needed to follow her instincts more with him.
Alaina climbed into bed and patted the space beside her. “Okay. Join me.”
He lay on top of the spread. “Done, as requested.”
“And I didn’t die.”
