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“I will.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe I was too eager to believe what she said about being friends because I feel so isolated. There’s no one I know outside of our family.”
“You asked for phone numbers. I looked up ones for your old friends.” He held out a sheet of paper with scribbled names and numbers. It was a small gesture, but he hoped it would matter to her. Show her that he was committed to making their family work.
“Old friends? We’re not friends anymore?”
“You moved away from North Carolina years ago. They got married, too, and many of them relocated, as well.” He shrugged. “People lose touch with each other. It happens.”
She pressed her forehead. “Not that it really matters anyway, I guess. They would only know what I already recall. They won’t have much of anything to offer about the past five years other than maybe one of those ‘the world is rosy’ Christmas letters I must have sent out.” The hurt and frustration in her voice filled each syllable.
“Maybe there’s something they can offer. I want you to be happy. I’m trying to help you, Alaina.”
“And I’m not trying?” she snapped. “This is so very hard, not remembering even meeting you, yet trying to be a wife and a mother in a completely alien world.”
This wasn’t going the way he’d planned. He didn’t want her to feel more isolated, more alone. “I’m sorry. I know this is a million times tougher on you, and I want to help you.” He smoothed back her hair, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Can we start over? I’ve ordered brunch. You barely touched breakfast. Okay?”
“Sure, Porter, that’s probably a good idea. I’m sorry for lashing out at you like that. I know this has to be difficult for you, too. And I can see you’re truly trying to make things easier for me.” She pressed her fingers to her temple again as if her head was throbbing. “Did we used to argue like that a lot?”
Arguments?
He needed to tread warily as hell on this topic.
It was such a loaded question she’d asked. And a difficult one to answer.
Porter reached into the basket to give himself time to think, and hefted out an impressive spread. Brie. Herbed crackers. Fresh fruit, cut and quartered. Dark chocolate–covered nuts. All of her absolute favorites. Years ago, when things were easier between them, they had made brunches on the beach a ritual. It was also how they had spent their first date. A picnic on the beach.
“We exchanged words, and yes, we argued.” He glanced back at her, looking over the top of his sunglasses. “Our reconciliations were incredible.” He handed her a piece of chocolate.
She eyed him pensively for a few seconds before her shoulders relaxed and she took the truffle with a playful smile, blue eyes twinkling like the ocean reflecting the sun. “It’s not sexy to hit on a woman who just came out of a coma.”
“Why?” He pivoted on one knee, cupping the side of her face in one hand. “You’re beautiful.”
She didn’t pull away. “I’m pasty and exhausted.”
“That’s why this is the perfect place to rest.” He pulled a slice of cheese from the cutting board and popped it into her mouth before she could respond. “Now eat. You need to put back on the weight you lost.”
Her throat moved in a swallow before she said, “Was that an insult?”
“I just told you. You’ve always been beautiful to me.” He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “I’m more than willing to practice our reconciliation skills whenever you’re ready.”
She nipped the pad of his thumb and sent a jolt of arousal clean through him.
“Porter, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. So much.” She pressed a kiss into his work-roughened palm before moving his hand away. “But you’re right about me lacking energy and needing to refuel. And you were right about me needing to decompress. My emotions seem to swing from high to low without warning.”
“Damned by my own words,” he said, but glad for the reminder to put her needs first.
“And we should go back soon. The baby...”
“Is sleeping. With my mother watching and a nanny as backup.” He frowned, shaking his head. “Because I would never trust my mother as the sole caregiver of a child. Our child.”
“That’s sad.”
“I meant it as a joke.” Sorta.
“Really? Because I don’t think it’s funny. Is that why you have the nanny? Because you don’t trust me?”
He could hear her winding up again.
“I trust you with our child, unequivocally. Truly, I only want you to rest.” They needed the extra help right now until things returned to a normal routine. Because it had to return to normal. He refused to accept the possibility he could lose the family they had created for their son.
“You’re maxed out, as well.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and didn’t answer.
Didn’t quite look at her.
She ran her hand slowly along his shoulders. Her fingers lightly tracing circles down his back, reigniting his desire. She inched closer, so her head was inches from his. Her voice lowered, filling with concern. With understanding.
“And having your mother here stresses you more.”
He reached out, closing the distance between them. Hand to her cheek, he stroked her skin with his thumb. She sighed into his hand, her breath warm against him. Sexy and moist. He wanted her so damn much.
“Damn it, Alaina, you always did read me well, right from the start.”
Unable to resist a taste, just this one moment to connect with his wife again, Porter leaned in to kiss her.
Five (#ua6f07b32-bd1d-5b7d-b03a-32b3c2e9b10a)
The warmth of his lips sent an electric pulse through her, and she hungered for more. His hand wound into her hair. Alaina’s own body melted into his as she pressed herself against his hard, muscled chest.
The kiss deepened, mouths opening, hands stroking. Alaina’s desire became more urgent as she tasted a hint of raspberries on his tongue. He angled her closer, tongue exploring. Testing. Her fingers curled into the fine texture of his shirt. Everything about him drew her, from the way he looked at her to the way he made her smile. From the way he touched her to the care he gave their child.
Right now, she could easily envision how she’d fallen in love with this man and married him. She ached to remember the passionate experiences they’d shared, words they’d exchanged. Anything. And she hated that he had it all and she had nothing.
But she reveled in how hard he was working to win her over. That thrilled her and excited her—
From somewhere outside of this wonderful moment, she heard the distinctive hum of a speedboat skidding across the water. It snapped her to her senses. Reminded her of the fact she was kissing a man she didn’t really know, a man she didn’t fully trust, which complicated her feelings even more.
She pushed against his chest. Broke the kiss and connection before looking shyly at him.
She laughed self-consciously. “I shouldn’t have done that. You have an amnesiac wife and a new baby and here I am making a move on you.”
He burst out laughing, the sound rolling out on the ocean breeze. He laughed again, his head falling and broad shoulders shaking. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said, “God, woman, you turn me inside out. You always have.”
The words sent a shiver through her every bit as arousing as his kiss had been. There was emotion behind the words.
Had there been emotion in his touch, as well? She didn’t trust her judgment yet.
The wind blew her hair across her face and she swept it away again. “I’m sorry. I, um, didn’t mean to send mixed signals and mislead you—”
He traced her lips. “You turning me inside out has always been a good thing. We may have argued about a lot of issues, but we always connected on a physical level.” He tapped her lips a final time. “But I meant it when I said I wouldn’t pressure you to take this faster than you want to take it.”
“That’s good to know.” She shot to her feet restlessly, gathering up their lunch and putting it back in the basket. “The attraction between us is...problematic.”
An urgency to move filled her. They needed to get back to the baby, anyway. She gathered more remnants of the picnic, sliding the lids onto the various containers. But not before she snagged another piece of brie and popped it into her mouth. She reveled in the creamy texture, using the food-induced silence to steady herself.
“We were married for years,” he said into the silence. “Even if your brain doesn’t remember, I believe that on some level your body does. We’ll take things slowly until your mind catches up.” He offered her another piece of dark chocolate. Her fingertips gingerly brushed his as she took it. Another confusing jolt of desire burst through her.
“What if my mind doesn’t ever catch up?”
A devilish smile spread across his lips. “Then we’ll start over.”
“And what if I’m not the same woman I was?” In her chest, her heart pounded. Tension rose again, unmistakable.
“You are the woman I met five years ago.”
She left the hammock, placing the basket on the chair and stacking the containers inside. “But I’m not. I recall what I was like then. It feels like it just happened. But the past week, waking up and finding out that I’m married and a mother and I have this whole chunk of life I lived? That was a surprise. That’s changed me. Immeasurably.”
“Sure, of course it did.”
“You say that. But I don’t think you’re hearing me. Not really. You seem to want to pick up where we left off.”
On a certain level, she could understand that desire. On the logical level. But the emotional one—that was an entirely different scenario. How could she make him understand how overwhelming all of this was?
His jaw flexed and he left the hammock, helping her pack their meal, kneeling beside her. “I’m trying to help you remember, like you asked.”
“I don’t believe that. You want me to be the woman you married. To have our lives back the way they were.”
He snorted on a dark laugh. “You couldn’t be further from the truth.”
She went still, sagging back to sit on her butt in the sand. A chill settled in her stomach. “So things weren’t great between us.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“When I asked you if we argued a lot, you answered that we exchanged words and had great make-up sex.”
“We did.”
“But we argued. A lot.” She packed up the last few items into the basket. And shut it hard.
“Married couples do that.”
“We did.”
“Yes, Alaina, we did.” He clasped her shoulders. “We weren’t perfect. We still aren’t. But we have a chance here to build our family. We’ve been wanting this for a long time. Can you believe that much at least?”
He searched her face, scrutinized her expression. Cheeks ablaze, she tried to work out the harrowing emotions that knocked against each other inside of her like kids in bumper cars. He was asking for her trust. And she should trust him. They were married after all—but she had been close to having an affair, if Sage Harding was to be believed. What did all of that add up to?
Porter was practically a stranger to her. And his desire to have her put her faith in him frayed her nerves more. It didn’t make sense. The Porter she was meeting now had never given her a reason not to trust him. But deep down, something stopped her from giving herself over to him completely.
“Sure,” she said, knowing her answer was a brush-off and not able to come up with more than, “I believe you want to build a family.”
Dizziness hit. Her chest tightened. She felt a moment of panic over being confined even though he was just holding her. She knew the fear was unreasonable, but still, given what had happened in that past abusive relationship. she couldn’t help but feel nervous over how isolated she’d allowed herself to become. And how some might say Porter had taken away her resources by bringing her here where she wasn’t close to anyone, just as her old boyfriend had done before.
What did she really know about this man beyond that he was gentle with Thomas?
Her arms began to tingle. Alaina felt so boxed in by the weight of the past she remembered and the past she didn’t. Space. That’s what she needed. She shot up from their beach picnic, turned on her heel...
And ran.
The pounding of her feet hitting the ground reverberated in her mind. She hadn’t even noticed she had balled her hands into fists until she made it to the kitchen. The sticky sweet remains of a raspberry fell into the sink as she unclenched her fingers.
One deep breath. And then another.
There was no one to call. It was times like these that she desperately wished she could talk to her mother or father. They had always known what to say, how to help her parse out a situation. But they had died during her junior year of college. The memory of that moment, of that horrible phone call, was still fresh in her mind.
She’d give anything for her family to be intact.
Didn’t Thomas deserve the same? An intact, functional family? Parents who adored him? She already loved her son so much. And if she were being honest with herself, she wanted a family just as much as Porter seemed to. She wanted them to be a complete and intact unit.
More than her own happiness was at stake now.
And for the first time, she was more afraid of what might happen to her marriage if she remembered, than if she left those five years buried.
* * *
Relieved Thomas’s checkup had gone so well, Porter shut the door of the car behind his wife in the parking lot of the pediatrician’s office. This had been their first joint trip off the property since the family had left the hospital together last week. He glanced in the backseat, where Thomas smiled at him in his “Santa’s Little Helper” onesie.
The doctor had confirmed that Thomas was healing well. It would just take time. That seemed to be the theme of his life recently. Wait. Be patient.
It was damn hard to do sometimes. Porter strode around the car and positioned himself in the driver’s seat. On the one hand, he was grateful they were all still together. On the other hand, he felt as if things had stalled since their beach picnic. She had built a wall around herself and he didn’t understand why. Since that kiss, she’d been antsy, jumpy over being touched. Only when they were with Thomas were they both at ease. He didn’t doubt for an instant—she loved their son every bit as much as he did. That baby boy had them wrapped around his finger.
Porter had built multimillion-dollar homes around the country. He’d built a billion-dollar corporation on his own, with no help from his wealthy mother. And yet those accomplishments didn’t mean as much to him as coaxing a big belch from Thomas or laughing with Alaina as they struggled to work a tiny flying fist into a sleeper.
He wanted a family no matter what. People accused him of being determined at work, but that was nothing compared to how hard he would devote himself to making this come together. He wouldn’t give up what he was building in his life. It was a helluva lot more important than any structure put up by his corporation.
Porter started the car and adjusted the radio. “Would you like to pick up carryout on our way home or stop by a deli? The weather’s perfect to eat on the deck.”
Would she be interested in unwinding later in the hot tub? He didn’t know what to expect from her after she’d welcomed his kiss on the beach, and then proceeded to push him away.
“Porter, do you mind if we do something away from the beach house? I don’t want to be cooped up all day. It’s too nice of an afternoon to spend inside.” Alaina stared out the window as they drove past a team of reindeer made of bent willow branches in the courtyard of the doctor’s office.
A smile pulled at his lips. Perhaps this patience thing was paying off. Alaina hadn’t wanted to do anything outside of the house since they’d arrived there. This was a good sign. Maybe she was beginning to trust him.
“Of course. I have to swing by a job site for a final walk-through. Then the rest of the day is ours.” He reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“I don’t mind that at all. Besides, I’d like to see you in action.”
She flashed him a quick smile as she turned the radio to a Christmas station. Her head bopped along to a jazzy rendition of an old classic as they drove through town, where lighted white snowflakes hung from palm trees lining the village’s main thoroughfare.
