Alaina had wondered more than once if Porter had been hiding something from her. She just hadn’t considered that whatever he might be hiding was her fault.
* * *
Sunglasses shielding his eyes from the late-morning sun, Porter jogged down the last step cut into the bluff, his deck shoes hitting sand. He’d expected to find his wife napping in the hammock. Not chatting with their gossipy neighbor. Hell, he’d even checked with the staff to make sure the Hardings wouldn’t be here for Christmas.
Apparently, staff intel was wrong.
Sage Harding fanned a wave at him as she slid her own sunglasses back on her face and sashayed through the sea oats and around a bluff back to her white mansion on stilts.
Between his mother and Sage, he couldn’t catch a break. Although a voice in the back of his mind persisted that he didn’t deserve one. He was deliberately keeping parts of their past from his wife. He tamped down that voice, not just for his own reasons but for her sake, as well. The doctor had said not to push her, but rather to let her recover the missing years on her own.
All the CT scans and MRI scans hadn’t shown any brain damage, and yet her coma had persisted. The doc had said her mind was most likely protecting herself from something she wasn’t ready to deal with. Again that voice piped up that maybe she didn’t want to recall how close they’d been to signing the divorce papers their lawyers had drawn up. That she wanted this second chance at creating a family every bit as much as he did.
His pace quickened as he approached. He could see that there was something sparking beneath the surface of her eyes. It was in the way she cocked her head to the side and studied him up and down. A question in her expression. A curiosity. One he wanted to answer.
Time was limited now as their son napped—and the holidays were a brief interlude, too. Soon, they would have to return home. She would find out all that he’d been keeping from her and all hell could break loose. He intended to use this time with her, away from all that, wisely.
Porter placed the picnic basket and insulated bag on the Adirondack chair so there would be nowhere to sit except beside his wife. “You’ll want to stay clear of Sage Harding.”
“Sage?” Alaina shifted, the roped hammock swaying beneath her. “Why on earth should I avoid her?”
“Because she’s not as genuine as she tries to appear. She’s cultivating wealthy friends to fund her husband’s run for the US Senate. Plain and simple, she uses people.”
Alaina slowly nodded as if she was unsure how to respond. As if she didn’t trust his word. Ouch.
“Okay. That’s sad to hear, that someone’s using others.”
“You’re not sure if you believe me about Sage’s motivations for coming over?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. But people can have different impressions of someone.”
A diplomatic answer. But one that reminded him he still had to earn her trust. Well, re-earn. “Fair enough. It’s your judgment call to make. Just promise me you’ll be careful around her.”
“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.
