had told him that he and Alaina should take time to cement their relationship. He hadn’t given much thought to that—until now.
“How long had we known each other?” Her eyes searched his. He could feel her trying to grasp hold of the past. Of who they were.
“We met a year prior. We were engaged for four months of that.”
She slid over on the bench and motioned for him to sit next to her. He sat sideways so he could look at her directly.
“Why the rush?”
“We loved each other, knew it was right. Why wait?”
“I wasn’t pregnant?”
“No, you weren’t. We were never able to conceive.”
It had been no one’s fault. And they had Thomas now. They had taken in a child who desperately needed a home and stability. And somehow, that seemed to soften the animosity they had felt. They’d agreed to a temporary truce and now he planned to make them a permanent family.
“I hate being dependent on you for all my memories.” Her eyes were shining with frustration. But, Porter realized, the frustration wasn’t entirely directed at him.
He gently lifted a wisp of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Then tell me what your dream wedding day would be like and that will be our wedding memory.”
Her eyes went whimsical, a smile pushing dimples into her cheeks. “I would want to get married at a museum, or some historic site on the grounds, but with a preacher there.”
Porter nodded to encourage her. “What else?”
“I think I would want a vintage gown and you in an old-school tuxedo, tails perhaps. And if I could dream big—sky’s the limit—I would want flowers, so many flowers, all different colors. Southern flowers, magnolias and azaleas, too.”
A long sigh escaped her lips, and she turned in her seat to face him.
“And the reception?”
“A band, so people could enjoy themselves. A buffet meal so people could eat or dance or talk, whatever they wish. I would want there to be children there, activities and a tent where they could play, sitters on hand. How does all of that sound?”
“Very close to the wedding we planned.” He took her hand in his and ran his thumb over her silk-smooth palm.
“Planned?”
He shrugged. “My mother put in her two cents, your friends put in theirs. Weddings get complicated and we both let them have their way to get things moving so we could start our life together. To be truthful, I just remember you and how beautiful you looked and how damn lucky I was to have convinced you to marry me.”
More memories hit him, about how later she’d come to resent not having stood her ground to have the wedding of her dreams. Her insistence that her style and wishes got pushed aside by his mother and wedding planners.
She inched toward him on the bench, resting a hand on his knee. Her touch made his blood surge hot beneath his skin. Damn. He wanted to take her in his arms. Wanted to taste her kiss. To taste her—over and over until they both stopped thinking and remembering.
“That’s lovely, what you just said and the way you described the feelings. I wish I recalled even a part of that.” The murmur leaped from her lips as her eyes searched his face. There was intrigue there, sure. Attraction, definitely.
“You will. Someday.”
Another deep sigh. “And if I don’t?”
“Then we’ll keep taking things a day at a time and looking to the future. Marriage isn’t perfect, Alaina. You’ve forgotten the arguments and disagreements, too. So perhaps it’s a trade-off, getting to start over with a clean slate.”
Alaina shook her head, but didn’t pull away. Her fingers continued to trace light circles on his knee. “Amnesia is a horrible illness, not some trade-off. I would gratefully welcome one bad memory now from those years, just to open the door. To see our life together.”
“What if that one memory made you stop loving me because you couldn’t recall the rest?”
He wanted this fresh start for their family so badly. He needed it down to his core. And he was afraid that if she recalled any of the past year, she’d pack up and be out of his life the way she’d intended to do before the accident.
“I don’t mean to be harsh, but I can’t remember falling in love with you. So how is that a point?”
He threw her a playful wink. “I guess I’ll just have to help you fall in love with me again.”
She didn’t smile back, her gaze narrowing with intensity. “So do you still love me?”
“Of course I do,” he said automatically because that’s what she needed to hear.
But from the look in her eyes, he could tell that on some level, behind the amnesia, she sensed the truth.
This wasn’t about loving or not loving each other. After all, they hadn’t spoken those words to each other in over a year. This second chance was about finally building the family he’d always wanted and doing whatever it took to make that happen.
* * *
Alaina leaned against the door frame of Porter’s home office, making the most of the moment to study him unobserved. Much like as he’d watched her last night in the nursery. She’d been more moved by the way he’d looked at her, almost as if he was thinking the words he never spoke. Words about loving her.
Why was it so important to hear that from him when she didn’t know how she felt about him? When she couldn’t remember meeting him, marrying him—falling for him? And some men weren’t overly demonstrative.
What about him?
She searched for clues as she watched him work at his computer, seated behind an oversize desk. He wore casual clothes, jeans and a polo shirt, his watch the only cue to his wealth. She liked that about him, how if she’d met him on the street she wouldn’t have guessed he had all these houses—and a closet as big as some apartments.
She also liked the artwork on the wall behind him. Nice choice. It fit him more than a lot of things in this elaborate vacation place. She wondered if she’d picked it out for him.
He wore thick black-framed glasses as he typed, something she hadn’t noticed before. There was so much about him she didn’t know. So much to learn and on the one hand, some would say she had all the time in the world. But she felt an urgency to settle her life, for Thomas’s sake.
And she couldn’t ignore how much it touched her heart to see her son snoozing in a bassinet beside Porter’s leather office chair. That he’d made arrangements to watch the baby while working spoke volumes. She could see that Porter wanted to be a good father, that he wanted to be active in his son’s upbringing. She wanted to trust her impressions of him and accept that she had an amazing life. She wanted to quit worrying about the past she couldn’t remember.
And yet
