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.”
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
