Playboys' Christmas Surprises. Catherine MannЧитать онлайн книгу.
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. 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.
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