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