Page 14 of Shielding His Heart
“Good morning,” she says with a yawn and a delicate little sniff. “Something smells good.”
Be cool.“Breakfast,” I say and give myself a mental pat on the back.
Her eyes brighten, and she sits at the island in front of her plate. “This looks wonderful. Thank you. I’ll have to learn how to make you breakfast, too.”
I nod noncommittally and force myself to face away from her to clean up the dishes so I don’t freak her out by staring. I can’t believe I’d almost forgotten how fucking sexy she looks in the morning. All soft and sleep-rumpled.
She likes to linger over breakfast—her favorite meal of the day—catch up on chores around the house, and then take a shower and get ready for the day. It’s torture sitting here and not reaching for her, pulling her back to the bedroom to make her dirty enough to need a shower.
My cock grows hard in my shorts just imagining it, so I busy myself with anything and everything in the kitchen while I rein in my thoughts. The last thing Tana needs right now is me salivating over her. “What do you have planned to do today?” I ask her once I get control of myself.
She takes a drink of the coffee—black because I wasn’t certain how she’d take it now—and then winces. She sets it down while she adds hefty doses of cream and sugar. I focus on her cup as she brings it to her lips. This time it’s not because her mouth, full and soft, parts and gives me a glimpse of her pretty pink tongue. No, it’s because that’s how she’s always taken her coffee, too light and sweet to even taste like coffee anymore. I wonder if that’s significant. The doctor said matters of amnesia aren’t an exact science. If you’d asked me before, I would have said a person is a sum of their experiences. Medically, if they don’t have those experiences anymore, wouldn’t it make them a different person?
I give myself a mental shake and refill my mug. As much as I’d like to have answers, Tana doesn’t need me psychoanalyzing her every move. She has enough to deal with as it is without worrying more.
“I thought I might walk around town, see if I can’t familiarize myself with everything.”
My first reaction is to ask if she thinks that’s wise, but I hold my tongue. If I were in her shoes, I’d want to do the same thing. I can’t keep her under my watchful eye forever.
“That sounds like a good idea. You can use my bike if you want.”
She brightens. “Are you sure?”
I retrieve the keys from a pegboard beside the garage door and set them on the counter next to her finished plate. “My only condition is that you keep your new phone on you, just in case you get lost or something.”
“Of course,” she says and gets to her feet. “I can’t tha—”
“You don’t have to keep thanking me, Tana.”
She bounces on her toes. “Right. Well, I’m going to get ready. Don’t feel like you have to wait around on me all day. I’ll be fine, I promise, and I’ll call you if I get into any trouble.”
I give her a nod because what else can I do? I can’t keep her in a protective bubble forever; she’ll only grow to resent me. If I were in her shoes, I’d want the freedom to explore too.
But when she leaves an hour later, there’s a sour feeling in my stomach.
I’d much rather have her in my line of sight where I can make certain nothing will ever happen to her again.
CHAPTER8
TANA
Friday dawns, and I’m up with the sun. I’ve spent the past two days borrowing Alec’s bicycle to cruise around Battleboro, hoping something about the town will jog my memory, but nothing does. It’s like visiting a foreign country. Nothing about it is familiar.
It’s disheartening, but what did I expect? To have an epiphany the moment I got on my own? Ridiculous.
Now it’s time for Alec to take me to a place that’s important to him and before-me. I was up half the night trying to imagine where it could be. Our first date? The place he proposed? Where we got married? The hospital where the girls were born?
You’d think if I were going to remember anything, it would be here, at home, where I spent most of my time with my family, but so far, nada. Zilch. My brain may as well be filled with tumbleweeds.
If I don’t get out of bed right away, I’ll spend the morning moping, so I force myself to my feet and make the bed. That way, I’m not tempted to climb back in. Alec has made breakfast for the past three days, and when I find the kitchen empty, I get to work making him and the girls breakfast. It’s the least I can do to repay them for being so kind and generous.
I don’t change out of the soft and comfy pajama pants I found in the drawers, along with the Battleboro Fire & Rescue T-shirt, as I whip together cheese-topped scrambled eggs and thick sausage with fat juicy grapes. Paisley and Gemma arrive just as I’m plating everything up.
“Good morning,” I say cheerfully, and they climb onto the seats at the island. It doesn’t escape my notice that we gather in this room more than anywhere else.
“Mornin’,” Paisley says with a wide yawn.
“Grapes!” Gemma cheers and stuffs her mouth full.
