Forgotten Lullaby. Rita Herron

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СКАЧАТЬ smiled and visibly relaxed. “That’s the same thing you said the first time we drove down this street.”

      A ray of hope darted through Emma. Maybe the minute she saw her home, her past would all come rushing back.

      “We looked at that ranch,” Grant said, pointing to a redbrick house with green shutters. “But the wallpaper in the kitchen was hideous. Black with these huge orange flowers.”

      “That sounds awful.” Her smile faded, bitterness invading. She couldn’t recall how she’d decorated her own kitchen. She liked yellow and rose and green—had she used those colors?

      Grant seemed to notice her sudden change of mood, because he reached for her hand and held it. She studied his guarded features and wondered if they were close, if they shared a special bond, the sort she’d always dreamed of sharing with someone. He smelled wonderful, all musky but fresh as if he’d recently showered and put on aftershave. His hand felt warm and big enveloping hers, and Emma took comfort in his presence. He seemed like a kind man. After all, she wouldn’t have married him if he hadn’t been, would she?

      “The Porters live in that house,” Grant said, pointing out a gray two-story with a fenced-in yard. “His wife is expecting any day now.”

      “That’s nice,” Emma said. “Do we know them very well? Are we friends?”

      Grant sighed. “Not really. You wanted to invite them for dinner last week.”

      “But we didn’t?”

      “No, I had to work late.”

      Emma nodded, wondering at his frown. At least she hadn’t married a bum. Grant sounded like an ambitious man.

      “How did we meet? Through your job somehow?”

      He shook his head. “No, we met in college. Kate attended UNC, where I went, and you came up to visit her one weekend. We met at a party after a football game.”

      “Really? Did we date right away?”

      A smile curved Grant’s mouth. “You really have forgotten. Sweetheart, you chased me shamelessly.”

      “What?” Emma’s eyes widened. “I…I did?”

      Grant laughed softly, a husky sound that warmed her and helped drain some of the tension from her knotted muscles. “You know, perhaps there is an upside to this,” he said in a mischievous voice. “You’ve forgotten all the foolish things I did to win you. I could tell you that you fawned all over me, and you wouldn’t know any differently.”

      Emma shivered at the sexiness radiating from his teasing tone. “I may not remember, but I do know I didn’t fawn all over you. I wouldn’t fawn all over anyone.”

      Grant’s eyes twinkled as he squeezed her hand. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

      Emma smiled and studied his long tanned fingers, her own hands clammy with perspiration. He seemed to sense her confusion and released her hand. “So tell me the truth—did I really chase you?”

      Grant’s tone turned serious again. “Hardly, sweetheart. It was the other way around. And I’d rather not remember those days.”

      This time Emma laughed. And she couldn’t help the faint stirring of her pulse, the tingle that raced through her body at the humility she saw in his eyes. The passion lurking in the dark blue depths excited and frightened her at the same time.

      When he’d comforted her in the hospital, a subtle attraction had strummed through her. She’d been drawn to him, relieved he’d stayed with her. His deep husky voice had called to her when she was in that coma, a heady baritone that had pleaded with her to wake up, not to leave him. He’d saved her life. Now that she knew the voice belonged to her husband, she wanted to remember him. But his face, his smile, his voice—it felt as if she was meeting him for the very first time.

      They passed a group of teenagers lounging by a car, the radio blasting. She clung to it as a safe topic. “It looks like they’re having fun.”

      “The little redhead, Darlene, offered to baby-sit sometime.”

      Questions once again swirled through Emma’s mind. She didn’t recognize these people, but they would know her. And what about her baby? Could she be a good mother to a child she didn’t remember? “Has she ever sat for us?”

      Grant’s silence lingered a fraction too long for comfort, and Emma raised an eyebrow. “Grant, did I say something wrong?”

      “No,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “We haven’t gotten out much since Carly was born.”

      “I guess that’s pretty normal,” Emma said, although at the moment she had no idea what constituted normal.

      Finally Grant slowed in front of a blue Victorian house with white-lattice trim. “That has to be our house. I can’t believe it. I used to dream about a house like this when I was little.”

      Grant smiled hopefully and veered the car into the driveway. A neatly weeded flower bed bordered the front of the house. She could easily imagine it with tulips and petunias in the spring. Three ferns hung from the front stoop, and clipped monkey grass formed a border along the sidewalk to the wraparound porch. Blue jays fluttered down and nibbled at birdseed from a tall stone bird feeder in the center of the yard.

      “It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see the inside.”

      “It’s not all fixed up yet,” Grant said, sounding apologetic again.

      “I’m sure it’s fine, Grant.”

      “We still have some of the furniture we had when we were first married.” Grant shrugged. “We planned to buy a new bedroom suite, but, well…”

      Bedroom furniture? Emma paused, gripping the door handle, her pulse accelerating.

      Grant rambled on as if he recognized the awkward moment and wanted to smooth it over. Instead, he made it worse. “I mean there’s plenty of room, but the furniture’s not new.”

      “It’s okay, Grant.” Emma took pity on him. Sensing his anxiety, she relaxed, realizing there would be lots of uncomfortable moments ahead of them. She should have asked about the sleeping arrangements before she agreed to move home with him. Surely he didn’t expect her to sleep with him.

      “We’ll redo it sometime,” Grant said. “Maybe I’ll start a couple of projects right away.”

      Emma pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t need everything perfect, Grant.” Just my memory back would do.

      And a separate bedroom for now.

      Grant’s silent gaze almost unnerved her.

      “What is it?” she whispered.

      “You told me that the day we moved in, too.” A smile crinkled his face, and the cleft in his chin became more pronounced as his mouth widened. He had beautiful teeth, white and straight.

      She returned his smile, searching deep inside for courage. “Well, let me go take a look.” Her strained СКАЧАТЬ