Читать книгу Playboys' Christmas Surprises: A Christmas Baby Surprise - Catherine Mann - Страница 14

Seven

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 tugged on her pj’s, the soft cotton brushing against her breasts and sending a shiver of awareness through her.

This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought.

Deep breath in. One foot in front of the other. She could do this.

The bedroom was washed in warm yellow light from the oversize candle emblazoned with an anchor on the mahogany dresser. It cast flickers on the ship steering wheel that leaned from dresser to wall.

Matchy-matchy. Maybe she would try her hand at redecorating this place. Make it feel less like a page out of a catalog and more like a home for a family always on the go. But she’d only make those decisions with Porter. Joint decisions. Like the decisions they had made earlier today with Thomas’s gifts.

Porter slouched against the door frame, half looking at her. His black sweatpants hung low on his hips. A white T-shirt for a local Tallahassee baseball team enhanced his athletic frame. Damn, he was sexy.

And he was hers.

Alaina toyed with the band on her shorts. “This is a little awkward.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“Me, too, but I said it, and then I couldn’t take it back.”

“You don’t have to.”

She took a deep breath. “I think I do.” She yanked back the covers, then paused, inhaling hard. “I don’t even know what side of the bed I sleep on.”

“You’re fine,” he said.

“Are you saying that to be accommodating? Or is that the truth?”

“The truth. Your instincts are right. That’s your side of the bed.”

Something eased inside her. Maybe she needed to follow her instincts more with him.

Alaina climbed into bed and patted the space beside her. “Okay. Join me.”

He lay on top of the spread. “Done, as requested.”

“And I didn’t die.”

“Wow, now that’s a turn-on.”

Laughing, she shoved him gently with both hands and felt the resistance in his muscles as her skin met his. He let out a low chuckle, clearly amused.

She sagged back into the fluffy feather pillow. He reclined on his side, propping his head on his hand.

Alaina picked at the down comforter. “What’s next? Our situation is so unconventional I don’t know what the rules are.”

“No rules as far as I’m concerned. We’re making this up as we go.”

Still, she wanted details, a sense of who’d they’d been. “How did we used to sleep? Did I sleep on your chest? Did we spoon? Me against you? You against me? Opposite sides of bed?”

“Why don’t we just see where we end up?” He held out an arm.

After only an instant’s hesitation, she rested her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. A sigh filled her. This. This was right. The feel of her body fitting against her husband’s.

Sleep pulled at her eyelids. It had been an exhausting day. Being here with Porter felt so damn right. Familiar. As if by muscle memory, her body curled around him, and she took comfort in the steady rise and fall of his broad chest.

Her eyelids fluttered shut. How was it possible to be entirely at ease and so on edge all at once?

* * *

Sleep was the furthest thing from Porter’s mind.

Then again, that was nothing new. Not since the accident. Since the endless blur of days and nights at the hospital. He’d taken to doing work in the odd hours of the evening. Using work as a way to keep his mind off the dire situation of his family.

But tonight, he was working for different reasons. He needed to keep himself occupied, to keep his hands off his wife. Tonight, concentration was difficult. Near impossible, with Alaina pressed against him.

It had been so damn long since he’d held her like this. Since the warmth of her body melted with his. He absently ran a hand through her hair. She drew in closer.

How had it been so long since they’d done this? Been in bed together, nestled against each other.

Too long.

Yes, he wanted to touch her, to make love to her, but he had to keep his goals in mind. For the first time in months, he felt as if they were working together. That they were in this for real. Not just him, but her, too. They were becoming a family. At least, he thought they were. His own experiences with family were shaky at best. And her family was gone. But this family—this family had a shot.

He returned his attention back to his tablet. Looked over some reports. Started to feel the pull of sleep.

But something was wrong. Alaina started to shake. She twisted away from him.

“Stop it.” Her voice was a murmur. But there was desperation in it.

“Let go. Just...just. No. Stop.” Her lovely face contorted with fear. She continued to thrash against an invisible assailant.

She was having a nightmare.

Gently, he shook her shoulder. “Alaina. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

She gasped in air. Her blue eyes suddenly alert. Scanning the room. Focusing on him. Breathing rapidly, her body twitchy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Oh, God, this plan isn’t working out like I meant it... I should just go.”

He clasped her arm. “Stay. Do you remember what you dreamed? Did you recall something from the past?”

“No, not really.” She sagged back against him. “I was just having a nightmare about Douglas, about that time with him. Things get muddled in dreams, feeling out of control and scared. Did I tell you about Douglas?”

“Your ex-boyfriend before you met me? Yes, you did.”

“What did I tell you?”

“Are you trying to pull information out of me? Have you forgotten parts of that time in your life, too?”

“I remember. He was verbally abusive. I didn’t see that for a long time. Then he hit me...” She shook her head. “And then I was done. I walked out.”

“That’s what you told me.” Once he’d learned about the jerk, Porter had made a point to keep tabs on the guy, make sure he honored that restraining order. “I’m sorry tonight is bringing back bad memories for you. This was supposed to be a positive experience.”

“It would have been worse if I’d been alone. Let’s try again.”

“I’d like that, too.” She maneuvered into the crook of his arm. Laid a hand on his chest. He pulled her tightly against him, his mind churning with ways to help her feel at ease, to know he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Her breathing slowed, falling into the rhythmic pattern of a deep sleep.

And even with the determination to keep her safe from threats like Douglas, and to keep his hands to himself until she was ready for more, Porter couldn’t deny he had no way to keep her safe from thoughts of the past.

* * *

The yellow-orange rays of dawn’s first light filtered in between the tulle-like curtains, nudging Alaina awake. She glanced over at her husband, whose eyes were still closed, heavy with sleep.

Quietly, she slid from bed and crept down the hall to check on the baby.

Thomas greeted her with a chubby-cheeked smile.

“Are you hungry, my love?” she cooed, picking him up out of bed. She sat with him in the rocker while he drank from the bottle. This was her favorite time of the day, just the two of them alone. She fed him and rocked him even though he was awake. She talked to him and sang to him. Time passed in a vacuum, a couple of hours sliding by in a beautiful haze.

This was everything she’d always hoped motherhood would be. A calmness descended on her as she sat with Thomas. And a desire to crawl back into bed with Porter. To memorize all of his features. To hold these moments close so they couldn’t slip away like the others.

Maybe it was time to start drawing again. A family portrait. She’d start with Porter. Capture the angles of his face, the strength in his chest. And the smile lines in his face. And somehow, maybe their years together would come rushing back as she revisited him.

After finishing with Thomas, she set him down for a nap. Kissed his forehead. Filled with love for the making of her little family. She’d sketch him next.

On tiptoe, she made her way downstairs, grabbed her new sketchbook and pencils and crawled back into bed. Sunlight streamed over Porter’s face.

She began to outline him. Rough strokes on paper. She worked first on his face. She started to lose herself in the drawing, the world ebbing away from her.

Until a knock sounded from behind her. Alaina practically leaped out of her skin.

“Sleeping Beauty’s still asleep, I see.” Her mother-in-law called from the door, a diamond-and-silver snowflake broach pinned to the collar of her shirt. Porter let out a loud snore and turned on his side.

“Have breakfast with me? I could use some toast. And girl time.” She motioned for Alaina to follow her down the hall.

“Sounds great. I am a bit hungry myself.” Alaina stacked her sketchbook and pencils on the bedside table. If she stayed here much longer, she might not be able to resist temptation. She needed some space to gather her thoughts—and her mother-in-law might well have insights that could help her decide how to move forward in the marriage.

She hurried after Courtney into the hallway toward the back stairway leading to the kitchen.

When she’d caught up to her mother-in-law, Courtney glanced over her shoulder on her way down the steps. “I’ve never seen you draw before. You know, you get the same look on your face as Porter does when he is working on a building design.”

“I do?”

She nodded, clasping the polished steel railing. “Porter’s always been a hands-on guy. Started back in middle school. He was always building things. Once, he built a table for me for Christmas. He was sixteen then. Said he’d loved the sweat equity of the project. The ability to create something from nothing. I guess that’s a bit like art, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it’s actually a similar process. Built not bought. I think that’s why this house feels foreign to me. It’s cookie cutter decor in a lot of ways other than some of the artwork. I’ll take some imperfections in my decorations if it’s coming from scratch.”

“You sound like him. When he built that table, I think that’s when he decided he didn’t need me anymore.” Courtney gave a slight laugh. But the sound was tinged with sadness.

They turned the corner into the kitchen and sat on the bar stools facing a view of the water, where a holiday boat parade was organizing. Festively decorated boats of all sizes congregated. A blow-up Santa in a bathing suit sat on the deck of one, but most of the vessels were outfitted more simply with green garland boughs.

“I’m sure he still needed you then. You helped shape him into the person he is today.” A person she was still trying to understand. To relearn.

Her mother-in-law’s eyebrows arched as she popped two slices of bread in the toaster. “Sometimes I wonder. He’s built every house he’s lived in as an adult. Sometimes I’m surprised he didn’t build the yacht, too.”

Alaina said, “Whoa, wait. We own one of those yachts?”

“You do. Usually my son has me stay out there rather than in the house, which, quite frankly, is an amazing spin on a mother-in-law suite. But still. We’ve always had troubles, my son and I.”

Her mother-in-law straightened the rings on her fingers before she continued. “You know, I was madly in love with Porter’s father. I was young—and the whole world seemed open to me when we were together. But he had other dreams. Other desires. He left shortly after Porter was born.”

“I’m sure that was difficult. Raising Porter alone and working so much.”

“Would you like the truth, Alaina? I was—and still am—brilliant in the courtroom. I can dissect a case like nobody’s business. But motherhood? That never came to me. Not like it does to you.”

Alaina nodded sympathetically, but didn’t say anything. She knew Courtney had her quirks, but she never doubted that the woman loved her son. Family was just complicated. Alaina felt as if she knew that better than anyone. Funny what a few weeks in a coma had done for her perspective.

Porter was a man whom she was only just beginning to understand. But the tension between her husband and mother-in-law was starting to make sense to her. Courtney was all about buying premade items. It’s why she’d insisted on the night nurse tending to Thomas.

But Porter—Porter was a man intent on creation. On actively building. He’d built a construction empire the same way he’d built that table. To prove he could take scraps and turn them into something usable. He’d built his life from the ground up, even though he could have easily used his mother’s fortune. He hadn’t backed down from the work it required.

And what about her? Alaina had spent the past two weeks in the haze of amnesia. Afraid of what she’d find if she pressed too hard. But Porter was aware of their history. Aware of their struggles. And he was still dedicated to their family. Maybe she needed to become aware, too.

And that meant digging around in the dirt a bit. And possibly talking to Sage.

As Alaina poured two cups of coffee in holiday mugs painted with angels, she made up her mind. Today was a day for exploring. And she would start with all the pieces of her past—even the uncomfortable ones. The time had come to reconstruct her life.

Starting with finding out more about how and why they’d purchased that yacht when she could have sworn such flashy purchases weren’t her style.