by JoAnn Durgin
“No?” She sounded confused and hopeful all at once.
The last time he said No like that, she moved out of the house the next morning. Better say something quick. “I’m walking you to the door. What kind of husba . . . date would I be if I didn’t escort a beautiful lady to her door?”
“Not just yet.” She put her hand on his arm. “Thanks for tonight, Marc. I had a great time.” Her touch sent electric currents coursing through him.
“It was fun reliving those memories, telling you about them, laughing with you, being with you,” he said, turning to face her. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, doing anything else tonight.” The expression on her face made him want to take her home so bad he ached all over again.
“You’re pretty hard to resist when you say things like that,” she said.
And you’re hard to resist when you look at me like that. He cleared his throat and straightened in the seat. “Then why resist?” Even though he joked, he meant it. Perhaps that was unfair, and he hated the tinge of irritation in his tone.
She eyed him, biting her lower lip, not saying anything for a moment—a lengthy, pregnant pause. “There’s a part of me that wants to move back into the house with you and resume our relationship—in every way.” The way she looked at him, there was no mistaking her meaning. “But, like you said, I have to know it as well as feel it.” Natalie hesitated and lowered her voice. “You’re right. This is about so much more than the physical aspects.” She looked at him with wide eyes, and appeared surprised to see his smile. “Did I say something amusing?” She sounded slightly wounded.
“No, not at all.” Although he rather regretted his whole noble know it, feel it, speech. Taking both her hands, Marc caressed her with his eyes. “I was only talking about a good night kiss, and nothing more, as hard as that might be to believe.” Her cheeks bloomed with color and a grin tugged at the corners of that luscious mouth. How he wanted to taste those lips again.
“Well then, that’s no problem.” He wasn’t laughing as Natalie took hold of his suit coat lapels and tugged him close to plant a thorough, lingering kiss on his waiting, receptive lips. Her kiss was as hungry as his own, her passion one of the many things he adored. She’d surprised him in amazing ways, and he missed their intimacy more than ever Memories flooded his mind, threatening to overwhelm him.
“That was . . . well, that was an unexpected fire starter.” Marc reluctantly broke free from her embrace, massaging his neck and looking at her askance. That kiss was great, but it would be difficult to forget when he crawled into bed tonight—alone.
“Sorry,” she said, but she didn’t look or sound the least bit apologetic. “This is such new territory, isn’t it? I don’t mean to tease you. I hope you know that.”
“We’ll just have to keep fumbling our way, Natalie, but I think we’re definitely on the right track. Let me walk you to the door.” Placing her hand in his as he helped her from the car, she gave him a tentative smile he couldn’t decipher. Affection? Definitely. But maybe a little bit of fear of the unknown. She is pregnant, after all. With your child. His eyes moved down to her stomach. “Are you having any morning sickness? I understand it can be pretty bad sometimes.”
She nodded. “Just a little queasy some mornings. Overall, it hasn’t been too bad. Crackers help. And lots of dry toast.”
“Do you need me to stock anything for you? Soda crackers? Melba toast? Ice cream? Pickles?” Me?
She laughed. “I haven’t had any peculiar cravings yet, but I’ll let you know.”
I want you to have cravings for your husband. “I want to know what you’re feeling.” He captured her gaze and they stared at one another for several long seconds. “I imagine it’s hard for you in some respects, isn’t it?”
Natalie’s glance told him she was surprised by his sensitivity. “In some ways, yes. I know the Lord has a plan, and He’ll help me—help us—through the amnesia and the pregnancy.” She blew out a prolonged sigh. “It’s hard to explain, but I know I have the love of the Lord in my heart.” She gave him a look that tugged at his gut. “I can feel it. Some things, I guess you don’t forget.”
Marc nodded. “I think the things of the Lord are sometimes unexplainable. They just are. We just have to trust He always knows what He’s doing and wants the best for us.” He wanted to somehow lessen the tension so she’d kiss him again. His one-track mind had taken over. They stood together on the front porch, facing one another. It was awkward, yet sweet in an odd way. It brought to mind his first date. He’d stood on Alicia Plummer’s front porch—just as he stood with Natalie now—shuffling his feet, an awkward fifteen-year-old shoving his hands deep in his pockets, wondering whether to try and kiss the girl good night. While thankful those days were long gone, and he’d gained a certain amount of finesse with women, he felt equally uncertain now—about his future with his own wife. “Your roommates must find our situation interesting.”
“You could say that. For the record, they think I’m crazy.”
“In what way?”
She tilted her head, her lips curving into a coy grin. “Like I said, you’re a smart man. Surely you can guess without me having to spell it out.”
“Spill it. You can’t make a statement like that and not tell all.” He had an idea what she meant, but—call him egotistical—he wanted to hear it from her. That kiss in the car was a prologue. If he didn’t feel her lips on his again soon, he’d burst with frustration. He took a step closer.
She laughed again. He loved the sound, so genuine and totally lacking in pretense. “Let’s just say your charms are obvious. Even though they like the extra rent money, my roommates can’t understand why I’m living here and not with you at the house.”
“Is that your polite way of telling me I’m hot?”
“It’s at least their perception,” she said, grinning. “They’d kill me for admitting as much to you.”
“What do you think?” He took one step closer. “Your opinion is the only one I want.”
“Well, if you don’t know after that whopper of a kiss I just planted on you in the car . . .”
Marc bundled her in his arms. Leaning close, he glimpsed the need in her eyes. This kiss was slow and tender. She tasted familiar, sensual. Her silky hair brushed against his fingers as he anchored one hand behind her neck, drawing her closer. Her skin was warm, her lips soft. He smiled against her lips when she took the initiative to deepen the kiss. It would be hard to stop, but he lost himself in the pure enjoyment of holding her in his arms, the feel of her, locked in a passionate embrace. How he’d missed her. The rest of the world could simply fade away.
“Marc,” Natalie breathed, finally pulling out of the kiss. Her breathing was staggered, and he detected the obvious longing in her voice.
He forced calming breaths. “Hang on. I’m still trying to catch my breath.” He smiled as she put a gentle hand on his chest, near his heart. Surely she could feel how fast it was pumping. Desire coursed through him, making his head spin. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to come home with him, back to their bed. Even if only to sleep, he needed her beside him.
His hold on her tightened as he dared to move his hands further south on her hips. If he thought she wouldn’t be offended, he’d move his hands to her belly, see if there was the slightest swelling beneath that fabulous blue dress. Curve his hand over any baby bump that might be forming. The thought thrilled him. It was his child, after all, so didn’t he have every right? But, even though she was his wife, he couldn’t touch her that intimately. Not yet. He shouldn’t push her.
Natalie pulled away, interrupting wishful thoughts. She avoided his eye contact and looked away awkwardly. “Thanks for a lovely evening.” With a final kiss on his cheek, she hurried inside the house and closed the door.
All he could do was stand on the doorstep and stare, praying he hadn’t offended her. Maybe she didn’t trust herself and needed to make an abrupt getaway for both their sakes? T
hey’d made great headway, but it was time for another self-coaching moment. And a cold shower. Tonight he’d made significant progress in winning back her affections, if not her heart. It had been fun, spending time with her like it was their first date. But it was so much more. His wife’s insights and depth of compassion had shown through, loud and clear. He smiled as he climbed back into the Lexus, replaying the evening in his mind. The shy glances, the whispered comments, the laughter, the great food—with nary an anchovy in sight. Not to mention those killer kisses couldn’t lie. The strong physical attraction between them was more powerful than ever.
As he climbed under the sheets a couple of hours later, Marc grinned at the sight of Elwood on his back, legs in the air, watching from the floor. Laughing, he tapped the bed, and the mutt wasted no time jumping up beside him. Nudging aside his arm, the dog laid his head on his chest and gave him the head tilt maneuver accompanied by the please rub my stomach look. Elwood had mastered it. This dog was good for his sanity, his soul. If only his canine friend could talk, he’d spill some pretty juicy stuff. Elwood snuggled closer and half sprawled across his chest as he scratched behind the dog’s ears. The warm, steady rhythm of another heart beating next to his felt great. “You’re not exactly what I was hoping for, but you’ll do, buddy.” The Lord had given him exactly what he’d asked: a memorable good night kiss from his gorgeous wife.
If he hadn’t already been in love with her, he would have been after the date they’d just shared. Marc buried his head in his pillow and released a low moan. After one great date, he couldn’t expect Natalie to fall into his arms and allow him to carry her home and up the stairs to Wonderland. He was beginning to think it might be more like Neverland.
“I miss you, Natalie,” he murmured, turning on one elbow, face-to-face with Elwood. “I hope you miss me, too.” The dog shifted and stretched before sliding down to the pillow beside him. Natalie’s pillow—just the way she’d left it. He hadn’t been able to wash it because it smelled like Natalie. Still did, even after all these months. Elwood didn’t seem to mind. Maybe in his doggie mind, it reminded him of his mistress, and gave him some kind of comfort, too.
Oh, man. He was going mental and needed some sleep. At least for now, he could rest, content in the small victories.
Chapter 16
A few days later, Marc sat in Dr. Fontaine’s office. He hesitated, gathering his thoughts. “I feel as though we’re at an impasse of sorts. Kind of like a plateau. We’ve reached a certain point in reclaiming our relationship, but now we’re stalled.” Sure, they’d shared some great kisses on their date, but he wasn’t sure when he’d see her again, much less kiss her. Maybe the reminder of what he’d been missing made him more impatient. If too much time passed, would he lose the ground he’d recently gained? He wouldn’t trade their date at Peppino’s, and for more reasons than the physical reconnection.
“You’re not sure what to do next, how to get past the plateau.”
“That’s right.” He loved how this guy had a propensity for stating the obvious.
“You should consider taking a break from Natalie, from the two of you.” Marc opened his mouth to protest, and Dr. Fontaine raised his hand. “Hear me out. It’s understandable you’ve given yourself a timeline because of the baby, but this is a situation where you can’t force affection, can’t force memories.” He regained his eye contact. “You can’t force Natalie to fall in love with you again, at least not overnight.”
He eyed the doctor before lowering his head, staring blindly at the hardwood floors partially covered with a high-quality Persian rug. “So, what do I do?”
“You’re scheduled to go to Montana together soon, correct?”
Marc nodded. What in the world did he mean by a break? How could that possibly help?
“What I suggest is not scheduling so much time with Natalie before you leave.”
“Why? What purpose would that serve?” How could he do that? Why would he even want to? It had to be one of the psychologist’s less-inspired suggestions.
“You need time to grieve.”
“Grieve? No one’s died.” All the fancy degrees from institutions of higher learning didn’t mean this man was right.
Dr. Fontaine sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I’m talking about time to grieve for your marriage, Marc. For what you’ve lost.”
Sadness overcame him. Turning his head, he didn’t want the doctor to see his pain. “Since Natalie’s fall, I’ve had a long time to grieve.”
“I don’t think you have. You’ve been in shock, going through the motions. Your head’s still trying to wrap itself around what happened to her, and to you, in dealing with the daily ramifications of the amnesia and how it’s impacted your relationship. What I’m talking about is stepping back and taking a good, hard look at where you’ve been, where you’re at now, and where you want to see this relationship ultimately go.” He sat up straighter. “And then figure out how to get there.”
“Where I want it to go? Natalie’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m not giving her—giving us—up without a major battle. We’ve made some good headway in reconnecting as a couple in the last few weeks, and I want to build on that foundation, not stall it—or tear it down completely.
“I’m not saying it’s a battle. That’s your perception. I’m merely suggesting this as a way to strengthen your relationship.”
Marc shook his head. “Forgive me, but I’m not following. How can staying away from Natalie strengthen our relationship?”
“By consciously giving her space, perhaps it will have the opposite effect by reminding her how much she misses you. From everything you’ve told me, you’re reconnecting on a daily basis and seeing her as much as possible. I’m not saying not to call her, e-mail or share any communication whatsoever. I’m merely suggesting that you don’t take her to dinner, go to a movie or any other kind of special date until you leave for Montana. If you need to contact her, stick to the basics like planning your trip. Nothing more.” Dr. Fontaine trained his eyes on him, holding them steady. “I realize how hard it’ll be, but it’s only for a short time. Don’t worry about a timeline, Marc. Step back and be patient.”
“Is this advice based on the old theory that absence makes the heart grow fonder?”
The doctor allowed a smile to crack through his austerity. “It’s been known to work for centuries, but that’s not why I suggest it. Simply put, you need time, just as Natalie does. I want you to give yourself the luxury of that time. You’re going to be together for two solid weeks in Montana, and no one knows what that experience will bring. Perhaps a little break before you leave will prove beneficial.”
Marc digested the thought. “Maybe you’re right. Only the Lord knows what’ll happen in Montana.” Sensing his reference to the Lord might make the psychologist uncomfortable, he shrugged. “I’m not going to apologize for my faith.”
“No one’s asking you to apologize.” The words were spoken with equal conviction. “I understand some things about Christianity. Even though I don’t share your faith in a risen Savior, I can appreciate its meaning in your life. If anything, it makes you a stronger man, and a better husband to Natalie.”
“I only pray that’s true.”
~~**~~
Not seeing Natalie proved difficult although Marc recognized Dr. Fontaine made a valid point. He hoped to spend a lot of time with her in Montana—in-between all the chores Sam threw his way. The hard labor might prove therapeutic and be a welcome physical release to relieve the stress of the last few months. As it was, the guys at his fitness club stared at him in wonder as he bench-pressed, cycled and pushed himself to the limit. They speculated he was training for a marathon. Let them think what they wanted: in a way, he was in the race of his life. No question about it: he’d win this one.
So many times, he picked up the phone or started an e-mail to his wife, only to pause and stop. If he communicated with her, he’d end up asking her to do something,
desperate for her company. Instead, he poured his energies into his other passion—running his ad agency.
Trevor knocked and poked his head around the corner of his office well past the dinner hour one evening. “It’s late, even for you, boss. Anything going on I should know about?”
Marc beckoned him in. “I didn’t know you were still here. You should be out with Christy, wooing her with your undeniable Irish charm.”
The younger man laughed. “Who says woo anymore?”
Exactly. He chuckled under his breath, scribbling notes on the storyboard in front of him. “I’m trying to make sure everything’s in order before I leave. Besides,” he said, putting down his pencil and looking at his friend through tired eyes, “considering the person I’m leaving in charge of my agency is inordinately distracted by romance, I’ve got to do everything I can to secure my business.”
“Very amusing.” Trevor dropped into the chair opposite his desk. “Go home. This,” he said, waving his arm around the spacious corner office, “will all still be here in the morning. And the next. And again next month. It’ll be in good hands while you’re gone.”
“I know.” Marc leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms behind his head.
“I’m surprised you haven’t been out with Natalie as much this week. I thought things were going better between you two. Everything okay?” His eyes narrowed. “If that’s too personal, say the word.”
“It’s fine.” It’d probably do him good to talk about it. “In one of my sessions with Dr. Fontaine, he suggested I give our relationship some space before leaving for Montana. He said I hadn’t taken the time to grieve, for lack of a better term.”
Trevor looked puzzled. “Grieve? What do you mean?”
Marc tapped his pencil in an absent staccato on his desk. “The good doctor thinks I haven’t taken the time to absorb what happened.” The pencil stopped. “When Natalie fell down those stairs, she took a part of me with her, too, you know.” He hesitated. “My heart.”