Drawing back, she stared into his dark pleading gaze. She probably wouldn’t find the likeness between his and Matt’s eyes so unsettling if it were the only similarity, but Mac even used the same phrases and tone whenever he tried to persuade her to do something.
His swollen erection stirred against her belly, and she shuddered with excitement. She couldn’t make love with him and keep her heart from getting even more involved. She’d never survive it if she let herself fall for Mac, and then lost him. The fair thing would be to tell him about her hysterectomy, but she couldn’t as long as there was a seed of hope that he could be content with just Tommy and her.
His mouth moved over her face and down her throat. He lifted her against him, aligning her feminine mound to the ridge under his fly and bent her back, making a banquet out of her sensitive flesh. “Please, Abby,” he murmured, nipping at her neck, “I need you so much.”
Pressing her against the wall, he wrapped her legs around him. As he ground his erection into her, it took every ounce of her willpower to resist rocking against him. Dear Lord, she wanted him.
“You say you need me, Mac, but do you love me?”
He closed his eyes. “Maybe. All I’m sure of is every nerve in me is screaming for you, and no other woman will do.”
“Mac, I made a mistake when I slept with you.”
He released a defeated sound and lowered her to her feet. “How can you say the night we shared was a mistake?” He nuzzled her ear. “It was incredible.”
“I think so, too, but—”
“Then what’s the problem? Let’s have an encore. Better yet, let’s have several of them.” Mac guided her toward her bedroom, and she stopped him, pushing her palms against his chest.
“I’m sorry. Not until after I know where our relationship is going. As a man, you may be able to keep sex and your feelings separate, but I can’t sleep with you without becoming even more involved than I already am. I don’t want my heart broken.”
~~~
Matt gazed into Abby’s eyes and sighed. He completely empathized with how she felt. “I understand. Goodnight.”
He kissed her softly on the forehead and headed back to the kitchen. As he tromped down to the basement, he chewed his lip. He was home, he had his son, and now a job. What did his subconscious hold that could still hurt him?
If Abby refused to let herself care for the man he’d become, how could he ever feel secure in her love? They were both so damn worried about protecting their hearts they couldn’t allow themselves to get close to each other.
Feeling torn, he finished countersinking the last screw in his gift. He was tempted to show it to her before he even sanded and varnished it, but he wanted it to be perfect when he finally gave it to her. It had come out pretty well for a first effort. A deep sense of accomplishment swelled in his chest that went a long way toward bolstering his feelings of self-worth.
Maybe loving Abby wasn’t at the root of his memory block. Perhaps the problem was that he hadn’t loved her. Nothing he’d learned about their relationship implied he’d felt anything other than rampant lust. Maybe he really had been just a horny stud eager to get into a pretty girl’s pants.
Was it possible he couldn’t handle discovering he’d been the kind of man who, without a twinge of conscience, could seduce his friend’s sister, take her innocence, all the while planning to walk away? Had he resented Abby’s unplanned pregnancy that pushed him into marriage? Maybe it was himself he couldn’t bear to face.
~~~
“You think Abby’s lover make her feel so wonderful like you?” The bastard’s malevolent smile turned smug. “Yes. I see letter and picture you hide in cigarette package. Your little wife sound eager. Abby young. Soon she find another man to make her wiggle in the bed and forget you.”
When Matt refused to react, the son of a bitch continued. “It not be you watching baby take first step. You forget her and life before you come here,” he taunted. “You not going back. Your government think you dead.”
Matt’s choked scream woke him shortly after four a.m. He lay in bed shaking and gasping for air.
No wonder he’d buried his memories.
Unlike all the other dreams that tormented him, he actually remembered some of this one. It seemed as if they’d brainwashed him into his amnesia with the combination of torture and repeated mandates to forget what he’d lost at home. The pain from the brutal beating and the cigarette burns paled in comparison to the intense heartache he’d felt.
One important thing still eluded him, though. Had his anguish been so intense because he’d loved his wife, or had it been the result from fearing she’d lose his baby? Or, more selfishly, that he would never know his child?”
He needed to be in Abby’s arms. He’d held her when she came to him for solace the night Rob broke their engagement. Would she deny him the same comfort?
~~~
Abby frowned when her mattress shifted and Mac’s warmth pressed against her. He had a lot of nerve climbing into her bed after she’d emphatically told him no. As she turned to give him a piece of her mind, his body vibrated against her.
“Mac, what’s wrong?” She stroked his damp head, breathing in the scent of fresh perspiration on him.
“I know you don’t want me here, but I need to hold you. Just for a while.”
“You’re not actually trying to convince me you’re so overcome with passion you’re trembling like this, are you?”
He molded her body to his, rubbing his face in her hair. “No, Babe, I had another nightmare. It was worse than the others because I remembered this one after I woke up. I’ll go crazy if I go back there tonight. I need you to hold me and keep me here with you.”
“Shhh....” She kissed his neck, tasting the salty residue from his sweat. “Maybe if you tell me about—”
“No, I can’t talk about it right now.” He shuddered. “Just let me hold you. I won’t be going back to sleep, so I promise I’ll get up at six and leave.”
While Mac cuddled her, the feather light kisses he scattered over her face and his loving touch squeezed her heart. He nibbled on her neck and his hot breath caressed her ear, making her shiver. The tender way he held her affected her more deeply than if they’d actually had sex.
It was as if their spirits touched in a way their bodies never could.
The moving experience gnawed at her defenses, so when Mac kissed her at dawn and slid quietly out of her bed, he took a huge piece of her heart with him.
~~~
At daybreak, Matt crept downstairs to the workroom and wore out one sheet of sandpaper after another, finishing the wood. While he worked, vague memories teased the edges of his mind.
The first clear recollection he managed to grab was the profound sadness when his parents told him they couldn’t afford his piano lessons any longer.
Abby had been wrong. He’d been devastated. At thirteen, he’d already been giving his dad nearly everything he earned cutting lawns to help with the food bill, so he’d been unable to pay for the lessons himself. He wasn’t sure if he’d been too embarrassed to admit to Abby how much quitting had bothered him, or if he’d simply buried how much it had hurt.
After all, wasn’t he a champion at repressing unpleasant memories?
All at once, Matt’s childhood flooded back in a domino effect, creating a kaleidoscope of memories feeding one another. His recollections came to a screeching halt the spring of his senior year at Princeton. It was as if his memory hit a brick wall with only darkness beyond it. The more he tried to see beyond the wall, the more his head pounded.
He grabbed the workbench, rubbing his forehead.
Accompanying his memories was an overwhelming desire to see his parents and sister before he started his job. However, he didn’t dare sacrifice the precious time left to sort things out with Abby before the government contacted her.
At eight o’clock, he heard Abby fixing breakfast and went upstairs. He glanced at his son’s closed bedroom door, and then at Abby m
easuring coffee at the kitchen counter. Sneaking up behind her, he folded back the edge of her silky kimono and nibbled her nape. “How come you haven’t woken Tommy up?” he whispered.
Abby craned her neck and moaned. “Mmmm. The boys don’t have school today. It’s a teachers’ in-service day. Lucy will be bringing Royce over at nine.”
Tommy stumbled into the kitchen, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Matt scooped him up and hugged him. “Good morning, Bud.”
Now that he’d remembered his own parents, the connection with his son seemed even more precious. He glanced between his child and Abby.
Had Tommy ever met his grandparents?
He set his son down and leaned on the counter. “Does Tommy see Matt’s parents at all?”
“Not really. They’ve only been here three times since he was born. They came here about a month after I had him, and we had some problems.”
“What sort of problems?”
Abby glanced over at their son and lowered her voice to nearly a whisper. “They wanted to take Tommy and raise him. They thought I was too young to be a good mother.”
That didn’t sound like his parents. “You’re kidding?”
“I think it was just the shock of Matt’s death. I suspect they hoped to get a little of him back through his child. I sent letters with pictures every month. The next time they visited, Tommy was three and things were better.”
When the tinkling of the piano drifted into the kitchen, Matt called into the living room, “Buddy, could you come here?”
Their son skipped in barefoot still wearing his pajamas.
“Listen, we need to talk.” Matt lifted him into the chair and hunkered down next to him. “Mommy and I know you love playing the piano, but that’s all you’ve been doing lately. You don’t ride your bike anymore or play with Royce. Your friend really misses you.”
“But I wanna learn how to play like you.”
“I know. But you have your whole life to learn. You need to do the other things kids do, too. From now on, your mom and I are going to limit you to only two hours a day.”
Abby laid her hand on Tommy’s head. “I think the best time would be in the evening so you can play outside in the afternoon.”
Tommy screwed up his mouth and sighed. “All right. I sorta miss playing with Royce, anyway.”
“Good.” Matt ruffled his hair. “He really needs you since his dad left.”
His son flashed his gaping grin. “Yeah, but you’re a lot better dad than mean old Mr. Harmon. He used to h—” Tommy slapped his hand over his mouth.
“He used to what, Tom?”
“Nothing. I made a mistake. I gotta go get dressed.”
It sounded as if Royce might have confided to Tommy about Bill abusing him. It was good if the kid could share his problems with his pal.
Once Tommy ran off to get dressed, Matt took two mugs from the cabinet and asked, “So when was the last time Tommy saw his grandparents?”
“About a year ago. They came for his fifth birthday.” Abby dipped several slices of bread into an egg and milk mixture. “What’s your sudden interested in Matt’s parents?”
“Believe or not, this morning most of my memory suddenly resurfaced. Thinking about my family got me wondering about Tommy’s grandparents.”
“That’s wonderful.” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. “So now you know who you really are?”
“Pretty much. But I’m still missing about a year before I went overseas. For some reason, my subconscious won’t give me access to that part of my life.”
“Maybe it was an awful time, and you’re better off if you don’t ever remember it. I mean, does it make sense that you’d repress good memories?”
Great. That was just what he needed to hear—the same kind of logic he’d been using to tie himself in knots. “No. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
~~~
Abby sunk her hands wrist-deep in the bowl of bread dough to knead it.
The boys rushed into the house and Tommy tugged on her jeans. “Mom, me and Royce wanna make a treasure map, but we don’t have any paper.”
She sprinkled some flour on the dough and folded it. “Okay, I’ll get you a few sheets after I’m done here.”
“No-o.” Tommy stomped his foot. “We need it now.”
“Don’t stamp your foot at me, young man.”
Her son looked at the floor. “Sorry.” He gazed up at her, his eyes pleading. “C’mon, Mom, whaddaya say? Won’t you find us some now, puleeeze?”
His expression and tone of persuasion were so similar to Matt’s it was eerie. But her son had never known his dad.
Was something like that genetic, or was Tommy simply emulating Mac?
Her son shook her arm. “C’mon, please, we’re burying our mentos, and we need to make a map so we can find ‘em.”
“You mean mementos? Wherever did you learn that word?”
An anxious look swept over Royce’s face. He shook his head at his friend.
Tommy bit his lip. “Uhhh—Dad told us about it.”
“There’s some paper in the closet in Mac’s room. I’ll get you a few pieces after I wash my hands.”
The boys ran off and a few minutes later dashed through the kitchen, racing for the back door. “Don’t worry about the paper,” Tommy called back to her. “Me and Royce found it.”
When they hurried outside with several sheets and a box of crayons, she smiled. It felt good to see her son behave like a normal child again. She glanced at the door and bit her lower lip. Except....how had they gotten the paper down from the shelf?
Visions of Tommy standing on Royce’s shoulders captured her worrywart mother’s imagination. She chuckled. This was probably something a mother was better off not knowing.
~~~
Matt sat down at the dinner table that evening to a loaf of hot homemade bread and a crock of chili covered with melted Monterey Jack cheese. “Oh, wow.” He groaned. “I love chili. Although, I always thought it was an oxymoron to call something this hot, chilly.”
“I never thought about that.” She laughed. “Tommy loves it, too. He likes anything spicy. When his grandparents were visiting, they took us to a Mexican restaurant and introduced him to salsa.”
“I’m sure they get a lot better Mexican food in Texas than here.”
Her whole body stiffened. “H-how’d you know my in-laws live in Texas?”
When was he going to learn to keep his big foot out of his mouth? Next thing he knew, he’d have a fungus from keeping his toes in such a dark moist place. “Uhh—I don’t know. Didn’t you mention it when we were talking about them this morning?”
“Did I? I don’t remember saying anything about it.” She tipped her head and shrugged. “Oh, well, I must have.”
Matt let out a breath of relief. He hated deceiving her this way. But he was so close to remembering. Maybe if he just gave himself another day or two.
Biting off a huge hunk of the warm buttered bread, he rolled his eyes. “Mmm. This is incredible, Sweetheart.”
Tommy tugged on his sleeve. “Dad, why do ya call my mom that? Are you and her in love?”
She and Matt stared at each other for several heartbeats.
“Uh, I’m not sure yet, Buddy. But possibly someday we will be.”
Abby reached across the table to push Tommy’s plate back from the edge, and a refraction of light on her finger caught Matt’s attention. He took her left hand and studied her wedding and engagement rings. “Not very impressive compared to Rob’s, huh?”
“Rob could’ve given me ten rings without feeling it.” She gazed lovingly down at the tiny diamond on her hand. “After Matt bought me the GTO, he didn’t have much left from selling his patent. These were all he could afford.”
“He could’ve sold his Harley.”
“He was about to, but I wouldn’t let him. The rings Matt gave me may not be much, but they have lots of love attached to them.”
“Just because
it wasn’t a financial sacrifice for Rob doesn’t mean there wasn’t just as much love involved. If you ask me, he probably cares more than your husband ever did.”
She blew out an angry huff. “Why are you constantly minimizing how much Matt loved me?”
Probably because he remembered the kind of person he used to be. Peter had been wrong when he’d called Matt a love’em and leave’em guy. Fuck’em and leave’em would’ve been much more accurate. It disgusted him to recall how many girls he’d banged while he was in college. It was a miracle he hadn’t gotten the clap or something.
“You have no idea how my husband felt so how dare you compare his love to Rob’s.”
“No, you’re right. I don’t know how Matt felt.” If he did, everything would be a whole lot simpler. His history of buzzing from flower to flower suggested he hadn’t taken Abby any more seriously than any of his other girlfriends. He’d just messed up and gotten her pregnant. “Even though I can’t speak for your husband, I can say for certain Robert loves you a lot.”
“And what makes you so sure of that?”
“What else would possess a man to call in a favor to help his rival get a job? Obviously, Rob wants you to be happy more than he wants to beat me out.”
“Are you saying I should marry Rob after all?”
“No, that’s not what I want. Although, it might be the best thing for you. I just want you to stop thinking the man you married was so damn special. From what your brother and you’ve told me, I have a feeling Matt wasn’t the man you think he was. He doesn’t deserve your devotion.”
“I don’t particularly care what you think. You didn’t know Matt, so stop badmouthing him in front of my son.”
His gaze shot to Tommy’s tense face. Damn. He’d forgotten they had an audience. “I’m sorry, Buddy. Your mom’s right. I don’t know enough to be able to talk about your dad that way.”
The problem was he was too well acquainted with the younger Matthew T. Foster before he met Abby. If he’d been Peter, Matt wouldn’t have let a bed-hopping Romeo like him get within a mile of Abby. In fact, he would’ve sent her to a convent on the opposite side of the country and left no forwarding address.
The Memory of You Page 27