by Sosie Frost
Shepard didn’t look at me, just stirred the dinner. “What would you do without sarcasm?”
“Please. I don’t have a memory. This is my best entertainment.”
I shouldn’t have given him that smile as I backed away. The I-know-my-shirt-is-wrinkled-my-hair-is-in-a-pony-tail-and-I-look-like-I-haven’t-slept-in-a-month-but-you’re-gonna-look-at-my-butt-when-I-leave-so-enjoy-it smirk.
I glanced over my shoulder in the hall.
I loved being right.
But I hated what it meant.
Flirting with another man while I held a newborn?
Surely there was a circle in hell reserved for mothers with this sort of terrible judgment—the ones who named their kids after cardinal directions or took their newborn to a movie theater.
I flirted.
I should’ve dunked my head in Clue’s bath. At least then I’d have woken up and crashed back to reality.
Instead, I gently set her chubby butt in the water. She crinkled her face and gave a warning cry until I did as she liked, placing a warm washcloth over her chest and belly so she could relax and spa-day her troubles away.
Oh, to be a baby with her worries. While Momma panicked about grocery shopping and missing persons’ reports, Clue contemplated the important matters. When to next cry. Dine from the right boob tonight…or the left? How to take the next bath in a Jacuzzi tub?
One of the good things about my little Clue? She was an enterprising sort of baby.
If she wanted a bubble bath…she’d make it herself.
“Oh no, Clue!”
The books said Clue was too young to smile yet, but they said nothing about her developing a sense of smug superiority and ironic timing.
I lifted her out of the water. More than soap splattered into the tub, and I regretted pulling her close to me in lieu of wrapping her into a towel.
I thought eight hours trapped nursing on the couch was my reward for creating her life. Nope. Clue’s gratitude splattered down my leg, on my arms, and into the water.
“Clue, why?”
Shepard knocked at the door. “Is everything…okay?”
I turned. Fortunately, Clue’s eruption had ceased. Unfortunately, she sent the rains as a peace offering.
I gave up, letting her do her thing on me because I had nowhere else to tuck her.
Shepard stared in horror. I buzzed my lips and sighed.
“Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m the milk-maid or the diaper.”
“Right now…you’re pretty much gross.”
“Better me than the baby.”
Shepard offered me a towel. It wouldn’t do a lot of good. I wrapped Clue up and surveyed the damage. She’d wrecked her tub and herself, coating us both in a layer of pure misfortune.
This was breast-fed Karma. I’d flirted and hoped to earn more of Shepard’s sexy smiles, and the baby bomb was my punishment.
Very effective.
“I need to rinse her off,” I said. “But now I have to bleach the tub.”
Shepard did smile now. His lips parted.
And his rolling caramel laugh was well-deserved.
“Let’s get her in the kitchen sink,” he said. “Maybe you’ll fit in there too.”
I shuddered. “At this point, just take a match to me.”
Shepard left a wide birth between me and the baby. “You just need a long shower. Good thing I plan to help.”
“You want to help me shower?”
Shepard winked. “If you’re desperate, but I planned to watch the kid instead.”
“Right.” I nervously laughed. “That’d be nice.”
The sink was clean, but Shepard scrubbed the bottom and sides before I let my baby steep in the water. I detoured to the counter, peeking into the dinner he’d prepared.
Soup.
Chicken soup.
“You didn’t…”
Shepard rinsed the suds away. “You mentioned that your grandmother made chicken soup. I thought I’d give it a shot, see if it didn’t jar any more memories.”
I stared at the golden broth. The crock pot didn’t do much, but the savory salty scent was enough to dent the cement vault capturing my memories.
Or maybe it sealed me inside.
I didn’t know.
I didn’t care.
“Rice?” I asked. “It’s chicken and wild rice. That’s what she made. How did you know?”
Shepard tested the water with his forearm before plugging the sink. “I grabbed whatever was in my pantry.”
“I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”
A lock of playful blonde hair teased over his eyes. “I told you, Evie. I’m here to help. Let’s wash up the kid so we can eat. I think this dinner might be the trigger.”
“Really?”
“Somewhere, locked away in your head, is every secret I’m dying to learn.”
“And you think I’d share them with you?”
“Why would you want to hide them from me?”
I hummed. “Isn’t that why they’re called secrets?”
“Only because you don’t trust me yet.” He approached, standing so tall I had to look up to see the honesty in his eyes. “But I’m going to prove to you that you can depend on me. For more than just soup.”
I exhaled, chasing away a shudder of warmth that never should have been.
But it wasn’t because Shepard had whispered such wonderful words to me. It was because I had heard those promises spoken to me before.
Somewhere.
Long ago.
And it was my fault they were gone.
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed. “Yeah. Can you put a couple towels in the sink too? Gotta keep the queen comfortable.”
“Sure thing.” Shepard padded the sides and made space for the baby. “What is Her Highness’s name today?”
“I’ve tried a couple. Abby. Tasha. Martha.”
“And?”
“Still Clue.” I smiled as she rested on my arm. The water soothed her, and Clue closed her eyes. “She doesn’t mind the nickname.”
“You’re doing a good job.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You aren’t covered in the unmentionable.”
“That…stain? That’s just her residual cuteness.”
“Her cuteness has one hell of a range.”
He handed me her soap and watched as I massaged the suds into her dark hair. “Once you’re done, I’ll put her down for you. You go hop in the shower.”
“I can do it.”
“I’m starving.” He helped to trickle water over Clue’s toes. “Let me wrangle the kid. You relax in the shower. Then we’ll eat.”
Was it that easy? That comforting? He promised me a shower, and it was like a gift I never knew I wanted.
“I wonder if this is how it would feel.” I instantly regretted speaking.
“How what would feel?”
I sighed. “If I had…no. Never mind. It’s dumb.”
Shepard didn’t look away. “Tell me.”
“If Clue and I had our family.”
I squirted a healthy amount of soap on my hands and aimed for her pudgy little cheeks and fingers, toes and rolls. Too bad I couldn’t scrub those dark thoughts out of my head.
“It’d be like this…” I said. “Dinner would be ready. Someone could tuck her in. I’d have a chance to get a shower. We’d be a family.”
Shepard held out Clue’s bath towel—grey, fuzzy, and with a hood that gave her bunny ears. He spoke with a confidence I envied.
“You are her family, Evie. And she’s yours. You two will never be alone.”
“Okay.” I pulled her out of the water and bundled her up. “You say that now. But tell me? Did you find anything? Someone who reported their wife missing. Someone who wondered about a lost pregnant girlfriend?” I quieted. “Tell me someone is out there searching.”
Shepard was quiet. I arched an eyebrow.
“You’re a bad fairy godmother, Detective Novak.
”
“Good. I’m trying to be Prince Charming.”
“I don’t need a dragon slayed. I just want to know if someone is missing me.”
“A man would have to be crazy if he didn’t miss you.” Shepard tugged on Clue’s towel, wrapping her tighter before taking her from my arms. “And he’d do crazy things to find you.”
“This is where you ask me to be patient.”
“And this is where you refuse to listen.”
“What would you do?” I asked.
He studied the baby—her little pudgy cheeks and closed eyes, snuggled so tiny and safe in his arms.
“I’d turn over every rock, search every street, call in every favor. I wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t give up until I found you.”
My words quieted, soft and tentative. “I meant…if you were me.”
“Oh.” Shepard sheepishly smiled. “I’d get a shower and enjoy a couple minutes of peace before dinner.”
“You have a way with the ladies, don’t you?”
“I can give ‘em what they need.”
“A shower and a nap?”
“A quiet house.”
“You’ll watch the baby?”
“Absolutely. And as a bonus…” He lowered his voice and licked his bottom lip. “I also do dishes.”
“I love it when you talk clean to me.” I edged towards the bathroom, but I pointed to Clue. “You know how to diaper and dress a baby?”
“I’m also certified in infant CPR if you’re worried.”
“I wasn’t until you said it.”
I squeezed Clue’s hand and hurried to the bedroom, picking out a new pair of clothes without bothering to ensure the socks matched. Why waste time when I had a freebie shower beckoning me?
The water steamed, hot and perfect. I didn’t wait for it to adjust before jumping into the stream. Cold or scalding, it didn’t matter. My arms freed from the baby, aching the new mommy muscles of my biceps and triceps. I cleansed my body of everything sticky and listened only to the quiet pitter-padder of the water.
It was Heaven.
But the quiet wasn’t as comforting as I imagined it. Sure, Clue had settled, and Shepard wasn’t shouting for me. Everything seemed okay.
But anyone could put a diaper on a baby—even I had learned how. Dressing one was a little harder. She tended to flop around a lot, and sneaking the shirt over her head could be tricky. But Shepard was a detective. He could deduce his way into a solution.
But putting her down? In the crib?
My heart nearly shattered.
I pulled the shower curtain aside and called for him. “Shepard!”
The memory nearly cracked my head off the tile.
The shower curtain tugged back. A brush of cold air teased over my hips.
I dropped the washcloth into a puddle of suds at my feet.
“Go on…” He whispered with a wolfish growl. “Pick it up.”
“You get it for me.”
“With pleasure.”
I squealed as his suit jacket struck the floor. He didn’t bother with the rest of clothes. I backed into the wall, soapy and overheated, panting with a waiting breath as he knelt at my feet. The washcloth teased over my feet, my ankle, along the delicate curve of my calf, and finally to the supple swell of my thigh. He passed it near the crest of my legs, chuckling as it teased a part of me aching for more than the warmth of the water.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” I whispered.
“It never felt like home until you came.” His words muffled against my skin. “Promise me you’ll never leave.”
“Only if you never stop.”
His tongue flicked out. I gasped.
“Deal.”
“Evie?”
The door cracked open, and the memory vanished.
Not into a fog this time.
No.
Into a pool. A puddle. A wash of heat that raced from my toes to my lips, parting them in a quiet breath, tingling ache, and ravishing delight.
I exhaled. It didn’t help. My head dizzied in the memory. I gripped the wall.
“Everything okay?” Shepard called.
“Y—yeah.” Did my voice sound as husky as I thought? My mind blanked, and the only images that remained were wicked, immoral moments of pleasure. “Make sure you put the baby to sleep on her back.”
He sounded amused. “I know.”
“No blankets near her face.”
“I know.”
“You might have to rock her a bit.”
“She’s already out, Evie.”
I sighed. So was I. I flipped off the water. “Good. I’ll be done in a second.”
“You can take a little longer if you want.”
And melt? No way. “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll set some bowls out.”
The door closed. The memories swirled in the steam.
That settled it.
Someone had to be out there searching for me. The memory was too vivid, too layered in pleasure, desire, and affection for me to be completely alone.
He was real.
So why hadn’t he found me yet?
I dried off and dressed, checking on Clue before heading to the kitchen. Shepard made a good swaddle, and he’d tucked her into the crib without a single wrinkle to her onesie. I snuck out of the nursery and let her sleep. It wouldn’t last long, maybe only two hours, but it was enough.
The steaming soup beckoned me. He served it with a hunk of bread and a glass of iced tea.
“It’s nothing fancy,” he said. “Just something quick. But we have to start somewhere, right?”
We.
“I suppose so.”
“Take a bite.”
The soup smelled strongly of pepper, but the first sip warmed me in liquid comfort. I’d needed a hearty and soothing meal. The broth was strong, and the rice hadn’t congealed into a total lump of mush.
He did well.
“So?” He watched me eat, studying my every reaction. “Any memories?”
Oh, I had remembered something quite vivid. Nothing polite for dinner conversation.
I shrugged. “It’s very good soup.”
“Nothing coming to you?” He sat back, picking at his bread but not eating. “Damn. I hoped that’d work. There’s nothing you remember?”
“Well…I’m getting bits and pieces here and there.”
That interested him. “Like what?”
“Nothing that would help the investigation.”
“You don’t know that.” Shepard’s eyes flashed with a quick determination. “Tell me what you remembered. All of it.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
I bit my lip. “Why?”
“Anything you offer can help me narrow down where I should be looking for your past. A street. A person. A car. The smallest detail tells a hundred stories.”
“Yeah…not this one.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” I tapped the spoon on the rim of the bowl. “It had to do with me in the shower.”
“That’s fine. Where was the shower? At your house? What did it look like?”
“Like a shower.”
“Work with me.”
“This is a memory, Shepard. Not a letter to Penthouse.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Oh, now I see.”
I threatened him with my bread. “No comments.”
“So it was a good memory.”
I nodded towards Clue’s bedroom. “I have a newborn. I suspect I’ve had many good memories.”
“Well, she is good evidence for an…exciting past.”
Maybe. That remained to be seen. “Know what my psychologist says?”
“Please stop berating me, I’m just doing my job?”
“Doctor Clark says that I’m trying to hide my past. That I don’t want to remember.”
“Even the good parts?”
“Especially the good parts.”
Shepard’s eyebrows rose.
“Doesn’t sound like you.”
I stirred the soup. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a reason I don’t want to remember. Maybe I did something in my past that isn’t worth remembering.”
Shepard grinned. “Like what? What do you think you’re capable of doing?”
“Who knows? Maybe…I was some sort of secret agent.”
“Oh, yes.” Shepard slurped his soup. “Code Name: Placenta.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I was part of some sort of governmental cover-up. I did my job, and then they just—whoop. Wiped my brain.”
“And left you pregnant?”
“Poor Clue can never know she’s actually part Martian.”
“Martian?”
“Explains why she’s paler than me.”
Shepard laughed. “I would love it if you told the psychologist this hypothetical past.”
“Oh really?” I feigned insult. “Fine. Maybe I wasn’t part of the government. Maybe I was a…runaway.”
“And why would you run away?”
“To join the circus.”
“You know, I never checked the carnies in the area for any information.”
“If you had, you’d have learned that I lost my memory in a tragic trapeze related incident.”
“Trapeze?”
“Would you prefer lion tamer?”
“Let me get you a whip.” He smirked. “See if it sparks a memory.”
“You joke, but I just might be the best contortionist in the world. I bet I could have fit my legs behind my head and did fancy splits and settled into all sorts of entertaining positions before the baby.” I bit the spoon. “Doubt me, and you might never get to see them.”
“I’d hate to miss that show.” He leaned against the chair. “And where’s Clue fit into this?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked. “World’s smallest person.”
“Of course.”
I pushed the rice around the bowl. “Maybe I was a flight attendant, and I’m stuck in a completely different city.”
“I bet they would have complained if you didn’t show up for the return trip.”
“Didn’t say I was a good flight attendant.” I laughed. “Hell, three weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to fit down the aisle.”
“Good point.”
“Maybe I was visiting college friends.” I shook my head. “No. They should have reported me gone. Maybe it was my own little spiritual journey—see the entire United States before the baby came. A mini-vacation, and I got stuck?”