by Sosie Frost
“Why?”
“You feel guilty because you fell in love?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m guilty because I never protected that gift.” He shook his head. “A man would be a fool to lose you, Evie.”
And a woman would be damned if Shepard Novak ever found her.
I couldn’t let it happen. Not now. Not ever.
Shepard cared for me. Protected me. Wanted to help me.
He bore some heavy guilt for a terrible mistake he’d made in his past, but it didn’t matter what hearts he had broken or loves he had lost.
Shepard was the perfect man.
And that made him wrong for me.
11
Shepard read through my notes with a raised eyebrow. “So, Chinese food reminds you of…”
“Winter.”
“Winter.” He motioned for me to give him anything more. “What else? Snow? Snowmen?”
“Cold.”
He frowned. “Why cold?”
“I don’t know. The Kung Pow chicken was spicy.”
“But why the cold? Think, Evie.”
I pinched my eyes shut. “Because…I bit into something…”
“Yes.”
“And it was hot.”
“Don’t eat that,” he warned. “You won’t like it.”
The pepper didn’t look so tough. “But it’s just a little thing.”
“You can’t handle it.”
“I’ve never said no to a challenge.”
“You should say no to that chili.”
I bit it anyway.
Mistake.
“Jesus!” I lunged for the water. It spilled. Dove for the napkin. Ten of the devil peppers tumbled out. I shoveled rice into my mouth and rushed for the window.
He laughed as I stuck my head outside and gasped in the chilly air.
“Dear God, why won’t it snow?” I pleaded with the clouds.
He snickered from the table, stealing the rest of the peppers from my bowl and adding them to his dinner. “Told ya.”
I blinked.
Shepard grinned, bouncing Clue in his lap. “Got something?”
“I don’t like spicy peppers.”
“Perfect.”
I reached for my baby, giving her a quick hug before buckling her in the carrier. She gave me a slobbery grin and giggled.
Actually giggled.
Why did that sweet sound mean more to me than a flash of memory?
“My goodness.” I patted her chubby cheeks. “When did you get so big?”
Clue answered with another sweet coo.
A week passed here and there. She’d added another couple pounds, a stable sleep schedule, and learned how to belly-laugh. My tiny baby had gone from a newborn to a twelve-week-old giggling, grinning, and cooing milk monster.
She could sit up on her own…provided she had a couch behind her to hold her up. She could talk to me…if I deciphered her excited chirps and gurgles. And she could successfully catch things…as long as I handed them to her directly and hoped her newfound sense of coordination would let her grasp objects by herself.
Overnight, my baby became this…person. Not just a little blob who thought of me as baby bouncer, diaper changer, and milk monger.
And that was so much better than I’d thought it’d be.
“So Chinese makes you think of winter.” Shepard consulted his notes. “And wings make you think of…football.”
I pointed at him. “And we’ve established that I’m a Rivets fan.”
He wasn’t impressed. “Only because you thought Jack Carson was hot.”
“That still makes me a fan.” I picked up Clue’s carrier. “Fan of him. Fan of those tight little pants. Of his smile…”
“Here I am, taking you to dinner when all I had to do was throw a damn football.”
“Get yourself some of those pants and it might earn you dessert.”
“Let’s go, before I change my mind and just take Clue with me.”
“Hazel?” I peeked into her carrier. She didn’t respond. “Delilah?”
“Not liking them?”
I shook my head. “Oh well. Let’s keep trying different foods. Maybe we’ll hit the snack I ate while pregnant and it’ll trigger the right memories.”
“Peanut butter and sardines. Got it.”
“Ew.” I crinkled my nose. “You bring that over, and I won’t let you inside. Hell, I don’t know why you’re even here after that curry fiasco on Monday.”
“I liked it.”
“You have no taste buds.” I handed Clue’s carrier to him so I could lock the door. “Or the curry burned them all away.”
He shook his head. “Well, you should like this pizza place more than the curry.”
“I’d eat wood chips before I ate curry again.”
“Good. Then my job tonight is easy.”
“And what’s that?”
Shepard smirked. “Spoiling you with good food and a better time.”
Wasn’t that what he had been doing for the past two weeks?
Dinners. Movies. Meticulously plotting out anything and everything that triggered even the briefest flashes of memory in my mind.
I didn’t tell him that most of his notes were redundant. I had a lot of the discoveries already written on my blog. Over fifty entries now.
But no emails in response to any of the memories.
“Are you sure you want to eat out with the baby?” I asked. “We could get the pizza to-go.”
“Clue’s not going to cause a fuss.”
I couldn’t say the same about me. “But we’ve never been out like this before. I don’t know if she’ll cry or get upset or—”
“If she does, we’ll calm her down.”
“We?”
Shepard radiated confidence. “That baby loves me. I say drool, and she says how much.”
“Awesome. Next time you should tell her to poo, but just a little.”
“I’m good, but I’m not a wizard.”
“In that case, you’re on diaper patrol.”
He heaved the diaper bag over his shoulder. “The things I do to get you to go out with me.”
And the reasons I invented to keep going out with Shepard.
After two amazing, wonderful, utterly heart-rending weeks, I no longer feared him asking to take me out. I worried that I’d ask him to stay.
I had to be careful. For both me and Clue. Even if Shepard absolutely spoiled the baby with toys and outfits and, most importantly, attention.
Clue didn’t have a daddy yet, but she had a Shepard. And that made her a pretty lucky baby.
And me one very unlucky momma.
Clue’s car seat had become a permanent fixture in Shepard’s Charger. She strapped in, and he promised my rumbling tummy a quick dinner and fun night out with the baby.
It helped that she loved the car ride. And his voice. And him. Made the miles pass quicker when I only had to worry about my foolish heart.
“This isn’t any regular pizza,” he said. “It’s the best in Ironfield. Brick oven style.”
“You realize I get excited for microwavable Pizza Rolls?”
“This is gourmet.”
“How can pizza be gourmet?”
“You’ll see.” He pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot, confidence abound. “And you’ll thank me for taking you out.”
“I’m always polite.”
“This should get me some extra gratitude.” He gave me one of those looks, the type I never should have encouraged but loved just the same. “But you should know…I don’t deliver in thirty minutes or less. Some deliveries can go all night.”
“Yeah…I didn’t order anything that extra cheesy.”
“I’m hot and spicy too.”
He acted like a perfect gentleman, taking the baby’s carrier from me before opening the door to the pizzeria.
I didn’t buy it. “I’m sure you like a good hand-toss too.”
“Doesn’t every guy?”
I shushed him as we passed two very concerned citizens loaded with pizza boxes leaving the restaurant. “You’re supposed to be protecting the public from this sort of indecency.”
“I’d much rather be serving you.”
Oh, he was slick, but I couldn’t get the last word. We waited at the waitress’s podium to be seated, and such conversation was not appropriate around an audience, least of all the two upper-city blondes who turned, sneered, and twisted away from us, iPhones in hand. One twisted a lock of her platinum hair and pursed lips that weren’t naturally baboon-ass red.
“Ugh.” She groaned to her friend. “They better not sit us next to that crotch-fruit.”
The friend rolled her eyes. “Like I wanted to listen to crying all night. It’s called a baby-sitter.”
A couple thoughts crystallized in that moment.
Not pleasant thoughts, but certain universal truths I had just learned about myself.
First, I was glad I didn’t wear earrings. That was less to rip off before I turned on the women.
Secondly, I praised the invention of the baby carrier. Made it easier to keep my child safe while I went batshit on these bitches.
And lastly, I learned that nobody, nowhere talked about my baby like they didn’t think I’d up and beat their asses for daring to address sweet little Clue with such a tone.
Shepard caught me before I rushed the women, and the waitress returned in the nick of time.
“Yeah.” I growled. “You better walk away.”
Shepard sighed. “They’re being seated.”
“And it best be out of my sight or they won’t have to worry about my baby disrupting their dinner.”
“Okay, Evie. No need to go for the jugular.”
“Did you hear what they—”
He tugged me closer. “I did. And I don’t care what they said.”
“Oh, I care. And if they had any balls, they’d be saying it to my face—”
Shepard bumped his shoulder into mine. “You know, in some weird way, I’m proud of you.”
Proud? I snorted. “You’d be even prouder if you watched me rip out those fake-ass highlights.”
“Three months ago, the hospital handed you a baby, and you had no idea what to do. Now you’re a regular momma bear.”
Damn it. “I am, aren’t I?”
“Clue couldn’t ask for a better momma.”
“Well…it’s all I know.”
He greeted to the waitress. “Think we can eat without digging any trenches?”
“There’s an armistice until the baby takes a nap.”
“Simple goals.”
The waitress led us to a corner table—the far corner, far enough from the blondes that Clue could fuss if she wanted. Not that she would with Shepard around. Hell, I never fussed with Shepard around, and that was the precise reason I parked her carrier on the chair between us.
And then pushed a bread plate to my side, adding clutter.
Toyed with a folded napkin like a mini paper wall.
Ordered the tallest glass of water they had and pretended it was a raging river.
It didn’t work.
The table was too intimate. The lovely restaurant was built like a cozy kitchen with brick walls and the glow of a giant oven warming the dining area. I hid behind the menu, letting my hair fall in front of my face. It did nothing but tease a vision of Shepard through the curls.
Was he smiling?
Was I smiling?
This was a mistake. Worse than any spicy pepper in forgotten memory was the inevitable truth.
I didn’t need the memories to return for my heart to decide what it wanted. And that was to twist itself into a pretty little bow to top my perfect bundle of confusion.
“Pepperoni?” Shepard flipped through the menu. “Or are you feeling adventurous?”
What could possibly be riskier than losing myself in his eyes? “What sort of adventure?”
“Tropical.”
The waitress returned. He pointed to the menu. “We’ll need a pepperoni pizza…and a Hawaiian.”
I crinkled my nose. Ham? Pineapple?
Shepard wasn’t done. “Let’s have extra pineapple and red onion as well.”
The waitress took our menus. She swiped my appetite too.
“Are you kidding me?” I groaned. “Pineapple on a pizza?”
“Don’t think you’ll like it?”
“It’s a fruit. On a pizza.”
“Tomato is a fruit.”
“You’re a fruit.”
He sipped his soda with a victorious smirk. “Promise me you’ll try it?”
“Promise me after I try it you’ll keep the pizza far, far away from me?”
“Famous last words.”
“No, pretty sure those would be—oh god…who puts pineapple on a pizza?”
“You’ll see.” He squeezed Clue’s hand and earned her giggle. “It’ll be your favorite.”
“Sure they didn’t spike that soda of yours?”
Shepard’s wicked grin deserved a garlic knot tossed at his head. He caught it before it knocked into his nose, and he took a satisfied bite. I wished I hadn’t laughed.
Wished I hadn’t found him so charming.
So handsome.
So entertaining.
How the hell was I going to swallow any of the pizza when I kept choking on my own damn feelings?
Both pizzas crowded the table. The pepperoni steamed, piping hot and bubbling. The Hawaiian…looked like a fruit salad. I shook my head as Shepard dished a slice onto his plate.
Then he handed it to me.
“Best pizza in the city…” He tempted me with the slice. “Do you trust me?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Ah.” He smiled. “So you do trust me.”
“One bite.” I pointed at him. “One.”
“If you say so.”
I picked up the slice—crispy, thin, and straight from the oven. I’d been through worse—like the bumper of an ice cream truck. I would not get intimidated by my dinner. I took a bite.
Salty.
Savory.
Sweet.
Freaking delicious.
It was hard to chew when my jaw wanted to drop. A flood of excitement rushed through me, even more exhilarating than the most delicious food I had ever remembered tasting.
“I’ve had this before!” I grinned. “I remember this!”
“Pizza?”
“Yes!”
Shepard knew the drill. He’d worked with me on memories for the past two weeks. His motion was almost cliché at this point. “Keep digging. What exactly do you remember?”
“Hawaiian pizza. Pineapple. Onions.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Friday.” I gasped. “Every Friday I ordered a pizza.”
“You and million other Americans. I need something more, Evie. Think.”
“Don’t be a baby.” I pushed the slice towards him. “Try it.”
“I don’t even like pineapple.”
He was cute when he protested. But that pout wasn’t going to save him.
“Just try it. One bite. You’ll see.” I winked. “You’ve never had pizza like this.”
“Never had one as expensive either.”
“There’s only a couple places in the city that make their pizza right.” I cocked my eyebrow. “Be glad you found me now. I just saved you from a life of terrible pizza.”
“You saved me from a lot more than that.”
I reached for another piece. Shepard playfully swatted my hand. “What happened to one bite?”
“All in the name of science.” I loaded my plate with the pizza. “This is fantastic.”
“I know. That’s why I ordered it.”
I nibbled a bit of cheese. “I’ve had this before, Detective.”
“That’s a start.”
I hesitated. “And I…I ate it with him.”
“Him.”
I shrugged. “Whoever he is.
Was. I think Friday was our date night.”
“I used to have one of those.”
I smirked. “Oh yeah? What did you used to do? Champagne? Caviar? Wine and dine her?”
Shepard quieted. “No. Usually I worked too long. Came home late. Brought her some take out as an apology.”
“Oh.” I took a big bite of the pizza. “Sounds…romantic.”
“It might have been…if I had taken the time.”
“Live and learn, right?”
“Sometimes you don’t deserve a second chance.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I never thought I’d get one.”
But why? It was none of my business, and it seemed cruel to force him to speak about something so obviously painful to him. But he knew everything about me—at least, everything I already knew.
And I couldn’t let him hate himself for what he’d done in the past.
Not when the Shepard of the present was so…
Perfect.
“What happened with her?” I asked gently. “Where is she now?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got two pizzas to eat.” I nodded toward the baby. “And Clue is sleeping.”
Shepard wasn’t convinced. “I was a different person then. A lot has changed.”
“You’re stalling.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I don’t often tell this story.”
I shrugged. “That shouldn’t stop you.”
“I don’t know how to tell this story.”
“Tell the truth.”
“There’s more to it than that.” He took a swig of his soda. “Should have ordered some Jack in there too.”
“Shepard.”
He heaved a breath. “It was a couple years ago. I got out of the police academy and met a girl. We started dating. We moved in together. And things were complicated.”
“How so?”
“Well, for one, she was the police chief’s daughter.”
I grinned. “Forbidden fruit?”
“Try poisoned.” He didn’t smile at his own joke. “I was working hard, trying to advance in the ranks. Her father, my chief, fast-tracked me. The other guys saw some of the favoritism, and that splintered the force. But I did my job well—double-checked that I dotted my I’s and crossed the T’s. I’m a good cop, Evie. I take pride in that.”
“I know you are. You’re my hero.”