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Mom gasped. “You asked her out through a text message? You’ve lost your touch, son.”
“That’s what you think, Mom. What was old is new again.”
And there was no reason I couldn’t romance my wife and recover her memories at the same time.
Megan
Date night. It seemed like something that old married couples did, not a man as young and full of energy as Casey, but the date was his request. It was a damned adorable request too, a digital high-school note.
Will you go on a date with me? the handwritten message asked, with a box to check for yes or no. It was so damn cute I was powerless to do anything other than check the yes box and return the message. It was a nice touch.
A sweet gesture to get what he wanted without pushing.
So why in the hell did I feel so nervous as I sifted through the small walk-in closet filled with clothes? I was already married to this man. Had kissed him millions of times, seen him naked, and very likely—hopefully—kissed every inch of his body. But this felt like a first date. It had the weight, the significance of a first date.
I wanted to impress Casey. I wanted him to like me, which was ridiculous because he didn’t just like me—he loved me enough to marry me, to build a life with me. I knew all that; still, I dressed carefully in a pretty pink silk dress that flared out at the skirt, nipped in at the waist and showed off hella cleavage. I paired it with nude stilettos that I wasn’t sure I could walk in at first, but my steps were easy and almost graceful.
I took my time with my makeup, surprised to see how skilled I was at applying wingtip eyeliner, perfectly contoured cheeks, and even adding some plump to my lips without artificial means. I spritzed some perfume—apparently, I favored earthy and flowery scents—and made my way downstairs where Casey waited with his eyes glued to the television.
“Anything good on?”
Casey quickly clicked the ‘off’ button and stood, turning to me with a smile that slowly morphed into something like shock. “Damn, Megs, you look stunning.”
His words warmed my skin through and caused my heart to beat double time. I even had to press my legs together at the sight of the heat in his gaze.
“Stunning? Wow, thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”
He looked good enough to eat, but I had to be careful not to tease him until I was ready to take that teasing to the next level.
He continued to stare, his blue eyes raking over me as heavy as a caress. “Sorry, but wow, you look so sexy.”
I laughed. “Do I not normally look sexy?”
Casey blinked, realizing his mistake. “You’re sexy as hell, Megs. Always. But you don’t usually dress like this. Normally, you put a soft pink sweater on top of this dress.”
The awe, the heat in his voice, sent another shiver through me.
“Well, I can go find that sweater if you want.”
“Don’t you dare,” he growled, his mouth tugging up into a salacious grin. “Please, stay just like that.” He walked over to me, pulled his phone out, and snapped a selfie of us, smiling like we weren’t strangers. Then he snapped another of him kissing my cheek. “Ready?”
I nodded. “Where are we going?”
Casey smiled and put my hand in his to guide me to the car. He moved in slow, deliberate moves as he reached for the seat belt and tugged it across my body, fingertips brushing my collarbone, my breast.
“There.” He pulled back with a wink, closed the door and jogged around the front of the car.
“So fucking gorgeous.” He really was too beautiful, and effortlessly so. His hair was perfectly mussed, his blue eyes bright and clear, his clothes hung perfectly on his frame.
And his smiles came so easy. It would be easy to fall for him. Again.
“So, where are we going?”
Casey laughed. “Always so impatient.”
I frowned at his words even though there was no heat in them, just affection. “Am I?”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. On our wedding day, you found me because you wanted one more kiss as an unmarried couple who loved each other. You said you wanted to see if we kissed differently once we were hitched.”
I smiled at the way he smiled as he told the story. “Was it different?”
Casey started the car and we hit the road to our unnamed destination. “Yes and no. Kissing you is one of my favorite things and it was a familiar, hot kiss. But it felt different, more intense or heavier or something because we were married. You were mine and I was yours.”
I hung on his every word, eager to learn more about this couple so in love with one another. “Wasn’t that always the case?”
