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“To spend every Thursday night with my beautiful wife in my arms? Easy decision. Especially when we always ended up naked after class.” He gave a little wiggle of his eyebrows and I laughed. “My favorite part of those Thursdays?”
The sex. I crossed my arms. “Yeah?”
“Eating takeout in bed afterwards, fighting over cooking shows or sports on the TV.”
His words couldn’t have shocked me more. My shoulders shook with laughter, and after that Casey seemed more relaxed than he had over the past few days. His broad shoulders seemed to hold a little less tension and his easy smiles came even easier.
When we hit the dance floor the second time around, Casey did pull me close and twirled me all around the wooden surface. “How can you line dance in those shoes?”
I looked around and noticed the other women wearing cowgirl boots. “I wondered why I had two pairs in my closet. Seemed like a strange thing to have in Oregon.”
“We’re eclectic here, from cowboys to city dwellers, salsa dancers to break dancers.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is,” he assured me with a serious expression. “We have a good life, Megan. A damn good life.”
By the time we finished dinner, surf and turf, and laughed through the entire meal, I believed Casey. It seemed we got along well, flirted a lot for married people, and had a good time together. It seemed too good to be true—and I wanted it.
More importantly, I wanted to remember this life that seemed so great. I wanted to remember how I fell in love with such a wonderful man and got him to love me back.
“Thank you, Casey. This was a good date. The best one I can remember.” It was strange to stand on the doorstep of a house we lived in together and say those words, but I needed him to know.
His lips kicked up into a crooked grin at my joke and I was grateful. “That means I’m already hitting it out of the park.”
“A lot to live up to,” I shot back playfully.
The date it was over. It was time to go upstairs, take off the sexy dress and prepare for whatever came next.
Except Casey was right behind me. The heat of him, his masculine scent wrapped around me like a caress and my legs wobbled as I made my way up the stairs.
I pushed open the bedroom door and froze. Did he expect sex tonight? I turned to face him and the smile on his face made my heart skip a beat. “Casey?”
His smile was gentle, but sexy enough to force me to tighten my thighs against the wave of arousal that crashed over me. “I had a good time tonight, Megs. A damn good time.” His voice was rough and scratchy, full of emotion as he stepped in close and cupped my face in his big hands.
Then his mouth was on mine and I felt both lost and found. His mouth was familiar, but I couldn’t say why. His taste triggered a flash of a memory: us laughing together on a patch of grass. It could have been a park or a backyard, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care as the kiss heated up. Intensified. The kiss was hotter than sin and I wrapped my arms around Casey and pressed our bodies close together.
He was hard, and the realization sent my heartbeat soaring as I pushed my hips forward, just a little. Casey’s kiss stole my breath and knocked me on my ass, and it ended way too soon.
“Hell,” I moaned when he pulled back.
“Good night, Megs. Sweet dreams.” Casey shoved his hands in his pockets, turned, and walked down the hall toward the guestroom as if he hadn’t just kissed the hell out of me.
I turned back to the room and the bed we usually shared, and closed the door behind me, stunned by the force of that kiss. Aroused by the heat coursing through my veins, and the thought of doing more than just kissing my own husband.
Casey
Standing back as an observer in an exam room just felt wrong. I was a doctor, more than qualified to examine my own wife, more than qualified to come up with a treatment plan to help recover her memories. But conflicts and ethics had sidelined me, so I stood back, leaning against the door while my friend and mentor, Dr. Sam Reynolds, examined Megan.
She was all smiles with Sam. Relaxed even though he was just as a big a stranger as I was at this point, which made me wonder if there was another reason she couldn’t completely relax around me.
It was another thought I didn’t have the time or mental space to process at the moment, so I turned my attention back to Sam and Megan.
“The good news, Megan, is that there’s no evidence of any physical injuries to point to your memory loss.” Sam spoke to my wife, but he cast the occasional sympathetic look my way.
