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What Eddie didn’t know was that Vic intended to do whatever was best for Aubrey, and damn the consequences. If that meant going against Eddie’s wishes, so be it.
“Have they killed each other yet?” Mary set the piping-hot casserole dish on a hot pad on the dining room table.
“Not yet.” Aubrey backed away from the window before one or both men spotted her. So far she’d witnessed puffed chests and the swigging of beers. They weren’t making eye contact. Dad was staring down at the smoking steaks like if he didn’t watch the grill they might up and run for the Texas hills. Meanwhile, Vic was studying the sunset like it was his last before he went to live in an underground bunker.
“Dad sure can hold a grudge,” she murmured as she joined her mother in the dining room.
“Your father has his reasons.” Mary gave her daughter a pointed look as she fished silverware from the china hutch drawer.
Aubrey guessed her father’s reasons were ones she should know, but there was a big empty space whenever she tried to remember why he didn’t approve of Vic. Aubrey was his little girl, and he was as protective as usual, but her father’s glower seemed to go beyond that reason.
“Steaks.” Vic swaggered by and delivered the platter to the table. Aubrey’s mouth watered, but it wasn’t the steaks causing her to drool. It was him. The solid, sturdy build, the thick dark hair she’d recently run her fingers through. A flash of the sexy night they’d spent together fired every last one of her cylinders. Him sliding deep inside her, those dark eyes fastened on hers... “Hungry?”
She blinked him into focus and lifted one eyebrow. “Starving.” She didn’t mean for dinner and held his gaze long enough to communicate as much. Vic offered a sideways smirk, but it died the second Eddie stepped into the house.
“Let’s eat,” Eddie said.
Dinner was blessedly uneventful, with small talk about anything and everything not having to do with Vic or Aubrey. Dad talked about sports and Mom about her book club. When the topic of the Texas Cattleman’s Club pool party came up, her father quickly changed the subject. Aubrey didn’t have the foggiest memory of the chili cook-off.
“Was the winner announced or did I ruin the contest?” she’d asked. The table had fallen silent, the scraping of knives and forks on plates halting at her question. “Who has the best chili in Royal, Texas, anyway?” She’d taken a bite of her steak and chewed, preferring to treat this odd circumstance as run-of-the-mill, but she hadn’t received an answer.
“This is very frustrating,” she told Vic now. They’d finished their dinners, and her mother had refused her offer to help with the dishes.
Aubrey and Vic walked down the long, winding driveway side by side, the crunching of gravel underfoot interspersed with crickets sawing away in the tall grass. “I don’t see why no one can give me a summary of events.”
“Are you a doctor now?” Vic came to a halt and faced her, his silhouette grainy in the dark and backlit by the moon. Even in low light, he was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. “Patience used to be a strong suit of yours, Aub.”
“I want to remember. I need to remember.”
“You will,” he said with enough authority that she believed him. As if her amnesia was nothing more than a blip on the radar of an otherwise normal life. That soon she’d be driving, playing brightly colored games on her cell phone and returning to work. She missed her normal life. She loved teaching more than anything, and not having the comfort of her routine—even one she couldn’t remember every detail of—was difficult.
He started walking again, bypassing his truck rather than climbing into it. She was fine with prolonging the evening, though she wished they had more privacy. Dad was probably peeking out the window at them right now.
Vic clasped her hand, and she wove her fingers with his, the warmth of his touch going a long way to making her feel better. “Enjoy the moment. That’s all you have to do. Live your life until your memory returns.”
“I have one very vivid memory of us from the other night.” She squeezed his hand.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm. The night before my accident. My bedroom. You taking my clothes off and running your tongue over every part of my body. You were starved for me, Vic, like it was the last time we’d be together. It was hot.”
She didn’t miss when his arm stiffened against hers.
“Don’t worry, we’re far enough from the house they can’t hear. I don’t understand why we couldn’t lie and say we’re going out for ice cream and then sneak into my apartment for a quickie, do you?” She certainly wasn’t incapable of physical affection. She could walk, talk, recite her favorite Walt Whitman poem. She was missing a few measly pieces from her past, that was all.
“Sex is, not, um...” Vic swiped his brow, looking uncharacteristically nervous. He wasn’t shy. Not at all. He knew what she liked and delivered each and every time. Well, the times she could remember. “Your health is more important.”
“Sex is very healthy.” She leaned against his arm, relieved to hear his soft laugh in the dark.
“I know, honey. It does us a world of good. But I beg of you, stop reminding me what I’m missing out on when I’m trying to be noble.”
“Nobility from Vic Grandin.” She sighed, defeated. “I don’t like it.”
His grin literally weakened her knees. She clutched his hand tighter. What she wouldn’t give to have him naked and next to her tonight. “Can I at least have a kiss?”
“When did you turn into a siren?”
“I don’t recall you complaining in the past.”
