Billionaire's Contract Engagement(49)
He set the bags on the island countertop and started unpacking them. It looked as though he had picked up the basics. Milk, eggs, bread, a gallon of orange juice, as well as two bags full of fresh fruits and vegetables.
"I didn't know what they were when I found them," she said, stepping around to put the perishables in the fridge. "I was pretty surprised when I put the first one in."
One brow rose. "The first one?"
God, she made it sound as if she had been sitting there watching them all day.
"The only one," she lied, but it was obvious he wasn't buying it. Probably because he'd seen the DVDs strewn out on the coffee table.
"Okay, maybe I watched two … "
Up the brow went again.
" … and a half. It would have been three if I'd finished the one I was watching when you walked in."
He seemed to find her discomfort amusing. "Mel, watch as many as you like."
She wondered if he really meant that. "It doesn't. bother you?"
"Why would it?" he asked, looking very unbothered.
"Because you're in them, and they're very. personal."
He gave her a weird look. "You're in them, too."
"Yeah, but … it doesn't seem like me. It's like I'm watching someone else do all those things."
"Take my word for it, it was definitely you." He emptied the last of the bags so she balled them up, shoving one inside the other, and tossed them in the recycling bin under the sink.
"So," she said, turning to him. "The shower one is your favorite?"
He grinned and nodded, and she wondered if she could talk him into re-creating it someday soon. It only seemed fair, seeing as how she could no longer remember doing it.
"It was mine, too," she said.
"Why do you suppose that is?"
"I guess because it seemed more … real."
That brow rose again. "Are you suggesting that in the others you were faking it?"
"No! Of course not," she said, but realized, maybe she had been. The first two had been lacking something. They seemed almost … staged. As if she had been putting on a show for the camera. And there was no denying that, now at least, the hot sex and dirty talk didn't do half as much for her as watching them make love.
Had she been faking it in those first two?
"You look as though you're working something through," Ash said. He was standing with his arms folded, hip wedged against the counter. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Were you faking it?"
She hoped not. What was the point of even having sex if she wasn't going to enjoy it? "Even if I was, I wouldn't remember. Would I?"
"That's awfully convenient."
She frowned. "No. It isn't. Not for me."
"Sorry." He reached out and touched her arm. "I didn't mean it like that."
She knew that. He was only teasing and she was being too touchy. She forced a smile. "I know you didn't. Don't worry about it." She grabbed the last of the items on the counter, opened the pantry and put them away.
Ask looked at his watch. "Damn, it's getting late, I have to get back. Thanks for helping put away-" He frowned and said, "Wait a minute."
He walked to the fridge and opened it, scanning the inside, all the drawers and compartments, as if he'd forgotten something, then he closed the refrigerator door and looked in the cabinet under the kitchen sink. He did the same thing to the pantry, then he turned to her and asked, "Do you realize what you just did?"
Considering the look on his face, it couldn't have been good. "No. Did I put everything in the wrong place or something?"
"No. Mel, you put everything in the right place."
"I did?" She wanted to believe it was significant, but at the same time she didn't want to get her hopes up. "Maybe it was a coincidence?"
"I don't think so. When it comes to your kitchen you're almost fanatical about keeping things tidy and organized. Everything in there is on the correct shelf, or in the right drawer. You even put the bags in the recycling bin when we were done and I don't recall telling you it was even there."
He was right. She hadn't even thought about putting them there, she just did it. Just like the law stuff. It just came to her naturally, by doing and not thinking.
Her heart started to beat faster and happiness welled up, putting a huge lump in her throat. "You think I'm remembering?"
"I think you are."
She squealed and threw herself into his arms, hugging him tight, feeling so happy she could burst. She realized, especially after watching those DVDs, just how many things she wanted to remember.
She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. It felt so good to be close to him. Even if he wasn't hugging her back as hard as she was hugging him. "Do you think it was the DVDs? Maybe watching them made me remember the other things?"
"Maybe."
She smiled up at him. "Well, then, maybe the real thing would work even better."
He got that stern look and she quickly backpedaled. "I know, I know. I'm not ready. Yet. It was just … an observation. For when I am ready." Which she was thinking might be sooner than they both expected.
He smoothed her hair back from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I think, when your brain is ready to remember things, it will. I don't think you can rush it. Every time you've remembered something it's been when you weren't thinking about it. Right?"
She nodded.
"So just relax and let it happen naturally." He looked at his watch, gave her one last kiss on the forehead, and said, "Now I really have to go."
She was disappointed, but didn't let it show. "Thanks for bringing the groceries. I suppose I should think about making something for dinner."
"Don't worry about feeding me. I'll probably be home late. I have a lot of work to catch up on."
Which was her fault, so she couldn't exactly complain. She walked him to the elevator instead, watching until he stepped inside and the doors closed.
This time it was definitely not her imagination. Knowing that she was remembering things troubled him for some reason, and the only reason she could come up with was that there was something that he didn't want her to remember. But she had no clue why, or what it could be. She thought about the money that she'd stashed in the pocket of one of the jackets in her closet. Was that the key to all of this?
She decided that if she had any more epiphanies or memory breakthroughs it would be best, for the time being anyway, to keep them to herself.
Nine
Ash took Friday morning off so he could take Mel to her appointment with her new neurologist. She had offered to have Ash drop her off and pick her up when she was finished, so he wouldn't miss more work, but the truth was he wanted to be there to hear what the doctor had to say.
It had been eerie the other day, watching her put the groceries away, only to realize that, right before his eyes, she was becoming herself again. She was remembering, no matter how small and insignificant a memory it had been. The point was, it was happening, and he wasn't sure he was ready.
Although since then, she hadn't mentioned remembering anything new. Not that he'd been around to witness it himself. Work had kept him at the office until almost midnight the past three days so he and Mel had barely seen each other.
The doctor gave her a thorough neurological exam asked a couple dozen questions, and seemed impressed by her progress. He suggested that she slowly begin adding more physical activities back to her daily regimen. Mel glanced over at Ash, and he knew exactly the sort of physical activities she was thinking of. And he knew, the second she opened her mouth, what she was going to say.
"What about sex?" she asked.
The doctor looked down at the chart, a slight frown crinkling his brow, and for one terrifying instant Ash thought he was going to mention the miscarriage. Had Dr. Nelson warned him not to say anything? Finding out about the baby now would ruin everything.
"I see no reason why you shouldn't engage in sexual activity," he said, then added with a smile. "I would caution against anything too vigorous at first. Just take it slow and do what you're comfortable with. I also suggest walking."
"I've been doing that. We live right by the water so I've been taking walks on the shore."
"That's good. Just don't overdo it. Start at ten or fifteen minutes a day and gradually work your way up." He closed her file. "Well, everything looks good. If you have any problems, call me. Otherwise, I won't need to see you back for three months."
"That's it?" Mel asked. "We're really done?"
The doctor smiled. "At this point there isn't much I can do. But only because Dr. Nelson took very good care of you."