Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Wynter
T he past week has been amazing. Scott has wined and dined me, without the wine. He has shown me a glimpse of what our life looks like and how we live. Tonight, we’re having a bonfire and cookout at his house, our house, with our friends. He has even invited Nurse Nancy.
Sitting at the kitchen table with Vanessa, Ali, Jessica, and Nancy, I chop up vegetables to throw on the grill. Instead of waking up each day with a sense of dread and the unknown, I now wake up with a purpose, and the only purpose I have is to live. I refuse to let life go on without me. I’ve recollected more every day, mostly inconsequential, but the memories give me hope that I’ll remember everything eventually.
“So, Scott told Beau that you two have kissed several times.”
“He’s a great kisser. And his voice makes my panties disintegrate. So smooth with just enough leather,” I can’t help but laugh.
“I’ve heard that a bout the Wilson brothers,” Nancy says.
Nancy has become a friend and honestly, I’ve told her more than anyone at this point. Maybe because she doesn’t know my past. She listens and offers advice based on the current situation, giving me the freedom to act however and not be worried about letting the girls down.
“You have?”
Nancy smirks with an aggressive shake of her head.
Ali agrees. “A colleague of mine hooked up with Major, and let’s just say she was wooed. Something about him being fire with gasoline thrown on top. I wouldn’t wait with Scott. I mean you’re married, and I’m sure he’s game.”
“It’s kind of fun to date again. From what I understand, we missed this part.”
Vanessa heckles, “That’s because you’ve been kissing each other since ninth grade. And we all ran around and hung out together.”
It saddens me that I can’t recall all the fun times we had together and whenever they slip up and say something about the past, sadness acts as a veil over their faces.
We take the veggies out, and the guys are talking about the opening weekend of Major League Baseball. Vanessa hands the bowl to Scott, who empties the vegetables on the other side of the grill, opposite the steaks.
Ali turns on her little Bluetooth speaker, then Jessica brings out cocktails, passing them out. “Yours is a virgin.”
I mumble, “I feel like a virgin, it’s been so long.”
Ali, who has no filter, says, “When’s the last time you remember having sex?”
Everyone leans in.
“I keep having this dream about having sex. Now I know it’s a memory because the couch and the pillows were in my dreams before Scott had even brought me here. Plus, I was pregnant and in the dream, and my baby belly isn’t too much smaller than it is now. So, it was within a couple of weeks of the accident. God, it was hot if it was half as good as my teasing dreams.”
Jessica claps in excitement.
Major says, “Okay, ladies, quit gossiping, and let’s eat.”
The guys drag beers from the Yeti cooler, as the women grab the utensils. Grilling goes in the plus column for Scott. The vegetable medley is slightly charred, and the steak is grilled to perfection. He cooks everyone else’s medium but cooks mine medium well. I’ve been reading baby books at night that say my meat should be cooked thoroughly. Baby comes first.
Afterwards, Scott builds a fire in the pit. We scoot the four chairs around to make room for more lawn chairs. Major breaks out his guitar, strumming and humming, and finally starts a ballad. He feels every word as pain strips his face of the laughter that was there just moments ago.
He takes requests, singing some old country songs, and we join in. I don’t know how I know the words to the songs, but my brain hasn’t forgotten. Scott and I hold hands. He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand repeatedly, and I have to admit, I want everyone to leave so I can have him to myself.
An hour later, Ali is sitting in Axel’s lap. Jessica and Maverick are dancing when Major ends one song and starts another.
“May I have this dance, my beautiful wife?” Scott asks as he stands and holds his palm out.
“Yes, but I may have to lean on you.”
“God put me on this earth to hold you up.”
I push off the Adirondack chair, and he eases me into his arms. The song is slow and right now just instrumental. Fire flickers in his eyes while sparks ignite in my core as he presses our bodies flush against each other. The ridge of his manhood grows against my stomach.
Major’s voice is like crushed velvet—smooth with the perfect amount of crackling as he sings, Forever After All , by Luke Combs. As Scott and I dance, there’s a cautious hope in his eyes. My eyes meet his, understanding the delicate balance of remembering and letting things unfold naturally. In my opinion, this is exactly the way a new relationship would progress.
The song taunts me as a memory flashes again when I’m on the beach in a white dress. Was this song playing?
But Scott distracts me when his fingers skate up my spine until he cups my face in his hands and whispers, “Stay the night.” Sweeping his thumb between my lips, I close my mouth around his thumb and gently suck.
We sway, not truly dancing because of my leg, then he kisses me. Neither of us realize his brother is no longer singing, or that everyone has left. I guess they wanted us to have a night alone. “I’ll stay. You can’t drive since you’ve been drinking.”
“I want you to stay because you want to. I can get your dad to pick you up if you want to go to your parents’ house.”
I peer into his eyes, dilated and dark so all that I can see is the fire in his eyes. And I feel the ache in my core. “I want to stay here with you.”
“Are you sure?”
I don’t get a chance to answer before our lips crash together. Desire takes over. He picks me up, never breaking our kiss, and manages to get us into the sunporch. Lying me on the couch, I look out the windows at the beautiful red and orange fire, romantically brightening the night.
He pushes my sundress above my baby bump as he kisses each rounded inch, then anchors me with his arm as he pulls the sundress over my head. Then suddenly, I can’t go slow. I rip his shirt over his head and throw it on the floor. Scott’s body is one to be admired—the way his abs and oblique muscles contour to form shadows.
Kissing my neck, he skims my collarbone with his fingers. I suck on his neck, grazing his sensitive skin with my teeth as he drops my bra straps onto my shoulders and with one hand, pops the clasp on the back. “Smooth, Mr. Wilson,” I tease.
“You’ve given me plenty of practice.”
I wish I could remember our practice sessions, but I want to be lost in the moment, not worried about what happened in the past. All I need to know is that Scott and I love each other, and we’re desperate for each other’s bodies.
“Hmmm,” I murmur, feeling the weight of forgotten moments between us and relishing the new moments we’re making. A memory travels at the speed of light of a head between my thighs. Still, I’m unable to see a face, but I’m sure its Scott based on his thick head of dark brown hair. Maybe these intimate moments will bring me one step closer to recovering all my memories. I smile as Scott moves his head to the same spot I’m recalling and presses his palms against my inner thighs.
I close my eyes, completely content with the long, lazy licks up and down my center. Pushing his fingers insid e me, he curls them, reaching a sensitive spot that has me shuddering. His fingers don’t plunge in and out; instead, his digits tease me crawling through my muscles.
“Yes,” I murmur. “I may keep you down there for the rest of my life.”
Popping his head up, I only see his eyes appear above my baby bump, so I try to lean up on my elbows.
“If it makes you feel good, I’ll do it every damn day.”
Then his lips wrap around my bundle of nerves and sucks me into his mouth. Pleasure strikes at my core as my legs shake and try to clamp around him. But is Scott satisfied? No. He uses his shoulders to keep my legs spread like an open buffet line at the Golden Corral.
As I shiver, trying to stave off the orgasm, I’m overcome as it hits me with the g-force of a fighter plane taking off. My head slops onto the thrown pillow, and I feel my arousal gushing onto his tongue. Scott licks every drop until I mumble, “God, I love you.”