But there had been one Christmas break when he was in seventh grade that completely changed their relationship forever. It was part of the reason he still felt so distant from his mother. The experience left him feeling like a part-time son in a part-time family.
Alaina might not have ever gone to Colorado, but he sure as hell had.
He had come home from break, excited for the plans he had made with his mother over the school year. They were supposed to go skiing in Colorado. It was going to be a winter wonderland filled with snow, hot chocolate and sports.
They had gone to Colorado. But Courtney had brought a nanny along for the ride. As well as her boyfriend. She’d enrolled Porter in a snow camp for the day and the nanny entertained him at night while Courtney wined and dined. He’d even discovered she planned the whole trip around her meet-up with the guy. Porter had felt completely let down. He’d wanted to spend time with his mother. Even as a teen, he’d been seeking that connection. But it was on that trip that he’d realized it would never happen. If he wanted a family of his own, he would have to create it himself.
Shoving the memory aside, Porter stood over the crib. Thomas snoozed, breathing light little breaths. He was so peaceful.
It would be different for Thomas. Porter and Alaina would figure out how to be around each other. They would move past the temporary truce they’d erected before the accident and live as a family. Alaina seemed to feel their connection as much as he did. Even if she regained her memories, surely she would forgive the past and stay this time. And they both already felt so bonded to their son.
A muted knock sounded from behind him. Porter wheeled around to see Alaina standing in the doorway. She’d already changed for bed. She was in a racerback tank top that showed off her ample curves. The black shorts hugged her legs, inching up her strong thighs. His gaze lingered on her smiling face.
“Hey. You know, today was pretty amazing. Maybe you’re not so terrible at that romance thing.” Her voice was low, but playful. Almost like the Alaina he had first fallen in love with. He ached to grab her, to draw her into his arms.
“Well, I only know how to go big or go home.”
“Today was great. All the things we found for Thomas. You bringing the decorations out for us tonight. Trying to get our own holiday traditions started. It was sweet and it meant a lot to me.” She stepped close to him. Just barely out of reach.
Close enough that the coconut scent of her shampoo teased his senses. Close enough that he ached to pull her to him and take her to bed. Patience be damned. But there was too much at stake. Keeping them together. Keeping her happy. Keeping her.
He forced himself to measure his words.
“I want us to be a family.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from grabbing her and saying to hell with talking. “And I think your idea of a shrimp boil is a great follow-up to what we did tonight. We are a team. Input from both of us matters.”
“I think so, too. The time we’re spending here is helping.” She paused, her beautiful blue eyes glazing over with her attempt at looking inward. “I also vaguely recall making the painting I gave you. I can see it in my mind. It’s a bit fuzzy, but I can remember the colors I used, the brushes...”
Memories. He should be rejoicing. And he was glad for her, but he couldn’t stop the impending sense of doom. What would happen when she remembered all the mistakes he’d made? When she realized those were the questions he had avoided answering?
“It’s great that you’re starting to remember. I love your paintings. Your colors. I can’t wait for you to re-see our house in Tallahassee.”
He just prayed they could mend their marriage—their family—before the rest came rolling in. The bad parts. The possible divorce.
And God—that sucker punched him. The stakes were higher than ever. They had a child now and Porter felt he was getting to know Alaina all over again.
“What other kinds of things did you give me over the years? You know, aside from a beautiful beach house?” Leaning over the crib, she rearranged the baby blanket.
“The humanities, art specifically, is clearly important to you. In Tallahassee, you’re extremely active in the Art Association. And you wanted elementary school kids to be exposed to art. So I started a scholarship program in your name that brings artists into the classroom.”
“Porter, that’s so generous of you. I don’t know what to say.”
Her face flushed with such gratitude he felt guilty for keeping other facts from her. Facts about their marriage. But he was focused on the bigger picture, a long-term answer for them. Their future as a family. She would see that, if she suddenly remembered everything. She had to.
“You don’t have to thank me, Alaina. You deserve it. And the program has been a success. The kids really benefit from it.”
She looked at him them. Really and truly looked at him. He held her gaze, reading the warmth in her sky-blue eyes. The eyes of his wife and the eyes of a stranger at the same time.
Thomas began to stir, making little clucking noises. Poor guy. They were disturbing his much-needed sleep.
“I think we might be too loud.”
“I guess that’s our cue. We’ve got to let sleeping babies sleep.” He took the monitor so he could give it to the matronly night nurse. “Besides, there is one more surprise for you. But it’s back downstairs.”
* * *
Alaina followed him back down the stairs and into the family room. They didn’t bother with the actual light, but chose to sit beneath the glow of the Christmas tree.
“Close your eyes.” His whisper tickled her ear. She let her eyes flit shut. A box was placed gently in her lap.
“All right. You can open them. And the present.” Porter sat across from her, on the ground. Eyeing the box, she tore into the perfectly wrapped package. She lifted the flap.
And gasped in delight and breathed in the scent. Her soul sang.
Canvas paper. Acrylic paint. Oil paint. Chalk. Paintbrushes and sketching pencils. Everything she needed for a quick art set.
“Oh, Porter. You didn’t have to... I mean...you could have waited for Christmas...” Her voice hitched in her throat. Emotions pulsed. Her breathing sped up in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to pour out her emotions on the page.
He cupped her shoulders. “I’m a pretty simple guy. I want my family to have what they want. What they need. And I thought it would be a good outlet for you. I think this is the longest you’ve ever gone without some creative project.”
In the deepest part of her being, she was truly touched. He had been trying so hard to connect with her. To do things to make her feel more comfortable. Even if their life before the accident hadn’t been perfect, the man before her now was putting in a real effort.
“Porter, it’s perfect. Thank you.” She grabbed his hand, beginning to feel as if she knew the texture and feel of him. He tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Of course.”
“Can I ask another question?”
“Always.”
“How did we decide on the name Thomas?” It had been her father’s name. She hoped that had been the reason, but she didn’t trust much about her instincts these days. A pang of sorrow shot through her. Her father would never know her son. She took a shaky breath. His loss felt so recent.
Porter inched toward her. They were side by side. His shoulder brushed hers and she leaned into him. Breathed in the dark clove scent of his cologne.
“We