by Sosie Frost
“Sure thing.” Shepard padded the sides and made space for the baby. “What is Her Highness’s name today?”
“I’ve tried a couple. Abby. Tasha. Martha.”
“And?”
“Still Clue.” I smiled as she rested on my arm. The water soothed her, and Clue closed her eyes. “She doesn’t mind the nickname.”
“You’re doing a good job.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You aren’t covered in the unmentionable.”
“That…stain? That’s just her residual cuteness.”
“Her cuteness has one hell of a range.”
He handed me her soap and watched as I massaged the suds into her dark hair. “Once you’re done, I’ll put her down for you. You go hop in the shower.”
“I can do it.”
“I’m starving.” He helped to trickle water over Clue’s toes. “Let me wrangle the kid. You relax in the shower. Then we’ll eat.”
Was it that easy? That comforting? He promised me a shower, and it was like a gift I never knew I wanted.
“I wonder if this is how it would feel.” I instantly regretted speaking.
“How what would feel?”
I sighed. “If I had…no. Never mind. It’s dumb.”
Shepard didn’t look away. “Tell me.”
“If Clue and I had our family.”
I squirted a healthy amount of soap on my hands and aimed for her pudgy little cheeks and fingers, toes and rolls. Too bad I couldn’t scrub those dark thoughts out of my head.
“It’d be like this…” I said. “Dinner would be ready. Someone could tuck her in. I’d have a chance to get a shower. We’d be a family.”
Shepard held out Clue’s bath towel—grey, fuzzy, and with a hood that gave her bunny ears. He spoke with a confidence I envied.
“You are her family, Evie. And she’s yours. You two will never be alone.”
“Okay.” I pulled her out of the water and bundled her up. “You say that now. But tell me? Did you find anything? Someone who reported their wife missing. Someone who wondered about a lost pregnant girlfriend?” I quieted. “Tell me someone is out there searching.”
Shepard was quiet. I arched an eyebrow.
“You’re a bad fairy godmother, Detective Novak.”
“Good. I’m trying to be Prince Charming.”
“I don’t need a dragon slayed. I just want to know if someone is missing me.”
“A man would have to be crazy if he didn’t miss you.” Shepard tugged on Clue’s towel, wrapping her tighter before taking her from my arms. “And he’d do crazy things to find you.”
“This is where you ask me to be patient.”
“And this is where you refuse to listen.”
“What would you do?” I asked.
He studied the baby—her little pudgy cheeks and closed eyes, snuggled so tiny and safe in his arms.
“I’d turn over every rock, search every street, call in every favor. I wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t give up until I found you.”
My words quieted, soft and tentative. “I meant…if you were me.”
“Oh.” Shepard sheepishly smiled. “I’d get a shower and enjoy a couple minutes of peace before dinner.”
“You have a way with the ladies, don’t you?”
“I can give ‘em what they need.”
“A shower and a nap?”
“A quiet house.”
“You’ll watch the baby?”
“Absolutely. And as a bonus…” He lowered his voice and licked his bottom lip. “I also do dishes.”
“I love it when you talk clean to me.” I edged towards the bathroom, but I pointed to Clue. “You know how to diaper and dress a baby?”
“I’m also certified in infant CPR if you’re worried.”
“I wasn’t until you said it.”
I squeezed Clue’s hand and hurried to the bedroom, picking out a new pair of clothes without bothering to ensure the socks matched. Why waste time when I had a freebie shower beckoning me?
The water steamed, hot and perfect. I didn’t wait for it to adjust before jumping into the stream. Cold or scalding, it didn’t matter. My arms freed from the baby, aching the new mommy muscles of my biceps and triceps. I cleansed my body of everything sticky and listened only to the quiet pitter-padder of the water.
It was Heaven.
But the quiet wasn’t as comforting as I imagined it. Sure, Clue had settled, and Shepard wasn’t shouting for me. Everything seemed okay.
But anyone could put a diaper on a baby—even I had learned how. Dressing one was a little harder. She tended to flop around a lot, and sneaking the shirt over her head could be tricky. But Shepard was a detective. He could deduce his way into a solution.
But putting her down? In the crib?
My heart nearly shattered.
I pulled the shower curtain aside and called for him. “Shepard!”
The memory nearly cracked my head off the tile.
The shower curtain tugged back. A brush of cold air teased over my hips.
I dropped the washcloth into a puddle of suds at my feet.
“Go on…” He whispered with a wolfish growl. “Pick it up.”
“You get it for me.”
“With pleasure.”
I squealed as his suit jacket struck the floor. He didn’t bother with the rest of clothes. I backed into the wall, soapy and overheated, panting with a waiting breath as he knelt at my feet. The washcloth teased over my feet, my ankle, along the delicate curve of my calf, and finally to the supple swell of my thigh. He passed it near the crest of my legs, chuckling as it teased a part of me aching for more than the warmth of the water.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” I whispered.
“It never felt like home until you came.” His words muffled against my skin. “Promise me you’ll never leave.”
“Only if you never stop.”
His tongue flicked out. I gasped.
“Deal.”
“Evie?”
The door cracked open, and the memory vanished.
Not into a fog this time.
No.
Into a pool. A puddle. A wash of heat that raced from my toes to my lips, parting them in a quiet breath, tingling ache, and ravishing delight.
I exhaled. It didn’t help. My head dizzied in the memory. I gripped the wall.
“Everything okay?” Shepard called.
“Y—yeah.” Did my voice sound as husky as I thought? My mind blanked, and the only images that remained were wicked, immoral moments of pleasure. “Make sure you put the baby to sleep on her back.”
He sounded amused. “I know.”
“No blankets near her face.”
“I know.”
“You might have to rock her a bit.”
“She’s already out, Evie.”
I sighed. So was I. I flipped off the water. “Good. I’ll be done in a second.”
“You can take a little longer if you want.”
And melt? No way. “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll set some bowls out.”
The door closed. The memories swirled in the steam.
That settled it.
Someone had to be out there searching for me. The memory was too vivid, too layered in pleasure, desire, and affection for me to be completely alone.
He was real.
So why hadn’t he found me yet?
I dried off and dressed, checking on Clue before heading to the kitchen. Shepard made a good swaddle, and he’d tucked her into the crib without a single wrinkle to her onesie. I snuck out of the nursery and let her sleep. It wouldn’t last long, maybe only two hours, but it was enough.
The steaming soup beckoned me. He served it with a hunk of bread and a glass of iced tea.
“It’s nothing fancy,” he said. “Just something quick. But we have to start somewhere, right?”
We.
“I suppose so.”
“Take a bite.”
The soup smelled strongly of pe
pper, but the first sip warmed me in liquid comfort. I’d needed a hearty and soothing meal. The broth was strong, and the rice hadn’t congealed into a total lump of mush.
He did well.
“So?” He watched me eat, studying my every reaction. “Any memories?”
Oh, I had remembered something quite vivid. Nothing polite for dinner conversation.
I shrugged. “It’s very good soup.”
“Nothing coming to you?” He sat back, picking at his bread but not eating. “Damn. I hoped that’d work. There’s nothing you remember?”
“Well…I’m getting bits and pieces here and there.”
That interested him. “Like what?”
“Nothing that would help the investigation.”
“You don’t know that.” Shepard’s eyes flashed with a quick determination. “Tell me what you remembered. All of it.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
I bit my lip. “Why?”
“Anything you offer can help me narrow down where I should be looking for your past. A street. A person. A car. The smallest detail tells a hundred stories.”
“Yeah…not this one.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” I tapped the spoon on the rim of the bowl. “It had to do with me in the shower.”
“That’s fine. Where was the shower? At your house? What did it look like?”
“Like a shower.”
“Work with me.”
“This is a memory, Shepard. Not a letter to Penthouse.”
His eyebrow quirked. “Oh, now I see.”
I threatened him with my bread. “No comments.”
“So it was a good memory.”
I nodded towards Clue’s bedroom. “I have a newborn. I suspect I’ve had many good memories.”
“Well, she is good evidence for an…exciting past.”
Maybe. That remained to be seen. “Know what my psychologist says?”
“Please stop berating me, I’m just doing my job?”
“Doctor Clark says that I’m trying to hide my past. That I don’t want to remember.”
“Even the good parts?”
“Especially the good parts.”
Shepard’s eyebrows rose. “Doesn’t sound like you.”
I stirred the soup. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a reason I don’t want to remember. Maybe I did something in my past that isn’t worth remembering.”
Shepard grinned. “Like what? What do you think you’re capable of doing?”
“Who knows? Maybe…I was some sort of secret agent.”
“Oh, yes.” Shepard slurped his soup. “Code Name: Placenta.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I was part of some sort of governmental cover-up. I did my job, and then they just—whoop. Wiped my brain.”
“And left you pregnant?”
“Poor Clue can never know she’s actually part Martian.”
“Martian?”
“Explains why she’s paler than me.”
Shepard laughed. “I would love it if you told the psychologist this hypothetical past.”
“Oh really?” I feigned insult. “Fine. Maybe I wasn’t part of the government. Maybe I was a…runaway.”
“And why would you run away?”
“To join the circus.”
“You know, I never checked the carnies in the area for any information.”
“If you had, you’d have learned that I lost my memory in a tragic trapeze related incident.”
“Trapeze?”
“Would you prefer lion tamer?”
“Let me get you a whip.” He smirked. “See if it sparks a memory.”
“You joke, but I just might be the best contortionist in the world. I bet I could have fit my legs behind my head and did fancy splits and settled into all sorts of entertaining positions before the baby.” I bit the spoon. “Doubt me, and you might never get to see them.”
“I’d hate to miss that show.” He leaned against the chair. “And where’s Clue fit into this?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked. “World’s smallest person.”
“Of course.”
I pushed the rice around the bowl. “Maybe I was a flight attendant, and I’m stuck in a completely different city.”
“I bet they would have complained if you didn’t show up for the return trip.”
“Didn’t say I was a good flight attendant.” I laughed. “Hell, three weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to fit down the aisle.”
“Good point.”
“Maybe I was visiting college friends.” I shook my head. “No. They should have reported me gone. Maybe it was my own little spiritual journey—see the entire United States before the baby came. A mini-vacation, and I got stuck?”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe I had no one.”
“Evie.”
“Maybe I ruined things with my baby’s father. Maybe I didn’t have friends or family. Maybe I am completely and totally alone.” I swallowed. “And that’s why I don’t want to remember—I have nothing to remember.”
The baby started to cry. I sighed and stood, taking my half-eaten bowl of soup with me to the kitchen. Shepard followed, calling my name.
“Evie, stop. I’m going to help you remember. We’ll work through this. Don’t get worried—”
“I’m trying to stay positive—”
I spun, not realizing how close he was. The bowl pitched from my hands and the soup splattered onto his shirt. I apologized as a spoonful of rice plopped onto his shoe.
“I’m sorry!” I reached for the dish rag at the same time as he did, bumping into his chest and knocking the top of my head into his chin.
Shepard hissed, launched back, and held his hands out.
“Assaulting a police officer…” He wagged a finger. “I could haul you in for that.”
I held my wrists out. “Handcuff me then.”
“I would…” He grinned. “I should. But knowing you? A slap on the wrist would bring out more of those good memories.”
“You think you know me that well?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well…at least one of us does.” I handed him a dish towel. “Sorry about the soup.”
“Check on Clue. I’ll wring my dinner out.”
I hurried to her crib, but she only needed a bit of reassurance. A pat on the belly and a reswaddled blanket soothed her, and she was out just as quickly as she woke.
What perfect timing to save her momma from those dark thoughts.
“Thank you, Clue.” I whispered. “You’re very helpful.”
If she were awake, I think she might have appreciated the compliment.
She deserved better than a momma freaking out about being alone. We had each other. I’d be strong for the both of us. I’d promised her the day I brought her to our home-away-from-our-real-home that I’d take care of her.
But it was nice to have someone else there.
Someone making dinner. Putting her to bed.
Actually responding to me when I made sing-song noises.
Was it possible to miss something I didn’t remember having?
Was it possible not to want more of that…comfort?
I tip-toed from her room and returned to the kitchen. I once thought the nurse handing me a baby would be the greatest shock of my current existence.
Nope.
It was Shepard, rinsing his shirt out in the sink.
His broad back lined with lean muscle, and his arms bulged as he wrung out the moisture from the material. His skin was tanned, but he was pale, especially compared to me.
A woman should have been prepared with a fainting couch to catch her unsuspecting, exhausted, and overwhelmed butt when she fell back to watch the show.
Shepard turned, casting the wet shirt over his shoulder with sigh. “I think it's ruined.”
Now it was ruined? How the hell had he slid the shirt over his thick shoulders and pecs without stretching the material? His
abs should have shredded the cloth.
I blamed the fatigue on my staring, the hunger on not speaking, and my own idiocy for not turning away. Instead, my gaze tracked down, over his tight abs and to the hint of a V peeking from the waistband of his pants.
The soup had splotched him in a very unfortunate spot. “I spilled a little on your slacks too.”
“Don’t try to get me out of my pants for some soup.” Shepard winked. “Wait until I buy you a steak dinner at least.”
“You’re very funny.” I moistened a paper towel and offered it to him, pointing to the spot on his knee. “But I’ll require a lobster dinner for that, thank you very much.”
“Can’t.” Shepard dabbed his leg. “You’re allergic to shellfish.”
“What?”
“What if you’re allergic to shellfish? You don’t know if that’s safe. Hell, just having peanut butter in the house could be a death trap.”
I tossed a towel at him. “Way to scare me.”
“It’s safer if you have me over anytime you want to try a new meal. Just to keep an eye on you.”
I crossed my arms. “Right. Wouldn’t want to go into shock if I suck on a shrimp.”
“Protect and serve, Evie.”
“Well, I’m glad I have you in case I trip over the blue line and fall face-first into a pile of tree nuts.”
“I hope I’m there if you fall face-first into any type of nut.”
I whacked him with an opened palm. My fingers tickled over the hardened muscles of his arm. “You think you’re clever, Detective.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You think you’re just a walking, talking hero.”
“I’ve been called worse things.”
“And you think you’re cute.”
“No.” He was quick to correct me. “You think I’m cute.”
And I wasn’t going to admit it. “I’ve seen better.”
He edged closer. “Any you remember?”
“I thought you were supposed to help me with that.”
“What about that good memory you had today? Remember any faces there?”
My heart thudded a little too hard. I shouldn’t have stepped closer to him, shouldn’t have taken his challenge. “I didn’t actually see his…face.”
“Why?”
I licked my lip. “Let’s just say the angle wasn’t right.”
“Concentrate a little harder. Maybe you’ll remember something else you liked.”
My breathing shallowed. “I really wasn’t focusing on anything during that moment.”
