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Authors: Shiloh Walker
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give him a tight smile.
She couldn’t tell if he bought it or not, but it didn’t matter.
She had herself back under control and that was what counted.
“Lily,” she murmured, nodding. That felt … right. Yet another thing that fit.
“I can remember some foods I like and I know I love magnolia trees.”
“You hate eggs and you can’t stand tuna fish,” Griffin offered.
She could believe it because even the mention of either made her want to gag. “You should make me a list.”
He smiled.
Turning her head, she found herself staring down the road toward the river. She could see it from here, the way it rolled lazily along and the sun reflected off it, sending a sliver of diamond bright light dancing across its surface. “I love the river, too. That’s why I got this place, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. That’s why you won’t sell me your houseboat, either.”
“My…” She stopped, a smile forming on her face. “A houseboat. I have to see it.”
“You remember that?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But I don’t have to.”
Absently, she glanced around and found her gaze lingering on the balcony across from her.
Her heart tugged. Ached .
A knot settled in her throat.
“What else do you remember?” Griffin asked, unaware of the quicksilver change in her emotions.
Softly, she murmured, “Brannon.” She opened her eyes and went back to staring at the balcony opposite hers. It was connected to a stately brick building, one that looked elegant and old, yet somehow, she suspected it hadn’t always looked that way. And she knew without a doubt who lived there.
“I remember Brannon. Not a lot … but he’s up here,” she said, touching her brow.
And in here . She had to fight the urge to rub the heel of her hand over her heart.
“He treated you like shit,” Griffin said, sounding disgusted. “Do you remember that?”
Lifting her head up, she met her cousin’s eyes. A muscle pulsed in his jaw as he stared at her and she saw the anger he couldn’t seem to hide. “Well?” he demanded when she didn’t answer.
“I know,” she said quietly. “He told me we’d fought—that we had just recently gotten involved. We’d had a fight and then … well, that day. He came to see me the day I wrecked. We were going to try and make things work out.”
“He what ?”
Griffin gaped at her, the expression on his face as baffled as if she’d told him that she’d woken up from the coma and discovered that she had turned into a man overnight.
She turned back to the street. “You heard me. We’re involved.” Then she slid a hand down to cup her belly. “We’re having a baby, Griffin. I don’t think we can get much more involved anyway.”
“Having a baby with some prick doesn’t mean you have to … hell. Look, the guy is loaded. He can uphold his end of the bargain without you getting trapped up in him.”
For the first few seconds, the insult didn’t register. Then she spun on him and stalked up to him, driving her index finger into his chest. “You jackass. I’m not about to dog some guy for money—I can take care of a baby on my own . I’m getting trapped up by him because…”
Hannah floundered then. Because … because why ?
“Why?” Griffin stared at her.
The anger drained away. She felt so very tired in that moment. Sinking down onto the edge of the chair, she crossed her arms over her middle and leaned forward, staring down at the cars that rolled by on the street below them. “I looked at him in the hospital, Griffin. He barged in and I knew him. I knew his name and more … some part of me knew him. I can’t explain it but there’s something big inside me, something that’s all his.”
* * *
It was a hot, windy summer morning, creeping up on noon and had it been just a few short weeks ago, Brannon would have been quite happy to be out there in the fields, talking with the crew, or hassling his manager, or even just taking a moment to stare out
She couldn’t tell if he bought it or not, but it didn’t matter.
She had herself back under control and that was what counted.
“Lily,” she murmured, nodding. That felt … right. Yet another thing that fit.
“I can remember some foods I like and I know I love magnolia trees.”
“You hate eggs and you can’t stand tuna fish,” Griffin offered.
She could believe it because even the mention of either made her want to gag. “You should make me a list.”
He smiled.
Turning her head, she found herself staring down the road toward the river. She could see it from here, the way it rolled lazily along and the sun reflected off it, sending a sliver of diamond bright light dancing across its surface. “I love the river, too. That’s why I got this place, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. That’s why you won’t sell me your houseboat, either.”
“My…” She stopped, a smile forming on her face. “A houseboat. I have to see it.”
“You remember that?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But I don’t have to.”
Absently, she glanced around and found her gaze lingering on the balcony across from her.
Her heart tugged. Ached .
A knot settled in her throat.
“What else do you remember?” Griffin asked, unaware of the quicksilver change in her emotions.
Softly, she murmured, “Brannon.” She opened her eyes and went back to staring at the balcony opposite hers. It was connected to a stately brick building, one that looked elegant and old, yet somehow, she suspected it hadn’t always looked that way. And she knew without a doubt who lived there.
“I remember Brannon. Not a lot … but he’s up here,” she said, touching her brow.
And in here . She had to fight the urge to rub the heel of her hand over her heart.
“He treated you like shit,” Griffin said, sounding disgusted. “Do you remember that?”
Lifting her head up, she met her cousin’s eyes. A muscle pulsed in his jaw as he stared at her and she saw the anger he couldn’t seem to hide. “Well?” he demanded when she didn’t answer.
“I know,” she said quietly. “He told me we’d fought—that we had just recently gotten involved. We’d had a fight and then … well, that day. He came to see me the day I wrecked. We were going to try and make things work out.”
“He what ?”
Griffin gaped at her, the expression on his face as baffled as if she’d told him that she’d woken up from the coma and discovered that she had turned into a man overnight.
She turned back to the street. “You heard me. We’re involved.” Then she slid a hand down to cup her belly. “We’re having a baby, Griffin. I don’t think we can get much more involved anyway.”
“Having a baby with some prick doesn’t mean you have to … hell. Look, the guy is loaded. He can uphold his end of the bargain without you getting trapped up in him.”
For the first few seconds, the insult didn’t register. Then she spun on him and stalked up to him, driving her index finger into his chest. “You jackass. I’m not about to dog some guy for money—I can take care of a baby on my own . I’m getting trapped up by him because…”
Hannah floundered then. Because … because why ?
“Why?” Griffin stared at her.
The anger drained away. She felt so very tired in that moment. Sinking down onto the edge of the chair, she crossed her arms over her middle and leaned forward, staring down at the cars that rolled by on the street below them. “I looked at him in the hospital, Griffin. He barged in and I knew him. I knew his name and more … some part of me knew him. I can’t explain it but there’s something big inside me, something that’s all his.”
* * *
It was a hot, windy summer morning, creeping up on noon and had it been just a few short weeks ago, Brannon would have been quite happy to be out there in the fields, talking with the crew, or hassling his manager, or even just taking a moment to stare out
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