The puffs of air coming from her mouth grew faster, heavier. “I meant for you to put it on yourself.”
His smile hitched higher. “To quote Emily, ‘Duh.’”
He flipped the collar of his coat up and retrieved his bottle. One long swallow later, he relaxed against the cab of his truck. He wasn’t drunk, even though he wanted to be, just buzzed enough to forget why he needed to send Dee back inside. So he let her stay.
How tempting could she be, swaddled in a wool coat with an oversize knit cap on her head? Too tempting after his having spent the day battling his hunger for her. He’d all but gawked through the window at her like some drooling adolescent.
Damn, she was cute.
Jacob tipped the bottle back again.
She pointed into the distance toward the lights striping the sky over the Cascade Range. “That’s Mount Rainier, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, except around here we call it ‘The Mountain.’”
She chewed her top lip. “That could be a sign, then, that I’m not from this area.”
“Could be. Nice catch on your part. The way you’re putting pieces together, it’s only a matter of time until you have your memory back.” He wanted that for her, even as he wondered how it would affect whatever the hell was drawing them to each other.
“I remembered something. I think my Internet cruising may be working at sparking memories.”
The beer turned flat on his tongue. He should be happy for her, and all he could think was, Now she’ll leave sooner.
“That’s great. Tell me about it,” he prompted as he’d done often during their memory-jogging sessions. Except now her voice held an edge that told him this one was about more than a simple prom dress.
“It’s not much really. Just a snippet.”
“Tell me anyway.”
She crossed her legs and canted forward. “I was looking up stuff on Valentine’s Day and I came across an article about Valentine’s Day getaways.”
“Valentine’s Day? Oh, hell, that’s today isn’t it? The holiday for women.”
She elbowed him. “For guys, too.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He grinned, then remembered…“Tell me about your memory.” A memory sparked by Cupid would likely be about some other guy. He wished he’d brought a six-pack of beer out with him.
“I’m swimming in an indoor pool, and there are mountains showing through the glass wall, like it’s a resort area.”
He so didn’t want to hear about her romantic getaway with a Mr. Smith. “Uh-huh.”
“I wade back toward the stairs, and I’m calling out to someone about not forgetting the baby’s water wings.”
Hell. He’d been a selfish ass thinking of his own needs when it came to her memory. He’d all but forgotten she had a child in the picture.
She glanced at him, her eyes unblinking. “You know, water wings, those little inflatable things that go around children’s arms when they’re swimming.”
“I know.” Over Dee’s shoulder, hazy lights streaked across the sky, as magnificent as ever, but he focused on her.
“Then I hold out my hands for my baby, and man, I’m happy.” She tipped her face up, a Madonna glow shimmering from her like the nimbus glow overhead. “I can already feel the weight of that chubby little body settling against my breasts. I can smell baby shampoo and powder. And I reach just a little more…into empty air.”
Strain pulled lines into the corners of her eyes. “I can’t help but wonder if it might be better remembering nothing. These hints are…torture. I don’t even know for sure if the child I’m remembering is mine. Maybe I was helping a friend or even some stranger as I longed for a kid I don’t have anymore.”
Seeing the pain in her eyes made him want to gather her in his arms and take life’s blows for her. Jacob lifted his bottle. “Want some?”
“Yeah,” she said through a watery chuckle. “I think I do.”
Dee gripped the neck with her thumb and three fingers, pinky extended, and sipped.