It’s been two weeks of Sal living with Luke. Two weeks of pure swoony bliss, readjusting, relearning her life with her husband.
The hot summer days come to Sal like driftwood on the sea. Stretched out before her, slow and lazy. She’s shared fourteen gorgeous mornings with Luke. Fifty cups of coffee. Kissed him approximately two hundred times. Hugged Seth and Lacey as they moved out. Driven into downtown Nashville by herself. Seen her therapist once. Watched their wedding video twice.
These last two weeks with Luke have done more for Sal’s brain and her health than anything else. Every day Luke finds another way to make her feel safe and secure. Every day another way for him to rope in her heart.
And though the migraines are still there, she hasn’t had a nightmare since she and Luke shared a bed. But it’s still not enough for her. She wants more. Wants to remember her job. Her husband. Herself.
Sure, she didn’t expect it to be easy, but she expected something. Wanted that little light inside of her to click on, rewind her right back to the past.
So now, Sal’s determined to jog her memory. Literally.
She sits on the front step of the porch, lacing her bright yellow tennis shoes. Determined to do something the old Sal would do.
Run.
She doesn’t know what she expects to happen. Maybe she’ll trip over a new brain while she’s out.
Yeah, that’d be helpful.
The crunch of gravel catches her attention. Smiling, Sal tilts her face to the morning sun. It’s Luke, walking across the yard, a bucket of feed under his arm. Her stomach warms at the sight of her strong, tall country man caring for their farm animals.
She’s falling for Luke.
Fast.
Falling for him over and over again. The way he wakes before the sun, the way he sings in the shower in a cheesy outlaw drawl, the way he looks at her like she’s his spotlight.
Sal thinks back to when she first met him, how there was a pull she hadn’t felt in a long time. A pull she didn’t know the meaning of. But now. Now she knows.
Soon, he’s in front of her, setting down the bucket in the gravel drive. Luke eyes her bare legs with appreciation, then lifts his gaze to her face. “Takin’ a run?”
She nods, tightening a lace. “Thought I’d try to jog my memory.”
Luke extends a hand. Sal slides her palm into his electric touch and he pulls her to standing. As he takes her in his arms, Sal shivers at Luke’s lean hands, running down her sides to palm the small of her back.
They move for each other’s lips at the same time.
Sal, standing on tiptoes. Luke, dipping his head. They kiss, warmth kindling in her body like a rising flame.
She pulls away with a breathless laugh. “If you’re trying to get me back in bed, this ain’t gonna work, Luke.”
His grin is wicked. “Just tryin’ to warm you up.” His hands drift to the waistband of her shorts, holding her tight against him.
Sal wiggles away and tosses him a look. “Uh-huh.”
She’s trying to focus on the task at hand. Luke pawing at her is so not helpful.
His mischievous look softens. Frown lines cut deep across his brow. “I don’t want you pushin’ yourself, Sal.”
“I know. I’m not.” Her lips curve as she feigns an exaggerated stretch. “Although, are you sure I really enjoyed this?”
“You always were the masochist,” he says with a laugh.
Sal squints her eyes in the direction of the forest, considering her route.
“You want directions?” There’s worry in Luke’s voice. Lifting a finger, he traces the road leading off into the forest. “You follow the ridge—”
“Nope,” Sal interjects. She’s waving off any and all of Luke’s attempts to help. She’ll let her legs lead her down the road she had so often traveled. Sixth-sense style. “No help. You worry about yourself,” she shoots back as she sidles off. “Go make music. Write. Do your country boy thing. Coffee’s on the stove.”