“Chardonnay. Unless you’d like a martini?”
She cringed. “No. I won’t be having another of those.”
“I thought martinis were your thing?”
“I don’t know what made me order one at the Silver Saddle, but I distinctly remember not liking it.”
He seemed contemplative about her admission but said no more about it.
She lifted the heavy, leather-bound menu, taking her time reading each mouthwatering description. “What do I choose?”
“Anything you like,” he responded easily. “We’re celebrating.”
“What are we celebrating?”
“You. Me. Isn’t that enough?”
“You mentioned dancing?” She swept her eyes over the dining room. There was no dance floor, unless he intended to hop onto the tabletop.
“Not here. Across the street at the botanical gardens. They have an outdoor tent, and afterward, we can visit the butterfly garden.”
“I love that garden.” She knew that on an intuitive level, at least. She could call up a picture of the lush green setting and multicolored wings fluttering around her. “You must have taken me before.”
His smile faltered. “Not me. You went with friends, I think.”
“Oh. Right.” It was so odd not being able to place him in the memories she did have. It was like he’d been erased from some of them.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I guess so. It’s odd how I recall some things but others are blank. I can’t explain it. Why can’t I remember you? You’re the most important person in my life. You should be there.” Her heart burned with unspent emotions—frustration, worry, fear.
He reached over the table to take her hand, giving her fingers a squeeze. “None of that matters tonight, Aub. We’ll make as many new memories as we can until the old ones return.”
She swallowed back the tears that threatened. “If they return.”
“When they return,” he corrected.
“I miss my apartment,” she admitted with a weak smile. “How do you live in your family’s home without losing your mind?”
“We’re not exactly on top of each other at the ranch. Morg and I practically have our own wings. Layla and Josh are living in a hotel while their ranch house is being built. Chels is staying with her fiancé. The house is emptier than it’s ever been.”
“Intriguing.” She hoisted a teasing eyebrow.
His eyes darkened with intent, but he didn’t speak.
The sommelier delivered their wine, allowing her to taste first. It was buttery and smooth, the perfect chardonnay. When they were alone again, Vic raised his wineglass in a toast.
“To new and lasting memories.”
She’d drink to that.
Vic sipped his wine and watched the beautiful woman across from him at the table. She was exquisite and, for tonight, his. He was playing with fire by bringing her out for a romantic date, but a plan had hatched and hadn’t let go of him yet.
If he could make enough good memories with Aubrey during his time with her, then when her memory fully returned, the good would far outweigh the bad.
In theory.
He wasn’t sure of that, or really anything anymore. His foundation was less bedrock than shifting sands in an hourglass. His recent crisis of character had cropped up when he’d stepped in to play the role of Aubrey’s boyfriend. Admitting to her that he’d been shortsighted when it’d come to him inheriting the ranch had shaken him further.