Playboys' Christmas Surprises: A Christmas Baby Surprise

“There are items here that you received over those missing years, gifts I gave you.”

She gasped. “Like what?”

“The rug right here.” He pointed to the sketch, careful not to smudge the material, “It was the first gift I ever gave you. When you were living in that tiny apartment with the tile in your bedroom. You said you hated how cold your feet were in the mornings. Even then, I knew you liked those rich colors. Items with a bit of history. I picked it up on a business trip.”

She considered his words, staring hard at the sketch. “I woke up with this scene in my head. I thought it was from a dream...but maybe my memories are trying to come back after all.”

“It’s quite possible.”

“What else is from our past?”

“The globe with the cracked stand.”

“That’s a strange gift. Where’s it from?” She crinkled her nose and adjusted her sunglasses again.

“Well it didn’t start out cracked. It cracked in our move. But I got it for our one-year anniversary. It was a blank globe. Ceramic. You painted it. It’s got quotes over where the countries ought to be. Quotes about art and life. I’ve always thought you should replicate it and sell them.”

She smiled at him. “Do you think the art supplies gift made me think of that?”

“Could be.”

“What about being on the yacht? What will that help me remember?”

“Honestly? Arguing. You were angry with me for buying this. You thought the money could have been better spent. But then we fought about pretty much everything then.”

“I appreciate you being honest.”

“I want you to trust me. You believe that, right?”

“I do. I’m just not sure you want me to remember everything. You seem very into this fresh start. All the control is on your side since you have the pieces of the past and I only get what other people tell me.”

He couldn’t deny the truth in that. He owed her more, better. Hell, he owed her the unvarnished truth, but couldn’t bring himself to go quite that far when they were so close to having everything they’d wanted. Time on the yacht offered them a window of time away from the world and he needed to embrace that fully.

“Alaina, I have an idea. Let’s use this time to pretend we’re two different people. Strangers who’ve met and are stuck on this ostentatious yacht together. Strangers attracted to each other and ready to get to know each other.” He loosened the cap on the water bottle and handed it to her.

His gaze met hers, and he could swear the air crackled with the static of a lightning strike even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

She grabbed it and flashed him a grin. “I’m game.”

* * *

Vibrant pinks of the sunset blurred into deeper purples. The heat of the day was behind them, the cool ocean breeze nudging Alaina’s skin toward goose bumps. She ran a hand over her exposed leg, hoping to generate some warmth.

Embers of sunlight caused the yacht to glow. While she was conscious of how expensive this outing was, she had to admit there was some charm to it all. The lulling rock of the yacht in the water. The heavy smell of salt in the air. Relaxing. Intimate. It was easy to feel as if they were the only two people in the whole world with the captain and crew dismissed for a few hours and other boats so far away.

And in some ways, that’d been a good thing.

But she still couldn’t help feeling slightly uneasy. He hadn’t denied wanting this fresh start, or taking the power it gave him. Even when she agreed to get to know him anew, she wondered what he really thought of her. Of all of this.

“You look chilled.” Porter pushed his deck chair closer to hers. He had a thick blanket in his hand. It was covered in a sprawling cursive print. She squinted in the dying light to see what it said. Looked like lines from a novel. Was that a purchase she’d made?

“I’ve definitely been warmer. That’s for sure.” Although there was heat building inside her just from looking at him, having him near. Their night sleeping together had brought a new level of intimacy to their relationship. One that made her yearn to take that to the next level.

“Luckily for you, I come prepared.” He draped the blanket across her shoulders, his hands brushing her shoulders and sending another shiver through her.

Definitely the electric sort of shiver born of heat not cold.

She pulled the blanket tight, closing it around her body against the ache for contact with him. Did he want this as much as she did? What would happen afterward?

“So generous,” she teased him, but she was grateful for his attentiveness. Even her nose was cold.

“I don’t know about that. There is a catch, you see.” The sunset glinted in his eyes. His beard-stubbled face was serious.

“Oh?”

“It’s going to cost you a date, lady. And you’re going to have to share that blanket.” A mischievous twinkle danced in his dark eyes, reaching his lips.

Butterflies filled her stomach, and her breasts tingled with increasing need. His relaxed smile sparked a fierce need for him; the new ease of being with him stirred her.

Deeply.

He was asking for more than a shared night in a bed and she could sense they both knew that.

Clenching the blanket tighter in her fists, she returned his gaze steadily. “I don’t know about that. That’s a pretty tall demand.”

Feeling bold and ready to take a risk that she prayed would pay off, she held out a side of the blanket for him to sit next to her. He filled the gaping space in an instant with his big, warm presence.

“How ’bout a game?” he asked, gathering her closer, his hard thigh against her legs.

“I like games.” She liked him. A lot.

“Thought you might. I’ll ask a question. And you have to answer it. And then you can do the same to me.” He pivoted his body to face her.

She nodded, her hair snagging on his five o’clock shadow. “I like it. But I’m going first. Worst drink you’ve ever had?”

“Worst drink? Hmm. In college, a friend dared me to drink a bar mat—which is basically a mix of all the alcohol that spills during the night as a shot. I never made that mistake again.” He shuddered at the memory.

“That is absolutely disgusting.” She laughed, unable to imagine him losing control in any way. “What in the world made you go along with that?”

“Now, now, Alaina.” He nudged her shoulder gently. “You only get one question at a time. It’s my turn. If you had to be stuck in one television show for the rest of your life, which one would it be?”

Now that was a hard one. “Well. And you keep in mind I’m working with outdated information. But I’d have to say I’d like to be stuck in Scooby-Doo. The original series. I could totally drive around in the Mystery Machine. I half wanted to be a detective when I was younger because of that show. Definitely my favorite growing up.”

“Scooby-Doo? I would never have guessed that one. You’d have the brains of Velma and the beauty of Daphne. You would’ve been the powerhouse.” He put his arm around her back, drawing her closer to him as he leaned them down to look at the first evening stars.

She turned to half lie on his chest, her ear pressed against the steady thud of his heart. “Ha-ha. Absolute favorite meal? Like the kind you could eat again and again and never get sick of?”

He exhaled deeply. “You do know how to ask the tough questions. I would eat Dunkaroos for every meal. I love the frosting.”