Page 164 of A Forgotten Promise

“I can only hope.” There is pain in his voice. I might not know him as my husband, but I know agony. Not sure how, but I see it all over his face.

“Hope?”

“You never told me.”

Suddenly, I wish I could tell him now; his regret is so palpable, it coils around my insides, spreading pain.

We stand there, so close yet so far from each other. I take a breath, my nipples grazing his chest. His cock hardens between us.

He tucks a strand behind my ear and his hand lingers, his touch feather-like. Cupping my face, he leans forward but stops an inch from me.

His breath fans my face. I shake all over with anticipation, but it seems like he is waiting for my consent.

Can I give it? Will kissing him be a good thing? Or will it confuse me further? What if I don’t feel anything?

And why the fuck am I in my head right now? It’s not like my mind has been useful as of late.

As if he senses the turmoil, he takes the leap and closes the distance, his lips grazing mine.

The jolt of electricity shudders through me at the tender touch. I part my lips, inviting him.

“Ready to get out of here?” Celeste’s voice fills the room, and we jump away from each other like she caught us doing something forbidden.

Her hands on her belly, her lips freeze in an unspoken O, her eyes darting between me and Corm.

Cal stops, surprised his wife didn’t move, and raises his arm, a coffee sloshing around. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Shit, I forgot to let them know I’m returning to Corm’s.

Corm walks to the window, probably hiding his erection behind the bed.

“The therapist recommended that returning to familiar places might trigger my memory.” I clutch my arm, trying to ignore the throbbing—around my wound, in my temples, and in my pussy. Jesus. What timing.

“His house isn’t familiar since you don’t remember it,” Cal rumbles.

“What’s your problem?” I yank the sling from the bed, struggling to pull it over my head.

“He should have—”

“Stop it now,” Celeste orders and comes to help me, hanging the sling over my head. “Let me help you get dressed.”

For some reason, I search for Corm, meeting his eyes and feeling somehow grounded immediately. The intensity of his gaze hits me with a dose of something intimate. Sensual. Raw.

Celeste collects my clothes where Corm laid them out earlier. “Be nice, boys,” she warns.

Reluctantly, I break the eye contact and follow her to the small bathroom.

“How did you trick her again?” Cal whispers, his words infused with fury.

“Maybe you should give your sister more credit. She can make her own choices.”

Corm’s defense brings a smile to my face.

“If something happens to her—”

“Nothing will happen to her,” Corm snaps, his tone now laced with anger.

Celeste rolls her eyes before she pulls a crew neck over my head.

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