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we drove down this street.”
    A ray of hope darted through Emma. Maybe the minute she saw her home, her past would all come rushing back.
    â€œWe looked at that ranch,” Grant said, pointing to a redbrick house with green shutters. “But the wallpaper in the kitchen was hideous. Black with these huge orange flowers.”
    â€œThat sounds awful.” Her smile faded, bitterness invading. She couldn’t recall how she’d decorated her own kitchen. She liked yellow and rose and green—had she used those colors?
    Grant seemed to notice her sudden change of mood, because he reached for her hand and held it. She studied his guarded features and wondered if they were close, if they shared a special bond, the sort she’d always dreamed of sharing with someone. He smelled wonderful, all musky but fresh as if he’d recently showered and put on aftershave. His hand felt warm and big enveloping hers, and Emma took comfort in his presence. He seemed like a kind man. After all, she wouldn’t have married him if he hadn’t been, would she?
    â€œThe Porters live in that house,” Grant said, pointing out a gray two-story with a fenced-in yard. “His wife is expecting any day now.”
    â€œThat’s nice,” Emma said. “Do we know them very well? Are we friends?”
    Grant sighed. “Not really. You wanted to invite them for dinner last week.”
    â€œBut we didn’t?”
    â€œNo, I had to work late.”
    Emma nodded, wondering at his frown. At least she hadn’t married a bum. Grant sounded like an ambitious man.
    â€œHow did we meet? Through your job somehow?”
    He shook his head. “No, we met in college. Kate attended UNC, where I went, and you came up to visit her one weekend. We met at a party after a football game.”
    â€œReally? Did we date right away?”
    A smile curved Grant’s mouth. “You really have forgotten. Sweetheart, you chased me shamelessly.”
    â€œWhat?” Emma’s eyes widened. “I…I did?”
    Grant laughed softly, a husky sound that warmed her and helped drain some of the tension from her knotted muscles. “You know, perhaps there is an upside to this,” he said in a mischievous voice. “You’ve forgotten all the foolish things I did to win you. I could tell you that you fawned all over me, and you wouldn’t know any differently.”
    Emma shivered at the sexiness radiating from histeasing tone. “I may not remember, but I do know I didn’t fawn all over you. I wouldn’t fawn all over anyone. ”
    Grant’s eyes twinkled as he squeezed her hand. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
    Emma smiled and studied his long tanned fingers, her own hands clammy with perspiration. He seemed to sense her confusion and released her hand. “So tell me the truth—did I really chase you?”
    Grant’s tone turned serious again. “Hardly, sweetheart. It was the other way around. And I’d rather not remember those days.”
    This time Emma laughed. And she couldn’t help the faint stirring of her pulse, the tingle that raced through her body at the humility she saw in his eyes. The passion lurking in the dark blue depths excited and frightened her at the same time.
    When he’d comforted her in the hospital, a subtle attraction had strummed through her. She’d been drawn to him, relieved he’d stayed with her. His deep husky voice had called to her when she was in that coma, a heady baritone that had pleaded with her to wake up, not to leave him. He’d saved her life. Now that she knew the voice belonged to her husband, she wanted to remember him. But his face, his smile, his voice—it felt as if she was meeting him for the very first time.
    They passed a group of teenagers lounging by a car, the radio blasting. She clung to it as a safe topic. “It looks like they’re having fun.”
    â€œThe