Chapter Six
A knock on the front door of Julia’s apartment the next morning brought a frown. The clock on the microwave showed it was ten minutes past seven. Heck, she hadn’t even started the coffeemaker yet.
She stumbled to the door, yawning. Years of living alone made her check the security hole. She muttered a naughty word and flung the door open.
“What are you doing here?”
Ryan grinned and pressed a quick kiss on her cheek before brushing past her, several brown paper bags and a coffee cup holder in his hands. The scent of brewed coffee trailed after him, an incentive for her not to stomp her foot and kick him out. He’d gone to a lot of trouble and must have sweet-talked someone to let him into the apartment complex.
Julia scurried after him. “And I repeat, what are you doing here? We were meeting at the café on K’ Road.”
“I wanted privacy and decided to grab breakfast. I bought your favorite apricot pastries.”
“I thought your memory wasn’t good.” Suspicion colored her tone—she could hear it, and she was certainly thinking he was playing her.
“It’s not perfect, but in this case I asked Caleb. He told me you picked an apricot Danish one time we’d breakfasted together.”
“I see.” But that wasn’t the truth. She didn’tseeat all. Ryan confused her, pushed her back into uneasiness. The hours away from him had bolstered her determination. She didn’t want to do the long-distance romance, and since Ryan was in the music business, she couldn’t see any alternatives. But the moment she was with him, every feminine hormone snapped to attention with a lusty salute, her body melted, and she turned gooey like chocolate in the midday sun.
Danger, Julia Maxwell.
“Latte with low-fat milk.” He shunted one coffee across the counter to her. “No sugar. Is that right?”
She gave a clipped nod. “Thank you.” It would be petty not to drink the coffee when he’d gone to this trouble. And of course, she needed caffeine to clear the muddiness of her thoughts.
“Should I take a seat?”
Her brows winged upward. “You mean you’ll leave if I ask you to?”
A flash of white teeth gave her an answer. “A meal is always better with company.” He ripped open the brown paper bags. “Plates?”
“In the cupboard to your right.” She sank onto one of the bar stools at her breakfast counter and watched him. His slow, deliberate actions differed from all those months ago after they’d married. It was almost as if he were concentrating hard, in case he forgot a step.
“How much of your memory is missing?”
“There are still gaps.” He hesitated. “I remembered little about us, but some things came back when I saw you at the club. I’ve been getting new flashes all the time. Tell me about how we decided to get married.”
She hesitated, not wanting to relive the heady sweetness of their courtship. The memories made her feel vulnerable. Stupid.
“Please,” he said. “The holes are frustrating.”
Julia picked up her coffee and took a quick sip. Then, unable to resist his plea, she started talking, “You asked me for my phone number before I left you and Caleb, after we spent the night together. You said you wanted to call me when you returned to Auckland.”
“Did I call you?”
“You rang me every night until you made it back.”
He nodded, his eyes twinkling as he absorbed the details. “That was an intelligent decision. Did we have phone sex?”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at the plastic lid of her coffee.
“We did.” Masculine smugness floated in the air.
“We might have. Do you want to hear this or not?”
He made a buttoning motion across his lips, his gaze expectant and unnerving.
“When you made it back to Auckland, we spent every hour together. And when you were away, you rang me.” The bones of their story without a mention of the way she’d suffered while waiting for his calls—the anticipation and the excitement. The evolving of their relationship from lovers to more. The heady sensation of falling in love.
