Page 19

CHAPTER 19

NOVA

“Y ou don’t remember anything?” Brett questions then takes a drink of the coffee in front of him. He says we’re engaged, but when I look at him, I feel…nothing.

“No. I don’t. I mean, I have bits and pieces—mainly me running, but that’s it.”

“Tell me what you remember.” He reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. It feels wrong. Unfamiliar. Not like when Elliot brushes my hand. Why is that? I barely know Elliot, and I was supposed to be marrying the man across from me.

I withdraw my hand, and he looks heartbroken. “I’m sorry. I?—”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay. What we had, it’ll come back.” He pulls his hand back and wraps it around the paper cup of coffee on the table, though he doesn’t lift it to his lips. “Tell me what you remember. Maybe the two of us can piece it together.”

“Um, I remember being in the woods. Running through the trees. The same ones we were attacked in two days ago.”

“Where you nearly died.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. That I couldn’t keep you safe.”

I can’t figure out why, especially since Elliot literally said the same thing to me mere minutes ago and it didn’t bother me, but hearing that come out of Brett’s mouth annoys me a bit. It’s unfair to him, of course, but it’s the truth. “It sounds like it’s my job to be in danger.”

He smiles. “It is, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try, right?”

“I guess not.” I take a deep breath. “So, tell me more about myself. Do I like animals?”

“You love them. You grew up with horses and always talked about us getting a few acres outside of the city so you could have them again.”

“Really?”

He nods.

“What about family? Do I have one?”

His expression falters. “Your dad died when you were young, and your mother passed a few years ago. You were an only child.”

My heart aches for people I don’t even remember meeting. For the siblings I’d fantasized about having. “So I have no one.”

“You have me,” he replies. My stomach twists. “And I promise you, no matter how long it takes, I’m going to make you remember what we had.” He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a diamond ring then hands it to me across the table. “It’s yours.”

“Why do you have it?”

“You left it at home before you left for your assignment. I got it out of the safe to carry it with me. So that I wouldn’t feel alone.”

I study the ring, noting the way the light shimmers off the diamond in the center of a white gold band. Shouldn’t I feel something for it? Shouldn’t it jog my memory at least a little? Staring at it now, I don’t feel even a glimmer of recognition.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember it,” he tells me. “You will.”

“And if I don’t?”

“We’ll make new memories.” He reaches over and covers my hand again. His demeanor shifts, the joy on his face fading away. “There was a time when I walked away from you because I was afraid of what we were becoming. Things were moving so fast, and I wasn’t quite ready for it.” He takes a deep breath then lets it out. “But when you took me back, I promised I would never give up on us again. And that’s what I’m doing. Nova, I will never give up on what we had. Not even when you can’t remember it.”

* * *

Standing outside Elliot’s hospital room, my stomach might as well be full of stones. Nerves twist and churn through me, eating me up from the inside.

Which, of course, is ridiculous. But after leaving his bedside to talk to Brett—my fiancé —I try the word on, but it doesn’t fit nearly as well as I feel like it should. Shouldn’t I feel something? Anything?

Honestly, it feels an awful lot like the name Gena did, which Brett assured me was likely my undercover name. If I hadn’t been shown picture after picture of the two of us together, including an image of me pinning an award on his uniform, I don’t think I’d believe it.

But the evidence is there. Staring at me in the face. And unlike the surveillance video, there’s no misreading this. No interpretation needed. Even the cell phone videos taken of me decorating a Christmas tree in my apartment, the two of us laughing together as we were on vacation—they all speak of a happy relationship.

Then why can’t I feel anything?

Before he left to book a room at the local inn, Brett assured me that time would bring it all back—my feelings, what we had—but as I stand here, I’m not so sure. With everything I feel for Elliot after only a short time of knowing him, I can’t imagine I would ever forget. From the very first moment I laid eyes on him, something felt—right.

Doesn’t that mean something? Or is my infatuation with the handsome soldier only born out of him rescuing me?

I take a deep breath and raise my fist to knock.

“Come in.” His deep voice wraps around me, making me feel a whole lot calmer than I have all afternoon. I push the door open and step into view of the bed.

Elliot looks almost surprised to see me, though his walls go back up, carefully slipping into place like a mask. “I didn’t expect you to come back tonight.”

“Why not?” I cross the room and set a paper cup of coffee on the bedside table. “Coffee. I thought you could use some.”

“Thanks.” He clears his throat. “I figured you’d be asking your fiancé everything you could.”

He’s putting distance between us. Is that because he feels the same? Or because he figures his job is done now that we know who I am? “I asked questions, he answered; then he went to book a room.”

Something flashes over Elliot’s features. “You’ll be leaving my guest room then? I bet you’re excited to get back to normal.”

“Actually, if it’s okay, I’d like to stay around a bit longer. Kennedy invited me to the wedding, so I don’t want to miss it. And we still don’t know who tried to kill us yesterday. Or who’s after me now.”

“A lot of pieces still missing,” he agrees.

“Exactly.” I take a seat in the chair beside his bed. “And—” I trail off, unsure if I should say what’s really on my mind.

“What is it?”

“Have you ever been in a situation and not felt sure how you ended up there? Like, the choices you made led you there, but the outcome just doesn’t feel right?”

He nods.

“That’s what it feels like when I’m around Brett. It doesn’t feel—like I imagine love does.”

“Love is built on moments,” Elliot replies. “If you can’t remember those moments, it would be hard to feel it.”

Except I feel something for you that I don’t feel for him. “So you’re not a believer in love at first sight?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I hate the way my heart warms at the thought that he might be talking about me. Which, of course, is ridiculous. “Maybe with losing your memories, it’s just going to take time to feel the same way again.”

“Maybe.” I force a smile. “Brett says he thinks that it’ll come back.”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m sure it will.”

I take a drink of my coffee then study him. For someone who’s built like a linebacker, Elliot somehow looks so fragile lying there, attached to machines monitoring his vitals. Still so unbelievably handsome that I can hardly tear my gaze away.

Shame burns my cheeks. I’m supposed to be engaged, and here I am, checking out the cowboy who rescued me. Before I knew I was attached, it was different, but now I know. Now the barriers between Elliot and me must remain standing. At least, until I figure out what I’m going to do.

“Are you okay? How are you handling the news?” Elliot asks, tearing my attention back to him.

“Some of it makes sense.”

“Like the fact that you’re a detective out of Dallas? I’d say that fits with the expert shot and cool demeanor you showed Sunday.”

I laugh. “It also eased my panic that I was some kind of horrible person who attracted horrible attention. Though I can’t explain the surveillance footage just yet.”

“You were likely undercover even then,” he says then flashes a smile that churns my insides. “I always believed in you.”

“I know you did.” Our gazes meet and hold. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

I lean forward and touch his hand. “I want to, though. You risked your life for me, Elliot. I know you were probably just doing your job, but—” I trail off and sit back, withdrawing my hand. “Thank you anyway.” It’s wrong to fish. To hope he tells me that what’s between us is more than a job, but I can’t help it.

Elliot takes a deep breath then nods. “You’re welcome. But again, you don’t need to thank me.”

My stomach falls, a flame of hope that I‘m not the only one feeling this way dying down. “Well. I’m going to keep thanking you because it’s important.”

Silence settles around us, alongside a heaviness of things unsaid. “So, what else did he tell you? Do you have family?”

The knot of grief I’ve had in my stomach twists again. The fact that I can feel grief for the people who raised me, yet I can’t feel anything for the man I’m supposed to be pledging my life to, has not escaped me. But I choose to bury that fact for now. “My dad passed when I was a kid, and my mom died a few years ago. I was an only child and have no other close family.”

“Oh, Nova, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” I smile. “I can’t even picture their faces, but I feel the loss. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.”

“I also love animals and grew up with horses.”

“After seeing you ride Cinnamon, I could have told you that.” He grins at me, a playful smile that lessens the darkness of my pain.

“I thought you said Cinnamon was easy to ride.”

“She is, but you still could’ve looked like you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I didn’t?”

“Nope. A natural from the moment you climbed into that saddle.”

“I had fun.”

“Then when I get out of here, maybe we can go back out. This time, within the safety of the ranch.”

I laugh. “I’d like that.” Neither of us mentions the fact that it’s likely an impossible plan. One made with no real follow-through. “Has there been any more information on the shooter? Aside from the fact that he was a former SEAL?”

“Not that I’ve heard. Though, given that I’m in here, Gibson will probably tell Bradyn first. He’ll call when he hears something.”

Silence stretches between us. “Want to watch something?”

He arches a brow in surprise. “You’re staying?”

I turn toward him. “Given what we’ve been through, I’d say we were friends, right?”

Something shifts in his hazel gaze. “Sure. Friends.”

“Then, as your friend, I would like to stay and watch a movie. If that’s okay with you?”

“The company would be nice. I’m not a fan of hospitals.”

“Why not?”

He shifts his gaze from mine back to the television. “Spent more time in them than I care to remember.”

Feeling the shift in his mood, I back off. “Then let’s distract you with some mindless entertainment.” I turn on the television and flip through the channels, hardly paying any attention at all to what I’m passing as my sole focus is on the man sitting beside me.