The Forgetful Fiancée

Chapter Three

Tara glanced over her shoulder at Andrew, sleeping peacefully in the back seat of the police cruiser as Kevin drove them home from the hospital. For him, she thought. She would cope with her life's changing circumstances for Andrew's sake. Urban Chicago was a great place for an adult, but not a child. A child needed green grass under his feet and places he could roam without fear of being hit by a bus. A child needed fresh air, at least. And a child needed a father.

Kevin looked over at her and immediately sobered. He must have caught the dismal expression on her face. "C'mon, Tara, it's not that bad. We're an hour from Colorado Springs, which most definitely has museums."

"Kevin? Where's my stuff?"

"What stuff?"

"You know, all the things from my apartment. My furniture, my clothes, my dishes…"

"In storage. Well, some things you brought with you, I'm sure, but they were stolen with your car."

That seemed strange. If she was moving here for good, she would have brought her furniture with her. She shuddered to think about the interior of Kevin's house, her future home. He was color-blind. She could only hope his Aunt Debra helped him decorate.

"Maybe I was driving a U-Haul truck," she thought aloud, but that only made her more depressed. Her beautiful designer furniture could be in Mexico with her mugger by now.

"You flew to Colorado Springs and rented a car – that much we've figured out. Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll catch the guy."

For no reason at all, tears sprang to Tara's eyes. She hadn't cried since waking up in the hospital to discover her life was upside down, but all at once it got to her. She wanted her old life back. She wanted her cell phone and her Rolodex, her big-screen TV with the satellite connection and two hundred channels. She wanted her Daytimer packed with appointments. She wanted…oh, she didn't know what she wanted.

Kevin noticed a strange noise coming from the other side of the car. "Are you crying?"

"Yes, and just let me, okay?"

"No, it's not okay." He couldn't remember ever seeing Tara cry. He pulled the cruiser over to the side of the road, cut the engine, unfastened his seat belt, and scooted next to her on the bench seat. He put his arms around her and held her close, murmuring gentle, soothing phrases as she cried on his shirt.

"I know it's hard, I know, baby," he soothed. "We'll work everything out."

"I want to remember," she sobbed. "I want to know how I got from there to here. God knows I love you, Kevin, but…but…"

"You can't imagine why you wanted to move here," he said, completing her thought.

"It's just so different."

"You haven't even given it a chance. Try it for a while."

"I will. I never meant to imply I would go back on my word. Obviously I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it. You'll just have to endure my little…fits of adjustment."

A spear of guilt stabbed Kevin straight through the heart. He never should have let Debra talk him into this lie. But if he told Tara the truth now, she would turn tail for Chicago faster than a spooked rabbit. At least he could have a couple of weeks with her first, some memories to draw on during the long Colorado winter nights to come.

She stopped crying after a few more minutes, much to his relief. But he still held her. With her new, softer curves, she felt better than ever in his arms. His groin tightened at the memory of their lovemaking.

Her mind must have been traveling along similar corridors, because she asked, "Kevin, how long has it been since we made love?"

"Way too long." That much, at least, was the sincerest truth.

"How fast can we remedy that situation?"

His breathing came faster. "Darling, as fast as I can haul this car home."

Tara might have forgotten a lot of things, but one thing she did remember was how good she and Kevin were together. They'd dated for three years – two of which she could remember – and during that time their ardent desire for each other had never dulled with time and familiarity.

As Kevin pulled his car into the driveway of a natural wood house on the outskirts of town, Tara's anticipation grew. Surely, once she was in his arms, things would become clear again. She'd always found such comfort in Kevin's lovemaking, as well as excitement.

She gave the modern house, nestled in a grove of birch, a cursory inspection as Kevin unfastened the baby's car seat restraints. It suited him, she decided, and it was far more appealing to her than she would have hoped. She'd always loved contemporary design. In fact, she was known for her daring, almost futuristic concepts when it came to her own design work. But this house had a warmth about it, too, something very inviting.

Kevin handed Andrew to Tara, and she took him with a naturalness she wouldn't have dreamed of before. "What do you think?" Kevin asked.

"Nice, very nice," she said with a smile. "But I'm more interested in the interior. Of the bedroom."

Kevin almost broke his neck getting to the front porch and unlocking the door.

Tara paid little attention to the inside of the house. Her body was primed, and all she could think about was shucking her clothes – and his – and slaking her desire. She was always like this when it came to Kevin and sex. She had tunnel vision. That was probably how she'd ended up pregnant, she reflected. She'd forgotten birth control one too many times.

Kevin led her to a nursery. Tara absorbed the impression of ducks – lots of cute ducks – as she laid Andrew in the crib. Someone, probably Debra, had prepared for Andrew's arrival.

Deprived of his mother's arms, he fretted a bit.

"What's wrong with him?" Kevin asked, sounding unnaturally alarmed.

"Nothing, as far as I know." Tara rubbed Andrew's stomach and murmured soothingly to him. Almost instantly he quieted, closed his eyes, and slept again. Then she turned and hooked her arms around Kevin's trim waist. "C'mon, let's get this show on the road," she said, nibbling his neck the way she knew drove him crazy. "I can't guarantee how long Andrew will sleep."

Kevin scooped her up in his arms. "You don't have to ask twice."

In the master bedroom, Kevin wasted no time in removing Tara's clothes, kissing every part of her body as he bared it. She felt a moment of embarrassment as she wondered how he felt about her new, fuller figure. Kevin, sensing her self-doubt, pulled her to him and enveloped her in a full-body hug. "You look beautiful. Motherhood has softened your sharp corners."

"I had sharp corners?"

Kevin rubbed her back, letting one hand slip down to cup her bottom. "You know what I mean. You could gain or lose a hundred pounds and I'd still love your body."

That was the closest Kevin had ever come to saying "I love you" since she'd awakened in the hospital. He used to say it all the time. Now he seemed sort of reluctant to show his feelings. What had changed – besides her body – in the past year?