”
No sooner were we out of the hospital than Smoke lifted me into his arms.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked.
“Conserving your energy.”
“The doctor said we had to wait.”
Smoke smiled. “Is everything about sex with you?”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “To be honest, that’s all I remember.”
Smoke laughed. He didn’t chuckle. He laughed. I loved it when he laughed. More, I loved it when I was the one who made him laugh. A memory flashed through my mind so fast I barely caught it, but it was of Smoke. There were a lot of people around us, and even though it was fleeting, I knew I’d said something funny. The thing that confused me was the feeling the memory brought with it. Surprise.
“I’m not usually amusing,” I murmured.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, setting me on my feet when we arrived at his SUV.
“You don’t laugh at things I say often.”
He opened the door, and I climbed inside. “It’s the life we live, Siren.”
When he got in the driver’s side, he typed things on his phone while I rested my head against the seat. He was right about my fatigue; all I wanted to do was sleep.
“Where are we?” I asked when Smoke parked on a street where there were several bars and restaurants.
“Picking up our dinner.”
“Do you want me to come in with you?”
Smoke shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”
He was gone mere minutes, and when he opened the back door and set a bag on the seat, the most heavenly aromas wafted from it.
“What is that?”
“Indian.”
“It smells fantastic.”
“It’s your favorite.”
The way my mouth was watering over the pungent scents, I knew he must be right, but that I couldn’t remember my favorite food depressed me. “What else do I like?”
“There isn’t anything you don’t like. At least that I know of.”
* * *
I didn’t say much the rest of the way back to the house and then ate very little before telling Smoke and Maureen that I was retiring to the bedroom. It wasn’t five minutes after I crawled under the covers, that I was fast asleep.
When I woke the next morning, Smoke was in bed beside me, his body spooning mine. Instead of bringing me comfort, it troubled me.
What had happened before I was shot that brought these unexpected feelings? Coupled with my dreams about the two of us being angry with each other, I couldn’t help but think that maybe we weren’t happy together. The idea of it brought me to tears.
I eased out of the bed, used the lavatory, and went into the main living area of the small house. Maureen was in the kitchen.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked.