Wide Spaces (A Wide Awake Novella, Book 2) (3 page)

I felt his
warm fingers on the skin just under my shirt as he slanted his mouth over mine slowly. When I pushed both of my hands into his hair, he sighed, bathing my neck with warm, sweet breath. "So…I thought we could start moving some of your things in this week if you wanted."

I opened my eyes to find him watching me closely.
My heart thumped happily. "Well…this is my home now, isn't it?"

His grin was immediate and gorgeous. "Right here." He leaned the inch between us and kissed me hard. "This is your home,
Em," he growled happily and kissed me harder.

His palm skated down to my leg and he pulled, tugged, and gripped my thigh through my jeans.
I had a feeling that Mason had a thing for legs because he paid an awful lot of attention to mine. He made me feel so loved, so welcome, so needed in that moment.

And he was completely right.

I trusted him, closed my eyes, and hung on for the ride.

Only 24% of Americans do not have a tattoo.

Mason

I woke with my arms around her. I groaned at the feel of it and couldn't wait until this was a daily occurrence. I glided my hand down her side, past her hip to her leg, and back up again. She was so real in my bed—not a dream, not a cruel hoax my mind played on itself.

She was real.

She was here.

She was mine.

She trusted me.

She
wanted
me.

I closed my eyes and leaned over her, smelling her hair, knowing my pillow would smell that way after she was gone.
That smell was imprinted in my senses. I'd know it anywhere.

I leaned back a little to see her face, brushing her blonde hair back, unable to stop the smile at the way she breathed and slept so soundly in my bed next to me.
Even though my comforter was from Target and not Macy's, she still slept so soundly.

Christmas was tomorrow. I looked around my room. We had plans to go and bring a load of her stuff her
e. My room wasn't too bad. It had a bathroom attached and two big windows. I'm sure she was going to make it a lot cozier than I ever had. And we had decided that Milo's room wasn't needed anymore, so that was going to be cleaned out after the new year to make room for…whatever. I grinned at the thought that there might be another little boy in that room in a few years. This house that was always my home…

It was a shame we couldn't decorate for
Emma's first Christmas here, but we kept everything the same for Mom so she wouldn't freak every time she couldn't remember.

But Emma's parents
' house had enough decorations for an entire village, so that didn't really matter. Her brother and sister were coming the day after tomorrow, and we were all going to spend Christmas dinner together. And exchange gifts. It made me shiver with unease just thinking about that. I had no idea what to get people who already had everything, so that should be an interesting night.

I ran my knuckles across Emma's cheekbone.
The softness didn't surprise me. She lay on her side facing me, one of her legs tucked snuggly between mine. I had been with only a couple women. Girls, I should say. In my teen party-football-crazy-fun days. I chuckled to myself at how stupid we were back then. Thought we were kings of our own little worlds. I didn't really date a whole lot. I had one steady girlfriend my junior year for a few months, but it wasn't the serious kind. It was just the fun kind, the kind where you went out on the weekends to movies and parties and then made out in the car afterward. We never exchanged 'I love you's. It was just fun. Insignificant. Inconsequential. When it wasn't fun anymore, we both moved on. And the couple of girls I'd
been with
were either stupid party hookups or crushes who saw an opportunity. My teen self was just happy to have a normal life with normal friends. We got into normal trouble and acted like normal, hormonal teenage boys.

There has never been a girl
who made me want to bring her into my entire world, to live and breathe my air every day.

And then my life shattered and I never thought I would ever, ever have or want that again. You're not even the same person after guilt has eaten away at you for so long. I was
so consumed with my mom and all the things that needed to be done for her that when I found Emma at that party, I literally felt a crack in my armor. And then more salty guilt was poured into the wound when I found out that she'd been hurt...because of me. Because I should have helped her, stopped her. But Emma showed me how life can heal the cracks in our armor with people put in our path.

They say
what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and I think Emma and I both are testaments to that.

I lean
ed in and kissed her lips because I couldn't leave the bed without doing it. Once, twice, and again as her lips puckered and she sighed in response. I slipped my legs away and off the bed before pulling the blanket over her, tucking her in. Her blonde hair framed her face and the pillow like the angel she was.

Last night she had been no angel, however.

I couldn't stop my grin. Last night had been particularly amazing and hard to keep a rein on. She was a wildfire and I was apparently surrounded by tinder. It's kind of funny how as teenage boys we tried to see how far girls would let us get, and instead with Emma, I was constantly trying to make myself stop. The wedding was only a week away. That was nothing compared to the time she'd lost and the time I'd wasted.

Yes, technically, we hadn't had sex.
But yes, technically, we were both pretty content by the time we closed our eyes for the night.

With all the things that have happened, all the
firsts
that Emma lost with her memory, I wanted this first to be so memorable she'd never be able to forget. I wanted that night so ingrained in her that it could never be removed. I had a cabin for us in the mountains with no one and nobody around to disturb us. I had the nurses coming to help Mom round the clock, and they all understood how to care for her special circumstances.

I was so ready to give Emma that memory.

I pulled some clean jeans on from the drawers, slipping them over my boxers. I threw on a plain white t-shirt and peeked back at her to make sure she was still asleep as I slipped out. We stayed up pretty late last night, so it was late in the morning. I needed to do some exercises with Mom before we left for Em's parents to start packing up some of her things.

I turn
ed the corner from the hall to find Mom in her chair, finishing up some oatmeal the nurse had given her. She smiled when she saw me, but then did a double take. It's the same double take and same shocked look in her eyes that I've seen every single day. "Mason, what…"

"Mom," I knelt down and put my
hands on the tops of her knees, "you were in an accident, remember?" I ask, though I know she doesn't. "You lost your memory."

"I did?" she says, her eyes turning a little glassy. I pull
ed a tissue from the box by her chair. She went through several a day. I checked it often to make sure it was stocked.

"Yeah, Mom." I continue
d to explain it until she understood, and then I told her I was going to work her legs, like I did with her every day. It takes me about ten minutes to answer all her questions and explain everything so it sinks in.

I pull
ed her leg out straight before her, pull and release, pull and release to stretch out the muscle.

She began her grilling, like she did every
time. "So your brother doesn't live here anymore?"

"No,
Mamma." I don't tell her all the gory details of Milo because in a little while, she won't remember anyway. It's not worth getting her worked up over. "I graduated and went to school to be a physical therapy assistant so I could take care of you. We have a nurse who comes while I'm at work."

"Where do you work?"

I chuckled. "Inside Out Tattoo." She looked confused. "I own the place. I don't work with other patients anymore, just you."

She smiled wryly. "So you finally did it. You finally opened your tattoo shop."

I smiled back, switching legs. "Yes, ma'am."

Her smile changed. "You went to school to become a PTA for me, didn't you?" I didn't need to answer. She knew. "My Mason," she mused, "always trying to take care of me."

"It was only fair. You always took care of me." We didn't go into the accident. I tried once before, but couldn't do it. The old me hadn't wanted to hear that I wasn't to blame, and the me now just wanted to spend as much time with her as possible before she started to forget again.

Sh
e reached out at one point and tussled my hair. "Your hair." She laughed. "You look so grown up."

"I am grown up." I looked up at her as I pressed the pressure points on her feet. "I'm getting married in a week."

Her face was getting comical. Every day for weeks when I said that, she made almost the exact same surprised face. And she clutched her chest like she could die right there of happiness. The exact same way, every time. "Oh, Mason."

"Her name's Emma. She was one of my patients before I opened the tattoo shop."

"And she's fine now? She's OK?"

I nodded. "She is. She lost her memory, like you. But where as you can remember
your life and only forget past a certain point, she lost everything." Sympathy swept over her features. "She could remember the world we live in, but not anything from her own life."

"Oh, my…"

"Yeah," I agreed.

"And now you're getting married. What if she remembers everything one day?"

"I really doubt she will. Not that I wouldn't want her to," I rushed on. "It's just not a probability. But even if she did remember everything, she would still remember what's happened since she woke up from the coma. I would hope she would still want me if that were to happen," I joked. "I am awfully hard to forget."

Mamma smiled and shook her head. "That's truer than blue."

"That will never happen," I heard from behind me. I looked over my shoulder at a well-rested, but slightly tousled Emma. Her head was tilted, her smile genuine and adoring. She was tugging at the hem of her shirt, waiting for what I was about to say. Mamma beat me to it.

"Mariah," she said, but it was almost a question. Like she didn't quite know.

"This is Emma, Mamma." I stood and went to Emma's side, picking up her hand and kissing her palm. I looked at her as I explained to my mother. "This is the girl I told you I was going to marry."

Emma had heard this speech several times already, but every time I said that I was going to marry her, her eyes leapt with life. It made me a very smug man to know that she w
anted it as much as I did.              

When we looked back to Mom, she had a strange look on her face. I knew she was probably
forgetting, her mind digressing back to the safe zone it kept. But then she never changed, her face turned sad, mournful. "Mom?"

She was looking at Emma. "I've met you before, haven't I?"

Emma looked at me and then back at Mom. "Yes, ma'am."

"Tons of times, I bet. And every time, y'all have to explain to me who you are and
I realize then that it's you. You're the reason my Mason looks so happy."

Emma laughed a little. "
I hope so. He's doing an awful good job at doing that for me."

"I bet he is. He was always so good at taking care of things around here when his father left."

"You did an amazing job. He's…amazing." Emma smiled at me before going to the kitchen and yelling over her shoulder, "I'll get you some hot tea, OK?"

Mom looked at me. "She knows that I like my tea hot?"

"You and Emma get along great. She reads to you and y'all watch TV and talk."

"That's right," she said
in surprise. "I was reading
Mansfield Park
, wasn't I?" She looked up into my eyes. "She reads that to me?"

"Every day," I said proudly.

Emma came back in and put the cup on the coaster for Mom. "There you go." Then she took the blanket from the chair and placed it across Mom's lap gently. "Are you both done with therapy? We can watch something for a little while before we go to my house. Ooh!" She turned in excitement and pointed the remote at the TV. "
It's a Wonderful Life
is on all day."             

"Thank you, Mariah…Emma. Sorry."

Emma giggled. "Don’t worry about it. I kind of like it now."

She was so good with my mom.

I stared at her and looked at the clock. Usually, Mom had digressed by now. And she never went too far into the things that have happened since. It was as if her brain knew that she would be forgetting it soon and kept a barrier there to keep her safe. But her barrier was down today and I didn't understand why or what that meant.

When Momma didn't say anything, we both looked at her. She looked up at Emma
and then at me, her eyes no longer just glassy, they were full of tears that spilled over as soon as I recognized them.