Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(29)

It’s so strange how the human mind works. Or doesn’t work in my case.

“We’re almost home,” Flint says.

I close my eyes, still seeing that vicious kid. My lips don’t want to work, but I make them.

“So, hey...did I ever mention anybody named Ray?”

“Ray? Hell, I don’t know everybody you do, honey,” Flint says quietly.

It’s almost a quip. Surprising. Strange.

I do a double take, looking at him slowly before turning back to the view outside my window.

What’s the deal?

I try not to be frustrated, mainly because I like him—of course I like him, I’m freaking married to him—and this must be as frustrating for him as it is for me. I can tell.

He’s being so patient, so kind, but there are times when I sense his worry under the surface.

Who wouldn’t be uneasy in his shoes? Being married to a woman who can’t remember you.

It’s flipping nuts. And there’s a darkness in my mind, a sinister, scary sense I’m still missing something right under my nose.

I can’t blame him, even when Mr. Sea Glass turns into Mr. Growlypants. Flint’s the only reason I haven’t flipped my lid.

Kissing him back there proved it. Just a simple, sweet kiss was all I needed to chase away the gloom, the frightful, gut-wrenching confusion. I can’t help but think it’s proof I love him.

It’s not like I ever doubted it. I just...

I wish I could remember. Bring myself back to meeting him for the first time. Remember falling in love.

If there’s one thing I despise this amnesia for robbing away, it’s that.

Our dating routine. Our first kiss. Our little dance of he loves me, he loves me not.

All gone thanks to a sickening twist of fate.

Why the hell am I dreaming about my brother, who seems like a total sicko, and not Flint Calum?

I try to will it, pinching my lips together, tightening my thigh muscles as other parts of my body try to do the thinking. Hazy or not, it’s still sexy, everything I picture.

My toes curl, imagining him touching me. Running those strong fingers through my hair, tangling my locks around his fingers.

Kissing me.

Growling his hot frustration against my tongue. Stealing my breath. Pushing my nipples against his chest, his hands roaming, his ladykiller eyes making me so wet I start to shake.

God. Our honeymoon must’ve been spectacular.

“We’re here,” he says, turning down the long road with the gate at the end.

Oh.

For once, I don’t regret letting my mind wander, shifting my knees back together.

I open my eyes as the elaborate wrought iron gates swing open and we drive through them. Our home’s exterior looks as gorgeous as it does inside.

Two tall stories of ivory white stucco with orange-red roof tiles and shutters loom over everything. The large front door is painted jet-black.

I think about how nice a tall welcome sign would be leaning beside the door. Maybe if the letters were painted the same rustred color of the roof tiles.

I’ll have to look for one, after I talk to him about it, and I mentally add a few potted, flowering plants to my list too.

We settle into the garage. I grab the trash out of the backseat after climbing out.

Flint takes the bag and puts it in a canister before opening the door to the house, welcoming me in with a swoop of his arm. “After you, duchess.”

I smile. It’s nice knowing chivalry still exists here with this gorgeous man.

“Hey, can I use your computer to look up some stuff?” I ask while stepping inside.

“Sure, but do you want a nap or some pain meds first? More mango tea, maybe?” He gives me a big grin, his eyes slightly narrowed.

“Nope, I’m fine. Maybe just a glass of water.” The dream left me unsettled, but I’m not experiencing any nasty new pain. “I just feel like I need to know more about my condition. Something beyond the bits and pieces you get from Cash.”

“Yeah, all right.” He pulls out one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Have a seat. I’ll go get the computer.”

I do, planting my butt down on the seat, but then something else I hadn’t questioned comes to mind. “Don’t you ever work? I mean, you built this house, right? Are you a builder?”

“No, not really. Just a hobby of mine. My grandfather was a carpenter. Used to work the summers with him way back and the skills stuck around.” He’s over by the fridge.

Huh? I blink like a fish out of water.

“Then...how do we live? Money-wise?”

I don’t care how popular my turtle tours are. There’s no freaking way we’d ever make enough money to build this place. It must’ve cost six, maybe even seven figures, not counting the gorgeous land it’s on.

One thing I haven’t forgotten is just how insanely expensive Hawaiian real estate can be. Heck, make that Hawaiian everything.

“Simple, babe.” Flint gives me a smile, pouring some water into a couple glasses and handing one to me. “I was in the military, same as Cash. We took our defense ideas private after we were discharged. Worked in private security for a few years, which helped me build a device I patented and then sold off for a mighty fine payoff.”

“What sort of device? Sold it to whom?”