Free Her Wedding Wish by Jillian Hart

called out, holding the door patiently as he pushed the walker through the door. “I have my cell on.”
    “You’re on a date,” Rebecca called out. “No worrying about the kids. I’ve got things covered here.”
    “Oh, I know. It’s just hard to turn off the mom mode.” Danielle laughed at herself, following him into the garage. “Bye!”
    Rebecca’s answering “bye!” echoed briefly through the doorway before the door clicked shut, leaving him alone with his wife. His stunning, wonderful wife. His heart ached in all the empty places where he supposed his memory and his love for her used to be. He wished he could remember one thing about her, anything, and then maybe he wouldn’t feel so formal, as if he were with an acquaintance, someone he only knew distantly, instead of the woman who had given him two fantastic kids.
    Everything in his soul longed to love this woman who opened the passenger door for him and did not look at him as less. No, when he gazed into her wide liquid eyes, he could almost see a glimpse of what had been. He could almost see who he’d been.
    “Are you hungry?” She smiled up at him as she folded up and stowed the walker.
    “Starving. Where are you taking me?” He settled unsteadily into the seat.
    “Where we went for our first date.” Her smile turned mischievous as she leaned closer to help him with the seat belt buckle. “I know you don’t remember, but it’s always been our family’s favorite. It’s the best steak in town.”
    “Steak? Sounds good. Am I going to need my wallet?”
    “It’s my treat.”
    “That doesn’t seem very gentle—” He couldn’t grasp the word. Polite? Manly? The word hovered just beyond reach and then it slipped into his mind. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me, making such a quality lady pay.”
    “Quality, huh?” Her face softened, and some of the ever-present tension washed from her face. “Jonas, you’re the quality one, believe me.”
    “That can’t be.” She must not know what he saw when he looked at her. The woman who sat by him so he wouldn’t be alone in a coma. The woman who fought with doctors and the insurance and through her own exhaustion to help him with his rehabilitation. The woman who didn’t look at him with pity or unease because of his partial paralysis.
    Quality was too small a word, as was every other word he could think of to describe her.
    “Don’t worry about it.” Her hand covered his and gently squeezed. Reassuringly. Sweetly. “I may be paying, but I’ll use the credit card with your name on it.”
    “I’d like that.” Jonas’s empty heart filled with a strange surge of emotion. She deserved his very best, and he was going to make sure he gave it to her.
     
    “What did I like here?”
    Danielle looked over the top of her menu at her husband across the table from her. He still looked good in a suit—wait, he looked even better because he was right here with her, when she’d been terrified she would lose him.
    Her heart fluttered. She loved this man in more ways than she could count. “Here’s where I could cause all sorts of trouble for you, handsome.”
    His puzzled expression melted into a shy grin. “That means what?”
    “Not only do I know what you like, I know what you don’t like.”
    “I’m in a—what does Tyler say?—a pickle. I have to trust you.”
    “You do. Lucky for you, I won’t torture you by having you order the prawns.”
    “Prawns?” He glanced down at the menu, searching the words and the pictures of the tempting food. He awkwardly tapped one of the pictures with his gnarled hand. “Oh, I see. The prawns.”
    “Do you remember not liking them?”
    “No. I wish I could. I just don’t like the look of ’em.”
    “That’s got to be a promising sign, at least.” Danielle reached over to touch another picture on the menu. Jonas could read, but she thought the picture might strike an image in his injured brain. “You always order the filet mignon.