Memories of Us: A Second Chance, Amnesia Romance Novel

by Kennedy L. Mitchell

Me: That is terrifying. Why did you do that?

  Ryder: You've seen the bar where I work. Shady as fuck. I needed protection.

  Me: Do you even know how to shoot it?

  Ryder: Stop being so judgy.

  Me: That's a no.

  Ryder: Hey, I had to qualify!

  Me: Please tell me you bought something with a manual safety.

  Ryder: You're no fun.

  Ryder: It's heavy as hell though.

  Me: Heavy? What kind of gun did you get?

  Ryder: A .40 cal.

  Me: Shit, Ryder! That's a hand cannon! No wonder it's heavy.

  Ryder: Bigger the bullet, less you have to aim.

  Me: It does. Not. Work. That. Way. I'm legit scared for the general public.

  Ryder: Pew. Pew. Pew.

  Me: You're ridiculous.

  With a broad smile spread across my face, I shoved against the porch to set the swing in motion.

  That girl. Hell.

  I was still smiling as my gaze fell to the main house. It was too early to risk stopping by to give B the decision that I would help. Later, after dark, would be better.

  Even though I was good with us talking again, there might be people who weren’t. Which was why he needed to understand that I'd help him but, just like it used to be, no one could know.

  Chapter 4

  Brenton

  EVERY CORNER OF THIS house elicited a new memory, some good, a few terrible. Growing up privileged wasn't as glorious as people thought it to be. The worst of those memories were exactly what I wanted to chase away tonight with the help of Pappy's extensive liquor trove instead of the clear fizzing liquid filling my glass. Thankfully the last of the locals paying their respects left a few minutes ago, leaving Dad and me alone.

  Which was another reason my attention kept diverting back to the high-end bottles along the bar.

  Shoulder pressed against the window frame, I stared out into the dark. Besides the few bright windows of Beks’s father's house, nothing else was visible. Those few lights captivated my attention. With every breath after seeing her today, a new memory of her, of us, came flooding back.

  Still nothing too specific, but snapshots of laughter and talking under the vast star-filled sky became more evident. And between the innocent memories, snippets of us skin to skin, my lips pressed against hers, my name breathless from her lips bubbled to the surface. Each time I tried to hold on to the memory, it slipped through my grasp and faded once again.

  The therapist in Dallas had said the recent blackouts could be from repressed memories and emotions. Maybe it wasn't random memories I'd been avoiding, but ones that surrounded one specific person. Someone my mind had been fighting for years for me to remember.

  Her.

  Almost like she was the missing piece. Beks could be the cure.

  The moment our eyes connected in the main room, the constant simmering tension and anger settled. A single look from her stilled everything. Each stolen touch freed me from some invisible bind that had held me back from truly living.

  The past several years I thought I was happy, but now it felt more like contentment. The army gave me a family, a career, a diversion from the self-destructive path I had sprinted down. I'd never regret the decision. No doubt I was still alive because of the irrational, rushed choice made minutes after leaving rehab all those years ago.

  Maybe she was the reason I made that decision. I had to survive for her.

  But if she was that important, that impactful, then how in the hell did I forget her for so long? And the now burning question of what I did to her.

  An unwelcome thought settled in my gut. What if I was like Dad? What if I forced—no, I'd never do that. No matter if I was drunk, high, or sober, I wasn’t that type of person, no matter who my father was.

  Turning from the window, I tipped the glass back and downed the last swallows of the drink. Dad watched with a smirk from where he sat on the couch.

  “What?” After setting the empty glass on the side table, I leaned against the window once more and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Nice scene today. Glad we can still be a source of entertainment for these people.”

  The conniving glint in his eyes had me watching my words.

  “Living up to our family name. Like you cared. You were high as a fucking kite all day.”

  “Hell yeah, I was. No way could I get through this day sober with all those damn people paying their respects like he was a celebrity around here.”

  Tension tightened the muscles down my spine and between my shoulder blades. “Pappy was a good man. Better than you.”

  “He had you fooled. He was a mean old bastard who enjoyed controlling everyone by dangling his damn money in their faces to get what he wanted.”

  As he spoke, the tension spread to my chest and up my neck before settling in the back of my head with a steady pulse. Fuck, not here. Not in front of him. I gripped the mantle and stared at the ornate clock in the center.

  “That girl you were talking to, I remember her,” he said. I flicked my gaze to him and found him smirking. “You had your fun with her, didn't you? Hell, the way she filled out, I wouldn't mind taking your leftovers. Imagine that long dark hair fisted—”

  “Watch it,” I gritted out. Darkness spread in the edges of my vision. I had to get out of there.

  With a shove off the wall, I strode out of the room, leaving Dad watching from the couch. Needing fresh air, I turned left down the hall and stormed straight for the back patio.

  Outside, the hot, dry air burned down to my lungs with each deep inhale. Stepping away from the house, my vision cleared and breathing eased to a regular cadence.

  Crazy considering each step took me closer to her.

  Beautiful her.

  Fucking hot her.

  Damn, that woman had curves that could tempt any man. Add in those sultry honey brown eyes and creamy tan skin and she was a walking pinup model.

  I stopped at the edge of the patio and gripped the back of my neck. Beks better say yes. Damn, I hoped she said yes. If she wasn't the magical cure, it sure as hell could be fun while we figured it out.

  Even with her nowhere in sight, my fingers itched to touch her again, as well as one other stiff body part. I was surprised she didn't say anything about the massive hard-on that was visible in my suit pants when I touched her. How could I not be turned on with her between my hands, under my control, loving it as much as me?

  It was a small miracle I didn't give in to the need to kiss her.

  But I would.

  As soon as she said yes.

  Chapter 5

  Rebeka

  DAMN, I SHOULD'VE BROUGHT a flashlight. The tiny light on the phone wasn't anything but a tease in the pitch black of the night. If I stepped on a rattler just to see B again, I'd take it as an omen to get my ass in the truck, drive back to Midland, and never think of the gorgeous man again.

  With each cautious step toward the main house, my nervous energy ticked higher and higher. I was almost to the window of his room when a nearby bang sent me leaping a foot in the air with a quick yelp of surprise. Sounds of cursing and heeled shoes clicking along the flagstone diverted me from my original destination.

  Prickly leaves scraped at my hand and arm as I moved a section of a tall bush aside. Through the hole, I watched Brenton collapse into a patio chair and lean forward to massage his temples. Even from there I could tell he was emotionally and physically exhausted. No doubt the day was difficult for him. Even if he couldn't remember me, or this place, surely he remembered his amazing grandfather and mourned the loss.

  After a few minutes of gazing at his sexy profile from the shadows, I chastised myself. When did I become a creepy stalker? Without a glance back to where I was retreating, I took a step, eager to get away unseen. Dread shot through my veins, cutting off my breath at something soft and wiggly pinned beneath the heel of my boot. Terrified, I propelled myself forward, right into the bush. With a curse, I hastil
y disengaged myself from the branches and pokey leaves with a few swats, only to stumble back and land sprawled on the dusty ground.

  Shit.

  There was still a chance he didn’t hear the commotion, though that hope was dashed when a dark, ominous shadow encroached. To my horror and absolute embarrassment, B stood over me, hands on his hips, smirking.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” He squatted beside where I still sat in the dirt, too afraid to move in case the snake came back. “You okay?”

  “I stepped on a snake, okay? Scared the shit out of me.”

  His dark brows pulled together. “Did it bite you?”

  Rotating one ankle and then the other, I shook my head. “No stinging, and I didn't feel a bite, so I should be good.”

  Pulling out his phone, he shined the dim light along the ground. A deep, humorous chuckle eased my nerves and pissed me off in the same breath. He pulled the “snake” off the ground and held it up for me to see.

  “This your snake?” For emphasis, he shook the black water hose. “Looks vicious. Wonder what kind it is.”

  “It felt like one, okay? And this time of year, snakes are awful. Hate those devils,” I muttered.

  “Now that our lives aren't in mortal danger, answer my first question. What are you doing out here?”

  Using his knees as leverage, B pushed up and extend a firm hand down to me. With an eye roll he couldn't see, I took his hand, allowing him to pull me off the ground. “I was on my way to your old room when I heard you out here. I came by to tell you my decision on helping you.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What's your decision, Beks? Will you help me or not?”

  I slid my hands into the pockets of the dress and rocked back on my heel. “I need to know what I'm getting into first. Then, if I decide to help, I have some ground rules.”

  Warmth spread along my palm and up my arm when his hand interlaced with mine. He led me to a long couch situated along the opposite side of the pool, somewhat hidden from the main house. Perfect. That way no one could stumble upon us unless they were looking for him.

  For several minutes, we just sat in silence, listening to the gentle hum of the sparkling pool’s jets and animated chirps of summer bugs.

  “After Caleb died, I started having these episodes of blacking out. One second I'd be fine, and then the next I'd be sweating, couldn't control my blood pressure, and my vision would go dark.” Looking away, he sighed and tightened his hold on my hand. “It’s happened enough to drive me to take some time off work to get myself better. Before I got the call about Pappy, I was already in Dallas and had started seeing a therapist in hopes they could fix me. But then came the call, and now you. I can't explain it, but I think you can help me.”

  “But why me?” I asked, almost too afraid to hear his answer.

  “The flashbacks, snapshots, are of us happy. Me happy.”

  “We were,” I whispered. “But I still don't understand. You forgot about me, about this place, for so long. Why now? Why not go back to your fancy head doctor and move on?”

  “I don't know. That's the truth. That's all I can offer you at this point. All I know is when you're around, everything feels right. My anger settles, and everything else fades in importance. Isn't that enough for now?”

  Was it?

  Looking up, I watched the stars before concentrating on him once more. “What would I need to do?”

  “Be you, I think. Give it five days—four now—of us, of you helping me remember the pieces of my life that I can't. Then you'll go your way and I'll go mine. I have to get back to Kentucky.”

  “Girlfriend?” I questioned before I could think better of it.

  “Army. I'm a helicopter pilot.”

  Wow. And bam, Brenton Graves somehow got hotter. Images of him in uniform flashed in my mind, shooting a spicy heat straight to my gut.

  “Wow, we have a lot to catch up on,” I said, somewhat out of breath. Damn, Beka, pull it together. “I'll help you, but I do have conditions.”

  “Conditions?”

  “Yeah. Like it or not, I'm still pissed and need answers too. Maybe me helping you will help me too.”

  “Closure.” He said it like the word was bitter in his mouth.

  “Right. Which means we do this as friends.”

  “Friends as in...?”

  “As in no sex.”

  “Not gonna happen. Hell, it's amazing that I haven't kissed you yet looking like you do.”

  I didn't try to hide my happy smile. “Looking irresistible was part of the plan to get back at you today.”

  “Does it make you feel better knowing you succeeded?” Brenton grumbled.

  “Tons. And the no-sex thing is to protect me. You just made it clear that you're heading back to Kentucky. After you're gone, I'll go back to my practice—”

  “Practice? You're a doctor now?”

  “Vet. Focus, B. No sex, no touching, no instigating. I know you. I'm the one with the memory of us, and I don't think I could take having you to lose it all over again.”

  “Will you tell me what I did?”

  “I'll help you remember, how’s that? Do we have a deal?”

  Looking up from the quiet pool, I found him stargazing. “How about this. I'll take it into consideration.”

  My smile grew. It was nice knowing Brenton wanted me like that again. I did too, badly, but I needed to play this smart. No giving up my heart again when he'd admitted to leaving. At least now I knew ahead of time instead of being blindsided.

  “No touching,” I insisted.

  A minuscule nod was all I received in return.

  Rolling my eyes, I moved to the next part of the negotiations. “And no one can know what we're doing. No one can see us together, see us talking or hanging out. We do everything on the down low.”

  Those furrowed brows came back in full force as he said, “I'm confused. You don't want people to see you with me?”

  “I'm sure you are.”

  “What does that mean?” he said through clenched teeth.

  “That you have no memories of how you left things, of who you hurt and left behind. Until you do, until you understand the stakes, we keep this between us.”

  “How in the hell will we do that?”

  I shrugged and withdrew my fingers from his. “Do we have a deal?”

  “Not yet.” Faster than I could react, he gripped my hand and yanked me flush against his solid chest. Lips parted, heart hammering, I became lost in his green eyes as we lay nose-to-nose. “Just one taste.” His soft lips brushed against mine.

  Warmth bloomed at every point of contact between us, making the already hot night unbearable. One hand snaked into my dark, curly hair while the other stroked down my spine before grabbing a handful of ass cheek over my dress and pressing me harder against him.

  My soft moan gave him access to deepen the kiss. Warning bells rang in my head, but my heart and everything below the waist urged me to ignore the what-ifs and live in the glorious moment. Because right then, in that moment, I was kissing him and he was kissing me.

  In a controlled roll, he settled me beneath him, his heavy weight pressing my back into the soft cushions.

  “Want to rethink the no touching, Beks?” he said against my lips before sucking down my neck. “I sure as hell wish you would. No way I'll be able to keep my hands off you. Not when you look like this, when you smell fucking delicious.”

  A soft content sigh passed my lips. Who was I kidding? He was right.

  “Mr. Graves?”

  At the familiar voice, my eyes popped open and focused in the direction of faint steps.

  Shit.

  Shoving against Brenton's shoulders, I leveraged him off just in time to crawl over the back of the wicker couch and fall to the pool’s concrete decking.

  A light chuckle sounded above. “You're ridiculous.”

  Staring out from beneath the couch, Brenton's dress shoes pressed to the ground
facing our approaching unexpected visitor.

  “Mr. Graves, there you are,” said the head housekeeper. “Your father said you headed out this way.”

  “Something I can do for you, Mrs. Hathway?” There was no mistaking the lingering hint of humor in his tone.

  Bastard.

  If he knew the rumor mill started and stopped with her, he wouldn't find all this funny. The sweet, kind, judgy woman standing in front of him single-handedly ruined me. Okay, technically I did that to myself, but she was the one who spread the news around town. Wonder what Brenton would think of her if he knew that tidbit.

  “Oh no. I was about to turn in and wanted to see if you needed anything else from the other staff or me.”

  Needed anything? Wow. How nice would it be to have someone check in on you? I'd love to raise my hand and ask for a bottle or two of wine, but considering I went to all the trouble to hide, I'd better not. This woman was public enemy number one when it came to who could not know about Brenton and me talking again.

  So even though I'd forget the glass and drink straight from the bottle right now, I'd stay right there sweating on the ground until she left.

  “No, ma'am. I'm fine, thank you for asking. But I guess you should know that I'll be staying for a few days. Until the attorneys come. I'm not sure of my father's plans, but please let the other staff know I'll be here.”

  The slight pause before her response spoke volumes. “Yes, sir, but may I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Your decision to stay, does it have anything to do with that girl Rebeka Harding?”

  Silently I groaned and tapped my forehead against the rough concrete. Seriously, lady? Mind your own damn business and leave so I can crawl back under the sexy beast.

  “That woman, you mean. And no, it doesn't.” No humor remained in his flat tone.

  “Right, sorry, sir. None of my business, I guess.”

  “That's correct. Good night, Mrs. Hathway.”

  Damn.

  Even as her shoes disappeared, I stayed on the ground. What the hell was I doing? It was a terrible idea. Kissing him, being close—I was playing with fire. He was the match and gasoline. Plus, once he remembered what he chose after the accident, what he had me sign, what would he do then?