Memories of Us: A Second Chance, Amnesia Romance Novel

by Kennedy L. Mitchell

  At the quick shake of his head, I cast a final dismissive glare at Daddy and compelled my feet to move. Turning my back to him as I walked away was way more difficult than I expected, but I did it. Somehow, someway, the time with Brenton had strengthened the crumbling confidence Daddy was hell-bent to obliterate.

  On the front porch swing, knees tucked against my chest and a steaming cup of coffee in hand, my tense shoulders finally relaxed, lowering inch by inch away from their permanent residence by my ears.

  The fresh coffee scalded the tip of my tongue at the first hasty sip. Fine. With a longing look, I placed it on the swing beside me and pulled out my phone.

  Six missed texts from the night before.

  Shit.

  Ryder: What the hell is going on? Kyle just got home and said Bradley got his ass kicked and Brenton was THERE, helping you?

  Ryder: You told me you were done with him. Beka, please tell me you're done with him.

  Ryder: Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing right now.

  Ryder: I'm disowning you until you respond.

  Ryder: Okay, that was a lie. I need to know what's going on and that you're okay.

  Ryder: Call me, you hooker!

  The last text made a smile pull at the corners of my lips.

  Me: I'll do a tell-all, but I need donuts. Lots and lots of donuts.

  Ryder: Oh hey. Good to know you're alive. It's not like I was WORRIED or anything.

  Ryder: Thanks for returning my texts last night... oh wait. You didn't. Get your own damn donuts.

  Ryder: Tell me one thing. Were you with him?

  Me: Yes.

  Ryder: You're a hot mess. See you in fifteen.

  Chapter 16

  Brenton

  THE SLOW, CONSTANT throb of my blue-as-shit balls had me adjusting on the leather couch to find a position that would take pressure off the tender boys. Hand wrapped around my swollen nuts, I shifted them back and forth, which only made it worse.

  Fuck the gentleman shit. I should've taken her up on returning the favor. What the hell was I thinking anyway? I always got mine first, and there I was offering up another round for her to have some fun before even thinking about my relief. That woman was fucking with my head, and not in the way I needed.

  Or maybe she was.

  Hell, this was complicated.

  I didn’t do complicated. Order, process, routine—those offered the control I needed. With control, I could keep the constant want for a stiff drink or line of coke for an easy escape at bay. Control offered the safety net I needed to keep from plunging back into a free fall to addiction.

  For the hundredth time that morning, I watched out the large window.

  Who in the hell was over there?

  An older truck had pulled up half an hour before, but I didn’t see who got out. And it was driving me fucking crazy. I should’ve paid attention to the type of truck that dipshit Kyle guy drove last night when I left to change.

  Unfamiliar jealousy swirled in my chest at the mental image of him being with my Beks. Alone. Her dad thought he was the perfect match for her, so maybe he called the guy back under the ruse of checking on Bradley.

  Someone scurried into the living room, but still I kept my attention on the small house and unknown truck. Knowing Dad had left yesterday for Dallas kept me from tensing at the presence of someone in the room.

  “Would you like some lunch, Mr. Graves?” said a soft female voice by my right shoulder.

  “Yes, that would be great. The same that was made for dinner last night, and make extra again, please.”

  “For her?” she asked, drawing my attention.

  The girl couldn't have been more than twenty. Freckles lined her cheekbones, accentuated by her fiery red hair. Under my scrutinizing gaze, she shifted her focus to the floor.

  “Uh, sorry,” she stammered and took a step back. “None of my business.”

  “Wait.” If Beks wouldn't give me the information, maybe this girl could. She was too young to remember what happened thirteen years ago, but I bet there was still gossip around this place. “What do you know about her?”

  The girl’s hazel eyes looked past me to the house I'd been monitoring all morning.

  “Not much, sir. Sorry, I shouldn't—”

  “Stop, please. What do you know?”

  A bit of fear lit in her eyes as she retreated another step.

  Hell.

  Frustrated, I leaned forward and rested my head in my hands.

  “All I know, sir, is in a town like this, what you two did....” Her pause made me sit up straight and swivel on the couch to give her my full attention. “She's always been kind to me, so I won't repeat what they called her, both to her face and behind her back, but she didn't deserve it. We all make mistakes. The whole town turned against her when she needed them the most. If I were her, I wouldn't have ever come back.”

  At that, she vanished around the corner, leaving me more confused than ever.

  CACKLING LAUGHTER MIXED with the rhythmic squeak of metal against metal filled my ears before the two lounging on the porch swing came into view. A wave of relief barreled through at the sight. Not the guy, but it was the feisty tiny woman who gave me hell at the funeral.

  This could be interesting.

  Hopefully Beks had already lessened the woman's disdain toward me by explaining I wasn’t the man I used to be.

  Noticing my approach, Beks paused midconversation, her wild hands up in the air, and smiled. Her friend followed her line of sight and glared with more unease than hatred. It was a start.

  “I brought you lunch.” The tightly wrapped sandwich floated in the air toward Beks and landed beside her on the swing. Not wanting to be within clawing distance of her friend, I collapsed into the porch chair opposite the swing. After a pointed look to the empty donut box at their feet, I leaned back and smirked at the two. “But it looks like I'm a little late. I'm Brenton, by the way.”

  “I know who you are.” Beks rolled her beautiful eyes and shoved her friend's shoulder. “I'm Ryder, the best friend. And just so we're on the same page, Brenton, I don't like you, and I think you'll fuck my friend over again. If you have any respect for her, you'll walk away now and never come back.”

  Holding her hard stare, I smiled my best arrogant asshole smile. “Good for me that your friend doesn't feel the same way.”

  “She should.”

  “Says you.”

  “Um, guys, I’m sitting right here. Listening,” Beks cut in with a laugh.

  The muscles of my jaw twitched as the two whispered back and forth during their long goodbye hug. Before Ryder stepped off the porch, she looked back and said, “See you tonight. We’ll come by and get you.”

  Ryder’s old Ford was halfway down the drive when I glanced at Beks with both brows raised.

  She held up both hands in surrender. “Ryder is a little overprotective,” she said with a shrug. “Thanks for the sandwich. Even though I ate my weight in donuts, I'm somehow hungry again.”

  The first bite prompted the same dick-hardening moan as last night.

  “So good. Thank you again. Did you bring any chips, by chance?”

  I didn’t shield my wide smile at her hopeful tone. “Sorry, no chips. Simply orgasmic seasoned sandwiches.”

  With a huff, Beks uncurled from the swing and marched past me into the house, only to return seconds later with a bag of Cheetos. I watched in disgust as she settled back onto the swing and stuffed the sandwich full of the cheesy chip.

  “Stop staring at me like I asked you to eat my ass,” she said with a smirk. “When you're on the road as much as I am, driving between various clients, you learn how to make the most of your mealtime. Stuffing your sandwich full of chips is one of them, and it's good.”

  “How's your brother doing?” No way would I comment on her ass-eating statement. Not with her father and brother within earshot. If she or any of them knew what I wanted to do to that ass, they'd shoot me before I coul
d convince her how great it would be.

  Fuck.

  My dick throbbed against the zipper of my jeans, desperate to pop out and play. I needed to stop thinking about her ass and staring at her amazing tits. Why didn't she have a bra on anyway? I knew how perfect her breasts were, and there she was taunting me with her perky nipples poking right through the Texas A&M T-shirt.

  The tips of my fingers and tongue tingled with anticipation, eager to feel her again.

  A wadded napkin smacked the side of my face. Knowing full well I was caught staring, a cocky grin spread up my cheeks as I pulled my gaze to meet hers.

  “Don't ask a question if you won't bother listening to the answer,” she said with an eye roll.

  “Then don't taunt me with your perfect nipples poking out, stealing my attention.”

  Beks huffed a laugh around another bite of sandwich and chips. “You're the one who walked over here unannounced. Or did you forget that tidbit.”

  Right. To avoid acknowledging the accuracy of her words, I took a healthy bite of sandwich instead of responding.

  “Bradley is fine. Not great, but fine. Now that we're on the subject, how do you plan on finding the men he owes the money to?” The slight dip of her tone told of her worry, which made my damn day—it meant she did still care about me. I'd begun to think she wasn’t kidding about using me only for my body.

  Did that make me an asshole? Yeah, probably. But I wanted her to care because I did, even though there was no future between us. Her home was here and mine in Kentucky, plus being gone six months to a year at a time on deployments. The army wife life wasn't the life she needed. Beks deserved better than that. Hell, better than me.

  I pushed out of the chair with a stifled groan and collapsed beside her on the swing.

  “I'll talk to your brother, or maybe Kyle can help me. I’ll get it taken care of, and believe me, I've been around worse people, so don't worry.”

  She peered up through dark lashes with those sultry, honey brown eyes. “Okay, no worrying. Listen, this morning I want to find and patch up that injured heifer we found yesterday, and I overheard Daddy talking about some things that need to be done that I'd like to do. Wanna play ranch hand with me for the day?”

  One boot on the ground, I crossed the other over my knee. “Do you ever slow down?”

  “That's life in the country, Sir Fancy Pants. There’s always something that needs to be done, so no. No one around here does.”

  I fixated on her hypnotizing eyes, in awe of the woman she was. Beks had no idea how sexy that drive and work ethic made her. When all I'd been around were Dallas socialites looking for an easy life and military groupies who only wanted someone to provide a stable life, Beks was refreshing.

  But it was also unacceptable for someone like her. Someone who deserved to be cherished and spoiled rotten.

  “Has anyone ever treated you the way you deserve?” I asked as I slid my hand into hers to intertwine her long fingers with mine. “Spoiled you?”

  Her incredulous snort in response made me chuckle.

  “Besides some rich, arrogant bastard buying me a brand-new truck? No, B, and that's okay. I don't need any of that stuff to be happy.”

  “What do you need to be happy?” I asked, truly interested.

  Beks’s thoughtful, deep sigh made uncomfortable pressure build in my chest. Anything she said, I'd give her. Hell, I could give her the entire world on a platter if she just asked. But knowing what little I did about this woman, money wouldn't be a part of the happiness equation.

  “Honestly, that’s a good question. One that I’m not entirely sure on the answer.” She shifted against the wooden slats of the swing to lean against the armrest and tucked her toes under my ass. Dammit, just that simple touch had my finally semi-soft dick stiff again. I needed a long cold shower. Now. “I thought after getting my degree, I'd be happy. Thought after I got into a groove at the practice, I'd be happy. Then I thought after getting closure on our past, I’d finally be happy.”

  “But you're not.”

  Beks’s gaze focused over my shoulder as she tucked a lock of unruly dark brown hair behind her ear. “I'm not unhappy, just... not happy. Being out here though, minus the unpleasant interactions with Daddy, a bit of the happiness I'd lost somewhere along the way has resurfaced. Maybe it's remembering the fond memories of us instead of the bad, or working a piece of land I have pride in.” Honey brown eyes locked with mine. “Or maybe it's you. Being with you the past couple of days reminded me of what true happiness is, of what it feels like to have a permanent smile stuck on my face. I don’t know. Maybe before your grandfather’s funeral, I was simply content.”

  My gaze didn't falter from hers when I responded, “I know what you mean.”

  “Do you though? You have everything you could ever want. How in the hell could you not be happy?”

  I scanned down to her plump pink lips, to her perky perfect breasts, to her delicious center that pushed against the seam of her pajama pants, begging me to lick it. Like Pavlov’s dog, my tongue slid along my lower lip, impatient for another chance to taste her.

  “Money only emphasizes who you already are instead of changing it. You watched my fucked-up family life, saw the life Caleb and I lived. If you’re a mean old bastard who’s unhappy with life, money makes it easier to spread that misery. And I have to think—not that I'd know, of course—that if you're happy, truly happy, the money part isn’t the foundation. It’s just a plus, because that isn't what makes you happy.”

  “Do you want to be happy?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “Yes,” I said, still focused on her crotch. “But it might be too late for me.” Breaking my entranced stare, I flicked my eyes up to her amused smirk. “But it’s not for you. Tomorrow we're getting you out of here. Tomorrow we're doing something just for you.”

  Shock registered on her face as she held out her hands. “No way. You've already done too much with the truck and offering to help—”

  “Tomorrow.” Unable to fight the insistent urge any longer, I leaned forward to seal my mouth over hers. “I need to make some calls,” I said against her lips. “You go change and meet me in the barn. I'm helping you with that chores list today.”

  Without another word, I sucked her bottom lip between mine and shoved off the swing. Halfway to the barn, I glanced back to make sure she was obeying, but instead of finding an empty porch, I saw Beks still in the swing with a broad, happy smile spread across her beautiful face.

  Chapter 17

  Rebeka

  THE HEM OF THE DENIM skirt grazed along the backs of my upper thighs as I smoothed it down with both hands. With a scowl, I glared at my reflection. Last time I wore this skirt, it was looser—damn donuts—but it was the best and only option I had. Paired with a loose white V-neck T-shirt and brown wedges, I was ready for a fun night out on the town.

  Which I was. Especially since Brenton was coming too. Somehow while repairing a small section of mangled fence, I’d mentioned the fun plans for tonight with Ryder and Kyle. It must’ve been the effects of heat exhaustion to mention it, and for Brenton to ask if he could join us.

  Okay, he didn't ask. Brenton Graves doesn't ask—he tells.

  The mental image of Sir Fancy Pants in Dos Amigos mixing and mingling with all the roughnecks and ranch hands made me internally cringe every time I pictured it.

  I shot a worried look to Ryder, who was focused on freshening up her bright red lipstick. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling and stayed there.

  “Listen, don’t worry about me. I'll be nice to the guy, promise. But don't let him being there prevent you from hitting on other guys.” Right, like possessive Brenton would let that happen. I already felt bad for any guy who breathed too close to me. “Because those other guys aren't leaving and could be more than just a fun four-day fling.”

  Ouch. But she was right, even though what Brenton and I felt for each other was deeper than a fling.

  I cringed at her brutal honesty and t
urned back to the mirror. “I know.”

  “Do you?” she said with an annoyed tone that was rare for her to use toward me.

  “No.”

  “That's what I thought. Does he know that?”

  Looking at her sitting on the edge of the bed through the reflection, I gave a noncommittal shrug. “I told him I know he's leaving, and at least this time it wouldn't be a shock. I begged for what happened last night between us. Begged him. Don't make him out to be the bad guy. Before, yes, when he chose his inheritance over the baby and me, he was the bad guy. But now I'm older, he's older, and we're two adults who know what's on the table.”

  The bed squeaked when she pushed off the mattress. Tiny arms wrapped around my waist, and her warm cheek pressed against my bare bicep. “I don't want to see you get hurt again is all.”

  “I missed it.”

  In our reflection, her eyes flicked up to mine. “Missed what?”

  “Being someone’s. I love being in his arms, protected and cherished. It might be a short-lived thing, but it’s amazing feeling this way again. I feel wanted, desired every time we’re together. I never want it to end.”

  My vision blurred as I stared unseeing at our reflection.

  Was I an idiot for playing with the same fire that burned me before?

  The sun had already set, the heat from the day less brutal, when we stepped through the front door out onto the porch. I paused to watch Brenton and Kyle in an in-depth discussion. Both the men’s brows were furrowed, scowls of concentration on their faces. Brenton's eyes flicked over to where I stood just outside the door. Warmth bloomed in my stomach, twisting and turning at his unabashed perusal up my bare legs.

  “We're driving separate,” he announced to the other two, keeping his heated gaze locked with mine. Each stomp of his boots made my heart skip, inching up the anticipation of what naughty things he had in mind. A callused hand wrapped around mine as he passed to tug me along with him.