by Susan Stoker
“It’s not a good idea to start dating him, having sex, if he doesn’t remember you. What would happen if he did suddenly remember? It could be a disaster. He might think you were deceiving him…which you would be,” Rayne argued.
“Maybe. It’s a chance I’m willing to take. If our roles were reversed, and I lost my memory, I’d rather Truck seduced me and I woke up in his bed than in some stranger’s. Can you imagine how awful that would be? To regain your memory and realize you’d slept with someone other than your wife? He’d be devastated. I know him. Besides, there’s no way I’m gonna let any bar-hopper bitch get with my man,” Mary finished heatedly.
When Rayne didn’t answer, but instead smiled a weird smile at her, Mary asked belligerently, “What?”
“It’s just that the shoe is on the other foot.”
“Whatever.”
“No, seriously. For years, Truck has pursued you. He’s gone out of his way to do everything he can think of to make you his. And now, here you are, doing the same thing in reverse. Calling him your man. Claiming him. It’s kinda funny.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“Yeah, Mare, it is. And forgive me for being a bitch, but it serves you right.”
Mary knew she should be pissed at her friend for being so blunt, but she couldn’t be. Her lips twitched, then curved upward in a grin. Then she was laughing. Rayne joined in and the two of them laughed until they were crying.
“Shit. Anyone who says karma doesn’t exist is so fucking wrong,” Mary said when she’d controlled herself.
“Right? Seriously, it so does. But you got this, Mary. I’ll help any way I can.”
“You’ll go to the bar with me this weekend?”
Rayne sighed in mock exasperation. “You know I will. I’ll see if Harley or any of the others want to come too. We’ll make it a girls’ night out.”
“Thank you,” Mary said with heartfelt gratitude. She had no idea what she’d do without Rayne. She’d missed her so much over the last couple months. She’d been an idiot to push her out of her life when she’d needed her the most.
“I’m headed out on an overnight on Sunday though,” Rayne warned her. “It’s a flight to New York City. So you’ll have to continue Operation Make Truck Remember without me.”
“I’ll text you updates.”
“You better.”
The two women hugged and Mary waved as she got in her car and started the engine. She had to get back to work as her lunch hour was over. Her boss had been a little more lenient after the robbery, but Mary could tell her gratefulness no one had gotten hurt was waning, and her bitchy attitude would return sooner rather than later.
The news had reported that the two men who’d held up the bank were members of a local gang and the robbery was some sort of initiation or something. They were in jail…but since then, there had been two different instances of customers coming in wanting to rent safety-deposit boxes that hadn’t sat well with Mary. They’d both worn nice slacks, long-sleeve shirts, and ties, but Mary had seen tattoos on the sides of their necks that made her nervous.
She was profiling, and she knew it, but she couldn’t shake the weird feeling about the men. She’d mentioned it to her manager, but the woman had told her she was being paranoid.
There was nothing Mary could do about it. If someone wanted to rent a safety-deposit box, and was able to pay for it, it didn’t matter if they were the President of the United States or a felon. There was no discrimination at the bank.
Thinking about work made Mary think about Truck again. And thinking about Truck made her more determined than ever to make him want her. Even if he only wanted to sleep with her, that was better than nothing, and it would keep any other woman from warming his bed. And if Truck, God forbid, never regained his memory, she’d do whatever she could to start their life over. Even if she had to propose to him this time.
Chapter Eight
Truck was looking forward to the night. He enjoyed hanging out with his friends at the bar near post. It wasn’t the most trendy place, pretty much a hole in the wall, but he and the others hung out there all the time, and he’d even picked up a girl or two. Of course, Hollywood usually got first choice of the women since he looked like a fucking movie star, but inevitably there’d be someone who was willing to go home with him, despite his scars.
Hollywood and Fletch weren’t there tonight though. It seemed they weren’t partiers anymore. Truck could understand Fletch not wanting to come, but Hollywood bailing surprised him. He’d made up some excuse that sounded totally made up, but Truck didn’t want to think about what the real reason was behind his friend bailing. He was sure it had to do with whatever everyone was keeping from him, but for once, he didn’t want to worry about it. Ghost was there, as were Beatle, Blade, and Coach.
Truck didn’t want to worry about the doctor telling him there was a chance he’d never regain the three years he’d lost. Or about how his head was still throbbing…had never stopped throbbing since he’d woken up in Africa in the middle of the op. All he wanted to do was hang with his friends, flirt with some women, and try to feel normal once again.
He was going stir crazy sitting in his apartment. There were times he’d look around and feel as if something was missing…but as soon as he’d have the feeling, it would disappear. Every now and then, he’d also swear he could smell some sort of flowery scent, but when he inhaled deeply, it was gone.
Truck wanted to be back at work, but he still had a few weeks to go before the doctor allowed him to return on a part-time basis. He’d also been warned about drinking alcohol, but he needed a beer. Just one. He hated how off-kilter he felt.
Truck had been playing darts with the others for about half an hour when he felt a hand on his back.
Resisting the urge to turn and take out the person with his leg, Truck turned to see who was dumb enough to touch him while he was holding, and about to throw, a lethal dart.
A woman was standing there, one he didn’t recognize. Not that that meant much, since he didn’t recognize a lot of people these days. She had long brown hair and had curves in all the right places. She had a nice rack and was pretty. She was wearing a blouse that was a bit too low cut for an innocent night out. The look in her eyes as she ran them up and down his body made it clear what she wanted from him.
In the past, Truck wouldn’t have hesitated to throw his arm around her shoulders and pull her in close. Hell, if a woman hit on him, Truck was all about seeing if they had enough chemistry to take her home, but tonight felt different.
He was different.
Truck had no idea why, but the thought of taking a woman home, this woman home, didn’t sit right with him.
“Hey,” the woman drawled as she flirtatiously ran a finger up his biceps.
“Hey,” Truck returned, and his eyes skipped to Ghost. The other man was doing his best to ignore Truck and the woman at his side. He’d get no help there.
“My name’s Ruth,” the woman said.
“Truck,” he said in return.
“Truck,” she purred. “I like it. Maybe later you can rev my engine.”
Truck wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained. Barely.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Ruth asked. “You seem to be the only one not drinking over here.” She giggled. A high-pitch sound that grated on Truck’s nerves.
“No thanks,” he told her, not wanting to get into why he wasn’t drinking. He’d finished the one and only beer he was going to have. It tasted awesome, but like the doctor had warned, it also made his head throb more.
“Come on,” she cajoled, then leaned into him, pushing her tits together so her cleavage was prominently on display. “Have a drink with me.”
“I’m in the middle of a game,” he told the woman, who was now officially annoying him.
“Okay, babe. If it’s all right with you, I’ll just sit over here and watch.” Her eyes went back down his body and rested on his crotch for a beat too long. She licked her
lips then looked back up at him.
Truck mentally sighed. She was way too obvious. She wanted to see his cock. Wanted to know if it was as big as he was. He’d encountered women like her all too often. They didn’t care about him, per se, they just wanted to sleep with the giant and get their freak on. One such woman had even told him it was a good thing he had a big dick since his face was so fucked up.
He turned to Beatle and quipped, “I see this hasn’t changed in the last three years.”
Beatle almost spit out the beer he’d just taken a sip of, but managed to swallow it so he didn’t spew all over the bar table they were standing near.
The other men chuckled, but didn’t help him get rid of the annoying woman. Knowing he couldn’t be rude—it just wasn’t his style—he merely nodded at the woman, and then sighed in frustration when she beamed up at him and shimmied onto one of the barstools nearby. She leaned over until her elbow was resting on her knee, which made her tits just about fall out of the shirt she was wearing.
Truck turned his back on her and rolled his eyes at Blade. The other man smirked at him, then said, “Still your turn, Truck.”
“Right,” he said, then tried to turn his concentration back to the game. Darts wasn’t exactly a challenge for the Deltas, all of them got bullseyes with almost every throw, but it passed the time. And it got Truck out of his apartment…which had been his goal. For the first time that week, he felt almost normal.
Going out had been a great idea. Spending time with his buddies in their usual hangout felt like putting on an old familiar coat. He liked it. Except for the bar bitch waiting nearby. He could practically feel her stripping him with her eyes. If she thought he would be taking her home later, she’d be extremely disappointed.
She could go home with one of the others. Maybe Coach would like her. He liked chicks with dark hair.
“That fucking bitch,” Mary said between clenched teeth.
Rayne, Casey, Wendy, Harley, and Mary were sitting on the other side of the bar. They’d gotten there before the men and, so far, had kept their presence low key.
But Mary knew that was about to end.
“Easy, Mary,” Rayne soothed. “Remember, we talked about this. You don’t want Truck’s first—well, second impression to be of you rolling around on the floor fighting.”
“She touched him,” Mary bit out. “She knows he’s taken, and she fucking touched him. And her boobs are about to fall out of her bra. It’s disgusting.”
“He doesn’t look all that interested,” Casey observed. “I mean, she’s practically throwing herself at him, and he hasn’t looked at her again.”
“He made it more than clear he was with me at the bank that day,” Mary went on. One of her hands was clenched into a tight fist on her lap and the other clutched her bottle of beer.
“She either has balls of steel to come on to him after the smackdown you told us Truck gave her,” Wendy said, “or she somehow heard about his amnesia and is trying to take advantage.”
“How would she have heard about it? It’s not like it was in the papers or anything,” Mary said. “But whichever’s the case, it makes her a bigger bitch than I already thought she was if she’s trying to get with my man. I was nice last time. Wasn’t I nice at the bank, Rayne?” Mary asked.
“You were,” her friend immediately agreed. “I was kinda surprised when you told me what happened, actually. But then again, you said that Truck told her in no uncertain terms he was with you and that was that.”
Mary inwardly seethed. She took a sip of her beer and tried to calm herself. It was bad enough the paramedic had dared to hit on Truck when they were at the bank and she was supposed to be working, but to go up to him bold as brass tonight, and hit on him a second time, was low. Really low.
“So, what’s the plan tonight?” Harley asked. “Is there a plan?”
The four women all looked at Mary. “The plan is for me to introduce myself to Truck and flirt with him.”
Casey’s eyes got big. “Are you gonna sleep with him?”
Mary almost choked on her beer. After swallowing, she said, “No. Jeez. I’m just gonna flirt with him and see if I can catch his interest. I hadn’t really thought about anything else yet. God.”
“She hasn’t slept with him yet,” Rayne informed the others.
Mary whipped her head around and stared at her best friend incredulously. “Rayne!”
“What?” she asked not so innocently.
“I really don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Look, if you can’t talk to your friends, who can you talk to?”
Mary scrubbed a hand over her face and stared down at the scarred table. “It’s embarrassing.”
Rayne covered her hand with her own and said, “No, it’s not.”
“We’re married. It’s not normal,” Mary insisted.
“You were sick,” Harley said. “When were you supposed to have sex? Between bouts of barfing? How about when your chest was so burnt from the radiation your skin was peeling off? Then?”
Mary stared at her in shock. She loved Harley, but the woman wasn’t usually so forward. She was more apt to keep her nose buried in her computer screen writing code for the video games she loved so much. How did she even know that much about breast cancer treatments, anyway?
“Rayne talked to us,” Wendy explained. “She wanted us to understand why you did what you did. It’s not a big deal.”
It wasn’t a big deal? It was a huge fucking deal! She was going to tell everyone eventually, but she wanted it to be on her terms and when she was ready. Mary turned accusing eyes to Rayne. The other woman held up her hands in capitulation, but she was grinning and didn’t seem the least bit repentant for sharing such intimate things with the others.
“It’s not a big deal that you guys haven’t slept together yet,” Rayne said. “Besides, we all know you’re not a one-night stand kind of woman.”
“I used to be,” Mary mumbled.
“Yeah, before you met Truck,” Rayne reiterated. “But all that aside, I think your plan is good. I argued with Ghost tonight about Truck. I told him that he was babying him too much. I asked how he’d feel if it was him who’d lost his memory, and his friends didn’t tell him about me.”
“And how did he take that?” Harley asked.
Rayne wrinkled her nose. “He wasn’t thrilled. But seriously. Those guys are taking this too far. I mean, yeah, they shouldn’t give him too much information at one time, but admitting that they have girlfriends, or are married, isn’t going to kill Truck. Ghost didn’t agree.”
Mary slumped in her seat. “So if the guys don’t want me around him, this’ll never work.”
“What the hell?” Rayne said harshly.
Everyone’s eyes went to her.
“Mary, you can’t seriously be giving up. What happened to the take-no-prisoners best friend I used to know? The one who told me to go for it when I texted you about Ghost when I was in London? The woman who wasn’t afraid to stand up for what she wanted and to hell with the consequences? I know I was the one who tried to talk you out of coming tonight, but I can admit I was wrong about that. I have a feeling the more Truck sees you, the more curious he’ll be. All that notwithstanding, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’ve gotten soft. And it isn’t pretty. I want my bitch friend back.”
“First of all, I didn’t say I was giving up,” Mary huffed. “I was inferring that trying to get to know Truck in public places like this bar, with all the guys watching us, isn’t going to work. But secondly…” Mary glared at Rayne. “You want the bitch?”
“Yes!” Rayne snapped. “At least that Mary wasn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with Ghost when he was being an ass. She had no problem standing up to Truck and the others when they were being idiots. Well, they’re being idiots again, and you’re sitting here all frowny-faced and sad. I don’t necessarily like it when you make a scene, but now, in this case, I’m not sure it wouldn’t be warranted.”
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Mary wanted to protest. Wanted to tell Rayne that she was scared no matter what she did, Truck wouldn’t take a second look at her. That he’d pick Ruth the paramedic over her. But something deep inside stirred at her best friend’s words. She’d had a hell of a year, but the cancer was behind her now. Hadn’t she decided earlier in the week that she was going to fight for Truck? So why was she sitting here moping? Why wasn’t she standing up to Ghost and the others? She was the one married to Truck. Not them.
“You’re right.”
“Damn straight, I’m right,” Rayne fired back.
Mary’s lips twitched and she turned to look in Truck’s direction—just in time to see Ruth plastered to his side as she stood on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear before she stepped back, patted his chest, then sauntered off toward the restroom.
“Oh, fuck no,” Mary growled.
“Oh, shit,” Harley said. “You’ve awakened the beast, Rayne.”
Mary downed the rest of her beer then stood and headed for the restroom. She didn’t wait for any of the girls to go with her or to stop her. This shit had to end. Once she took care of the skank trying to steal her man, she’d make sure Ghost and the others knew what she thought of them keeping so many damn secrets from their teammate.
Mary waited outside the bathroom for Ruth to reappear. She was not going to get into this inside the nasty restroom. She’d been in there earlier, and never wanted to have to go in again.
Within minutes, Ruth opened the door and, upon seeing Mary waiting for her with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face, stopped in her tracks.
“That’s right, bitch,” Mary said. “It’s me.”
But Ruth recovered and flipped her hair behind her shoulder and sneered at her. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stay away from my husband,” Mary fired back.
“Doesn’t look like he feels the same.”
Mary stepped into Ruth’s personal space and said in a low, hard tone, “I think he made himself more than clear the other day where things stood with you. Nowhere. He’s mine, and if you insist on embarrassing yourself, you’ll regret it.”
