by May Gordon
Mended Hearts
Lost Memories Book 1
May Gordon
Copyright © 2018 by May Gordon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Photo: Bigstock Photos
Cover Design: May Gordon
Editor: Elizabeth Neal
Created with Vellum
Mended Hearts
In search of the truth regarding her mother’s disappearance over twenty years ago, Grace heads to a town that could hold the answers she seeks. Along the way, she finds herself stranded when her car breaks down and calls the only local garage for a tow. When help arrives, she comes face to face with a massive, rugged beast of a man named Grant.
When a freak accident leaves Grace with no memory, Grant does the only thing he can think of to keep her close; he tells her she’s his wife.
With their marriage starting off on a lie, and the mystery of her mother’s fate becoming a source of danger for them both, will Grace finally discover the truth? Will Grant still have Grace’s heart when she regains her memory?
Warning: Sweet, sexy and safe read! Happily ever after guaranteed! This author writes what she likes to read. That means there will be instalove, OTT Heroes, and, brace yourselves, virgin characters at times. If none of those float your boat, you might want to find another book. If they do, you're in the right place.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue 1
Epilogue 2
Epilogue 3
About The Author
Chapter 1
Grace
I rest my head against the rental’s steering wheel and inwardly curse. Just my luck that the car breaks down late at night, in the middle of nowhere. I'm a good twenty minutes from the small town of Lake Side, but these quiet country roads give me the creeps.
I grew up in the city, raised by my overbearing snob of a father. I followed his exact plan for me, not knowing what else I should do. Going to an all-girls school, graduating early, attending law school, then working for his firm and one day being his successor. If I’m being honest, I hate everything about my life. It’s not who I am. Like I'm just a passenger in my own life and he’s the driver. I know it's my fault because I've been compliant to all of it. But not anymore.
That's why I'm here when I should be in New York working late. I have a purpose. My mother. She disappeared after I was born according to my father. The story I was told had begun to fall apart as I got older. I’ve been looking for clues since I was sixteen years old. Now, seven years later, I finally found a lead. I tracked down where I think my grandparents use to live; they died five years after my mother went missing. They spent their entire adult lives in Lake Side. I jumped on a plane as soon as I discovered this. I'm still in my work clothes and didn't even pack a bag. I'm hoping this leads me to the truth, so I can finally get closure.
In my heart, I know she’s dead, though I can't explain how, I just do. I sometimes wonder what she was like? I love to paint, doing it in my spare time. All I know is that she did too, and I look like her. I must have gotten everything else from her as well. My father is not a good man. He’s been verbally abusive toward me my whole life, and I wasn't a stranger to the occasional slap when I was disrespectful. His actions over the years lead me to believe he’s capable of some horrifying things. Sometimes I wonder if I’m wrong, and she's alive. Did she run to safety? Is she on some beach sipping margaritas? I can only hope, but my heart feels differently.
Taking a deep breath, I lift my head and grab the small brochure of Lake Side I picked up at the car rental shop. Opening it, I find an ad for the only garage in town. Digging in my purse for my phone, I see twenty missed calls from my father and a few from his goons, Allen and Trevor. I called him before I left, telling him I was going on vacation. I don't think he believed me and I know he wasn’t happy about me leaving New York. But I'm not going to live his version of my life anymore. I dial Grant's Garage, closing my eyes as I listen to the ringing.
"What?" a deep, gravelly voice snaps. I'm shocked by his rudeness, but also distracted by his voice.
"Um, hi," my voice is soft, my nervousness coming through. I curse for having no backbone to even talk to a stranger. I hear the man's voice hitch on the other end. "Hello," I try again.
"What do you need?" The man asks with a lighter voice, though he still sounds grumpy.
"Is this Grant's Grange?"
"Yeah, what do you need?" he asks again, starting to sound annoyed once more. I don't care how sexy his voice is, I promised I would stand up for myself, no longer willing to be a doormat.
"My name's Grace Tabbeth, and I'm in need of a tow. My car is broken down on mile eight north of Lake Side Town." I hear a grunt and some rustling on the other end.
"See you in fifteen," and he hangs up. I stare at my phone in disbelieve and confusion.
"How rude" I grumble to myself.
I lay back on the headrest to wait and take a couple deep breaths. God, I still smell like the plane. I traveled coach because it was a last-minute ticket and I was stuck with a stinky man with wandering eyes. Not to mention the only car they had to rent was this piece of junk. I hear my phone ringing and look down at my hand. My father is blowing it up with nasty voicemails and texts. I don't answer because I'm afraid he might come after me, make me go home, or worse, try and stop me from following this lead. In the past, whenever he discovered I was looking for my mother, he would get furious, and halt all my efforts. I have a feeling he will do anything to hide whatever I'm about to uncover. I take a deep breath and try to get rid of all the anger built up inside me. I'm so tired of being a pushover. I promised myself I would not take it from anymore. I just need two minutes. My rest must have been closer to twenty because I'm startled by a knock on the window. I look up and see a giant looming over me, and scream.
Grant
The past few days, I've hit my limit of bullshit. I've been up for the past twenty-four hours working on an engine, hoping to finally finish the son of the bitch, only to find out I received the wrong parts. Again. Someone scratched the door of my 69' Nova in the parking lot of the hardware store this morning, and I also fired my tow driver for overcharging and keeping the difference. That shit pisses me off.
Now here I am doing a pick up, and all because I was weak due to the angelic voice on the phone. Goddamn, her voice is beautiful, and her name is almost magical. Though I like Gracie even better. Grace Grant sounds perfect. Just that few minutes on the phone almost got me out of my bad mood.
I see her car and pull over. I can barely make out the figure through the window. I climb out of the truck, my large body feeling achy from lack of sleep and working too much. I walk to the side and see her eyes are closed, her head resting against the back of her seat. I tap on her window with three short raps. She startles and let out a scream, clutching her purse and phone. It’s dark, but with my truck lights shining, I can see her face. Delicate, sweet, and beautiful. I swear I start to feel something unknown surge through me. After staring at her for what seems like forever, I finally snap out of it.
"You called for a tow," it co
mes out gruffly, I don't mean it too, it's just how I am. I also feel like an idiot. Why the fuck else would I be here.
"Oh," she says with a sigh of relief. She opens the car, and I step back to give her room. My jaw nearly drops when I see her completely. Even with the shadow of the night, the lights show enough. Grace is tall, at least 5'8”, full, curvy and soft. Glorious red hair trapped in a tight bun. She's wearing a beautifully fitted suit with a skirt that makes my cock rock solid. She is stunning. Suddenly my gut turns, realizing she’s a city girl. I've had enough experience with them coming here for vacation. They treat the locals like shit, acting like we’re below them while they use our lake to relax. I've dealt with some real bitches, both men and woman. Right now, I'm pissed that my cock is hard for one of them, and my heart is doing some shit that makes me feel funny. I hope to God she's the exception. I wouldn't mind kissing the sass out of her, showing her what a real man could give her and not some slick city boy. Now I’m annoyed, thinking of her with another man, and my mood is suddenly sour again.
"Thanks for coming out so fast." She gives me a smile like she doesn't even know how out of my way this shit is. Not that I mind if it's for her. My feelings are a mix of passion and annoyance.
"Sure" I grunt. I see Grace's eyebrows dip as she frowns. I take a closer look, seeing her pearl earrings, perfect pink nails, and diamond tennis bracelet. City girls are all the same; entitled snobs. They take one look at this town, the people like me and spit on us. Only wanting the view for their vacation. Fuck. How could I possibly fall for one of them?
I know I'm not a man of quality. I'm an ex-con. Scruffy and greasy as hell. But maybe she can see past it all. Probably not. Perhaps that's why I'm so pissed. I finally find a woman I'm interested in and know she wouldn’t want anything to do with me. What the fuck could I give her anyways? I own a local garage in a small town.
"I don't know what happened, it just started puttering then died," she says with a little huff.
"Right," I grunt with the annoyance evident in my voice as I prepare the chains for the car. That's when I feel a sharp poke on my shoulder. I turn to see Grace, her expression full of anger.
"What the hell is your problem?" she practically spits at me, not that I wasn't expecting this. I've been an ass since I showed up, but I'm wondering what's got her annoyed besides me.
"That's my line," I snap back at her. I turn to my full height trying to intimidate her; hoping maybe she'll back off. "Just doing my job, Gracie."
She jabs a perfect finger in my chest. "Don't call me that, and my problem is you being a total ass jack for no reason!"
I try not to laugh. "Listen, Gracie, I'm just trying to get your car to my shop. Now get your ass in my truck, then shut up and wait." I growl. Still annoyed, though mostly at myself.
Her jaw goes slack, but she composes herself quickly. "I said don't call me that! I'm so sick and tired of overpowering, pompous men trying to boss me around like I’m nothing or treating me like crap for no reason," she practically yells at me.
Her words make me pause. Is she talking about another man? Does she have a boyfriend? I didn't see a rock on her finger, so she’s apparently not married. I don't understand the jealousy burning in my veins.
"Forget it; I don't need your help. I'll walk to town," Gracie huffs, going to her car and grabbing her purse. Shit. She can't possibly make it to town in those heels, and she doesn’t even have a jacket. Hell, if I'm going to let her walk.
With a big exhale, I follow her "Gracie!" I yell. She flips me the bird and continues. I couldn't help chuckling at that.
Suddenly I see a set of headlights screeching around the corner. The car is swerving and looks out of control. "Gracie!" I holler and start in a dead run, trying to catch up, but I'm not fast enough. The car slams on the breaks and swerves. It sideswipes her, and Grace goes flying into the ditch. I let out a roar and race to her. I hear the car squeal away. Son of a bitch. I gather Grace in my arms, noticing she’s bleeding from a gash on her head. I gently pick her up, checking her carefully. She lets out a moan of pain.
"Don't let him know where I am," she whispers.
I don't know what the fuck she’s talking about, but I won't let anyone touch her. I feel a wave of possession overcome me. She's mine. Nobody will hurt her. Not wanting to jostle her, I slowly grab her purse and carry her to my truck, gently laying her across the passenger seat. I jump behind the wheel, lifting her bleeding head onto my lap, and hightail it to the hospital. I look down at her and something breaks inside me. I'll do everything in my power to make sure she's safe, and after that, I'll take care of her. Forever.
Chapter 2
Grant
She's so much more beautiful in the light, even under these shitty hospital ones. Her hair is a pool of red, so rich and vibrant. She has a bandage on her temple, and a few scrapes on her face, but she still looks breathtaking. Her lips are full and her skin is flawless under those cuts and bruises. I'm pissed at myself. I shouldn't have been fighting with her. Bunch of bullshit. I lean back in my chair next to her bedside. The doctor said it's a miracle she's alive, and her injuries aren’t serious. A concussion, a few stitches in her temple, scrapes, and bruises, but overall a fucking miracle. I rub my hands over my face; I must have lost half my life, seeing the car slide into her. I've never been so scared, and with my past, that's saying something.
An older nurse walks in and gives me a sympathetic smile. She checks the machines, writing stuff on her clipboard. We've been here for hours.
"Mr. Grant, it seems your wife's vitals are holding steady," she says with a smile.
"Thanks," I grunt.
And no, you didn't hear her wrong. They think Grace is my wife. Why? Because I said she was. I don't know why I did, but when they asked my relation to her, it just popped out. I told them she's from out of town, and we were doing the long-distance thing, but she decided to move here. Once I started the lie, the rest fell into place so quickly. I have a strong, protective instinct when it comes to her now, and she's apparently running from something. Or someone. When I laid my eyes on her something clicked inside me, but I was so judgmental that it was clouded, and I'm pissed at myself for it. But I'm not confused any longer. She's mine. End of story.
I'm thankful they didn't ask too many questions. I know Dr. Anders, he brings his ‘56 Bel Air to my shop from time to time. I told them her purse was somewhere at the crash site, instead of in my truck where it truly is. I looked at it, of course. Grace is twenty-three and a high-powered lawyer from New York.
I've been in this town ten years. I'm not known as the friendliest guy; I’m a loner. I keep to myself. Focusing on work. I have a troubled past. I was born and raised in the foster system; they gave me the name Grant Grant. They couldn't even bother to provide a different first and last name. I never stayed in one place for more than a few months. I've experienced abuse from so many families over the years; I just got tired of it. I took off when I was fourteen, lived on the streets, stole cars, sold them, went to jail, got out, repeat. It wasn't until I got out ten years ago from my latest stint that I realized I was tired of the pattern. I wanted to settle down, in a quiet place. So, I gathered my stash of money, moved to Lake Side and just lived my life. So here I am thirty-five, with my own garage and a house I've been rebuilding from scratch but won't live in because it feels empty and big.
Looking at Grace, I see someone who could change that. Once I said her last name was Grant, it was like destiny. As if she was made to be mine. I felt something for her, something profound, surprising myself as I thought I was dead inside. Seeing her hurt wrecks me. I need to do better. She requires my complete dedication.
I'm torn out of my thoughts when Grace stirs, and in one movement I'm at her side, pushing the call button for a nurse. I lean over, stroking her hair gently. She finally opens her eyes, and they shine like big green diamonds, piercing me in my soul. She smiles at me weakly, but it takes my breath away.
"Hi," she says in a frail
voice
"Hi," I repeat, mine sounding the same.
The nurse comes in, saying, "Mrs. Grant, I'm happy to see you’re finally awake. Can I give you a quick check and ask you some questions?”
I barely give the nurse space, I don't want to be away from her. Gracie's eyes never leave mine.
"Mrs. Grant?" Grace questions.
Shit. I didn't think about what would happen when she'd wake up. Suddenly I'm panicked.
"Can you tell me your full name?" The nurse asks. Gracie looks at her, confused.
“No," she shakes her head weakly.
"Can you tell me what month it is?" the nurse asks
"No," she whispers.
"Do you remember anything, dear?"
Gracie shakes her head, then looks at me. She's scared.
"Don't worry, dear, I'll get Dr. Anders, you just rest" she smiles and leaves the room.
I move closer to Gracie and hold of her hand. She smiles at me again. I feel selfish, trying not to feel happy she can’t remember. "How do you feel?"
"Fuzzy and confused…I don't remember anything." She sounds a little panicked. I sit beside her on the bed and put my hand on her face; surprised when she leans into it.
"Shhh, it's all right, I'm here for you, everything is going to be fine."
She smiles, and I can tell she feels reassured.
Her doctor walks in. "Hello, I'm Dr. Anders. I hear you're having some trouble remembering."
Gracie looks at me, then back at the doctor "I don't remember anything at all."
