Forget Me Not

by Madden, J. M.

  "Did you have a good dinner?" Francine asked.

  Lora nodded her head, plopping down into the rocker that Chad pulled up for her. "We did, and we wanted to talk to you about some things. Garrett, have you ever planned a wedding?"

  Garrett looked shocked. "A wedding? No, I've never planned a wedding."

  "Would you like to?"

  The older man blinked, scowled, then looked to Francine. She gave him a smile and a shrug.

  "Let me tell you what we're thinking," Lora told him. "After the round-up is done, we're returning to Denver, but we've been talking. We want to get married, probably sometime in the fall. Not a big blowout or anything like that. Just a small intimate gathering, maybe even in your back garden if you don't mind."

  "In my garden?" Francine gasped.

  Lora nodded. "I love your garden and I know you've put a lot of time into it. It would be a beautiful setting for a ceremony, don't you think?"

  Francine blinked. "It could be stunning. Oh, Garrett, we have so much work to do."

  Chad held up a hand. "Now, we don't want you stressing about this. That wasn't why we approached you about it. We want this to be more party-like." He looked to Lora for confirmation and she nodded, encouraging him. "No big to-do. I would like to invite the Lost and Found guys and their families, some neighbors. Have a grill out, maybe. Oh, and a dance floor."

  Lora felt bad because his parents seemed a little dazed. Maybe this was too much to approach them with. She'd wanted to give Garrett a purpose, but didn't want to overwhelm him. But then he smiled. No, he grinned, and life came into his eyes. "You would let us do this?"

  "Yes. I get to pick out the dress but you can build the wedding around it. Would that be okay?"

  Garrett nodded. "That sounds wonderful. Are you sure you trust us to do this?"

  "I am. Because the little details don't matter to me, just that I'm married to Chad at the end of the ceremony."

  Garrett glanced between them. "Well, then, you'll get your wedding."

  "I'll call the accountant this week to set up a new account that you guys can pull from for expenses. I'll make sure I won't be able to see anything on it so that it will stay secret."

  "Are you sure you want us to do this, Lora? A wedding is an important part of a woman's life."

  She smiled at Francine, a little sad. "I had a wedding once with all the trimmings, and it didn't pan out. I want it much more simple this time. More family oriented. I would love for Mercy to be involved somehow."

  Francine retrieved a notepad from the house and they began making notes. Lora found that she had several strong ideas and must haves, more than she expected actually. And Chad had a few requests as well. Luckily, they were in line with each other.

  By the time they began to wind down, the focus of Garrett's time looking forward was on the wedding. With his arm bandaged the way it was, though, it basically meant he was doing research.

  "Have you ever used Pinterest?" Lora asked him.

  "No. What's that?"

  It took her another half hour to show him the Pinterest app on the brand-new-in-the-package-tablet Cheyenne had gotten him last year for his birthday, and that he'd never opened. It took Chad just a few minutes to set it up with an account and a new email, then start installing apps. Garrett found that by propping the tablet on his crossed knee he was able to operate it. And a whole new world opened up to him.

  Mercy came out at one point and wished everyone a good night, then tromped up the stairs to her bedroom.

  Chad and Lora eventually made their escapes, long after night had fallen. Garrett waved goodbye absently, but Francine blew them a kiss and mouthed 'thank-you'. Maybe if Garrett was absorbed in this, he wouldn't be so concerned with the ranch.

  They headed into the house but Lora didn't let Chad go up the stairs. Instead she tugged him out the back door. She led him along the paver path to the hot tub gazebo on the back grass.

  "Oh, what do you have in mind, future Mrs. Lowell?"

  With a flirty glance she entered the gazebo, dropping her shirt and jeans as she entered. Chad was right on her heels and he whistled when she turned to pose for him.

  The one-piece pale green bathing suit should have been demure, and it was anything but. Her body was covered by a series of straps strategically placed to cover the naughty bits. It was a bit of a pain to get into. Before she climbed into the hot tub, she gave him a flirty look. "Your turn."

  Chad scrambled out of his clothes. "No bathing suit, so I guess I have to go naked."

  He dropped his drawers and she giggled. His dick was very happy to be there right at that moment. Chad took long enough to remove his prosthetic before slipping into the water with her.

  She floated into his waiting arms.

  "I think what you did tonight was incredible," he told her softly, pressing a kiss to her chin.

  Lora's legs wrapped around his waist and his erection settled between her thighs. "I love you. I've loved you for a long time. Some things needed to happen to remind me of that fact, though, and I'm sorry about that."

  "You know," Chad said thoughtfully. "Maybe we should have Forget-me-Nots at the wedding. Just in case."

  She smacked him on the shoulder, laughing. "I poured my heart out tonight and you're making jokes."

  "I just don't want you to take yourself too seriously," he laughed. "You've grown into a strong woman but now you need to loosen up. You're on a good path with these clothes and spur of the moment decisions. Now we need to work on sex in public."

  He ground himself against her and she gasped. "We're not in public," she protested.

  "No, but we're outside at least."

  Pulling her toward him, he took her mouth in an erotic kiss. Lora sighed and her body responded as he spread his hands over her ass. One hand slipped between their bodies to pull the gusset of her bathing suit to the side. Then he began to guide his body into hers. "I love you, Lora."

  "And I love you, Chad."

  They made love slowly, rocking tight. At one point he floated them over to a straighter, shallower, reclining bench. It enabled Lora to sit up straighter on him, taking him deeper and deeper as she rode him. And when they found their release it was timed perfectly, both of them crying out at the same time. It was flawless.

  There were a lot of things about to happen in their future, and Lora wasn’t sure if she was ready for everything, but Chad would be there to guide her through it. They were starting with a solid base of love.

  To be continued…

  The Lost and Found Series

  If this is your first time reading my work, you may want to check out the Lost and Found Series, where you can read Chad and Lora’s original story Embattled Home. Every story is about combat-modified warriors finding love. The first two books are free, and you can find all of them here, at my website.

  www.JMMadden.com

  Afterword

  And for my regular readers-

  You may have noticed a mention of Brian Calvert working on Henry Bright’s embezzlement case. Author Siobhan Muir contacted me one day wondering if she could mention the Lost and Found Group in her new release Star Light, Star Bright. I told her sure, and that I would return the favor. You’ll have to stay tuned because yes, Brian Calvert will be getting his own story!

  In the mean time, if you’d like to check out Siobhan’s work, follow the links below!

  And here’s a blurb for Star Light, Star Bright

  Sometimes the brightest stars need to come home… Henry Bright has a picture-perfect life as a rising star in the country rock scene—fortune, fame, and more lovers than he can shake a stick at. But something is missing. The glitz of Nashville is nothing more than glitter and tinfoil. Searching for authenticity in his life, he completes his DVM in veterinary medicine and returns to Wyoming. He takes a job as a vet at the Triple Star Ranch, hoping to find meaning and connection. He just didn’t expect to find love.

  Trip Colton’s wife died over thirty years ago and he figured
that was it for love. But the moment he meets Henry, he can’t get the younger man off his mind. The problem is, he’s never been attracted to a man before and the realization throws him for a loop. Dating is hard at any age, but Trip’s out of practice and wooing a man is completely different than wooing a woman.

  When Henry’s former manager, Jordie, tracks him to Wyoming and begs the star to come back to the music biz, tensions damage the fragile connection between Henry and Trip. Jordie will do anything to convince Henry to return, even playing on his prejudices and hinting at Trip’s infidelity. But when the bank keeps calling with alerts on Henry’s accounts, he suspects there’s more going on with Jordie than a simple comeback music tour. Ultimately, Henry must choose where his heart lies, and who to trust, before he loses more than his chance at love.

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  Sneak Peek

  And now for a sneak peek of Book One in the Lowells of Honeywell, Texas, Untying His Not. If you’d like to preorder, follow this link.

  June

  “You’re such a fucking joke, Lowell. You and your crippled brother.”

  Brock let the whiskey slide down his throat, wondering who he should swing at first. The big, stupid, quiet guy or the mouthy little shit at his side. They both worked the CrookNeckCreek Ranch, so they were both equally appealing.

  A voice of reason cautioned him that this could turn out badly, so he stayed where he was.

  “I hear he found someone to marry him. Woman must be fugly as all get out. Is that why you been slappin’ paint on that hellhole you call a ranch?”

  Brock set his glass down very carefully on the bar, then turned to face the two men. The little guy it was.

  With a mighty grunt, he drove his fist into Ronnie Critman’s smug face. It was a bit of a reach because Ronnie had positioned himself just behind Beau Green’s massive right arm in the hopes that Beau would take the brunt of whatever was dished out. At least, that was how their little game usually went.

  This time, though, Ronnie must have been feeling too smug. Brock’s fist landed perfectly, Ronnie’s nasal bone collapsing with a satisfying, nauseating crunch. Ronnie went down immediately, and Beau looked on, obviously shocked. Brock grinned and staggered, trying to catch his balance. It didn’t happen though. He was too toasted. As soon as he steadied, Beau got him. With a pile driver punch, Beau popped him twice in quick succession. Both lips split, then he got a fist to the temple, sending him into horrendous pain. But it was pain he’d felt before, so, manageable. Rocking back on his heels he tried to focus his double vision, lifting his fists. But it was too little, too late. Beau drove a fist into his ribs, stealing his wind, then swung wide to catch his jaw from beneath. His head snapped back painfully. Brock went down like a ton of bricks, his vision going dark.

  * * *

  When they got the call for the bar fight at Spur’s mere minutes before her shift ended, Payton wasn’t surprised. It was a Friday night and there wasn’t that much to do in Honeywell, Texas other than hang out with your buddies and retell the same old stories. When you added liquor, though, it always made things more interesting. And it was Murphy’s law that things had to happen just when you didn’t want them to.

  Dropping her iPad into her bag, she straightened in her seat as Charlie jerked to attention. They’d been hanging out in the parking lot of the new Sonic, sipping on milkshakes while they waited for the next call. Now, Charlie started the ambulance and pulled out carefully. When he reached the street, he flipped on the lights and siren and accelerated the big, boxy machine. Spur’s was on the other side of town and out about six miles. If they pushed it they could be there in about ten minutes. Payton keyed the mic to let Donna know they were on their way, then tuned into the police channel.

  Floyd County, Texas Sheriff’s Department boasted twelve employees— a sheriff, five deputies, three radio operators and two detectives. There was normally another road deputy, but she was on maternity leave at the moment. So, they were a little short staffed. Payton heard three voices on the airwaves, though, and wondered what the hell they were getting into. It sounded like the entire department was at Spur’s.

  Then she heard Beau Green’s name. Ah, no wonder they needed so many people to control the situation.

  As they neared their destination her heartbeat picked up. This was the exciting part of the job. The challenging part was yet to come.

  Charlie turned off the siren as they pulled into the lot. There were three police SUVs at the front of the bar, blue lights flashing. The sheriff’s big tan truck was there as well. Beau Green leaned up against the hood of one vehicle, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. There were two cops leaning against his back as they patted him down. Judging by the scowling, belligerent look on his face, it hadn’t been an easy takedown. Payton had seen the look before.

  In school he’d been the stereotypical bully, stealing money so that he could have more to eat at lunch. What Payton hadn’t realized until years later was that he’d had no money to begin with. His mom had never given him any. Yes, he’d been a bully, but he’d been stealing so he could eat. School was the only real food he ever got.

  In junior high she’d been too young to understand how rough he’d had it.

  Beau had never given up his bully ways though.

  And neither had Ronnie, who was currently sitting on a concrete parking curb wailing at the world. He was flailing his arms around and generally being a nuisance, demanding care.

  Same old, same old.

  As she hustled out of the rig, grabbing her bag on the way to the ground, she wondered who the two dickheads had roughed up. That was what they were known for doing, trying to get it over on other people, then acting like they hadn’t done anything wrong.

  The sheriff saw her and waved her toward him. When she drew close he guided her toward the front door of the bar.

  “Just one patient. He hasn’t come around after Beau clocked him.”

  Payton groaned internally. Yeah, that was understandable. Beau’s hands were the size of milk jugs.

  Surprisingly, the lights were on inside the bar. Payton wrinkled her nose as she looked around and realized how gross it was in the light. She ate here sometimes. Ew!

  The sheriff led her around the edge of the long bar and waved to the floor. Payton saw a man lying there, unmoving, booted toes pointed skyward.

  She drew close and dropped to her knees. It was only when she leaned over the patient when she realized who it was. Her stomach clutched in fear.

  Brock Lowell.

  Damn.

  To anyone looking on, they would not have noticed the slight hesitation when she realized who it was needing her care. They wouldn’t realize how badly her heart shuddered when she saw him.

  Payton dragged in a breath and started with the basics. Airway, breathing, circulation. There was a dripping cut on his forehead, and both of his lips were split on the left side. She leaned over to shine the penlight into his eyes. The brilliantly colored Caribbean blue-green iris of his right eye contracted perfectly, and so did the left. Well, that was good. Made his chance of serious concussion a little less. The loss of consciousness was concerning, though.

  For a breathless beat of time, she suddenly realized how close she was to his mouth. It wouldn’t normally be that big of a deal, but she knew how well that mouth could make a woman forget the world.

  Clenching her jaw, she moved on down his body, looking for other injuries. Hands shaking, she reached out to undo the buttons down his chest. The further down she went the more her hands fumbled. Damn it. She shouldn’t be reacting like this. Brock Lowell was an oblivious ass. He’d proven that time and time again. But for some reason he was her personal Kryptonite.

  When she parted the halves of his shirt, she was dismayed to see a purpling bruise on his left rib area. Beau was right handed, so it made sense
that most of Brock’s damage was on that side. She palpated the injury, but he didn’t move. There were no obvious breaks in the skin. She listened to his breathing. There was a bit of a rattle but more like a normal snore.

  She poked him in the shoulder, wondering why he was unconscious. “Brock. Wake up!”

  Thickly lashed lids opened and he stared up, seemingly dazed. Then he stretched his arms above his head and yawned. Mid-yawn he realized he was hurt and winced, curling in on himself.

  “Oh, damn. What the hell?”

  Payton scowled down at him. Had he seriously just been sleeping? “How do you feel?” she snapped.

  He rolled his head and blinked up at her. “Oh, hey, Payton. What are you doing here, sweetness?”

  A little shocked at the endearment, she wondered if he realized what he’d even said. She lifted her brows and looked around pointedly. “Uh, I’m cleaning your ass up off the floor. What are you doing here?”

  Brock lifted his head three inches, did a swivel and dropped back to the ground. “This looks like Spur’s.”

  “It is Spur’s,” she confirmed. “And you just had the crap beaten out of you. Do you remember that?”

  He lifted a broad hand to rub at his face. “Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s coming back to me.”

  Payton refused to respond to the despondency she heard in his voice. He had made his bed. He could lie in it. “You received a heck of a knock on the head, and you might have a couple of broken ribs. I’ll talk to Charlie and we’ll run you into the hospital to get checked out.”

  Brock snorted and curled up into a sitting position. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I’m fine.”

  She watched him try not to react to the pain in his side, but she’d been doing this job long enough that she could see through men and their stubbornness. He winced and his breath hitched in his broad chest. His face went ash white. But he forced his body straight. Then, with a Herculean effort, he climbed to his feet.