Author: Aly Martinez
Category: Contemporary
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“It’s good. Oscar is finally moving into his office next week. When I named it Michaels & Company, I had no idea the company part would be so hard to find. But it will be nice not to have to turn away business for a change.”
“Anything else going on in your life that you might feel the need to tell your mom about?”
There it was: the real reason she called.
With the phone wedged between my shoulder and ear, I rinsed the rag out. “You mean like something Cassidy may have told you, but I haven’t yet, so you called and talked my ear off for over an hour until you eventually ran out of things to say so now you’re passive-aggressively asking since I still haven’t spilled the goods?”
“Sure,” she chirped, no shame in her game. “You got anything like that you want to tell me? I’m really more like a friend, you know.”
Grinning, I tossed the dirty cloth into the bucket and flipped the light off. “Hardly and not really.”
“Bowen Alexander Michaels,” she scolded. “Why are you torturing me with this?”
I barked a laugh. “I’m not torturing you. I’m happy, Mom. How much more do you need?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A name, birthdate, and social security number should be plenty.”
My mom was wild in the best possible way. “You are not running a background check on my girlfriend.”
She gasped, and if I knew her at all, tears were already forming in her eyes. “Your girlfriend?”
“Well, technically, she likes to be called Madame Mouthy but yes. Same thing. It’s still new, but she’s incredible, so I didn’t waste any time making my move.”
“Oh, honey,” she breathed, but it did nothing to hide her pure joy—or relief. “I… You… This is…wonderful. Just absolutely fantastic news.”
“Are you crying?”
“I’m your mother. Of course I’m crying.”
“I thought you were more of a friend.”
“As your friend, shut up when your mother is crying.”
Sugar barked when there was a sudden knock at my door. Remi wasn’t supposed to be there for at least another hour, but maybe hell had frozen over and she was early for a change.
“Mom, I gotta go. Someone’s at my door.”
“Don’t you dare drop this on me and run. I need details. What’s her damn name? Where’s she work? What’s her shirt size?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it as though she could get the full force of my side-eye. “What the hell does it matter what size shirt she wears?”
“Christmas will be here before you know it. She can’t be the only one showing up at the family Christmas party without a personalized sweater. She’d be embarrassed!”
“Trust me. Firsthand experience says she is gonna be more embarrassed if you make her wear one of those holiday travesties. It’s not even summer yet. Relax. You’ve got time.”
The knock came again. This time, it was so hard it rattled the windows on the front of the house.
“I’ll fill you in later. It’s not imperative that the entire Michaels family run her off already.”
“Bowen!”
“Love you, but I gotta go!” I hung up before she could interrogate me further—and before whoever the hell was at my door could break the son of a bitch down.
Just as my hand landed on the knob, there was another loud pounding.
“What the hell?” I rumbled, snatching it open.
There was no time to even register who was on the other side before pain exploded at my cheek. I stumbled, my shoulder hitting the wall beside the door to keep my balance.
Through my dizziness, I was able to make out Aaron’s voice as he yelled, “What the fuck, Mark!”
Ah, yes. Mark. Suddenly, all the who, what, and whys made a lot more sense.
“What the hell did you do!” he roared, his hand wrapping around my throat as he pinned me to the wall.
I was a big guy, tall with lean muscles, but Mark was like an NFL linebacker. Regardless, none of that stopped me from rearing back and cracking him in the jaw.
“Motherfucker!” he boomed, never releasing me.
Well, not until Clyde finally responded to Sugar’s yaps and came barreling down the hall, his teeth bared, a deep, malevolent bark echoing through the living room. Even amongst the chaos, I found it interesting that my old pooch was a protector after all.
“Clyde!” I called, not wanting to add a dog attack to this clusterfuck. “Sit.”
He slowed to a jog, still growling at Mark as he parked his ass beside my foot.
Mark had the good sense to shove off me, and Aaron quickly slid between us with his arms stretched wide to separate me from him.
“Can we all just calm down?” Aaron snapped.
“You son of a bitch,” Mark seethed around his buddy. “What the fuck is going through your head right now? Please. Just make this make sense. What? Your dick got hard, and suddenly that’s all that fucking matters?”
My blood boiled. “You better watch your fucking mouth. It’s nothing like that, and you know it.”
“I don’t know shit anymore.” Murder showing on his face, he dove back at me.
I easily dodged him, but Clyde jumped on his hind legs and snapped at his hand. In desperate need of space to ensure Mark left with all of his appendages, I grabbed Clyde’s collar and walked him to the back door. Sugar all too happily trotted out behind him.
I slammed it shut and planted my hands on my hips before giving the asshole my attention back. “Would you fucking relax?” I flashed Aaron a glare. “Great job keeping your mouth shut.”
“Oh, don’t you dare pin this on me. I didn’t say a damn word. She hasn’t been home in a week. What the hell did you expect?”
Mark laughed without humor. “You better start talking fast. I have never in all my life wanted to kill a man more. You gave me your word. You gave all of us your word.”
“And I kept my word!” I roared, my patience snapping. “Even when it fucking corroded me from the inside out, I kept my head down and let her live her life. But this wasn’t my choice. She came to me. She was relentless.” My chest heaving, I let six months of agony spill from my lips. “Seeing her at the courthouse nearly destroyed me. But I did it. I walked away. Just like I promised. But then, at McMurphy’s, she appeared out of nowhere, slid right up beside me, talking a mile a minute. I tried so Goddamn hard to run her off. Honest to God, I was burning at the stake each time her eyes dimmed. But still, I kept my word because that was what was best for her.”
“And yet here we are, with her sharing your bed.”
“What the hell did you expect me to do? You know Remi. There is no stopping her once she sets her mind to something. She showed up at my office, all lovestruck and starry-eyed.” I dug my wallet out of my back pocket, fished out the safety pin, and held it in the air. “She gave this back to me. You can’t possibly look me in the eye and tell me that doesn’t mean something?”
Aaron swallowed hard and cut his gaze to the floor. It was obviously not the first time he’d heard this story.
Mark’s chin jerked to the side, his mouth a hard slash. “Are you… Are you saying she remembers?”
My stomach knotted. The burning ashes of all the hope I’d been carrying since she’d waltzed back into my life rained down over me, searing my skin. “No. There’s nothing there. For fuck’s sake, she brought me peanut butter cookies. But she’s drawn to me in ways she can’t explain.” I swallowed past the razor blades in my throat. “Look, after the plane crash, when we realized she’d lost her memory, I promised I would stay away as long as she didn’t remember. But she’s in there. She’s not the same Sally I fell in love with, but for fuck’s sake, she’s still in love with me.”
Mark’s jaw ticked at the hinges. “You selfish bastard. You’re gonna ruin her life. We hit the fucking lottery when she lost that year of her memories. We got her back, and you’re going to throw that away over some ridiculous notion of love? Do you even fucking remember how
bad it got after she disappeared?”
My hand flexed at my side, fighting the urge to bury it in his face again. “I don’t need a refresher course. I was there every Goddamn agonizing day. I still can’t look at my hands without seeing them covered in her blood.”
“If she remembers, we all risk losing her again.”
He wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already considered. After Remi had given me the safety pin back, I’d spent the entire night pacing my house and berating myself for even considering letting her back into my life. The whole reason I’d agreed to walk away to begin with was because I didn’t exist in the version of her life she remembered after the plane crash. And neither did the five horrific days when she’d been kidnapped. She wasn’t haunted by fear or trauma. She wasn’t angry because the authorities didn’t believe her. Nor was she overwhelmed with guilt for not being able to save the woman crying in the corner. It was as if her brain had rebooted, deleting the timeline in which the world had broken her.
The doctors had told us talking about the time she’d lost and showing her pictures might help jog her memory.
But all we’d wanted was for her to forget. Permanently.
It was all too easy to remove me from her life. She had decades of memories with Mark, Aaron, and her dad before the plane crash. There were only three weeks with me that weren’t tangled up in the horror of the week she’d been taken.
Everything about us had been wrapped in tragedy.
The fear was that my presence would trigger something in her brain.
And when I saw her smiling outside that hospital, and I mean, really smiling—like the Sally I’d fallen in love with damn near the minute I’d laid eyes on her—I knew that was not a chance I could take.
During the depths of her darkness, I told her there was absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do to take the pain away. As it turned out, that included letting her go.
But knowing she was out there, happy and healthy, breathing easy, surrounded by people who loved her—that was all I’d needed. I never stopped loving her though. Never stopped wishing she’d come back to me. It was wholly selfish, yet I still dreamed.
But what if we could have it all now?
She didn’t remember our inside jokes, late-night soul-baring conversations, or even how I’d proposed. Sally, the woman I had spent nine months falling in love with, was gone. But Remi was very much alive and well. She didn’t have to remember. She was already on the verge of falling for me again. Maybe this was the miracle we’d all been praying for.
Mark and Aaron might not have agreed with what I was doing, but I didn’t give the first fuck what they thought. They’d gotten to keep her. They hadn’t spent the last six months with a gaping hole in their chest, struggling for one single breath that actually contained oxygen. Fuck them and anyone else who thought they could stand in my way.
The world owes you nothing.
But somehow, it had still given her back to me.
Bowen
Nine months before the plane crash…
“Thanks, but I’m good,” she said from the end of the bar, shooting down her fifth man for the evening.
Not that I had been keeping count. Or watching her—intently—in the mirror behind the bar for the last hour. Thank fuck for the TV screen mounted on the wall or I would have looked like the creep I so clearly was.
“You sure?” Baldy Can’t Take a Hint asked.
Lifting the full appletini she’d been nursing since she sat down, she smiled, and to her credit, it at least appeared genuine. “I’m all set, but I appreciate the offer.”
I cringed, embarrassed for the poor schlub as he started to sit down on the stool beside her. He could have stood there all night and she wouldn’t have asked him to leave. But this, I’d learned, she would shut down quick.
Extending her hand over the stool, she stopped him. “Actually, I’m expecting someone.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding surprised.
Come on, dude.
She was fucking stunning. Sexy, long blond hair. Blue eyes that could bring a man to his knees. Long black dress with thin straps that exposed enough cleavage to be mouth-watering but still keep my mind racing for what else was hiding beneath.
Of course she was expecting someone. Women like that didn’t just sit at a bar alone, waiting for the first chump to ask to buy her a drink.
My whole body jerked when her gaze suddenly flicked up, colliding with mine in the mirror. As much as self-preservation told me not to, I held it for a beat, unable to look away. She was smiling, but that wasn’t new just because her eyes were aimed at me. Still, it felt like I’d been slapped by a heat wave.
She turned her attention back to the guy. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“No biggy.” He shrugged, his ego visibly deflated. “Have a good night.”
“You too,” she chirped.
Defeated, he walked away like the parade of men before him.
And just like with all the others, my lips twitched with a grin.
I should have left over an hour ago. Technically, I’d asked for my check before the blond goddess had walked in. One glance and I wasn’t going anywhere. Until I figured out who she was waiting for—a friend or the luckiest bastard in existence—my ass was glued to that stool.
Staring blankly at the sports highlight reel on TV, I turned my glass of whiskey in my fingers.
“All right,” she said from an alarmingly close proximity.
I swung my head to the side and found her sitting next to me. Like, right fucking next to me, her soft floral scent filling my senses.
“You’re gonna play the strong, silent type. Don’t worry. I like it.” She smiled. Bright. White. Life-altering.
Fuck me, she was even more beautiful up close.
“Are you waiting on someone?” she asked. “Friend? Wife? Girlfriend?” She paused and slanted her head. “Boyfriend?”
My gaze dipped to her lips. “None of the above. But I thought you were expecting someone.”
“Well, I was. Then I realized he would rather eye-fuck me in the mirror than come over and start a conversation.”
Busted. And I couldn’t even be mad about it.
“You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are.” She lifted her martini glass for a sip, and when she put it down, it was almost empty. She must have thrown it back before walking over. Probably a little liquid courage. And fucking hell, wasn’t that a confidence booster.
“You’re sitting here, so I guess it worked.” I winked.
She clinked the rim of her glass with mine. “Touché. Maybe you’re a genius after all.”
Probably not a genius, but I was smart enough to know she needed another drink. My small talk was not sharp enough to keep her entertained for long. I lifted my chin at the bartender, and he immediately came walking over.
“Can I get an appletini?” I asked.
He nodded and wandered away. Just another day at work for him.
“So, do you come here often?” I asked her. No, seriously. That was what I said. See the aforementioned part about my small talk.
“Nope,” she replied, popping the P. “I was showing a condo down by that new plant shop. I happened to see you through the window on the way to my car. Figured a drink couldn’t hurt.”
My brows shot up. “Oh, so you were actually the creeper in this scenario?”
“Guilty.” She lifted one shoulder. “Honestly, I had no choice though. A gorgeous man in a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up? I’m surprised I didn’t have to wait in line.”
“Says the woman who slayed the hearts of half the men in this bar.”
Confident and brazen, she beamed at me. “All but the one I wanted.”
Fucking fuck me. Pink cheeks, full lips. Damn, she was gorgeous.
“Then the sleeves did their job.”
She giggled and shook her head just as the bartender set the appletini down in front of me.
“You want to open your tab again?” he as
ked.
“Yeah,” I replied, never tearing my eyes off her.
She leaned toward me, resting her foot on the bottom rung of my stool. “From whiskey to appletini. That’s an interesting…and appalling transition.”
Shaking my head, I slid the drink her way. “It’s for you.”
“Ohhh,” she breathed, resting a hand over her heart. “That’s sweet. But seriously gross.”
“Wait. Isn’t that what you were drinking?”
“Not even close.” She pushed the drink away. “I’m usually a wine girl, but they’re out of the New Zealand Sav Blanc tonight so I had to make do. Cosmo, hold the cranberry, because ew. Replace it with sweet-and-sour mix, which I would like to note they do not make from scratch here. And instead of an orange twist, I asked for a lime.”
My head snapped back. “What in Sally Albright hell kind of drink order is that?”
Her eyes flared comically wide, and her jaw slacked open. “What did you say?”
I waved her off. “She’s a character from—”
“When Harry Met Sally,” we said in unison.
She stared at me as though she had a front-row seat to a bigfoot spotting. “No way. No freaking way.” She narrowed her eyes. “Where did they first meet before driving to New York?”
I grinned. Finally, growing up being tortured by my older sister was paying off for me. “Chicago.”
“The orgasm?”
“Katz’s Deli.”
She drew in a sharp breath, her breasts stretching the limits of her dress. “Too much pepper?”
“Paprikash.”
“Oh my God!” She slapped a hand over her mouth.
I turned on the stool, and my knees brushed hers. Quite proud of myself, I leaned in close and lowered my voice. “Did I pass?”
Suddenly, she stood, her stool nearly falling over behind her. “I need to leave.”
My arrogance fizzled. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m twenty-eight,” she announced as if it answered all of life’s great questions.
Twisting my lips, I replied, “And I’m thirty-one.”
“Fuck.” She stood up and snatched her purse off the bar. After fishing her hand around inside, she pulled a few bills out and threw them onto the counter.