by Suzan Butler, Emily Ryan-Davis, Cari Quinn, Vivienne Westlake, Sadie Haller, Holley Trent
She sniffled. “Yeah, this memory thing is called dissociative amnesia. There’s really a name for it.”
“How ’bout that, huh? I figured there might be.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy. Looks like it’s genetic, too. Usually triggered by trauma. Stress. I guess that’s why Mama’s out of the loop so much. I’m trying to get her to go with me to therapy. No luck so far.”
“I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself. I gotta say I think about quitting this gig so I can make sure I’m always nearby. So you don’t walk into traffic like you said.”
She laughed, and sniffled again. “You don’t mean that.”
Today, he did.
“Besides, I’ve got a new buddy in the kitchen at work. Chef has tasked her with keeping me out of trouble. She’s one of those mother hen types who’s always brooding, anyway.”
“Are you happier now? In the kitchen, I mean.”
“Yeah. I’m happier now.”
“Good. Hey, there’s a gift for you at my place. You know the big cookie jar I store ammo in?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s in there. Look the next time you go over.”
“I’ll go tomorrow after work.”
“Okay.” He wished he could be there to give it to her in person, but he didn’t want to wait for her to have what was inside.
He blew out a ragged exhale and walked to the bathroom. He flicked on the light and rooted in his toiletry bag for the last of the Benadryl. Living in pseudo-squalor may have upped his credibility with the gang he was infiltrating, but it was hell on his head.
“Listen, G, I gotta go. I just wanted you to know I was okay.”
“Keep being okay.”
He pulled his hair free of his motorcycle jacket’s collar and barely resisted scratching the new ink beneath the large bandage at the crook his neck.
Fucking outlaw gangs and their goddamned tattoos.
He scratched it and grimaced.
Yet another one that he’d have to get blasted off after he got back to New Orleans.
“You keep being okay, too, honey.”
“I’ll try. So…any instructions for me? I’m at home alone.”
His cock swelled in his jeans. God, his girl really knew how to work him up, but the last damn thing he wanted was to be rubbing one out in Hell’s own bathroom. He was probably going to catch something incurable just from breathing the air in there. Or maybe he’d get MRSA on his dick.
Anyway, they had plenty of time for their bodies to reacquaint when he got home. Right now, minutes on the phone were precious.
“All right, how about this?” He grabbed the pills and hit the lights on his way out. “Put your hand over your heart.”
“Okay?”
“Feel it beating?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to take a moment and do that every day while I’m gone. Write a note to remember if you have to. But I want you to do it and know that with every heartbeat that passes, I’m that much closer to coming home.”
“And when you do?”
“And when I do…” He tossed the pills into his mouth, swallowed them dry, and thought about that little velvet box in his cookie jar. “Well, I hope you won’t be mortified at wanting to tell me yes. I love you. It’s okay to say yes when you want to, honey.”
She didn’t respond. That worried him, because Giselle always had to have the last word.
“G?”
He pulled the phone back from his ear and looked at the screen.
Out of prepaid minutes.
“Fuck.”
He flopped onto the bed.
He’d never been so motivated to close out a case in his life. He’d been up for thirty hours, but now he did begin to nod off, thinking of who he got to go home to. He would be vigilant and go home to her.
And hopefully this time, it’d be with no new bullet wounds.
Other Books
CONTEMPORARY & EROTIC CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Den of Sin
Two Strikes
Ménage à Troys
As Sweet
O for Two
Winterball
Hearts and Minds
Saint and Scholar
Calculated Exposure
Seeing Red
Storafalt Stories
Back to Storafalt
Teaching the Cowboy
Gift from Carolina
Solo Books
Colleen’s Choice
My Nora
Sold As Is
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
Afótama Legacy
The Viking Queen’s Men
Shrew & Company
The Problem with Paddy
Framing Felipe
Bryan’s Betrayal
Sons of Gulielmus
A Demon in Waiting
A Demoness Matched (Melt My Heart anthology)
A Demon in Love
A Demon Found
A Demon Bewitched
An Angel Fallen
For Holley’s complete backlist, including free reads, please visit her website http://www.holleytrent.com
About the Author
Holley Trent is a Carolina girl gone west. Raised in rural coastal North Carolina, she’s a lady with Southern sensibilities, but in 2011 her adventurous spirit drove her to Colorado for new experiences. She lives on the Front Range with her husband, two kids, and two cats.
She writes snarky contemporary and paranormal romances ranging from sensual to erotic that are usually set in her home state. Her humor is sometimes subtle, often ribald, and regularly inappropriate. If any of her stories seem overly serious at first glance–keep reading.
She’s a winner of the inaugural CIM-RWA Abalone Award (for My Nora) and a three-time Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence finalist (My Nora, Calculated Exposure, and A Demon in Waiting). A Demon in Waiting was a RomCon Readers’ Crown finalist in 2014.
For Holley’s complete backlist, including titles from Musa Publishing, Crimson Romance, and Lyrical Press/Kensington please visit her website at http://www.holleytrent.com.
Want to chat about Three Strikes or another Holley Trent title? Catch her online on Twitter where she tweets under the handle @holleytrent or fan her Facebook page.
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