Masked Indulgence

by Michelle Love

  When Glen had gone to bed in his own room, where he’d moved a long time back, Artemis checked her phone to see Dan had already sent her a text message, a photograph of him and his daughter giving her the thumbs up. Sweet and funny.

  She went to bed with a huge smile on her face.

  From another coffee house across the street, Dacre Mortimer had watched his ex-wife’s sister chatting with the tall man. He knew Artemis wouldn’t hesitate to call the cops on him if she saw him, and he couldn’t risk being caught, not while Romy was still out there in the world, alive. He didn’t much care what happened to him after she was dead, but for now, he had a job to do.

  Find Romy. Find his beautiful, sexy, love-of-his-life, ex-wife Romy.

  And kill her.

  To be continued.

  Click on the following link to read the complete story.

  The Naughty One: A Doctor’s Christmas Romance

  The Forbidden Sitter Extra

  A Billionaire Holiday Romance

  Gannon

  A loud scream woke me up in the middle of the night.

  I sat bolt upright in bed and only then did I realize it was me who was screaming.

  Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs from my mind, I closed my mouth and looked at Brooke’s side of the bed. It was still empty. I was still alone.

  Three weeks had passed since Brooke’s auto accident. Three long as hell weeks.

  The children and I had all but lost our matriarch one terrible night in July. A truck barreled into Brooke’s car, t-boning her on the driver’s side. The airbags deployed but the impact was too much, she suffered head trauma. She lost her memories of our children and me.

  I ran my hand over the empty place in our bed, the place Brooke had occupied for the last seven years. My heart felt as if it would soon burst if she didn’t come back to me.

  When Brooke regained consciousness she thought she was back in high school. She remembered her family, but not me and not our children. I tried everything to get her to remember me, but she was afraid of me.

  I overheard her asking her brother, Brad, who the old man was. She was referring to me, and it broke my heart.

  Would she ever see me the way she had before the accident?

  At four in the morning, I got out of bed. Once I woke up from a nightmare, I never could get back to sleep again. Why bother lying in bed for two more hours?

  After a shower and a shave, I dressed and went to kiss my kids goodbye. Not waking them up, I left kisses on top of each of their heads before heading out to go to work.

  I’d hired a nanny, with Brooke unable to take care of our kids. I felt guilty about what our kids had to go through. Our youngest, six-month-old Gwen, had grown fussy, missing her momma. Grady, at three and a half asked for his mother every single day. Braiden, at six knew where his mother was and he was my biggest helper with the younger kids, as usual.

  I shot out a text to Brooke, the way I did a few times each day, —Hope your day is a great one. Miss you more than you can understand. Love you, Gannon. —

  Brooke wouldn’t always reply and seldom answered when I called her. She was afraid of me. She just didn’t believe anyone when she was told she was married and had children. Her brain couldn’t accommodate that information.

  The doctors told us her memory could come back. Her brain could heal, the damage wasn’t permanent, just bruising on her brain is all it was.

  But three weeks had gone by with nothing getting any better. I was losing hope.

  My cell lit up, and I pulled to the side of the road to stop so I could read it. My heart pounded in my chest. Brooke had responded, —I dreamt about you a little while ago. I was in a hospital and completely out of it, not seeing or hearing anything. Then you touched my hand, and I woke up. —

  That was it. She didn’t write another word.

  I tapped in, —That really happened. It was after you had our son, Grady.—

  She was beginning to have real memories, and my adrenaline went sky high. I turned back around, going back home. I had to get to her. I would pack up the kids and head to Napa Valley, to her parents’ home.

  If she was beginning to remember me, then I wanted to be around to help jog her memory even more.

  Another text came in from her, —Is that why I have this ugly scar on my stomach?—

  I pulled over to answer her, —Yes, that’s why you have a scar on your stomach. But it’s not ugly. It’s beautiful, baby.—

  Waiting a moment, I found her writing back, —It is ugly and don’t call me baby.—

  Not quite what I wanted to hear, but at least she was talking to me. She hadn’t said much to me at all in the last three weeks. So I texted back, —Sorry. Maybe you should go back to sleep. Maybe you’ll dream some more about me. —

  She wrote back right away, —I don’t like dreaming about you. It’s weird.—

  —Did the dream make you feel something?— I asked.

  Her response was just one word, —Lonely.—

  I pulled back onto the road and hurried home. I had to get to her. I had to be around her. If she felt lonely, it had to be because she missed me and probably the kids too.

  Brooke had always loved kids. When she looked at ours like they were horrifying little creatures instead of her children, it shook me to my core. How could she not at least like kids that she brought into the world when she liked all kids?

  We needed to be around her now. Her brain had to be healing, and with us around her, it would make her memories come to life and eventually she’d come back to us all.

  I parked my car in the garage then headed inside to pack our things. I wanted to leave as soon as possible.

  After letting the nanny know what I was going to do, I let her know she had time off while we were away. She got up and packed the children’s things while I packed mine.

  An hour later, she helped me secure the children in the Suburban, and the kids and I headed out. All three kids were falling right back to sleep as the sun hadn’t even risen yet.

  It was difficult not to let my hopes soar. I wanted my wife back so damn bad it made it difficult not to let my mind get away from me.

  Soon, she’d be back in my arms and back in our home, in our bed.

  I had to keep the faith that we would soon have the woman who was the glue in our family back with us very soon.

  She had to remember us!

  Brooke

  I woke up, hearing children laughing and talking to my parents. I’d been having a weird dream, one where I was on a beach, lying in the sun, wearing a bikini. Gannon Forester was there, looking down at me. He had on some dark aviator style sunglasses and looked handsome.

  The dream seemed so real; I swear I felt my heart speed up as he gazed at me. And when he caressed my cheek, my insides went hot. But then the sound of the kids woke me up and I was taken out of the dream.

  A dream that had left me feeling weird. Empty. Lonely.

  My family told me Gannon was my husband and we’d been married for seven years. I couldn’t believe that. Why would I marry a man who was so much older than me?

  All I could recall was that I was sixteen. But my parents told me I wasn’t sixteen; I was twenty-eight. When I asked how old Gannon was, I found out he was nearly forty. I wasn’t even into my thirties yet, and I was married to this old guy.

  None of what they told me made any sense.

  And then they added that I had adopted Gannon’s son from another woman and I’d had two babies myself with him.

  It was so unbelievable.

  Mom told me I married Gannon when I was twenty-one. Now, why would a young woman like that want to marry a man who was over thirty?

  I was puzzled, and my head hurt from thinking too much. I had headaches a lot. The doctors told me it was from the accident they say I had.

  I didn’t remember having an accident. I did remember waking up in a hospital with a splitting headache, though. And I did remember seeing a man sitting next to my bed. His
blue eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked worried.

  He was excited to see me waking up and jumped up. He leaned over me, putting his hands on my face and I started to cry. I was afraid of him.

  Nurses came into the room, and I asked them to make the man leave, I didn’t know who he was or why he was touching me.

  The man cried then. He buried his face in his large hands and wept like a baby. I felt bad for the guy, but I had no idea why he was crying like that.

  A nurse took him out of the room, and my family came in. I asked my brother, Brad who the old guy was. He told me his name was Gannon Forester, and he was my husband.

  I was the one crying then. I was so confused and afraid. I begged my parents not to make me go with the stranger. I begged them to keep him away from me.

  It was then that I was asked how old I thought I was and I responded that I was sixteen. The doctors told me I wasn’t sixteen and I’d lost some of my memory. They said the scans they did showed that I had bruising on my brain and my memory of my husband and children would come back to me, eventually.

  I didn’t believe them. I didn’t believe anyone. But my dreams seemed real, and I felt things I hadn’t before.

  Lonely.

  Why was I suddenly feeling so lonely?

  I’d been fine, happy even, being at home with my family. The only thing I missed was going to school and hanging out with my friends.

  Mom told me my old friends had all grown up and moved away. I had to stay home, rest, and get better.

  The problem was, that I felt fine. I didn’t hurt anymore, not the way I did when I first woke up. But I did feel as if something was missing. And I felt lost.

  I didn’t have school to go to. I didn’t have a job to go to. I didn’t have anything.

  Getting out of bed, I went to my bathroom to shower and get dressed for the day. I had no idea who was visiting us but knew I should get up and be polite to whoever our guests were.

  After getting dressed, I headed out, feeling a little odd. I hoped whoever was downstairs I would remember. I hated the feeling that came over me when I didn’t recognize someone who said I knew them.

  My foot hit the top stair, and I froze as a little boy came running up from the living room below, shouting, “Mommy!”

  His little arms wrapped around my legs as he hugged me. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know the boy. I’d seen him before when I was still in the hospital, but I had no idea who he was. The only thing I knew was that he and an older boy and a baby girl were brought into my hospital room. I was asked if I recognized them and I answered that I didn’t.

  I recalled my mother taking them back out of that room, and the two boys looked sadly at me without saying a word. And now here was the youngest boy hugging me and calling me his mother.

  I didn’t know what to say at all.

  Then the man who said he was my husband was at the foot of the stairs. “That’s Grady, Brooke.”

  Gannon’s face was familiar to me, now that I’d seen him twice in my dreams in the last six hours. I nodded and ran my hand through the boy’s dark hair. “He looks like you,” I said as the child looked up at me.

  “He’s got your nose,” Gannon replied.

  I touched my nose as I looked at the boy’s. “Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”

  “Momma, can you come home with us now?” the boy asked me.

  I could only shake my head. “Honey, I don’t know any of you.”

  The sad look on his little face nearly made me cry.

  Gannon

  As I stood there, looking at the love of my life, I felt the hope draining out of me. She still didn’t know her own children or me. “Brooke, why don’t you come down here and hold your daughter? Maybe that’ll stir up some memories.”

  She was hesitant, but then Grady took her hand. “Come on, Momma.”

  Grady was able to get his mother to come downstairs with him, and when they got to me, I said, “You may now think you don’t know us, but you do. Come on. Come hold Gwen. She’s been a real crybaby without you.”

  “I don’t know,” Brooke said as her green eyes narrowed.

  Her mother got up and came to us. She put her arm around her youngest daughter, ushering her to take a seat on the sofa. “Gannon showed us the texts you two exchanged early this morning. I think your brain is healing and having the kids and your husband around should help you get back into reality, sweetie.”

  Brooke’s father got up and took Gwen to her, placing our six-month-old in her mother’s arms. Both of our boys sat on either side of Brooke, both sitting so close to her so they could touch the woman they’d missed so much.

  I blinked back tears as I watched Brooke look at our daughter. “She’s got green eyes and blonde hair just like me.” Brooke ran her hand over Gwen’s chubby cheek. “Are you mine?”

  Gwen reached up, touching Brooke’s lips as she cooed at her mother. Braiden laughed a little. “Yeah, Mom, she’s yours. She looks just like you. I wish you could remember us.” At only six, Braiden was a very mature boy. He was the best big brother a kid could ask for.

  “I wish I could too.” Brooke looked at Braiden. “But I don’t. Can you tell me your name?”

  Braiden didn’t let it bother him at all as he said, “I’m Braiden, that’s Grady, and this is Gwen.” He pointed at me. “And that’s Dad. You really like to kiss him a lot.” Everyone laughed except Brooke, who blushed.

  She ducked her head, shyly. “Oh my goodness.”

  Brooke’s mother added, “You sure did like to kiss him a lot, Brooke. Perhaps you and he should take a drive this morning. Alone.”

  Brooke shook her head as she looked at her mother with wide eyes. “No!”

  My heart sank as I could see she was afraid of me. “That’s okay,” I said. “No reason to rush anything.”

  Brooke’s eyes met mine. “Thank you.” She looked relieved as she looked back at the baby in her arms. “I had another dream with you in it, Gannon.”

  I took a seat on the chair across from her. “You did? What was this one about?”

  “I was on a beach, and you were looking down at me,” she said, still looking only at Gwen. “You had on aviator sunglasses.”

  “Well, that’s happened countless times, Brooke. We live in Los Angeles and take the kids to the beach quite often,” I told her.

  She looked at me with creases between her brows as she frowned. “We live in Los Angeles?” She looked at her mother. “How come you didn’t tell me that, Mom?”

  Her mother shrugged. “I don’t know, Brooke. I’ve been worried about telling you things. You get so agitated when I tell you something you don’t remember. I hate to do that to you is all.”

  Brooke did look agitated as she went on, “Well, I should know where I really live if it’s not here with you guys. I had no idea. What else have you not told me?”

  Her mother got up, looking a bit peeved herself. “I’m going to make some breakfast now.”

  Brooke looked at me with a blank expression. “I’m too much for her. I can tell. She seems so much older than I remember.” She looked at her father who was rubbing his forehead. “Him too.”

  Her father stopped rubbing his forehead to reply, “We are older, honey. And it’s not that you’re too much for either your mom or me. It’s just really hard to watch our child go through what you’re going through.” He got up and headed to the kitchen.

  I sat there, looking at my wife and wondering what the hell we could do to make her remember things again. “I’m glad we came, Brooke. I think your parents need a break.”

  Brooke nodded. “I think I want to go home. To my home.” She looked at me. “Can you take me home, Gannon? I feel lost here. Maybe I won’t feel lost there. But I’m going to need my parents to come too. Is there room for them?”

  Braiden laughed. “Mom, our house is huge! There’s more than enough room for everyone.”

  A smile took over my entire face. Brooke wanted to come home. She was feelin
g lost in her childhood home. Maybe that would be the key to recovering her memories. “I’ll take you home, and your parents can come too. When do you want to leave?”

  Brooke sat perfectly still as she looked up at the ceiling then pulled her head down and looked into my eyes. “Right after breakfast. Will that be okay?”

  “Anything you want will be okay, Brooke. We will do anything and everything we can to get you back to who you were before the accident.” I got up and headed to the kitchen. “I’m going to tell your parents about your idea, and we’ll get things going in that direction. You’ll be sleeping in your own bed tonight.”

  “I’m not sleeping in a bed with you, Gannon!” her words sent a chill through me.

  I turned back to look at her and prayed the hurt didn’t show in my eyes. “I’d never make you sleep with me, Brooke. I’ll stay in another room until you remember me. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  Having her under the same roof and not being able to touch her would be excruciating. But at least I’d have her home.

  Brooke

  Shock filled me as we drove up the long drive to the home Gannon and the kids said was ours. The place was massive, like something out of a dream. “Gannon, are you rich?” I had to ask.

  “We’re not poor,” he said then chuckled.

  The word, ‘we’ sounded odd to me. Like he and I were a we. I didn’t feel like that. I felt like he was as close to a stranger as it gets.

  Sure Gannon was a handsome stranger, but still a man I didn’t remember fully. A man who’d come to me in my dreams a couple of times and that’s it. I felt nothing with him. No connection at all.

  I scanned the enormous home, finding it intimidating. “Do I have to clean this beast?”

  “We have staff who tend to that,” Gannon informed me. “You take care of the kids, and you did work as the director of a private kindergarten before the accident. They’ve hired a temp until you’re okay again. Then you can have your job back if you want it.”