by Anna Brooks
“You deserve to be spoiled.” She grabs her plate and takes it to the sink.
After we made love, I took a shower and she cleaned up, not wanting to get her tattoo wet. By the time I got downstairs, she had plated a delicious dinner, and I’m now devouring every bite.
“So, when I was walking out of the tattoo place, I ran into this guy.”
My fork falls out of my hand. “What the fuck?” Jesus, I really can’t let her out of my sight. I’ve hated that she’s been going places without me these last couple of weeks, but I know she needs her independence. It scares me, but she’s just an amazing woman. So resilient and optimistic. It’s such a beautiful thing to witness.
“It’s okay. He was really nice. He told me to tell you he still owes you.”
My spine straightens. “Say what?”
“He said, ‘Tell Smith I still owe him.’”
“What did he look like?”
She describes a big dude with a gold tooth. Dirt. I smirk.
“Who was he?”
Since Richard is locked up, probably spending the rest of his days behind bars, and Norman isn’t breathing anymore, Dirt didn’t get to fulfill his promise. He did, however, keep his ears and eyes on Richard, and that gave me a huge peace of mind. So to me, we’re even.
“Old friend.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
I toss my napkin onto the counter and raise an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t feed me dessert.”
When her unconvinced look morphs into one of desire, I know she’s distracted. I don’t want to lie to her, but there’s no way in hell she’s getting those details. “Take your pants off and hop up, baby.”
She giggles but uses her arms to pull herself up. I reach for the waistband of her pants and tug the soft material down to her ankles but leave it there. “Sit still.”
Since she gave me a taste earlier, I’m freaking starved, so I dive right in. She pulls the hair on my head, and I fuck her with my tongue. Her little moans and her nails in my hair are enough to make me go crazy. I double my efforts, and it’s not too long before her juices slide down my throat.
I have no patience; she unravels me, makes me come unglued. In one movement, I stand and slide home, gritting my teeth as I wait for her to adjust. “You good?”
“Yes. Please, just fuck me. I’m not going to break.”
I grab her chin and wait until her gaze meets mine. “You’re the most precious thing to me, Mellie. I’ll fuck you, but I’m always going to make sure you’re good before I do.”
The frown lines between her eyes soften. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She smirks. “Good. Now, fuck me.”
I don’t argue, and I give her what she needs, what we both need. Fast and rough, something I didn’t think she’d like, but absolutely love that she does. It’s not long before we’re spiraling into ecstasy together. Lifting her off the counter, I slide with her to the ground. When she catches her breath, she laughs. “I did actually make you a cake, ya know?”
“Nothing tastes as good as you do.” I kiss her lips. “But I’ll totally eat a piece if it’ll make you feel better.”
“How noble.”
We get up and clean up, then eat cake. After I help her with the dishes, she falls asleep on the couch watching The Golden Girls. Now I’m watching her, and I don’t care if it’s creepy. She’s mine to watch. Mine to love. Mine to cherish. And it’s the absolute best job I’ll ever have.
If someone had asked me six months ago, I would have never thought I could be this fucking happy. Mellie is absolutely everything. Watching her become the woman she was meant to be is nothing short of beautiful. She continues to amaze me at every single turn. And I’m the luckiest bastard in the world.
I have moments when I don’t think I deserve the love of such a good woman, but then I look at the picture of my mom and dad that now hangs on the wall. Mellie put it up without me knowing, but it’s something I should have done a long time ago. Hiding their memories didn’t make them go away. If anything, it made them hurt worse.
I see the love they had, the pure joy, and in those moments, I truly feel as if maybe I deserve it, too. I deserve Mellie. But then she has to go and smile or laugh, and when she does that... it humbles me. And I go back to questioning how I got so damn lucky to have her.
Maybe it was fate. Who knows? We never found out any more information about our grandparents, but that’s okay. Some stories weren’t meant to be told. Some, though? Some were meant to be written. Our story is meant to be written.
We have a lot of empty pages ahead of us, and I plan to fill them all. I’m sure my girl will come along and edit them, but once the ink dries, our story can never be unwritten.
Epilogue
Mellie
Three years later.
“What are you doing out here?” My voice filters through the still of the night, and Smith turns his head to look at me. I give him an upside-down kiss then lean on the front door of the car. During the past couple of years, Smith has tried to fix his grandpa’s car to no avail. Maybe someday he’ll do something more with it, but for now, it’s the biggest yard decoration I’ve ever seen. “Is everything okay?”
His eyes soften. “Jay saved me. Did you know that?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I got the call about my parents and sister.”
“I don’t understand, honey.”
“I had a gun in my hand. And I kid you not; I thought it was going to save me. Like if I put one, just one fucking bullet through my brain, everything would be okay.”
My heart sinks to the ground. “Smith…”
“He tackled me. Gave me a few good punches to the jaw. Got a cheap one to my gut, too.” He actually smirks. “If he wouldn’t have done that…”
I wipe the corner of my eye and slap him on the top of his head. “I’m glad my brother beat you up. God, Smith. I had no idea.”
“Do you ever wonder if they’re watching?”
“All the time.”
“I think they are.”
A raindrop falls onto his forehead. Then another. And one more. He laughs as it begins to pour. Out of nowhere, we’re both soaked in a matter of seconds. I freeze, not sure how Smith will react. When it’s rained in the past, he’s pretended to be okay. He acts like he’s not affected, but I feel his body tense. I see him fighting back fear. It’s something I don’t think will ever leave him, but right now, he’s not running away from it like usual.
He sits up and slides off the hood of the car then picks me up and twirls me around. “They are so watching.”
“They are.”
He kisses me and laughs again then sets me down and wraps me up tight. “I wish they could meet our daughter.”
“I know, honey. Me too.”
“They would have loved you. And Sophia... she always wanted a sister. You probably would have gotten sick of her. She could be a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“That’s doubtful. I grew up with Jay, remember.”
“Yeah, but he’s kind of girly, so…” I feel him shrug.
“Say that to his face.”
“I will. I’ll just make sure he’s holding Jaycee, first.”
I laugh and lean back so I can see my husband’s eyes. I need to look into them and make sure he’s okay. Every once in a while he closes himself off, and I do my best to bring him back. “My parents would have adored you. My mom and I always used to talk about my wedding. We’d make pretend bouquets, and when we went to the grocery store, we would look at the dresses in the bridal magazines. I still think she’s looking down at me and shaking her finger in disgust that we got married in a courthouse.”
“Listen, lady. You were pregnant. There’s no way you were going to have a baby out of wedlock.”
The rain slows and the sun peeks through one cloud, its rays shining right on us.
“It’s not my fault you have super sperm and got me pregnant the first tim
e we had sex.”
“I’m a manly man, baby. What can I say?”
I roll my eyes at him. Through the years, he’s been the absolute best husband and father a woman could ask for. During my random nightmares and unexpected panic attacks, he’s held me and ultimately healed me. It’s been a while, but I think I’ve come to accept the fact that I went through some messed-up shit. I tried to push it away for a while, but it only worked temporarily.
After several phone sessions and a few in person, Dr. Reynolds has given me the tools I need to cope with my PTSD. I have been through hell, but right now, I’m in heaven. My life is perfect, and no matter what the future holds, no matter what cards we’re dealt, I know that we can make it through anything. As long as we have each other, nothing can break us.
“Hey. Your kid just shit herself,” Erik yells from the patio.
“We’re coming,” Smith yells back.
“At the same time? That’s impressive, Smith.”
I bury my head in Smith’s wet shirt and stifle a laugh as we walk back to the house. When we get inside, Erik tosses a couple of towels at us.
“If you want, I can give you some pointers,” Smith says, as he dries off his hair.
“Fuck, no. My wife ain’t complaining. Are you, Polly?”
She walks around the corner carrying our daughter, Jaycee Sophia Porter. “Can we ever go a day without talking about how fantastic you are in bed?”
“That. Right there.” He wraps an arm around her neck and pulls her close. “That’s why I married you.”
She rolls her eyes. “’Cause I know how to overinflate your ego?”
“No, because I know you’ll change all the shitty diapers.” We all laugh, but then he whispers something in her ear that has her blushing.
“On that note,” Smith says. “Thanks for stopping by, but it’s the little princess’s bedtime.”
We walk our friends to the door, watching until their taillights fade before we head upstairs and change into dry clothes. I lie on our bed with our daughter waiting for Smith to come out of the bathroom. Mouse hops up on the bed and rubs her head on Jaycee’s. “Yes, I know. You love her.” I pet her, and she arches her back so I’ll scratch her butt.
Smith comes out and plops down beside us. Mouse meows at him then jumps off the bed. “She’s always a bitch to me when you’re around.”
“Don’t call her that.”
“It’s not like she can’t understand me. Watch.” He leans over the bed. “Who’s the ugliest kitty?” He makes kissy noises, and she walks over to his hand and nuzzles it. “Yes. You are the ugliest little kitty ever.”
“You’re such a jerk.”
He leans back up and tickles me then Jaycee.
“But I’m your jerk.” He kisses my cheek and continues to tickle the cutest little blonde-haired girl in the world. She looks up at her daddy with her big brown eyes and smiles. Her laughter is the most precious sound in the world. It’s something I’ll never tire of hearing.
Something I never thought I would do a lot of myself. But Smith? My heart? My other half? He makes me laugh. Every single day. I never realized how funny he was until we both moved on from the past. When the weight of it was completely off our shoulders, he turned into a man who is not only funny, but also more passionate and loving than I could have ever dreamed. He was perfect before, but now, he’s more than perfect. He’s everything.
And he’s all mine.
Other Books by Anna Brooks
It’s Kind of Personal Series
Make Me Forget
Show Me How
Prove Me Right
Tell Me When
Remember Me Now
Give Me This
Not Your Hero
Easy Sacrifice
Honest Liar
Acknowledgments
They say it takes a village to raise a child, and the same is true for writing a book. I have been blessed beyond words to have the most supportive people in my life.
Shout out to my husband for being awesome and giving me everything I need to make my dreams come true. Even when that means I forget to make dinner, and giving me an empty house when I’m on a deadline. I love you.
Marianne, Kelly, Crystal, and KC, thank you for continuously giving advice and being there for me, love you all!
Tracey, thank you for everything you’ve done to help me. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to meet you!!!
THANK YOU to Nikki Belaire, Crystal Singer, Heather Carver, Shannon Ferguson, Nicole Richard, Nancy White, Elizabeth Himsworth, and Kelly Lincoln. I appreciate you taking the time to beta read so, so much!
My reader group and release team. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support. I appreciate everything you do and am humbled by your support.
Kari from Cover to Cover designs, Jenny from Editing 4 Indies, Bree from Vivid Words Editing, Stacey from Champagne Formats. I couldn’t do this without you all. Thank you.
Erin from Southern Belle, Colleen from Itsy Bitsy Book Bits and Kiki from The Next Step PR, I’m amazed by how hard you all work and appreciate the time you take to help me promote my books.
THANK YOU, thank you, thank you to the bloggers for the countless hours you put in, helping to spread the word about the books that you love. And of course to the readers, thank you for allowing me to share my stories with you.
About the Author
Anna began writing when she thought the world would want to hear her sick lyrics through song. Since then, she’s realized her childhood dream wasn’t so far-fetched, just misguided. Now she writes romance with real emotions and happy endings. If Anna isn’t writing or reading, she can be found by a space heater drinking a ridiculous amount of Diet Dr. Pepper. She also likes to hang out with her husband and two boys. If it weren’t for them, she wouldn’t ever leave the house. Anna was born in Wisconsin but now lives in the Evergreen State.
Want to stay up to date with new releases, sales, and more?
Sign up for Anna’s newsletter
She’d love to hear from you. Please visit her website for contact information.
www.annabrooksauthor.com
She can also be found on social media as @annabrooksauth.
Please consider leaving a review for this, and any other books you read. They are appreciated more than you can possibly know. <3
Make Me Forget (It's Kind Of Personal Book 1)
Prologue
Six months ago.
Even though I’m blindfolded, I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my body to cooperate, while my mind screams at me in protest. Todd grunts as he picks up his pace, effectively slamming my head into the wall. I’m grateful for the pain, as it distracts me from what I’ve allowed myself to become.
“I’m coming!” He never talks when he fucks me, except to tell me that he’s coming.
I can’t say anything, can’t move, can’t see. I can do nothing but wait. He collapses on top of me for a few minutes before pulling out and sitting up. Then he unties my ankles and wrists. Next, he removes the blindfold, followed by the gag. I rub my wrists and take a deep breath.
“Be right back.”
He disappears out of my bedroom, returning a moment later with a wet cloth to clean between my legs. What I thought at one point was a sweet gesture turns into another moment I have to endure his touch.
“That was amazing.” He runs a hand through his curly blond hair and smiles at me.
Even with the gag removed, I still can’t speak to him right now. I fake a smile and crawl under the covers.
“I have to go to that conference in Boston this weekend. Be a good girl when I’m gone?”
I’m not sure if he’s asking or telling; either way, I nod and shut my eyes. If he thinks I’m tired, he’ll leave sooner. He’s never stayed the night, not once in three years. He always says he has to go back to work. He doesn’t know that I know the real reason.
“Good girl.” He kisses my forehead and shuts off the light.
I
watch his tall, lean figure exit my bedroom and wait until his car pulls away before I hop out of bed. I run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet in time. Once I'm done losing the contents of my stomach, I quickly brush my teeth, but avoid looking in the mirror, because I know what will be looking back at me: sad blue eyes that used to be bright with excitement and hope, framed by blond hair that is dull and too long.
I grab the packed bags I have hidden in my closet and set them by the front door. I can’t be here anymore. Not in this house, not in this city, and definitely not in the same state as him. I know his routine, and he won’t know I’m gone until next week. I have time, but I’m still paranoid. Running back upstairs, I grab anything and everything that is of value to me. Not that there’s much; my mom’s jewelry, some photo albums, paperwork, things like that. I shut all the lights off upstairs, do the same in the kitchen, and make my way out the front door. I have to make a couple trips to my car, but once I have everything packed, I drive away without looking back.
Make Me Forget
A Preview of Easy Sacrifice
Despite dancing among the crowd of steamy bodies, my skin doesn’t feel too heated, but when I get outside and see him, it begins to burn. He’s leaning on his truck right outside the club, watching me. Waiting, maybe? The door closes behind me, and the bass from inside dissipates as the pounding of my heart begins to echo in my chest.
His eyes don’t move from mine. If I could walk, I’d run to him, but I’m paralyzed. I haven't seen him in six years; not since he told me from behind the glass partition that he never wanted to see me again … I was the one who pulled the trigger, but he took the blame.
Now, he looks … fucking hot. His arms are huge. His eyes are still beautiful, but they’re definitely harder. His hair’s a tad longer than it was before. And in the pants he’s wearing, I can see the outline of his cock.