by J. C. Cliff
When she does remember, she’ll have to recall how I’ve loved her with my actions, not words. In my book, deeds and behavior always speak louder than words anyway. All the things I’ve done for her has to account for something, granting me some reciprocity.
Stryker lets out a half-laugh, garnering my attention, and mumbles while shaking his head in protest. “Not this damn movie again, T. How many times have you seen this one anyway?”
“Not near enough. It’s a classic; it never gets old.”
“If you say so.”
Stryker leans down, extending his hand to the floor, and reaches for his second beer. I watch as he screws off the metal cap and begins rolling it between his fingers. “Hey, Strike, thanks again for everything. I couldn’t have gotten this far in the game without you.”
His eyes stay fixated on the movie as he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long pull. When he finishes his swallow, he turns his head toward me and cocks his head to the side. “No need to thank me, we’ve been in worse situations. You’d do it for me, right?”
“Without hesitation.”
We continue to talk low over the volume of the movie for a while, letting Jules sleep uninterrupted. We talk some about the past, but mostly we go over our current plans of defense, and discussed new strategic formulations for the immediate future. I really don’t want to bring any shit down on Stryker and the rest of the group, but they insist. It’s been our motto to always be there for each other through thick and thin.
There’s so much weighing on my shoulders right now, and the least of which is Jules’ memory returning. I’ve always had a sixth sense when it comes to being able to smell trouble brewing on the horizon, and right now, it’s rank. Every time I get this eerie feeling, it’s wound up saving all our lives many a time. So for now, I’ve got the rest of my comrades backing me up.
The next morning, Stryker and I get up early to go over more detailed plans and begin finalizing some of the new ideas we came up with last night. As we talk over coffee and doughnuts, we sit back and relax on the sofa. I hear Jules singing some rock tune out of key as she makes her way from the bedroom and down the hall. I grin to myself; I don’t believe she’s ever woken up in a foul mood. She rounds the corner and spies us, and gives Stryker a welcoming smile. “Oh, hey, Stryker! When did you get here?
“I got here last night, but you were already knocked out.”
“Oh, I guess I fell asleep on the sofa while watching a movie with Travis.” I watch as her thoughts get quickly interrupted, her eyes honing in on the box doughnuts sitting on the coffee table. Then she squeals in delight, “Ohhh...doughnuts! Stryker, I think I love you! Travis never keeps this stuff around.” She glances at me, arching a brow as she condemns me with a sardonic tone, “He only keeps this nasty tasting health food stuff in the house.” That’s okay. I’ve got big shoulders; I can take the blame for the food situation in the house.
She saunters toward us with a grin on her face, heading straight toward the gluten, and it dawns on me a second too late. Aw shit! She wasn’t supposed to find out about our little stash. I’m wide-eyed and speechless, trying desperately to think on my feet of what to do, and only one thing comes to mind: I lean forward and sucker punch the shit out of the doughnut box, sending them all flying every which way. I watch as a couple of them bounce off the wall and onto the floor while Ranger scrambles up from his dormant position and starts scarfing down everything in sight.
Jules crystal blue eyes bolt open as she jumps back, startled. Her hand flies up to her chest as she presses on her heart. “What the hell, Travis?!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Stryker’s shoulders shaking profusely. He’s laughing his ass off silently, hiding the soundless mirth behind the palm of his hand.
I look at Stryker with false mortification. “Did you see that sci-fi looking bug crawl in there? That sucker was huge!” I hold out my thumb and forefinger, indicating the exaggerated size of the nonexistent beast.
Jules visibly shudders as she holds her hands up in the air all squeamish, and squeals, “Ewww! You guys seriously need to get pest control out here.” She backs up with a disgusted look on her face and clambers up on the barstool, tucking her feet under her butt as if that will save her.
Stryker mouths to me between his quiet chuckles, ‘Sci-fi bug?’ I give him a look that tells him to shut up or die.
I sigh a breath of relief as I sink back into the sofa; the crisis has been averted. I pick up my mug and take a sip of coffee, then notice last minute Jules has a glass in her hand. She’s getting ready to pour herself a glass of milk. It dawns on me at the last second she’s lactose intolerant, and I choke on my coffee, spewing it across the coffee table. Holy shit! I can’t keep up with this girl. I catch a glimpse of Stryker, whose eyes are filled with hilarity, and I can tell he’s about to lose his composure.
I have to act quickly before she takes a drink. I spring up from the sofa and jump over the chair in one leap. I reach her just in time, knocking the glass of cold milk out of her hands. Milk goes every-fucking-where, and it’s Ranger to the rescue again as he scrambles onto the linoleum floor to lick up everything in sight.
“What…Travis?! What is wrong with you?!” Jules shouts out.
“Stryker bought bad milk. It has curds in it; it’s no good.” The lie rolls right off my tongue as I my heart pounds from the quick sprint over here. She arches her brow and looks at Stryker.
“He drank some,” she states matter-of-factly as she points to his empty glass on the coffee table.
Stryker is now lying on the floor face-down as his body shakes profusely. “Dude, are you having a seizure?” I shout out to Stryker. Then I turn to Jules and cock my head to the side while pointing at him sprawled out across the floor. “Case in point, look at him! He ain’t right in the head.” I grab the carton of milk and begin pouring the rest of its contents down the sink. Looking over my shoulder, I tell Jules, “Stryker bought this milk on clearance. It’s nasty; trust me.”
Jules lets out a frustrated growl that she gets no milk and no doughnuts today. “You guys are so weird. I’m going to take a shower.” She rolls her eyes and hops off the kitchen stool in a huff, taking off for the bedroom.
Once she’s out of hearing range, I look to Stryker, who’s clambering up off the floor, still chortling at my expense. “What the hell, Stryker? Why’d you bring that shit into the house?” I scold, shooting him the evil eye.
“Hey, I didn’t see you complain when you ate four of those doughnuts all by yourself,” he challenges with a grin.
I sigh heavily and exclaim, “God, I don’t know what gluten is, but I sure as hell love it. This diet is going to be the death of me.” I say that, but I’d eat gluten-free shit every day if it meant I could have her as my forever. Despite all the crazy-ass circumstances, this is the happiest I’ve ever been. I truly didn’t think it was possible for me to care about someone else like this again. Honestly, I thought my soul was blackened out, and ruined for good.
“I don’t get why you just don’t say that on one of the dates you told her y’all had, she always ordered something gluten-free and explained to you she was also lactose intolerant,” Stryker says as he strolls over to join me in the kitchen and begins helping me with the clean-up.
“It’s because I don’t want to mention anything from her real life that might jog her memory. We already have too much to worry about besides her amnesia.”
We work silently together, left to our own thoughts, and when we’re almost done, he questions me with concern in his voice, “Travis, are you sure this is really what you want to do?”
“Unequivocally, yes, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I say with conviction.
“Well, if it were me in your shoes, and I had a chance of having her, I’d do the same thing. You know I’m not a settling down kind of guy, but that girl would make an honest man out of me.”
“She is one of a kind; that’s for sure,” I com
ment as I finish wiping the spilt milk off the countertop, then pause as I pin him down with a stare. “You did pick up the package last week in Raleigh, right?” I raise both brows, questioning him.
He lets out a low whistle. “Yep, sure did. Got all fifteen-grand worth,” he says, giving a quick nod upward, indicating he put it upstairs in the locked computer room.
I nod. “Good. You also remember I have an appointment in town today at noon, right?”
Stryker looks at me with bemusement and nods. “Of course I do, I wouldn’t miss this one for the world. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us,” I pause as an afterthought comes to mind, “and for damn sakes, keep all the gluten out of her path while I’m away.”
~Jules~
Hearing the birds chirping outside first thing in the morning is one of my favorite ways to wake up. It’s a reminder to me it’s the beginning of another day, and everything is new and fresh. I yawn, stretching out my body on the bed. I love it here. It’s so peaceful and serene. A large part of me is going to hate it when I do get my memory back, because it means I will have to leave this place and get back to my life. I can only hope my life will include Travis.
Stryker left last night to go back to Raleigh. He’s such a handsome man in his own right, and I’m sure if I never met Travis, I’d go crazy over the guy. He’s far less tense than Travis; that’s for sure, always poking and jibing at Travis every chance he gets. It’s so funny to watch those two interact.
Travis has been disappearing for a few hours each day, and neither one of them would tell me what he was doing or where he was going. Regardless, the training schedule went on, with Stryker giving me his own tips on shooting during my practice time. My curiosity is in high gear, because after Travis comes back from wherever he’s been gone to, he acts as if he’s up to no good. The man is a vault; his lips stay sealed, and when he turns on his stone wall face, I really have no clue what to think.
The three days Stryker was here, he wouldn’t even make love to me. When I get amorous at night, Travis shuts me down immediately. He says it’s ‘not appropriate to tango while other people are in the house’. Somehow, I have a hard time believing Stryker would care, especially since he sleeps upstairs far away from us. Then last night, after he left for Raleigh, Travis said he was too tired to be intimate. This isn’t the virile Travis I know, but at least he’s just as cuddly, if not more, reassuring me everything is fine between us.
As the sunlight filtering past the closed curtains slowly brings me to life, I roll over and see the most breath-catching, illuminating, bright green eyes staring right at me. He’s beautiful, and I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.
“Good morning, baby,” he says in his gruff, sexy morning voice.
I sneak my fingers under his t-shirt with a sly grin on my face. I’m tired of being cut off, and I’ve missed feeling his bare chest. Now, since Stryker is gone and he’s gotten a good night’s rest, he has to be out of excuses. As soon as my fingertips graze his belly, he grabs at my wrist and stops my hand from going up his shirt. He shakes his head, returning my mischievous grin. He’s up to something as his eyes sparkle with playfulness.
“You can’t touch the merchandise just yet.”
I quirk my eyebrow, “Is that right? When would be the appropriate time, sir?” I tease, rolling my eyes. There are two ways I can skin this cat. I glance down at his boxers; his morning wood is poking up, making a tent.
Keeping my eye on the prize, I say on a grin, “Hey, sweetie.” I proceed to place my fingertips at his belly button, and then begin walking a path along his happy trail while I sing with a light laugh, “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. If Peter Piper picked …squeeee!” I squeal out loud, giggling as he stops my assault toward his pickle, capturing my hand as he rolls me over, forcing me on my back.
“Peter better not be picking any of my pickled peppers, or he will wind up with a black eye,” he teases as he moves his body over mine, straddling my hips with his legs. With hands on either side of my belly, he starts tickling me with his fingers as he growls, “And you better be picking only one pickled pepper…mine.”
I squeal out loud, twisting and turning, trying to break free, losing my breath against his merciless onslaught. My legs kick all about in protest, and my hands fly to his, trying to peel his fingers off of my sides, but he’s too strong. Between labored laughter, I screech, “Stop! I give up!” I can’t stand it, and I’m about to pee myself as he relentlessly tickles me. It’s too much; I scream and twist in my laughter. “Stop! You’re killin’ me!”
Thank God, he finally quits his assault. I’m breathing heavily, trying to catch my breath as he leans over me with a huge grin on his face. He gives me a quick peck on the forehead and taunts, “That’ll teach you to go picking on my pecker.”
I pout as I display my best puppy dog eyes. “I miss you, Travis.”
He playfully returns my pout and taps his forefinger on my nose. “Give me ten more minutes, and then I’m all yours.”
I arch my brow. “What’s in ten minutes?” I ask suspiciously.
He shakes his head and starts moving to get off me. “Uh-uh, you wait right here. I’ll be back in five.” When he makes it to the bedroom door, he spins around, eyes me down, and points his finger at me, demanding, “Don’t move.”
I lay back down, sinking into the mattress as I cross my arms over my chest with a harrumph.
One minute after he’s gone, I roll over to his side of the bed and wrap myself up in his smell under the fluffy comforter. Why does it feel more cozy and special on his side of the bed? A small grin spreads across my lips; I love this feeling of being cocooned in everything Travis. When another minute ticks by on the clock, I start getting antsy, so I get up and use the bathroom. When I’m done, I stroll to the bedroom window and peel back the curtains. Mmm, I love bright mornings. I close my eyes against the warm sunlight streaming in, inhale a deep breath, and smile. As I stare out the large picturesque window, I get lost in thought, but not for long, as Travis approaches me from behind.
“Whatcha thinking about, sweetheart?” he murmurs as he wraps his strong, loving arms around my stomach from behind. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck, sending goose bumps racing down my arms. I melt into the warmth of his hard body. I’m so content here with him. Each day we are together, I grow more and more in love with this man. He hasn’t come right out and told me he loves me, but there are times I think he’s come close, wanting to say it, but something seems to hold him back.
I allow my arms to slip down to his hands and then thread my fingers through his. I relish his masculine scent, a unique pheromone that is distinctly Travis, which I can’t quite describe. All I know is it makes me grow wet every single time he’s near.
“I’m just thinking about how happy I am being here with you.” Then my lips turn down into a frown. I don’t know where our relationship is going. Hell, I don’t even know who I am.
“Hey,” he whispers, gently squeezing me, garnering my attention.
“Hmm?”
“I’m pretty sure I know where your mind just wandered to. Please don’t think about it.” He lets go of me, circling me around to face his front so he can cup my cheeks in the palm of his hands. His emerald eyes speak of earnest sincerity. “It doesn’t matter to me you don’t remember anything. Truth be told, Jules, what we have doesn’t happen every day, and I know you feel this bond that’s between us. This is more than just dating.”
I lick my lips nervously, looking at Travis, wondering where he’s going with this. Will he tell me he loves me? God, I hope so. I’m ready to tell him, but I feel so foolish for doing so, since I don’t even know who I am, what I like, or where I live. Heck, I may never know. Why would someone want to pick up this kind of baggage?
My heart plummets to my feet when he pulls away from me and drops down on one knee. Taking my left hand into his, my other hand automatically
covers my mouth and I hold my breath. My heart speeds up in anticipation, as I think he’s going to pop the question.
Looking down on him now, his gaze locks with mine and he starts speaking with the utmost sincerity. “Julianna, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking this over, and I know I’ll never find another you. I’m not the best with words, but I know this much: I can’t imagine my life without you in it; our past, whether we remember it or not, doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head with conviction. “None of it matters. It’s only the future I want to see you in.” Travis then reaches into his front pocket with his free hand, never removing his gaze from mine, revealing a small box. My eyes prick with happy tears as my pulse spikes.
He pops open the lid on the box with one hand and I gasp. “Jules, please make me a complete man; marry me. I don’t want to wait another day to make you mine. Please, say yes.”
As I gaze down, a sparkling round diamond shimmers against the morning light coming in through the windows. I bite my lower lip, not knowing what to think. I wasn’t expecting him to pop the question, not at all. I squint as I take in the ring’s sharply defined features. It’s a white gold ring, highly detailed, and the pattern on the sides slightly mimics my medallion, with parts of the metal interweaving.
I lift my gaze to Travis’; his handsome morning scruff is displayed prominently across his jawline, and his sparkling eyes are emanating true adoration. I think to myself, What a strong, loving, and handsome man. How did I get so lucky?
I’m totally flabbergasted as he takes the ring out of the box and gently slips it onto my ring finger. “Please…say yes.” I pull my trembling hand away, wanting to inspect the engagement ring a little closer. This is all so surreal. I’m excited and giddy feeling as my right hand fondly touches the gold and the miniature diamonds that surround the larger center stone.