Vote Then Read: Volume III

by Aleatha Romig

  “What in the hell are you doing?” He squatted beside where I still sat in the dirt, too afraid to move in case the snake came back. “You okay?”

  “I stepped on a snake, okay? Scared the shit out of me.”

  His dark brows pulled together. “Did it bite you?”

  Rotating one ankle and then the other, I shook my head. “No stinging, and I didn't feel a bite, so I should be good.”

  Pulling out his phone, he shined the dim light along the ground. A deep, humorous chuckle eased my nerves and pissed me off in the same breath. He pulled the “snake” off the ground and held it up for me to see.

  “This your snake?” For emphasis, he shook the black water hose. “Looks vicious. Wonder what kind it is.”

  “It felt like one, okay? And this time of year, snakes are awful. Hate those devils,” I muttered.

  “Now that our lives aren't in mortal danger, answer my first question. What are you doing out here?”

  Using his knees as leverage, B pushed up and extend a firm hand down to me. With an eye roll he couldn't see, I took his hand, allowing him to pull me off the ground. “I was on my way to your old room when I heard you out here. I came by to tell you my decision on helping you.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What's your decision, Beks? Will you help me or not?”

  I slid my hands into the pockets of the dress and rocked back on my heel. “I need to know what I'm getting into first. Then, if I decide to help, I have some ground rules.”

  Warmth spread along my palm and up my arm when his hand interlaced with mine. He led me to a long couch situated along the opposite side of the pool, somewhat hidden from the main house. Perfect. That way no one could stumble upon us unless they were looking for him.

  For several minutes, we just sat in silence, listening to the gentle hum of the sparkling pool’s jets and animated chirps of summer bugs.

  “After Caleb died, I started having these episodes of blacking out. One second I'd be fine, and then the next I'd be sweating, couldn't control my blood pressure, and my vision would go dark.” Looking away, he sighed and tightened his hold on my hand. “It’s happened enough to drive me to take some time off work to get myself better. Before I got the call about Pappy, I was already in Dallas and had started seeing a therapist in hopes they could fix me. But then came the call, and now you. I can't explain it, but I think you can help me.”

  “But why me?” I asked, almost too afraid to hear his answer.

  “The flashbacks, snapshots, are of us happy. Me happy.”

  “We were,” I whispered. “But I still don't understand. You forgot about me, about this place, for so long. Why now? Why not go back to your fancy head doctor and move on?”

  “I don't know. That's the truth. That's all I can offer you at this point. All I know is when you're around, everything feels right. My anger settles, and everything else fades in importance. Isn't that enough for now?”

  Was it?

  Looking up, I watched the stars before concentrating on him once more. “What would I need to do?”

  “Be you, I think. Give it five days—four now—of us, of you helping me remember the pieces of my life that I can't. Then you'll go your way and I'll go mine. I have to get back to Kentucky.”

  “Girlfriend?” I questioned before I could think better of it.

  “Army. I'm a helicopter pilot.”

  Wow. And bam, Brenton Graves somehow got hotter. Images of him in uniform flashed in my mind, shooting a spicy heat straight to my gut.

  “Wow, we have a lot to catch up on,” I said, somewhat out of breath. Damn, Beka, pull it together. “I'll help you, but I do have conditions.”

  “Conditions?”

  “Yeah. Like it or not, I'm still pissed and need answers too. Maybe me helping you will help me too.”

  “Closure.” He said it like the word was bitter in his mouth.

  “Right. Which means we do this as friends.”

  “Friends as in…?”

  “As in no sex.”

  “Not gonna happen. Hell, it's amazing that I haven't kissed you yet looking like you do.”

  I didn't try to hide my happy smile. “Looking irresistible was part of the plan to get back at you today.”

  “Does it make you feel better knowing you succeeded?” Brenton grumbled.

  “Tons. And the no-sex thing is to protect me. You just made it clear that you're heading back to Kentucky. After you're gone, I'll go back to my practice—”

  “Practice? You're a doctor now?”

  “Vet. Focus, B. No sex, no touching, no instigating. I know you. I'm the one with the memory of us, and I don't think I could take having you to lose it all over again.”

  “Will you tell me what I did?”

  “I'll help you remember, how’s that? Do we have a deal?”

  Looking up from the quiet pool, I found him stargazing. “How about this. I'll take it into consideration.”

  My smile grew. It was nice knowing Brenton wanted me like that again. I did too, badly, but I needed to play this smart. No giving up my heart again when he'd admitted to leaving. At least now I knew ahead of time instead of being blindsided.

  “No touching,” I insisted.

  A minuscule nod was all I received in return.

  Rolling my eyes, I moved to the next part of the negotiations. “And no one can know what we're doing. No one can see us together, see us talking or hanging out. We do everything on the down low.”

  Those furrowed brows came back in full force as he said, “I'm confused. You don't want people to see you with me?”

  “I'm sure you are.”

  “What does that mean?” he said through clenched teeth.

  “That you have no memories of how you left things, of who you hurt and left behind. Until you do, until you understand the stakes, we keep this between us.”

  “How in the hell will we do that?”

  I shrugged and withdrew my fingers from his. “Do we have a deal?”

  “Not yet.” Faster than I could react, he gripped my hand and yanked me flush against his solid chest. Lips parted, heart hammering, I became lost in his green eyes as we lay nose-to-nose. “Just one taste.” His soft lips brushed against mine.

  Warmth bloomed at every point of contact between us, making the already hot night unbearable. One hand snaked into my dark, curly hair while the other stroked down my spine before grabbing a handful of ass cheek over my dress and pressing me harder against him.

  My soft moan gave him access to deepen the kiss. Warning bells rang in my head, but my heart and everything below the waist urged me to ignore the what-ifs and live in the glorious moment. Because right then, in that moment, I was kissing him and he was kissing me.

  In a controlled roll, he settled me beneath him, his heavy weight pressing my back into the soft cushions.

  “Want to rethink the no touching, Beks?” he said against my lips before sucking down my neck. “I sure as hell wish you would. No way I'll be able to keep my hands off you. Not when you look like this, when you smell fucking delicious.”

  A soft content sigh passed my lips. Who was I kidding? He was right.

  “Mr. Graves?”

  At the familiar voice, my eyes popped open and focused in the direction of faint steps.

  Shit.

  Shoving against Brenton's shoulders, I leveraged him off just in time to crawl over the back of the wicker couch and fall to the pool’s concrete decking.

  A light chuckle sounded above. “You're ridiculous.”

  Staring out from beneath the couch, Brenton's dress shoes pressed to the ground facing our approaching unexpected visitor.

  “Mr. Graves, there you are,” said the head housekeeper. “Your father said you headed out this way.”

  “Something I can do for you, Mrs. Hathway?” There was no mistaking the lingering hint of humor in his tone.

  Bastard.

  If he knew the rumor mill started and s
topped with her, he wouldn't find all this funny. The sweet, kind, judgy woman standing in front of him single-handedly ruined me. Okay, technically I did that to myself, but she was the one who spread the news around town. Wonder what Brenton would think of her if he knew that tidbit.

  “Oh no. I was about to turn in and wanted to see if you needed anything else from the other staff or me.”

  Needed anything? Wow. How nice would it be to have someone check in on you? I'd love to raise my hand and ask for a bottle or two of wine, but considering I went to all the trouble to hide, I'd better not. This woman was public enemy number one when it came to who could not know about Brenton and me talking again.

  So even though I'd forget the glass and drink straight from the bottle right now, I'd stay right there sweating on the ground until she left.

  “No, ma'am. I'm fine, thank you for asking. But I guess you should know that I'll be staying for a few days. Until the attorneys come. I'm not sure of my father's plans, but please let the other staff know I'll be here.”

  The slight pause before her response spoke volumes. “Yes, sir, but may I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Your decision to stay, does it have anything to do with that girl Rebeka Harding?”

  Silently I groaned and tapped my forehead against the rough concrete. Seriously, lady? Mind your own damn business and leave so I can crawl back under the sexy beast.

  “That woman, you mean. And no, it doesn't.” No humor remained in his flat tone.

  “Right, sorry, sir. None of my business, I guess.”

  “That's correct. Good night, Mrs. Hathway.”

  Damn.

  Even as her shoes disappeared, I stayed on the ground. What the hell was I doing? It was a terrible idea. Kissing him, being close—I was playing with fire. He was the match and gasoline. Plus, once he remembered what he chose after the accident, what he had me sign, what would he do then?

  “Coast is clear,” B said, still on the other side of the couch.

  The concrete bit into my palms as I pushed up to stand. “I changed my mind. This is a terrible idea.” I didn't look up, focused on dusting the debris from my palms down my dress. “I'll go.” Maneuvering around him, I took two steps before his hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me to a halt.

  “What?”

  “This isn't a good idea. What happens when someone finds out, or when you remember everything? What happens when I can't do this?” I motioned between us with both hands and tossed them in the air, his tight grip releasing. “You don't know how it ended, B, and maybe that's a good thing. Even though I want to know why you did it, is it worth the repercussions?”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “You're in this. I can handle whatever happens from here. I have to know. And as for you, I can't keep you from hating me or loving me, but I can give you the reassurance that my track record has been shit with women. Most end up hating me in the end. I'm an arrogant asshole.”

  “Good to know some things haven't changed,” I said with a laugh. “But you can't kiss me like that again, no matter how bad you want to.”

  “Oh that.” He shoved both hands into his pockets and turned toward the main house. “That was for you. Thought you'd like to know what you're missing out on.”

  “Arrogant bastard. You liked it too.” Not wanting him to have the last dig, I stormed after him. “Admit it.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged without turning to face me, but from that angle, I still saw his cocky-ass smirk. “But I wasn't the one moaning like a porn star.”

  Anger like I hadn't felt in years surged forth. Gripping his shoulder, I yanked him to a stop. His smirk faltered as I jumped, wrapping my thighs around his trim waist and hooking my arms around his neck.

  A low growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating against the apex of my thighs.

  “Now who's moaning?” I whispered against his lips. “One thing you'll want to remember about me, I don't back down.”

  “Well, Beks, that’ll be a problem because neither do I.”

  “And I get the last word.”

  “Not always.”

  “This will get interesting, then.”

  “What point are you trying to prove right now? From my perspective, you couldn't keep your hands off me, so you just attacked a man trying to walk away as you asked him to.”

  “That you want me too. This isn't a one-way street.”

  “Trying to prove it to me or you?” Slowly he lowered my feet to the ground. “Make up your mind. You want me to want you or not?”

  Embarrassed because he was right, I shoved his chest and turned. Hell, I was the idiot female who couldn’t fucking think straight when he was around. “I have to run home tomorrow to get some clothes for the week. All I have is this dress.” For emphasis, I gripped the hem and pulled it out wide. His gaze zeroed in on the bit of upper thigh showing.

  “Just buy new ones.”

  “Wow, you're… oblivious. Arrogant, oblivious, and cocky as hell. Can't wait to see what else has changed with you. I live forty minutes east. I'll be back by lunch, and then we can start whatever we're doing.”

  “I need clothes too. Wasn't planning on sticking around, so all I have is this suit.” He spread his arms and gestured down his body. “And whatever is in the house from years ago. I'll come with you, and we can stop somewhere for me.”

  “Fine. Meet me at the truck at six. But remember, don't let—”

  “Anyone see me. Yeah, I get it. Wish I could remember why you're this neurotic about no one finding out.”

  I paused my retreat and kept my back to him as I said, “Wish I couldn't.”

  6

  Rebeka

  With each step, Bradley's old mesh shorts sank lower on my hips, forcing me to hitch them up to keep them from falling to the dirt and exposing my bare ass. With the soft material fisted in my grasp, I shuffled toward the truck, my attention on the mild morning sun peeking over the horizon and shining a glow across the flat land.

  When I woke up at five, Bradley was already out starting chores, and Daddy was sound asleep in the recliner where he'd passed out the night before.

  Most people were anti-mornings, but not me. The fresh air and coolish temperatures set the tone for the day. Plus, mornings offered that first glorious sip of steaming coffee. Most nights I'd fall asleep with visions of that first sip in my dreams.

  But last night, my thoughts were not of coffee. I tossed and turned from varying dreams with Brenton as the star. Some were good, X-rated good, but others were quite terrible. The terrible ones had him leaving the moment he remembered why he’d forced us apart thirteen years ago and proceeded to recount, in heartrending detail, why he decided to walk away.

  “Whose clothes are those?”

  I jerked my head in the direction of Brenton's voice. He leaned against the other side of the truck, glaring with narrowed eyes. Was that jealousy in his tone?

  “Not mine.” I knew I shouldn't egg him on, but where was the fun in that? “Problem?”

  Annoyance flashed behind his green eyes, making them sparkle in the morning sun. If I didn't hate him, I'd swoon at the sight. But I did hate him. Yep. Hate. That was the warm tingling feeling simply hearing his voice invoked.

  “No problem besides it's fifteen after and already fucking hot out here. I don't like waiting. Be on time when you suggest meeting up.”

  “Wow, someone's grouchy this morning.” I gave him a wide smile and pulled open the driver door. “And hate to tell you, but the heat part is about to get worse before it gets better.”

  Brenton slid into the passenger side and slammed the door shut behind him. “Oh, and why's that?”

  After situating my sunglasses, I shifted in the seat to tell him about the broken air conditioning, then cursed under my breath and looked back out the windshield to avert my eyes from his bare arms. “Nope. Out. Get out of my truck. Right now. Out.”

  “What the hell is your problem?” He
tossed his hands into the air in exasperation but didn't make a move out the door.

  “Nope. Out. We can't do this. Not with those.” I gestured at his elaborately tattooed arms. “I can't.” Shit, this was not happening.

  Gorgeous. Military. Tattoos.

  Did any woman have enough willpower to withstand that combo?

  “What’s your problem?”

  Banging my forehead against the hard steering wheel, I kept my eyes sealed shut. “Can you put long sleeves on or something? A parka maybe?”

  When I didn't get a response, I rolled my forehead along the hard plastic to sneak a peek at the sexiest man alive. His green eyes locked with mine after my long perusal up each arm, a cocky smirk pushing a faint dimple in his left cheek.

  Shit. Dimples too.

  Hell.

  I might as well strip right here.

  “Have a thing for tattoos, do you?”

  After clearing my throat, I took a deep breath and twisted the key in the ignition. Keeping my eyes out the windshield and hands at ten and two, I started us down the drive. “Nope. They're quite offensive actually, so I'd appreciate it if you don't show them again. Ever.”

  “Right.”

  We didn't make it halfway down the long gravel drive before he was fiddling with the AC controls and adjusting the vents. Without making it visible, I cut my gaze back to his arms, watching the way his biceps flexed and moved beneath the ink. The pictures were elaborate and detailed with black and blue shading.

  “Shit,” he blurted and grabbed the door handle.

  Oh hell. “Sorry,” I yelled and focused on not overcorrecting the truck into the fence. “Guess I'm not awake yet.”

  Yep, that was it.

  “What's wrong with your damn air conditioning?”

  I tucked a rogue brown curl behind my ear with a grimace. “Uh, yeah that. It's broken.”

  “You're fucking with me.”

  “Unfortunately no.”

  “And what’s that damn smell?”

  “Cow shit, probably remnants of some animal placenta and…” I took an exaggerated whiff. “Old tacos mixed with Sea Breeze air freshener. Which is failing terribly at its one job.”