Make Me Forget: an Enemies to Lovers Romance Read online

I turned to catch Jake already cleaning up, his handlebar mustache wet from the open beer in his other hand. Once the bar closed, he had free access. “Can you close up, Jake?”

  He waved the bottle at me, and I drug Mara out the door back into the cold. Most of the cars were gone now, and I led her across the parking lot to her room. Once she let us in, I slammed the door behind her, cutting off the shallow light, plunging us into darkness.

  “You might not be ready to hear this, Mara, but I’ve never wanted to admit something so badly in my life,” I whispered, pressing her against the door, my lips less than an inch from hers.

  “Say it, Murphy, please.” It was the please that did me in. I closed the distance between our lips and delivered the softest kiss.

  “I love you. I’ve loved you every single day for the last fifteen years. I want to spend the next fifteen fighting with you and making up over and over again.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  I shook my head. With her only just returning, I didn’t want to throw so much on her at once. But I couldn’t live one more second with this knowledge tucked tight in my chest. I’d waited before, and then I thought her gone forever. She wouldn’t get away from me again.

  “No, I’m only asking you to stay. Here. Stay with me, Mara. Don’t leave me alone again.”

  I didn’t recognize the crack in my voice. She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned up to whisper in my ear.

  Battered and Broken

  Mara

  What is love?

  A chemical reaction in the brain to ensure the continued existence of a species? I knew it wasn’t magic. No such thing.

  I have to believe that in a world where magic existed, I wouldn’t have been left to bleed out in the sand. I would be able to tell this beautiful man I loved him too with absolute confidence. With unwavering conviction.

  Which wasn’t the truth. Did I want to love? Yes. But love didn’t save my life, or my memory, or even my sanity.

  Murphy’s letters got me through a lot, but I didn’t know if I loved him. How could I?

  I pressed up on my tip toes and aligned my mouth with his ear, and whispered the one thing I could utter with demonstrable truth. “I want you.”

  And I did.

  More than I wanted to unravel this town’s secrets. Right now, even more than I longed for the sweet mercy of memory.

  He didn’t miss the fact I didn’t say the words back. But, I had a feeling he wasn’t going to push me on it.

  “Now? Here?” he asked, his tone amenable and amused.

  I jerked at the hem of his t-shirt and grazed my fingers against the warm solid flesh of his belly. “Right here. Right now.”

  “You don’t want to talk?”

  I froze with my fingers at the top button of his jeans. “You want to talk?”

  Even in the darkness, I caught the hesitation on his face.

  “Here? Now?” I mocked as I pulled on the waistband of his jeans. He settled his fingers over mine and pried them loose.

  I sighed and let go. “Okay, so we’re talking,” I said as I plopped on the edge of the bed. It gave an unnatural squeal of the springs before going silent again. At least the faint scent of industrial soap wafted up from the comforter at its disturbance.

  Murphy flipped the light switch and illuminated the plane crash my life had morphed into. Coming home with zero knowledge, seeing Murphy, touching him, tasting him. Even now, the sight of his skin burned through my mind like an image imprinted in film with nothing but light the catalyst.

  He sat more gently next to me.

  “So what are we talking about?” I prompted. The faster we got this over with, the faster we could do other things. Like fuck in as many positions as possible on as many flat surfaces available. And when we ran out of those, we could move to the floor. Although the dingy orange carpet looked like a bad idea.

  He shrugged. “Tell me something, anything, about you.”

  I rubbed my suddenly clammy hands on my jeans. “We’ve been talking about me since I got here.”

  He slid his hand across my lower back and leaned in. “I haven’t been able to talk about you for years. I just want to get to know you again. Going through what you endured changed you in more ways than just appearance.”

  The room felt like it closed in on me, and I reached out to stop it. He took my hands in his own, but I didn’t halt at the clasp of his fingers. I threaded through his arms and pressed my cheek against his scratchy face.

  The scent of him pulled me into a fog. and my mind cleared of the slowly descending pendulum threatening to slice me open. If it fell, then I would too. If it dropped, there would be no going back. If I broke, I would never be able to piece myself together again. I could feel the weight of it in my bones. There’s only so much a person can go through before their mind and body can’t take anymore.

  I reached that border ages ago. Murphy had been the only thing keeping me on this side of the sane.

  I tilted my face up to kiss him, but he ducked back and searched my eyes. “What is it? You have that wild animal look about you again.”

  Not wanting to explain, I shook my head and ducked my chin so he couldn’t see it himself. It wouldn’t take him long to figure out, just as it didn’t take me long to figure it out.

  I didn’t love Murphy yet. But for now, I needed him more than oxygen. He’d somehow become the tether keeping my battered soul from breaking free. I’d do whatever it took to keep him. That was simply basic survival.

  Even if he professed his love, he didn’t know me, nor this darkness waiting to swallow the corpse too stupid to know when to quit. How could he love something like that, someone like me? Once he knew the truth, he’d run, and I wouldn’t blame him. Which is why I needed to get the answers to my questions and run like hell before it all imploded.

  He let me hide for a few seconds before he again tilted my chin back. I soaked in the comfort of his fingers on my face before that small touch wasn’t enough. Even if every cell strung through me longed for him, I wouldn’t beg. Not yet at least.

  “Why don’t we start slow,” he said after I didn’t break the silence. “You could come work at the bar until you figure out what you want to do.”

  “I don’t know anything about bartending.”

  “You can serve, then, and clean up.”

  I pulled back now, severing his touch even as I wanted to curl into him. “Are you inviting me to be your barmaid?”

  He rolled his eyes and stood up with a prominent squeak of the bed. “Barmaid? Come on. If you don’t want to work there, then what do you want to do?”

  I hadn’t considered much further than getting to town and finding answers to the questions which plagued me about my life. The decision to come home was based mainly on the fact that I didn’t expect to live another month. Physically I could, sure, but every breath, every step, every heartbeat, took a toll on my mind. Some days, it was physically painful to get up and get dressed. I couldn’t keep living in such a constant deluge of heavy sadness.

  This black cloud wasn’t the one you get after a long workday and your favorite coffee shop selling out of chocolate syrup. This cloud stretched so deep and dark, it had no end. When a ray of light broke up the din, it seemed like a miracle, until the flash of hope was swallowed up all over as the cloud closed back in. It was always there waiting. I put on a good face in public, but the second I found myself alone, it took hold again, harder and faster than the day before.

  Murphy and his damn beautiful smile was the only thing keeping me from giving in to it.

  I tried for nonchalance. “I hadn’t really thought about it yet.” Not the truth and not a lie.

  He sat down again, and my fingers itched to touch him.

  “Then come work with me while you figure it out.”

  “You mean, for you.”

  “Technically, I’d be paying you, but I’ve never been a boss boss like many expect.”

&n
bsp; I couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out. “And what is a boss boss exactly?”

  He made a face at my guffaw but answered anyway, still towering above me. “You know, demanding. That sort of thing.”

  In his distraction, I seized the waistband of his jeans again and pulled him closer. He stopped talking mid-sentence and stared down at me wide eyed as I looked up. I didn’t think he knew what he was doing when he gently slid his fingers through my hair.

  Without his permission, I wasn’t going to open his pants, but I took my time wrapping my hands around his well shaped ass and pressing my lips to the already bulging denim in my face.

  He let out a groan at the barest contact and nuzzled my mouth and nose against his now fully hard cock, still tucked in his jeans.

  “What are you up to?” he asked, now eyeing me in a new light.

  I shrugged. “I told you I wanted you. We talked. Now we can do other things.”

  He pulled back, and I held his ass tight, not letting him go far.

  “You can’t call that a talk. It was basically ten minutes of broody silence and ten minutes of you challenging me.” A smile spread across his face and disappeared in a flash.

  “What was that about?” I let him go.

  “Sorry it just...saying it like that reminded me how we used to be. All bark, plenty of bite if we were near each other. And one night, that for a few minutes afterward, I thought was one of the dumbest mistakes of my life, changed everything.”

  I couldn’t remember it. And I wanted to. Maybe the memory of him inside me could help with some of the darkness.

  “You said in the bar you fell into my bed. Tell me how it really happened.”

  Instead of standing more, he sat down next to me, his thigh pressed against mine this time. “It was boneheaded. I couldn’t stand to see that look on your face when—”

  His long pause didn’t bode well. “When what?”

  “Well you had a sort of panic attack after we left the bar. You looked haunted, and I couldn’t stand it. So once I could slip away, I went to your room and offered you the only comfort I could think of.”

  “Your penis you mean? That’s such a guy move.”

  He nudged me with his shoulder. “I didn’t get a single complaint from you. Although at the time, I did get the impression your previous sex life had been lacking.”

  “How so?”

  “Just some of the things you did. Like—” He stopped and hopped back on the bed to lay down, his boots hanging over the edge. Then he neatly folded his hands across his belly and looked up at the ceiling. “When I told you to lay down, this is what you did.”

  “Well, glad to see my game sucked back then too.”

  He laughed with me this time before jackknifing up and over on his side to face me. “And how was yours?”

  “My game or my sex life? Have you been with any other women?”

  “Before that night, yes. After that night, no.”

  “Why not? If you didn’t think I was ever coming back, why would you wait for me?”

  I laid down so I could look into his eyes as he answered. It wouldn’t make a difference, but despite the depression threatening to choke the life out of me, I wanted to get to know him too. He made me curious in a way I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  “I wish I had a good answer to that. But I don’t. I was hurt and threw myself into work. Dating took a back burner. When I needed to take the edge off, it happened fast, in the shower after we closed before I collapsed in bed.”

  The image of him clutching himself as water ran into the ridges of his muscles flashed in my mind. It ignited everything I tried to bank when he shut me down a little while ago. My mouth went dry, but the important parts were wet.

  “What sort of benefits package does this bar offer?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the images cascading in my head. Him touching himself in all the ways I wanted to touch him.

  “Sad to say, the only benefits at the bar are free food and free booze.”

  He slid his hand over the curve of my waist, and I shifted closer before I even realized it.

  “Come work with me. We can get to know each other better, and I can help you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

  I cleared my throat and met his eyes, wanting to be absolutely clear on my terms. “I’ll come work with you under one condition.”

  “What’s that?” He leaned down and nuzzled my neck.

  I savored the scratch of his whiskers on the sensitive skin there.

  “Fuck me. Right now.”

  What If…

  Murphy

  I’d dreamed of Mara begging me to fuck her. However, in all the imaginings of her husky voice making demands on my body, there had never been an edge of desperation like this. A razor-sharp slice of need that pushed a little too far.

  I lifted my head to search her eyes. I wanted to have imagined it, but no, the frantic hunger set into the lines around her eyes and the way her hand gripped me too tight definitely set off red flags. Not the normal amount of urgency for lying in bed with a lover. The pain in her gaze was darker and more dangerous.

  I wanted her. Fuck, I wanted everything she offered and everything she didn’t know to offer. But her eyes warned me off as much as they invited me in. “Why do I need to have sex with you in order for you to accept a job offer you want?”

  I knew exactly what she would say to that. I could have mimed it.

  “You don’t want me then?”

  It took more effort to keep from rolling my eyes than to actually resist her advances. “What part of my statement said I don’t want you?” Her curves pressing against me tested my limits.

  She threw her hands up and twisted from my grasp. “I don’t know. The part where you’re not inside me already. Most men wouldn’t have stopped to ask questions.”

  Something snapped in me. Maybe the long dormant bit that shuttered when I’d thought she abandoned me. I didn’t care. I captured her chin in my fingers. Hard enough to earn a glare. Her looks didn’t promise to kill. They swore slow and agonizing torture. Nevertheless, I endured.

  “Let me make one thing so very clear. I am not like other men. Especially any you’ve been with.”

  “Well, that list includes you, so…”

  “And when you finally relinquish whatever you’re holding back from me, I’ll be the only man you remember.”

  Her lips folded into a hard line, and I barely caught the hurt in her eyes.

  Shit.

  My realization must have been splashed across my face, because her smile turned rueful. “Too late. But before you get your panties in a bunch, I don’t remember you either. I might as well be a virgin.”

  She jerked from my hold again and rolled away.

  Way to fucking go, Murphy.

  I lay back and gave her space. It allowed me time to consider this new face of hers I hadn’t seen yet. Not the sex I’d forfeited. Both of us were entirely too volatile at the moment. Likely, it would be more of a fight than a joining, anyway. Maybe I should consider why I felt the need to take care of her even when she didn’t know she needed to be cared for.

  Saint-fucking-Murphy. The nick-name scratched through my brain like sandpaper.

  We stayed that way for too long. A wall slowly inched up between us. I eventually rolled out of her bed, left her a note to come over in the afternoon if she really wanted, and scurried back to my bar. The place I always ran back to.

  The lights were out. Everything in the place lay dormant and quiet until the old heater kicked up, sparking a cacophony of noises that were as familiar to me as my own hands.

  Instead of going back to my apartment, I went into the office and threw myself on the lumpy couch. It was older than me, but it had held up through thirty-five years, so I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it and buy a new one. I settled in and pulled a blue and black crocheted blanket from the back, a gift from a patron’s wife, and closed my eyes.

  The hurt and anger i
n Mara’s gaze hit me first. It took deep breathing and emptying my mind of her—repeatedly—to fall into a restless sleep.

  The sound of banging woke me, and the stiff springs on one side of the couch had pushed my back in the wrong way. I had to roll off the edge, onto the floor, to stand up and wobble out to the door. I shoved it open with one eye cracked, the other squeezed tight against the morning sun.

  Mara stood on the other side, hands stuffed into the pockets of her tight jeans. She wore a black t-shirt and her black leather jacket as well. “I said afternoon. This is way too early for walking and breathing and life.”

  She cracked a smile and pushed past me into the bar. I ignored her and went back to the couch, curling up in the spot I’d grooved out, and fell back asleep.

  I didn’t know how long I slept. The scent of hot coffee woke me up. At least the light creeping through the small window opposite appeared to be a little less like morning light. Mara shoved a cup of coffee at me, and I sat up to take it in both hands. “Thanks.”

  “Sorry about waking you up. I didn’t sleep much last night, so I figured I’d get an early start.”

  I kept my eyes closed, the weight of sleep still heavy in my limbs and mind. “Uh huh,” I managed.

  “You’re not much of a morning person, are you?”

  “I’m not much of an anything person. If you haven’t noticed by now.”

  I finally blinked my eyes all the way open to find her staring at me hard. “What?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head, finally looking away. “Nothing. I have no idea what kind of person you are, Murphy.” She spread her arms wide. “I’m here to find out, though.”

  Was that her version of an apology? Did this interaction require me to level one as well? I needed more sleep to consider these problems.

  “Let me clean up, and then I can tell you what I’ll have you doing.” I cradled the coffee in my hand, hoping to steal a few more seconds of shut eye.

  The snort she let out probably meant that wasn’t going to happen.