AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I chew the inside of my cheek, feeling a little ashamed because that’s exactly what I was going to do.
“It may be a little forward of me, but seriously, if you wanted to touch me in inappropriate ways, I’d never report you.”
I smack at him when he inches closer to me, a chuckle escaping past my lips.
“You’re awful,” I accuse, but Brent tries to move out of my way and bumps the table with his hip.
I watch in horror as the food and the cup of coffee on the tray splatter all over the floor.
“My pancakes!” he says, but that hint of laughter is still in his voice.
The door swings open and several concerned people file into the room, making more of a stink over breakfast on the floor than I’ve ever seen.
I reach for the hand towel near the sink, but Brent beats me to it.
“Why aren’t you helping clean this up?” Susan snaps.
“I made the mess,” Brent says. “Sunshine isn’t working today. I’ll clean it up.”
I want to groan in annoyance. Does the man not understand that I shouldn’t be in this room if I’m not working?
“Nonsense,” Susan says before turning her attention to one of the other aides. “Go grab Mr. Porter another tray.”
The girl scurries away to do her bidding.
I glare at him when he looks over his shoulder as others clean the mess on the floor. He throws me a wink, his smile growing wide when I can’t help but grin at him.
Chapter 20
Bishop
Not showing pain is easy. More than anything, it’s a mindset, something I did long before I lost my memory. Marines aren’t known to show weakness. People expect more from us than they would the average Joe.
Hiding full body exhaustion is a little more difficult, not that Legacy is paying me much attention.
“This thing is fucking incredible,” he says, pressing the button on the remote that controls the recliner.
I watch, my eyelids heavy, as he holds the button until the chair positions him into a nearly upright standing position.
“I need one of these back in my room at the clubhouse.”
“You’re perfectly capable of standing up from the fucking chair,” I grumble, resisting the urge to rub at my eyes like a tired toddler.
“Exactly,” he says, shifting his hips forward. “A fucking chair.”
He waggles his eyebrows at me. The man is hilarious, and I have no doubt I’d actually laugh at his ridiculousness if I weren’t so tired.
“Hell, you might get some use out of it with that hot-as-hell nurse.”
I don’t know how many stars have to align or what I did in a past life or hell, even this life, for karma to make Sunshine walk in right when he says it. Legacy is holding imaginary hips in his hands, his body still thrusting when he notices her.
“Shit,” he grumbles.
“I’m not a nurse,” she says before rolling her suitcase down the narrow hall toward the second bedroom. I hate the deprecation in her tone.
“Asshole,” I snap at him after I hear the bedroom door close softly.
“She didn’t shut down the idea though,” Legacy says, his smile growing wider.
“I’m not going to mess around with her.”
“Really?” He looks genuinely confused. “Mind if I try?”
He laughs when I growl at him.
Legacy showed up at the care facility this morning, not long after breakfast ended up on the floor, with strict orders from the boss to take me to the house Kincaid made arrangements for. He’s acted like we’re best friends ever since without missing a beat.
Sunshine packed my things even though I told her I could do it myself while Legacy chattered about anything and everything. I understand the man. The Marine Corps gave us opportunities to bond and make friends for life, but there were times we were thrown into a group without knowing anyone. You either made friends quickly, or you sat bored as hell in your bunk.
I can appreciate the man for acting like I’m not different. He hasn’t asked me questions or grilled me about my memory loss. He hasn’t tried to force memories in my head or even utter the words do you remember when…
“She brought in a suitcase,” Legacy says, his laughter calming as his eyes dart down the hallway. “I thought she got paid for like a six-hour shift.”
“The woman is exhausted,” Kincaid says walking into the living room. “It’s easier for her not to have to go back and forth from home in the middle of the night. It’s not safe.”
Legacy doesn’t argue. As much as I want to tell him I don’t need her help if she’s too tired, I keep my selfish mouth closed. I know she needs the work, and it’s not like I’m going to have her washing my clothes. If anything, she’s getting paid to just keep me company.
I frown at the thought of her being paid to ultimately be my friend. Jesus. What if she needs the money so badly that she actually doesn’t like me at all?
