AllFreeNovel
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I’m in jeans and a white shirt. Lots of things have changed. Wearing five thousand dollar suits on a tropical island didn’t seem practical and turns out, casual is comfortable. I’m in a new fucking season of my life and there are benefits I didn’t expect.
One of the patrons at the counter whistles, his red beard and bloodshot eyes telling me this isn’t his first port of call. “Hey, bubble butt, another whiskey and have one for yourself, too. Then, come lean over the counter here and show me those tits.”
She smiles, it’s fucking fake but I’m gripping the edge of the table until my knuckles turn white. That smile should be for me. I watch her pour his drink, then throw him a little wink as he laughs, shifting in his seat, battling back a boner I’m sure.
Because I am.
“You’re too pretty for a place like this.” He keeps on, changing his tactic from crude to caring.
“Thank you,” she says on a teasing wink. “I’m just working here while I’m waiting for my prince charming to sweep me off my feet.”
“Well, maybe I could be him? Gimme a kiss and find out.”
She smiles again. It’s fake but I see red.
In a second, I’m out of my seat and my fist connects with his bony jaw. He goes sideways fast, coming right off his stool as he scrabbles against the counter, managing to stay on his feet. His fist swooshing through the air, but I swipe it aside, step forward and swing again, feeling my knuckles squish into his eye socket.
“Stop! Read the sign, no fucking fighting!” She screams, throwing a whiskey bottle at my head, but I’m too far gone to care.
I step forward again, grabbing the guy by his collar and hauling him to his feet. He’s maybe thirty, thirty-five, so twenty years or so younger than me, but some things you don’t forget. Like how to be a tough motherfucker.
He throws another punch but it’s pathetic. My fist is in his gut so fast and so hard I wait for the contents of his stomach to spew from his mouth.
“Stopfighting!” She barrels out from behind the bar with a baseball bat.
Fucking temper on my little angel.
I grunt, marching the guy forward, doubled over and groaning, and toss him out into the street. Then I turn, slamming the door behind me.
“Getout!” Hannah screams, pointing the bat at the door as I meet her eyes. “Get out before I call the police.”
I shake my head, stepping forward. “I’m never fucking letting you out of my sight again, babygirl. Never. Not for a second.”
She hesitates as I grab the bat and drop it to the floor where it rolls a few feet away as recognition flits over her features. She knows who I am. “I… told you to get out,” she says, her tone flat but her eyes alive.
“Make me.”
“I… I’m calling the police…” She reaches for the wall phone, her fingers shaking as they settle on the receiver.
“Who am I?” I ask, moving through the pass and behind the counter. The other patrons are staring. I don’t care. Hannah takes a step back, but it’s half-hearted. She wants this as much as I do, she just refuses to believe. “You know,” I tell her. “Who. Am. I?”
“No, I—”
I crowd her with my body against the sink where two glasses topple over, shattering on the floor, and my lips are on hers. The kiss is deep and meaningful, telling her everything I wanted to tell her before the plane crash, before the coma and amnesia. Before I disappeared.
Our mouths know the truth, and she sinks into the kiss, letting me hold her up as I devour her, sliding my hand down to her ass, between her legs, hearing her moan as I press my thumb against her clit.
“Daddy’s home,” I murmur as the kiss breaks, and she shakes her head.
“No.No. I don’t want you here.” Tears crest her bottom lids, and my heart skips a few beats. “You left me. You. Left. Me.” Shock has turned to hot anger, and I don’t blame her but I also don’t care.
“I’m never fucking leaving you again. Come on.” I nod toward the door, sweeping my arm around her waist like a python and squeeze.
She digs in her heels, pulling away. Her eyes flashing with that temper that only makes my dick throb more. “I saidno. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m working. I—”
“My girl doesn’t have to worry about money.”
Her eyes narrow. “Really?” she scoffs. “Well, I’d like to know what I was supposed to do for the last year. Perhaps I should have gone back toMaaaaaargaretand asked for an allowance?”
