Bombshell: A BWWM Billionaire Amnesia Romance Suspense Novel (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Pete and his wife Marge nervously walked into the Double XX Bar and Grill a few hours later after their upsetting visit from Sheriff Buck. On the drive into town they talked about asking the others for help. But that wasn’t the primary reason they were headed to town. The SSB, or Stop Sheriff Buck support group was having an emergency meeting. This secret group made up of entirely of vendors and business owners subjected to the sheriff’s extortion had been meeting more frequently in recent months as the sheriff and his deputy bat-boy Fletcher had been upping the ante and ratcheting up their demands.

After the sheriff and his slime deputy had left, Pete and Marge had first called all five of their daughters and told them to pack up the kids and leave town for a few days. None of them were willing to leave until their husbands got home from work, which meant Pete and Marge needed to find some way to raise the funds before two o’clock.

Marge, a gentle woman with a friendly face, was looking anything but friendly when she stormed into the bar. She’d been ranting for the whole drive into town about how wrong it was the way everyone just let him get away with murder.

Sam greeted them with a grim face as he put down an armful of debris. Several other members of the group stopped cleaning for a moment and came over to shake Pete’s hand and give Marge a hug.

Pete and Marge both looked around, scanning the damage. Thousands of dollars of liquor had been spilled, the bottles broken on the floor. Someone had put a chair into the mirror behind the bar, and an expensive-looking stage light lay on its side with a cracked lens.

“Holy crap,” Pete said. “Did
he
do this?”

“Sure did,” Sam said, “but that’s the last we’ll say of it. If Harold thinks we tattled on him, God knows what he’ll do to retaliate.”

“Why did he do this?” Marge asked as she grabbed a broom and started sweeping in a corner. “Did you miss a payment? ’Cause that’s why we’re here.” She burst into tears, and the owner of the flower shop came running over and put her arms around Marge.

“What’s wrong?”

Marge shook her head, so everyone looked at Pete. His mouth was in a thin line. Pete told them about Harold’s visit that morning and the threat he made to his family.

“That bastard,” Sam said with vehemence. Everyone agreed.

“How short are you?” a fellow sufferer asked Pete.

“Two thousand. I’ve got the usual five, but since I was late last month, he’s made the new payment seven thousand a month. I’ve already taken out a second mortgage on the house and asked my oldest daughter for a loan. I can’t do this anymore,” he finished, his shoulders slumped in despair.

“Isn’t there someone we can call?” Marge asked. “The FBI or something?”

“Maybe,” the florist said. She was always telling people how she used to be a lawyer, but then it had gotten to her, so she’d moved to Misty Falls and opened a flower shop.

“I don’t want nuttin’ to do with that,” Sam said. “If he finds out…”

“That’s the trouble with all of us. We’re making it easy for him. We’ve got to stand up to him, or he’ll bleed us all dry!” Marge said.

Everyone stared in astonishment at the quiet, soft-spoken Marge. They’d never seen her so mad. One by one, all but Sam agreed.

“We’ve got to do something, but in the meantime, who can help Pete and Marge with some cash?” asked the florist.

“Look,” Sam said. “I’ll cover it, but only if you people promise not to say or do anything.”

Relieved that they wouldn’t be asked to come up with money that they also had a hard time saving, thanks to the sheriff’s practices, the others quickly promised Sam that they wouldn’t say or do anything for now. Pete and Marge followed Sam to the bank and waited outside until he brought them the cash.

Grateful beyond words, Pete and Marge returned to the Double XX and worked hard with the others at cleaning up the mess.

Chapter Nine

Bombshell got in the car, and Charlie and Joann drove her to Merrick’s cabin. When they stopped in front of an ornate iron gate and Charlie punched in a code, she said, “I’ve never heard of a gated cabin before.”

Joann just laughed. “Oh, honey, you’re going to love it. It’s quite the architectural marvel, actually. Which is the reason Mr. Flynn bought it.”

“Nope,” Charlie contradicted his wife. “He bought it because of the creek and the fishing.”

Bombshell let out a small gasp of pleasure as they rounded the curve and she got her first glimpse of the cabin. The only thing remotely cabinesque about the building was the fact that it was made entirely out of pine logs. It looked more like a ski chalet, like something right out of the Swiss Alps. Bombshell wondered how she could know of such things, and yet not remember anything about her life before yesterday.

She shrugged. It didn’t matter. Clearly she was a very lucky and blessed woman. She had a rich and extremely handsome fiancé, and no reason in the world to fret. She’d get her memories back soon enough, and then she’d continue to live what appeared to be a wonderful life.

Merrick met them as they drove up the driveway, and Bombshell’s heart slammed against her chest at the site of him. He was freshly showered, his face smooth, his hair tousled and still damp. He wore tight blue jeans, cowboy boots and a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She could see the outlines of his muscled arms and the flat rippling of his stomach through the shirt, but it was those eyes that made her melt. Oh God, she could definitely see why she’d fallen in love with him.

~~*~~

Merrick tried to hide his nerves as he waited for the signal from Joann. When she gave him the thumbs-up, he went to Bombshell’s door and opened it. He’d been talking on the phone with Joann and Charlie, arranging everything while Bombshell slept. There was one more thing he had to do, and he needed Joann to distract Bombshell while he took Charlie around the house to where he’d hidden the shot-up Land Rover, so Charlie could take it in for repairs.

“Welcome, sweetheart,” he said as he helped her out of the car. “Just so you know, this is the first time you’re seeing my cabin, so don’t feel bad if nothing looks familiar.”

“I haven’t been here before?”

“No, darling, we were on the way here when we had the accident.”

“Okay.”

“So, Bombshell, why don’t you and Joann check out the kitchen? I need to talk guy stuff with Charlie.”

“Yes, Bombshell, help me put away these groceries, or you two will have nothing to eat.”

As soon as they were inside, chatting happily, Merrick took Charlie to the car.

“Here are the keys. Drive it to Litton to the body shop and get my replacement car. It’ll be at the Hertz offices on Production Avenue. Everything is paid for, under my name. I told them you’d be coming for it.”

Charlie nodded.

“Go with Joann to the department store and help her shop. In fact – help her get it all done fast. She’s got a big list from me of things to buy and you’ll need to keep her on track.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, Tony’s flying in this afternoon – I assume the helipad is clear of debris?”

“I’ll double check before I head out,” Charlie said.

“Good man – please keep tabs on Joann – I know how women get when they shop.”

Charlie smiled. “Don’t worry, boss,” then he headed off to the back of the house to climb the hill towards the rise where they’d bulldozed out a makeshift landing pad.

When Merrick went back inside, he found Bombshell and Joann in the kitchen. She laughed happily as she arranged apples and oranges into bowls and set them up on the large wooden table in the kitchen.

Joann looked at Merrick and said, “We’re all set in here. You going to give her the tour or what?”

Bombshell smiled from ear to ear and ran over to Merrick. “Yes, honey, give me the tour, I can’t wait to see it.”

Joann laughed and said. “You too, be good,” She headed out of the house, and got in her car. Merrick saw Charlie get into the Land Rover and he moved to block Bombshell’s view. He didn’t want her to see the shot out window and have some kind of recollection – that might make her want to stay in Misty Falls.

“Follow me,” he said and led her out of the kitchen and into the great room.

“Aww,” she said in total wonder as she walked into the room. “It’s beautiful.” He felt proud, as if he’d designed the place himself and laid every log and fireplace brick with his own hands. And then she was off, running like a small child, moving from corner to corner, bookcase to bookcase, rustic piece of furniture to rustic piece of furniture. When she collapsed in a happy heap on the sheepskin rug at the foot of the massive fireplace, he wanted to join her, to roll with her on the floor. Instead, he just smiled and walked closer to her, unable to stop himself from feeling mesmerized by her pure joy.

She was like an innocent child seeing Disneyland for the first time. She turned her happy face at him, and his heart exploded. God, he didn’t want her to remember and have to experience any of that old pain. Maybe she could stay like this forever. He wondered if the doctor might be able to ensure it. Then his face fell. No doctor would agree to do that. Hippocratic Oath and all that. But, then again, what right did he have to play God? Maybe things would work out.

She got up and tugged on his arm, like a small child.

Joann called from the kitchen, “We’re leaving now. We’ll be back around three or four, I hope.”

Merrick’s first thought was,
Great. Now I can wait for the sound of two cars going down the hill, then give her a tour of the rest of the house
. Then his second thought was,
And it can end in the bedroom, and Bombshell and I can get reacquainted for real.

He kicked himself mentally for thinking like that. That wouldn’t be right. He couldn’t take advantage of her that way. He was maintaining this fake story for her benefit, allegedly, not so he could get her in bed.

She was dragging him towards the back of the house.

“Come on,” she said. “What are you waiting for? Give me the tour.”

Merrick sucked in his libido and proceeded to conduct the tour. When they made it to the master bedroom, he held his breath as she walked inside. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted that women. Despite his clear comprehension that he had zero business ever touching her.

She ran inside the room – moving from the bathroom to the walk in closet – then hurried out to the balcony.

“Oh, Merrick, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said as she checked out his property.  “It’s like a fairy tale. Is it really ours?”

When she said the word
ours
, Merrick felt another pang of guilt. How could he tell her it wasn’t actually hers at all, because he had no intention of marrying her? How could he tell her, that they weren’t in love and that he’d never proposed to her?

“Glad you like it,” he said, but kept himself in the doorway. He wanted to move on from the master bedroom and show her the rest of the house – then find a place to hide until he got her to Atlantic City.

She came back into the bedroom, leaving the French doors to the balcony open. She took off her jacket and laid in on his bed. Clearly, she considered it her bed as well. She bent over the bed, and tested the mattress springs with the flat of her hands. As she did, he caught the shape of her perfect round ass. He wanted to walk behind her and feel the weight of her in his hands. When she plopped herself on the bed, and rolled on her back, he almost lost his resolve to keep his distance. She propped herself up on her elbows and shook her hair.

She stared at him, a small smile on her face.

Oh, God. Is she coming on to me?

Merrick’s cock stirred in his pants and he turned away, pretending to be interested in something on top of the credenza, by the door.
She’s only pretending to like you because she thinks she’s supposed to.
Don’t let it get to your head. You’re bigger than this.

“Merrick,” she cooed, “You want to take a nap with me? Joann said, I needed to get as much rest as possible.”

His cock stirred inside him, clearly game. Merrick refused to allow a body part to rule his life.

“Merrick?”

She expected an answer. What should I say? He turned just enough to see her, but not enough for her to see his cock’s opinion on the current question at hand, then sucked in a breath at the sight of her. She’d gone from being half on the bed, feet still on the floor, and elbows propping her head up – to being all the way on the bed. She lay on her side, revealing her long curvaceous body to him. Even in the oversized sweat pants – he could see the luscious curves of her hour glass figure.

With one hand, she patted the mattress in front of her, beckoning him to join her. His pulse raced as blood rushed to his cock. Her mocha eyes were almost black against the heavy lids. She was squinting at him, daring him to walk away. With all the resolve inside him, he fought back an overpowering urge to strip her naked and lick every inch of her. He cleared his throat.

“You go ahead,” he said, his voice scratchy. “I’ve got work to do.”

“Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” he said, instead of answering her.

With his lower half still out of sight of the girl, he left the room, closed the door behind him and fled downstairs, locking himself in his office.

After his body got back to normal, he stared gloomily at the clock. It was only ten in the morning. Joann and Charlie were off taking care of things, per his instructions and he didn’t expect them back until late afternoon. How in the name of hell was he going to keep his hands off her until then? He opened his computer, pulled the land line close, and looked for work related activities to keep his mind off the perfect women lying in his bed.