Page 43 of Rescuing Mary

Thinking about work made Mary think about Truck again. And thinking about Truck made her more determined than ever to make him want her. Even if he only wanted to sleep with her, that was better than nothing, and it would keep any other woman from warming his bed. And if Truck, God forbid, never regained his memory, she’d do whatever she could to start their life over. Even if she had to propose to him this time.

Chapter Eight

Truck was looking forward to the night. He enjoyed hanging out with his friends at the bar near post. It wasn’t the most trendy place, pretty much a hole in the wall, but he and the others hung out there all the time, and he’d even picked up a girl or two. Of course, Hollywood usually got first choice of the women since he looked like a fucking movie star, but inevitably there’d be someone who was willing to go home with him, despite his scars.

Hollywood and Fletch weren’t there tonight though. It seemed they weren’t partiers anymore. Truck could understand Fletch not wanting to come, but Hollywood bailing surprised him. He’d made up some excuse that sounded totally made up, but Truck didn’t want to think about what the real reason was behind his friend bailing. He was sure it had to do with whatever everyone was keeping from him, but for once, he didn’t want to worry about it. Ghost was there, as were Beatle, Blade, and Coach.

Truck didn’t want to worry about the doctor telling him there was a chance he’d never regain the three years he’d lost. Or about how his head was still throbbing…had never stopped throbbing since he’d woken up in Africa in the middle of the op. All he wanted to do was hang with his friends, flirt with some women, and try to feel normal once again.

He was going stir crazy sitting in his apartment. There were times he’d look around and feel as if something was missing…but as soon as he’d have the feeling, it would disappear. Every now and then, he’d also swear he could smell some sort of flowery scent, but when he inhaled deeply, it was gone.

Truck wanted to be back at work, but he still had a few weeks to go before the doctor allowed him to return on a part-time basis. He’d also been warned about drinking alcohol, but he needed a beer. Just one. He hated how off-kilter he felt.

Truck had been playing darts with the others for about half an hour when he felt a hand on his back.

Resisting the urge to turn and take out the person with his leg, Truck turned to see who was dumb enough to touch him while he was holding, and about to throw, a lethal dart.

A woman was standing there, one he didn’t recognize. Not that that meant much, since he didn’t recognize a lot of people these days. She had long brown hair and had curves in all the right places. She had a nice rack and was pretty. She was wearing a blouse that was a bit too low cut for an innocent night out. The look in her eyes as she ran them up and down his body made it clear what she wanted from him.

In the past, Truck wouldn’t have hesitated to throw his arm around her shoulders and pull her in close. Hell, if a woman hit on him, Truck was all about seeing if they had enough chemistry to take her home, but tonight felt different.

He was different.

Truck had no idea why, but the thought of taking a woman home, this woman home, didn’t sit right with him.

“Hey,” the woman drawled as she flirtatiously ran a finger up his biceps.

“Hey,” Truck returned, and his eyes skipped to Ghost. The other man was doing his best to ignore Truck and the woman at his side. He’d get no help there.

“My name’s Ruth,” the woman said.

“Truck,” he said in return.

“Truck,” she purred. “I like it. Maybe later you can rev my engine.”

Truck wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained. Barely.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Ruth asked. “You seem to be the only one not drinking over here.” She giggled. A high-pitch sound that grated on Truck’s nerves.

“No thanks,” he told her, not wanting to get into why he wasn’t drinking. He’d finished the one and only beer he was going to have. It tasted awesome, but like the doctor had warned, it also made his head throb more.

“Come on,” she cajoled, then leaned into him, pushing her tits together so her cleavage was prominently on display. “Have a drink with me.”

“I’m in the middle of a game,” he told the woman, who was now officially annoying him.

“Okay, babe. If it’s all right with you, I’ll just sit over here and watch.” Her eyes went back down his body and rested on his crotch for a beat too long. She licked her lips then looked back up at him.

Truck mentally sighed. She was way too obvious. She wanted to see his cock. Wanted to know if it was as big as he was. He’d encountered women like her all too often. They didn’t care about him, per se, they just wanted to sleep with the giant and get their freak on. One such woman had even told him it was a good thing he had a big dick since his face was so fucked up.

He turned to Beatle and quipped, “I see this hasn’t changed in the last three years.”

Beatle almost spit out the beer he’d just taken a sip of, but managed to swallow it so he didn’t spew all over the bar table they were standing near.

The other men chuckled, but didn’t help him get rid of the annoying woman. Knowing he couldn’t be rude—it just wasn’t his style—he merely nodded at the woman, and then sighed in frustration when she beamed up at him and shimmied onto one of the barstools nearby. She leaned over until her elbow was resting on her knee, which made her tits just about fall out of the shirt she was wearing.

Truck turned his back on her and rolled his eyes at Blade. The other man smirked at him, then said, “Still your turn, Truck.”

“Right,” he said, then tried to turn his concentration back to the game. Darts wasn’t exactly a challenge for the Deltas, all of them got bullseyes with almost every throw, but it passed the time. And it got Truck out of his apartment…which had been his goal. For the first time that week, he felt almost normal.