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When Memory Fails
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Praise for D.W. MARCHWELL
Good to Know
“It definitely appealed to the romantic in me.”
—Book Wenches
“I was completely enchanted.”
—eHarlequin
“A sweet romance.”
—Elisa Rolle
An Earlier Heaven
“Marchwell has done yet another fantastic job with creating a story designed to draw the reader in and keep you compelled until the final sentence.”
—Literary Nymphs
“…a beautiful reminder to count your blessings no matter how big or small, and it will linger in your heart and mind long after the last page is turned.”
—Whipped Cream Reviews
Sins of the Father
“The characters are strongly written and are sure to pull at the heartstrings of the readers.”
—Rainbow Reviews
“A thought-provoking and touching story of love and second chances.”
—Book Wenches
Books by
D.W. MARCHWELL
Good to Know
An Earlier Heaven
Falling
When Memory Fails
Sins of the Father
All available from
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
Copyright
Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
When Memory Fails
Copyright © 2011 by D.W. Marchwell
Cover Art by Anne Cain [email protected]
Cover Design by Mara McKennen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
ISBN: 978-1-61372-138-4
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
August 2011
eBook edition available
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-139-1
Dedication
For Stacia,
without whose constant support
and encouragement this book
never would have happened.
And for Elizabeth North:
Thank you for being a constant source
of light when all the others disappeared.
A special thank you to Mickie B. Ashling,
Zahra Owens, and Christopher Koehler
for giving so freely of their time and expertise.
Chapter 1
“A friend knows the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails.”
—Donna Roberts
“HANK!”
Hank heard Brian bellow at him from his office in the far corner of the building and debated whether or not to acknowledge the voice. He knew exactly what Brian wanted to talk to him about, and Hank was too tired to argue right now. All he really wanted to do was go home and lie on the sofa with Scott, the most generous man he’d ever met. It hadn’t been hard for Hank to fall for the smaller man, whose loving heart drew everyone in. But what had so completely captivated Hank was Scott’s indomitable spirit. He was fearless, a quality that had prompted Hank to give him the nickname of Scrappy.
“Hey, Hank!” Brian obviously saw him moving quickly toward the door, his hand just touching the handle.
He’d waited too long, debating with himself. If he’d made the decision a fraction of a second sooner, he’d be in his truck and on his way to wrap himself around his Scrappy. “Sorry.” Hank smiled. “Did you call me?”
“Stow that shit, Hank. You know damn well that I was calling and why I was calling you.”
Hank saw the small smirk threatening to break the façade that Brian always wore around the office, and let his hand release the door, following Brian back to the office. Before Hank could even reach any of the chairs, Brian snatched a piece of paper off of his desk and held it out, not saying anything. Hank debated ribbing his almost-brother-in-law a little more and asking, politely, if he should know what the piece of paper was about. But he didn’t, just leaned against the filing cabinet and shrugged his shoulders.
“Do you know what this is?”
“A piece of paper?”
“Hank!” Brian advanced a few paces and held out the paper, printed side facing Hank. “This is unacceptable.”
“Shouldn’t you be talking to your brother about this?” Hank’s voice was weary. He was tired of having to be in the middle of this argument. But still, he couldn’t seem to school the grin that was threatening to make this particular impromptu meeting even worse.
“He’s not the one who’s not cashing his paychecks,” Brian said, pushing the paper closer to Hank’s shit-eating grin. “I’ll be damned if I’m not going to meet my obligations to my men, my best men.” Brian pulled the paper away and tossed it toward the desk. “Now, you’re going to cash those checks, and I don’t wanna hear another word on the matter. You got it?”
“What’s the big deal, boss?” Hank pushed himself off of the filing cabinet and regarded Brian with as much nonchalance as he could muster. “Scott figures since you won’t let him help you directly, that—”
“I don’t wanna hear it, Hank,” Brian said, his voice rising just enough to cut Hank off. “I can take care of this. It’s nothing anyone else needs to worry about.”
Hank looked at his boss and saw, there in his face, perhaps for the first time, how difficult all of this must be for Brian. Hank wiped the grin off his face and regarded his brother-in-law with compassion. “Scott told me you took out a second mortgage on your house.” It wasn’t a question, and Hank knew that Brian was an intensely private person, averse to showing any kind of weakness, especially in front of his employees. As if by some tacit agreement, Brian and Hank had both recognized the need for Hank to behave like an employee while working, and not the man who was living with the boss’s rich younger brother. While Brian had started his own logging company, Scott had chosen to leave their home town and had made his dreams of composing and becoming a musician come true in Toronto, a dream that had seen Scott become a millionaire. Hank remembered the frustration in Scott’s voice when he had explained how his only brother could never bring himself to accept any money.
Hank reached beside him and closed the door. “Brian,” Hank began, “please, let us help you?”
“Hank.” Brian sighed, one hand on his hip while the other scrubbed at his forehead, as if the thought of having this same discussion again would release a ten-alarm migraine.
“No,” Hank interrupted, taking a few steps toward his boss. “It’s time for you to stow it… sir, please, sir,” Hank added when Brian shot him one of the looks he remembered very well from before Scott’s arrival had changed his life. “You helped me when I needed a second chance… after that accident.” Hank knew he was heading into dangerous territory. Scott had no problem talking about his feelings, his fears, his hopes. But Brian was not like his brother in that regard, at least not in front of Hank. “You were there for me. You and Scott both.” Hank shoved his hands into his pockets, suddenly aware that he was shaking slightly. “
You think it was easy for me to admit that I was so lost that I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing? You think it was easy for me to take a good look at myself and realize that I didn’t like myself anymore? Or easy for me to let Scott pay all the bills while you keep working to get the company back in the black?”
“We’re not talking about—”
“What we’re talking about, Brian, is allowing someone to help you when you need it.” Hank pulled his hands out of his pockets, and then, as if he’d just remembered why he’d stuffed them in there to begin with, he pushed them back in and continued. “He loves you, Brian. And I love him, so if this is what he asks of me, I’m gonna do it for as long as he wants.”
“Fuck me,” Brian said, his voice a whisper. He turned back to his desk, both hands scrubbing at his face now.
“You, above all people, should know how he gets when he’s latched onto some idea.” Hank moved to stand beside his brother-in-law, his hip leaning against the desk. “He just wants to help you. Like you helped him after your parents….” Hank let the thought finish itself, knowing that Brian was more than capable of filling in the missing words. “I know it’s hard, but the only other option is for us to sit by and watch you struggle.”
Brian lowered himself into his chair and looked back up at Hank, his expression seeming—at least to Hank—a little softer, a little less drained. “I feel like such a failure,” he whispered, his eyes darting up momentarily to meet Hank’s.
“That doesn’t mean you are,” Hank said, a supportive smile on his face as he shook his head back and forth slowly. “I don’t think you are. And I know Scott and Kari don’t feel that way.” Hank held up one hand and lifted a finger for each point. “You work harder than any man I’ve ever known. You go out of your way to help any of the men who work for you, taking care of all of us, even though you don’t have to. You’ve gone without for the last couple of months, when the company hasn’t received as many contracts as before. And you still find the time and the energy to look after Scott and Kari. I mean, for fuck’s sake, Brian, if you look at it that way, you’re the most successful man I’ve ever met.”
Hank offered another smile for his boss and then opened his mouth to mention how Brian had managed to keep this business afloat for so long, a business that relied completely on the harvesting of one of the most abundant—but precious—resources in all of Canada. Brian was the expert when it came to the business of logging; he had pioneered so many new techniques that supplied lumber without stripping the forests bare. There was no doubt that Brian was a success; the company was just experiencing a rough patch. Hank wanted to tell Brian that as well, but then he heard his boss sigh.
“I hate that this is happening, Hank.”
Hank wanted so much to comfort Brian, but he also knew that wasn’t Brian’s style. Brian had a heart as big as his brother’s but preferred to suffer in silence. Besides, comforting Brian was Kari’s job now. “What? That you’re really—in a way—working for me now? Or—”
“Fuck you.” Brian laughed and launched himself out of his chair, grabbing Hank in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles across Hank’s scalp. He released his Falling Supervisor and gave him a playful punch to the shoulder. “Thanks, Hank, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better.”
“Don’t thank me,” Hank said as he made his way to the door. He turned before his hand took hold of the knob. “The only way Scott convinced me to do this was by telling me that, if you lost the house, you and Kari would have to move in with us.”
“Go!” Brian bellowed, picking up the stapler. “Before I change my mind.”
“Yessir, boss!” Hank saluted and pulled open the door, turning just in time to see Kari standing in the hallway. “Sorry, there, sister-in-law.” Hank bowed slightly and stepped aside to let Kari pass. “Your husband was just telling me how much he wanted to take you out to dinner tonight.”
“Was he now,” Kari said through a smile. “And it’s not even my birthday.” Kari moved over to Brian’s side and put an arm around his waist, accepting a quick kiss from her husband. “Oh, Hank?” Kari called before Hank had completely disappeared from sight. “I just got off the phone with Scott. Brian and I are inviting the two of you over for dinner tomorrow night. There’s something we need to discuss.”
Hank saw the smile spread across both of their faces and knew instantly what the discussion would be about. He nodded and said his goodbyes, secretly pissed that he now owed Scott twenty bucks. Oh well, he thought as he hopped into his truck and headed home. It’s not like it’s my money, anyway.
SCOTT checked the table settings and wondered where Hank was. He’d called about forty-five minutes ago. It doesn’t take that long to drive home from the office. Scott couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been yelled at again for not cashing his paychecks. Brian can be so stubborn sometimes, Scott was thinking when he heard the front door opening. “Where the hell were you? I was starting to worry.”
“My day?” Hank sidled up to where Scott stood in the doorway of the kitchen and wrapped his arms around the shorter man. “It was fantastic.” Hank drew out the last word for emphasis. “And it just got a whole lot better, because now I’m home with my Scrappy.” Hank stole a quick kiss.
“I’m sorry,” Scott said as he let himself be enveloped by the strong arms. “So, you want to tell me about this fantastic day?”
“Brian and I had a nice talk.”
“I was wondering if he was still trying to get you to relent.” It was Scott’s turn to steal a kiss. “And?”
“I think he might actually be accepting your help now.” Hank spread his legs so that he was eye to eye with Scott and began placing kisses along the soft skin of his lover’s neck. “I think I deserve a reward for that.” Hank covered Scott’s lips with his own, his tongue welcomed inside the warm mouth almost immediately.
“I agree,” Scott said as he broke the kiss and moved his hands down to cover Hank’s tight ass. “Did you want your reward now, or later?”
“Both,” Hank purred, moving his hands underneath Scott’s T-shirt, his lips curling into a slow smile as he felt the younger man shiver. “How much time do we have?”
“Enough,” Scott announced as his hands moved to the button of Hank’s trousers. His hand slid inside Hank’s boxers, and he let out a little chuckle when he found his lover to be almost fully erect. “Looks like I’ll be starting with dessert.”
Scott placed one last kiss on Hank’s lips and then lowered himself to his knees, taking a moment to pull down both the trousers and the boxers in one quick movement. Placing one hand on Hank’s flat stomach, he slowly pushed his lover back against the doorjamb and moved his other hand to cup the heavy balls, kneading them gently. Scott slipped his tongue in between the foreskin and the swollen head, his teeth nipping gently at the sensitive flesh, closing his eyes at the muted gasps he was bringing out of his lover. He moved his tongue over the slit several times before taking Hank’s full length into his mouth, amazed that he could still reduce his man to grunts and gasps after almost two years of being together. When Hank’s hands found their way to Scott’s head, caressing and petting, Scott reached down and undid his own jeans. There were very few things that could get him as hot and bothered as how much Hank enjoyed Scott’s mouth on his prick.
“Jesus, Scrappy.” Hank sighed and began to exert a bit more pressure. Scott knew that Hank was close, and when Hank came, Scott would not be far behind him. “The slit,” Hank whispered, his voice rough and raspy.
Scott obeyed and moved his hand from Hank’s abdomen and wrapped it around the base while his tongue moved in and out and over the slit of his lover’s dick.
“Yeah, do that again.”
Scott felt Hank’s hands, still on the sides of his head, a sure sign that Hank couldn’t last much longer. Scott moved his other hand, the one cupping and massaging Hank’s sac, so that he was pushing his balls up while his fingertips massaged the perineum.
“Oh, fuck, Scrappy
, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
Scott abandoned the slit and took the entire length in his mouth again, knowing that if he began to hum and moan, Hank’s balls would pull up, his hips would begin to thrust forward, and his muscular legs would begin to tremble ever so slightly. He moved the hand that cupped Hank’s balls back and forth slowly so that he could alternate between tapping his fingers against Hank’s entrance and pushing his balls up to press against the base of his cock. Within a few seconds, Hank grunted loudly, his hands holding Scott’s head in place while he emptied himself into the warm and inviting mouth. Scott moaned and swallowed every last drop, the taste of Hank seeming familiar yet new and exciting at the same time. He pumped his own dick, moaning softly as he came, his lips and tongue still on his lover’s cock.
Hank slid down the doorjamb until he was seated in front of Scott, his arms and hands reaching out to caress and squeeze as his lips searched once again for Scott’s. “I think you’re in the wet spot,” Scott said as he undid the buttons of Hank’s work shirt.
“So?” Hank said as his lips and tongue made a trail from Scott’s collarbone to the soft skin under his ear. “That’s why I have a washing machine.” His lips found Scott’s, and he placed gentle kisses on the lips until Scott pulled away slightly.
“We should eat now.”
“You know I can’t move after you’ve done that to me.”
“Shall we have a picnic right here, then?” Scott saw his lover’s lips curl into a smile and looked down, at their states of undress. Hank’s own trousers and boxers still around his ankles. “Or….” Scott hummed the word against Hank’s full lips. “I’ll make sure everything is nice and hot for you, and you can go take a shower.”