Don't Forget Me Tomorrow
A.L. Jackson
PROLOGUE
I stared at her from across the room.
I could feel the walls closing in, and the need I’d had for her for my entire life growing stronger than it ever had. As if the two of us were hinged on this moment.
“Tell me I’m not too late. Tell me you still love me.” There was no stopping the plea.
Pain and desperation twisted through her expression. “Do you think I could ever stop loving you?”
The second she said it, I snapped, and I was across the room.
I crashed into her in a landslide of greed.
One hand dove into her hair and the other curled around the side of her neck as I crushed my mouth against hers.
Really kissing her for the first time.
Nothing had ever felt quite like kissing Dakota Cooper.
It was flames and heat and pure relief.
I sucked it in, imbibing the feeling as I devoured her mouth.
My chest nearly blew with the power of it. With the way my heart thrashed violently at my ribs. With the devotion that surged from the sacred place that had always been meant for her.
Except I’d always known why I couldn’t touch her. The reasons I’d built the walls between us.
Why she was only supposed to be my best friend’s little sister.
I’d crossed a line I wasn’t supposed to cross.
And I should have known I’d have to pay the penalty…
ONE
RYDER
What the fuck was she doing out here?
I slowed my motorcycle as I came upon a small white Volvo SUV pulled off to the side of the road, its hazards flashing through the dusky light as the summer day faded into grays.
My guts tangled in a knot of worry.
We were twenty miles outside of town, and the two-lane road was basically desolate except for a random car that whizzed by.
There was no mistaking that car. The rear window was a fucking billboard for the country market and café Dakota Cooper owned. It wasn’t like I blamed her for wanting to advertise, but I didn’t love that every fucking person in this town knew her name, either.
Where she worked and where she lived.
Not that there was a ton of privacy in a small town the size of Time River.
Everyone knew everyone.
And even if she lived in the middle of a bustling city, I was pretty sure she would have made a name for herself, anyway.
Hell, I figured every time she smiled at some unknowing fool, she carved herself into their memory.
Made her mark.
Unforgettable.
Protectiveness lined my insides in a sheet of steel.
It was nearing dark, and she was out here in the middle of nowhere.
By herself.
Any monster could roll up and catch her unaware.
Just like me.
My bike came to a rumbling stop ten feet behind her, and I killed the engine, tossed the kickstand, and swung off as I took stock of the situation.
Dakota was more than capable, but it still made me itch that she was on her knees in front of the back-passenger side tire, cranking at a handle on the jack to lift the rear-end of her car.
Looking like a goddamn vision beneath the rays of the setting sun.
I tamped the bolt of lust that stirred my dick, something I’d gotten really fucking good at over the years, and I edged toward her, my boots crunching on the loose gravel.
Awareness rippled through the twilight with my approach.
A flash of tension before it settled into something familiar and right.
“Funny, I didn’t see a call or text from you,” I said, words rough and carrying over a big truck that blew by, sending a flurry of debris scattering through the air.
Dakota glanced my way. The hint of a smile played through the shiny gloss coating her lush lips.
“That’s because I didn’t call you.” Her voice was a tease as she continued to crank the handle, though her breaths were coming hard with her exertion as the back-end of her Volvo slowly hoisted.
At least she had a blanket spread on the ground to protect her bare knees since she had on one of those sundresses she always chose to wear. Black fabric dotted with pink flowers that hugged every lush curve of her body.
I thought she might have been prescribed specific attire with the sole purpose of driving me out of my mind.
“You should have.”
“What, you think I’m not capable of fixing a flat tire?” Eyes the color of cinnamon and fire glinted back. “I seem to remember someone who insisted on making sure I knew where the jack and spare were when I bought this car.”
She arched a brow. Her cheeks were full and high, and the threat of that tiny dimple on the left side of her chin flickered and danced like temptation.
“Yeah, that was so you would know how to do it for when I’m not around, and here I am.” I lifted my tatted arms out to the sides.
Except if she had called an hour before, I wouldn’t have answered. I’d have been too wrapped up in the bullshit dragging me under. A millstone around my neck.
One day it would be the reason I drowned.
The thousand shades of brown in her eyes danced as she peered up at me, and she chuckled a low, throaty sound that shivered over my skin. “Of course, you are. Tell me you’re not stalking me?”
Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I let a smirk ride to my face. “You know it. It’s my job to know where you are at all times.”
“Is that so?” Her expression twisted in playful disbelief.
“Isn’t that what friends are for?”
“Friends? Hardly. It sounds to me you’re acting more like my overbearing brother. I swear, if it was up to the two of you, I’d never step foot outside by myself.”
Sounded like a solid plan.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” I asked.
“I had to pop over to Costco in Poplar to grab some things for the café. What are you doing out here?” She tossed it back at me like she figured I’d been up to no good.
I had been, but I doubted it was what she was thinking.
Shame locked down my throat. As close as I was to Dakota, there would always be a wall. A place I couldn’t let her see. The fucking last thing in the world I wanted her to know about me.
My jaw clenched as I forced out the lie. “Just felt like feeling the wind on my face. My bike was calling to me.”
“A little hot for that, isn’t it?”
“Never too hot for me.” The smirk was back in full force.
With the history around us, I was thankful we’d gotten to this place.
Where we could be easy together.
Friends, even though it was fucking painful being this close to her most of the time.
But I would take her any way I could have her.
She scoffed and turned her attention back to the jack, clearly picking up on the innuendo I couldn’t help but slide into the conversation. Before I could let my brain spiral into depravity, I strode the rest of the way up to her.
It cast her in my shadow where I towered over her.
“Are you going to get up off your knees and let me help you, or are you just going to leave me standing here staring at you like a lazy prick?”
Leaning back, she swiped a bead of sweat that trickled from her hairline with her bare shoulder.
My fingers itched with the urge to reach out and trace the spot. But touching her was the last thing I could do. I wouldn’t taint her goodness with the sickness of me.
“Haven’t you learned yet that you don’t need to ride in like the cavalry, Ryder?”
“I already rode in, Cookie, so you might as well let me.”
I’d started calling her that years ago.
Now there was no way I could stop.
Pushing to standing, she waved at the flat tire. “Fine, if it makes you feel more like a man, then go for it.”
I shook my head at her. “Are you trying to bust my balls?”
“Someone needs to.” She punted me a grin.
I started to move to take her place, but she bent over to straighten the skirt of her dress.
It speared me to the spot.
Her tits were heavy and spilling out of the scooped neckline.
Her hips full and wide and perfectly hugged by the fabric.