Broken With You by Kenner J

Author:Kenner, J. [Kenner, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Suspense, Contemporary, Adult, Mystery
ISBN: 9781940673875
Amazon: B07F6QPG8D
Goodreads: 40696683
Publisher: Martini & Olive
Published: 2019-06-18T07:00:00+00:00

14

“You remember how to ride a bike well enough,” I say, as we both bring our bicycles to a stop. We’ve been riding for the last hour, first on the Venice Beach bike path, and then through the cute little neighborhoods of the coastal LA-area town.

“Let’s walk for a bit,” he says. “I saw someplace I want to check out.”

“Someplace you remember?”

“Maybe.”

I’d been about to suggest food, but since his plan sounds promising, I decide to ignore my growling stomach, appeasing it with only a long swig of water from my bottle. The bikes are ours—not that Mason realizes that he’s riding his own bike—and we brought them here from Silver Lake on the rack that’s a semi-permanent fixture on the back of my Highlander.

Now, we lock them back onto the car, and I follow Mason’s lead as he weaves us back toward Windward, one of the main streets that runs perpendicular to the ocean.

He twists and turns and obviously knows where he’s going. I’m honestly not paying that much attention. Instead, I’m lost in my thoughts, wondering how he can remember his way around a town but not his wife.

Which is why I’m completely blown away when he stops at a corner, points down the street, and says, “There. We passed it earlier, and I want to go in.”

He’s pointing at Totally Tattoo.

“Do you remember that place?” My mouth is so dry it’s hard to get the question out.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I think so. I thought we could go in and ask them if that’s where I got this.” He taps the tribal band below the sleeve of the Grateful Dead T-shirt he “borrowed” from Mason.

I follow him toward the shop, forcing myself not to cross my fingers. I want so bad for it all to flood back. Maybe it’s foolish, but I can’t help but think that if he just finds the right key, all of his memories will ease back into their proper little boxes.

Could our wedding tattoo be that key?

All the chairs in the parlor are full, but Cass herself isn’t doing anyone’s art. Instead, she’s sitting at the counter, her laptop open and a scowl on her face.

“What a warm and welcoming look for those of us entering the shop,” I say with a laugh.

“Hey, you two,” she says, glancing up. Her hair has streaks of magenta today, and she’s wearing it in a ponytail, probably to keep it out of her way as she works.

“Bookkeeping?” I ask.

“The devil’s work,” she says. “I’m absolutely sure of it.” She smiles at Mason, and I hope she remembers that for the time being, he’s Jack. “Did you have fun at Westerfield’s?”

“I did,” he says, his eyes cutting to me. As for Cass, her gaze shifts between Jack and me, and she looks a little too much like a girl with a secret. Honestly, I love Cass, but it’s a good thing she doesn’t work in my profession.

“I didn’t realize this was your place,” Jack says. “Denny

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