to it, Harley Dutch was all cuddly cub inside.
Harley’s eyes opened, and the smile that melted panties everywhere lifted his lips. Piper wasn’t immune to his charms, but he dated the type of women who would dote on him, who wore pretty dresses and said all the right things. And as Piper’s crew had so kindly pointed out, as much as she loved children and would adore a family of her own, she was never going to be a doting wife. For that reason, she was glad she was into untamable grizzlies and not cuddly cubs, because she didn’t need to ruin their friendship over what could never be more than a few nights of incredibly hot sex.
“Hi,” he said groggily.
“Hey,” she said softly. “What happened? Your mom said you got hurt at the bar.”
His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”
“What kind of pain meds do they have you on? It’s me, Piper.”
“Piper,” he said softly, his face still a map of confusion. “Are you doing construction here?”
She glanced down at her T-shirt, jeans, and work boots, all of which were speckled with drywall dust. “Don’t mess with me, Harley. You know I’m working at Windsor Hall, getting the house ready to go on the market. What happened? Are you okay?”
He looked down at his leg and said, “I sprained my ankle. Someone should be here soon to pick me up.”
She crossed her arms and said, “That’s me, doofus. Your mom called. She’s taking care of Delaney, remember? Geez, did you hit your head?”
He nodded, smiling sheepishly, which took her by surprise. He didn’t do anything sheepishly. Harley was more of a barrel-in-and-blurt-it-out kind of guy.
“Sorry if I should recognize you, but I can’t remember anything.”
“What . . . ?” Her stomach sank.
Harley was everyone’s rock, including hers. He’d made it big on Wall Street after college, returning home about four years ago, when his father had taken ill, to help his family run their pub. His father had passed away shortly thereafter, and Harley had remained in Sweetwater, their small hometown, to care for his mother, sister, and two nieces, who had all been falling apart at the seams. Though Harley and Piper hadn’t been close when they were growing up, he’d become one of Piper’s closest friends since he’d moved home. He made a habit of being a pain in her butt, giving her grief about one thing or another and scaring off her dates. Even so, she couldn’t help but love the big, burly bartender. He was one of the few guys outside of work who wasn’t intimidated by her directness, her inability to put up with bullshit, or the way she’d dominated the male-driven construction industry, becoming one of the most sought-after contractors in the area. She spent more evenings hanging out with Harley and their friends at the pub watching sports or eating dinner than she spent at home. She couldn’t imagine her life without Harley in it, and the thought of him not recognizing her caused a crushing feeling in the center of her chest.
She sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers. She couldn’t reconcile her large-and-in-charge friend with this man who seemed so lost. “You don’t recognize me? Do you remember your family?”
He shook his head, his eyes turning serious. “Wait, are you my girlfriend? Have we knocked boots? Because I’m sure I’d remember a sweet little darlin’ like you in my bed.”
“God, even with amnesia you’re a pain in my ass.” She dropped his hand and said, “I’m going to find a nurse and figure out what’s going on.”
She pushed to her feet, and he snagged her wrist, yanking her down so their faces almost collided. An arrogant grin slid across his lips, and he said, “Maybe if you kiss me, I’ll remember the rest. Or even better, what do you say we make a few new smokin’-hot memories?”
He winked, and she tore her wrist free, anger simmering inside her. “You ass! I should let you stay here and rot!”
Laughter rumbled out of his mouth, and he smacked the mattress. “I got you good, Trigger!” He called her Trigger, or Trig, because it didn’t take much to get her fired up.
“You’re lucky I don’t have a gun to pull the trigger,” she snapped. “I thought you had seriously forgotten everything. I was worried about you, and you’re playing games!”
“Aw, come on, Trig,” he said with a softer tone. “Admit it was funny.”
“How about