Pieces of You
(Missing Pieces Series, #1)
Publication date: May 22nd 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance
Justin has always struggled to find where he fit in, never realising his true worth or what it means to be loved—until he met Dallas. Living and working together might be too much for some, but Dallas and Justin wouldn’t have it any other way.
When a terrible accident tears their world apart, Justin’s left with no memory of Dallas or their relationship.
Trying to put the pieces back together is almost impossible when some pieces are blank and some are missing altogether. Dallas has to let Justin find his own way back to him and just hope that their love will light the way.
“If I come back soaking wet, will it be asking too much for the boss to get me out of my wet uniform? You know, being a work-safety thing and all.”
Dallas gave me my favourite smirk. “Nah, the paperwork’s a bitch.”
My mouth fell open, making him laugh, and he gave me a quick kiss just as Davo ran into the shop with his coat pulled over his head.
“It’s pissing down,” he said. He pulled his coat off with a grin, then shook the water off himself like a dog.
Sparra followed in not far behind him, dripping wet. “Good weather for ducks, ay.”
“Yeah, you lot have a really awful day here in the fully-enclosed, dry shop. I’ve already got a call out,” I said, holding up my PalmPilot.
“Uh, make that two,” Dallas said, looking at his phone. He thumbed something on the screen, then the second booking popped up on my screen.
“Great,” I grumbled. “You lot enjoy your second cuppa. I’ll be out in that.” I nodded toward the deluge blowing in through the open roller door.
Davo and Sparra laughed and flipped me off as they disappeared into the breakroom. Dallas shook his head, smiling. He fixed the collar of my coat and kissed me. “Be careful.”
He smirked at the rain. “I’ll, uh, I’ll have the report filled out by the time you get back.”
“For the wet clothes,” he murmured, his voice full of gravel and promise.
I laughed as I got into the van. First stop was Glendale, so it wasn’t far, maybe fifteen minutes tops with this rain. I put the wipers on full bore, cranked the heater up so the windscreen didn’t fog up, and hit the road.
It was supposed to be just another ordinary Tuesday in a very ordinary life. A day of work, some laughs with the boys at the shop in the afternoon, maybe a jog after work. Or if this rain hung around, maybe Dallas and I would curl up on the couch with Squish and watch some TV, then fall into bed and make real slow love till late.
Completely ordinary, completely mundane, and completely wonderful. It was all I’d ever wanted and never dared dream to have. Until I met Dallas and he made every wrong in my life right. It was ridiculous how happy I was. Even when I woke up grumpy in the mornings, he still smiled at me and he still loved me, no matter what.
Life was damn near perfect. Actually, there wasn’t one single thing I would change if I was given the chance. Not one thing.
I sat in a line of traffic waiting for the lights to turn green. The rain had eased a little, though the taillights in front of me were still refracted by the water and the lights. Cold Chisel came on the radio, so I turned the volume up and began to sing along to “When the War Is Over.” Dallas and I didn’t exactly have a song, but if we did, this would be it. A song about learning to live again; a true classic Aussie anthem about life.
Life . . .
It’s funny how they say your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. Or that there is profound clarity the moment before your life ends.
I had none of that.
As I was following the slow line of traffic through the intersection, the light still green, and just when Jimmy Barnes was about to belt out his part of the song, I heard the sound of screeching brakes and honking horns. I just happened to look out my window at the truck aquaplaning straight for me. It was jack-knifed and sliding and coming so fast and in slow motion at the same time.
No, there was no life flashing before my eyes, no profound moments of clarity. As the grille of the truck came at me, my very last thought would have been funny if it hadn’t been my very last thought.
Oh, that’s just fucking great. The song’s just getting to my favourite part.
I waited for the sound of impact, to hear the breaking glass and twisting metal. I waited for the pain. But it never came.
N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.
She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.
She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.
She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.
She’s been writing ever since…
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