An Ex to Remember
What happens when you wake up with amnesia, believing your ex-boyfriend is your current boyfriend?
“Lemmon’s appealing character work imbues this story with heart.”
“This is officially my new favorite book by Jessica Lemmon. A story I’ll want to revisit every fall.”
He always wanted a second chance with her…
All it took was a little amnesia.
Temptation. That’s what made rancher Vic Grandin ask his former flame Aubrey Collins to go home with him. But when Aubrey loses her memory the very next day, she thinks Vic is her current boyfriend—not her ex—complete with the same explosive chemistry they've always shared. Not ready to confess the truth of their breakup, he plays along. But will Aubrey go her own way again once she remembers the truth?
From Harlequin Desire: A luxurious world of bold encounters and sizzling chemistry.
🌎 International Versions
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Series Info:
Featuring Vic Grandin and Aubrey Collins
Awards:
Harlequin Junkie Recommends
“…one of the best heroines the TCC franchise has.”
“This book was wonderfully written. It tugged at my heart strings.”
What is the Texas Cattleman’s Club?
The Texas Cattleman’s Club is a long-running series at Harlequin Desire! The series is told by multiple authors, and we are each given access to a story “bible” to keep the facts the facts while we write.
In the case of An Ex to Remember, my book is #6 in the lineup. It can be read as a standalone, but there is an ongoing saga throughout the series if you want to read them together.
EXTRAS
Excerpt
At the bar of the Silver Saddle, Vic Grandin tipped a fresh bottle of ice-cold beer to his lips and let out a sigh. Tonight at the family ranch he’d gotten into it with his oldest sister, Chelsea, over—what else—who was going to be in charge of the place once Dad retired.
Butting heads with Chelsea over him being the “chosen one” was nothing new. She and Vic were oil and water and had been since the day he’d been born. His four-years-older sister was a force to be reckoned with, and it just so happened he was the reckoning who’d come to set her straight.
Dad had chosen to put Vic in charge. It’d been decreed from the day Victor Jr. and Bethany Grandin learned they were having a baby boy. Their only boy, as it turned out. Vic had three other siblings—all sisters—but none of them had given him the hell Chelsea had.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, figuring he wasn’t going to come to a solution tonight any more than he’d skip the TCC charity pool party tomorrow. He hadn’t been in a partying mood lately, but he was resigned to going. Attending the Texas Cattleman’s Club parties was tradition in Royal, Texas. In other words: mandatory for all members.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He could try his luck tomorrow and talk a curvy, bikini-clad woman into warming his sheets for the night. He’d been no stranger to strangers in his bed for the last decade or so. Why change now?
But a quiet voice inside warned that a hookup would be less satisfying than it sounded. He’d been on a sort of sexual hiatus for just that reason. Lately the company of a good woman—even for a night—had made him feel empty. A tough sell for a man who’d been seeking the rest of himself for as long as he could remember.
Before he could remind himself to snap out of his shitty mood, a musical voice wafted along the shining bar top, over his left shoulder, and dripped like honey into his ear canal. Beer bottle hovering in midair, he paused, allowing the sound to coat his body in a familiar, aching warmth. He knew that voice. The soft, kind quality of it when she was being polite, or the tremor of hurt it held whenever she was angry.
Aubrey Collins had never truly been capable of meanness. During their long-deceased relationship, meanness had been reserved for him.
He turned his head after bracing himself for seeing her, but the sight of her still sent him into a spiraling, sputtering tailspin. Her profile—the cute nose, full pouty lips and long, carelessly styled auburn hair—served as reminders for all he’d lost. Those features were virtually the same as the day she’d thrown his engagement ring at him and told him under no uncertain terms to go fuck himself.
“Evening, Ms. Collins,” he drawled, unwilling to let her flee the premises without first acknowledging his presence. He guessed their interaction wouldn’t end well, and he’d likely feel like shit on the drive home as he remembered the hand he’d had in turning his starry-eyed good girl into a jaded, bitter woman.
Since Vic was no stranger to bad ideas with worse consequences, he wouldn’t let her leave without talking to him. She’d either ignored him or avoided him over the years, but there’d been no missing hearing her ask for her takeout order a moment ago. He figured he had a few minutes, tops, to converse with his ex.
She faced him, smooth, fiery red hair sliding over one delicate shoulder. A shoulder covered with the capped sleeve of a floral dress. She looked every ounce the girl next door, but he knew beneath that tasteful frock lay a seductress who’d let loose with him more times than he could count. Now she was closer in proximity to him than she’d been in years, her green eyes flashing a warning not unlike the shake of a rattlesnake’s tail. He wasn’t scared. She couldn’t hurt him any more after rejecting him so thoroughly years ago.
“Mr. Grandin.” A regal eyebrow arched over grass-green eyes. They weren’t piercing or sharp, but gentle. It was a dichotomy he hadn’t expected when they’d met as teenagers, much like her red hair didn’t equal a hot temper. Though with him, she had managed to argue damn well.
And hold a damn good grudge.
. . .
