Hold on to Hope
A.L. Jackson
Contents
Also by A.L. Jackson
Disclaimer
Prologue
1. Frankie Leigh
2. Evan
3. Frankie Leigh
4. Frankie Leigh
5. Frankie Leigh
6. Evan
7. Frankie Leigh
8. Evan
9. Frankie Leigh
10. Evan
11. Frankie Leigh
12. Frankie Leigh
13. Frankie Leigh
14. Frankie Leigh
15. Frankie Leigh
16. Evan
17. Evan
18. Frankie Leigh
19. Frankie Leigh
20. Frankie Leigh
21. Frankie Leigh
22. Evan
23. Frankie Leigh
24. Evan
25. Evan
26. Frankie Leigh
27. Evan
28. Frankie Leigh
29. Frankie Leigh
30. Evan
31. Frankie Leigh
32. Evan
33. Frankie Leigh
34. Evan
Epilogue
Also by A.L. Jackson
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 A.L. Jackson Books Inc.
First Edition
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the publisher. Please protect this art form by not pirating.
A.L. Jackson
www.aljacksonauthor.com
Cover Design by LJ Designs
Editing by Susan Staudinger
Formatting by Mesquite Business Services
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Names, characters, places, and plots are a product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Print ISBN: 978-1-946420-39-8
eBook ISBN: 978-1-946420-38-1
Also by A.L. Jackson
Confessions of the Heart
More of You
All of Me
Pieces of Us
Fight for Me Series
Show Me the Way
Follow Me Back
Lead Me Home
Hold on to Hope
Bleeding Stars Series
A Stone in the Sea
Drowning to Breathe
Where Lightning Strikes
Wait
Stay
Stand
The Regret Series
Lost to You
Take This Regret
If Forever Comes
The Closer to You Series
Come to Me Quietly
Come to Me Softly
Come to Me Recklessly
Stand-Alone Novels
Pulled
When We Collide
Hollywood Chronicles
A collaboration with USA Today Bestselling Author, Rebecca Shea
One Wild Night
One Wild Ride
Disclaimer
Hold on to Hope utilizes American Sign Language within its pages. In order to give better ease of reading, they are not written in true ASL format.
Prologue
Moonlight poured in through the window where I leaned over the desk, soul twisted in two as I struggled with the decision that had to be made.
Memories spun through my mind in the most violent storm.
Battering and bruising.
I felt chained by them. Forever tied to the past where I’d been condemned.
I’d tried to change it. Tried to fix it. But I’d already caused more pain than one person should have to bear.
The only thing I could do now was sever the ties.
End this before it was too late.
Loving her had been the easiest thing in the world.
Letting her go the most brutal.
Every cell in my body wept with the sorrow of it as I leaned over the piece of paper.
The words flowed over the page.
Bitterness and regret and the little bit of hope she’d left me with.
Before I could do something selfish like change my mind, I stood, grabbed my bag from the floor, and tossed it over my shoulder.
Then I walked out the door and I didn’t look back.
Because I knew there was no atonement for this sin.
No amends that could rewrite what had been written in stone.
Nothing that could change who I was . . .
One
Frankie Leigh
“Oh, God, why is that so good?” I moaned as I swirled my tongue around the finger in my mouth.
You know, all kinds of ladylike.
But hell, when it came to food, manners could jump themselves right out a skyscraper window.
A giggle rippled from my closest friend, Carly. “Um . . . I’m pretty sure the answer to that is sugar. All the sugar.”
Right.
Which was probably why the entire world was staging a war against it, considering it made everything so damned delicious and it was hard to stop once you started.
And here at A Drop of Hope, we were in the business of delicious.
And this frosting was out of this world.
Score.
“God, get this away from me before I eat the entire thing,” I said, shoving the bowl away but not so far that I couldn’t dip my finger in for another taste.
Aunt Hope grinned like she’d won a prize where she worked on whipping up a second batch of lemon drop cupcakes.
“Good?” she asked, teeth raking at her bottom lip as she focused on getting the new recipe right.
“Describing that as good is nothing but a disservice. That is orgasmic,” I said through another mouthful I’d scooped onto my finger.
Sue me.
And besides . . . this was a tester batch. It wasn’t like I was defiling a single health department code. At least, I didn’t think so.
Soft laughter rippled from Aunt Hope where she stood opposite Carly and me at the big work station in the industrial kitchen at the coffee shop and bakery she owned with her best friend, Jenna.
Carly and I had basically been working there for all of forever, ever since we’d begged her to let us have summer jobs way back in high school.
“That good, huh?” Aunt Hope asked.
“Oh yeah. I think this might be my new favorite.”
Carly shook her head with a short chuckle. “You realize you say that about every single recipe Hope creates, don’t you?”
“All except for the bacon cupcakes,” I corrected with an exaggerated gag. “Bacon is for breakfast, or if you want to really get crazy, maybe add a slice or two to your burger. Puttin’ it on dessert is nothing short of blasphemy.”
Aunt Hope laughed. “Always so dramatic, Frankie Leigh. Only you would rank cupcakes up there with heaven and sex. I bet Jack appreciates that.” She said it with a wink, like we were nothing but girlfriends who got to shoot the shit.
I tamped down the roil of heartbreak that surged. A flashflood of it that nearly knocked me off my feet.
She didn’t have a clue of what she was saying or implying. Where my thoughts would actually go when heaven and sex were mentioned together because there was only one place in this world where those two things went hand in hand.
I wondered what she would think of me if she actually knew the truth.
I tacked on the biggest grin.
You know, nothin’ like living your fakest life.
“Hey, our job here is serious business,” I told her around
the shot of unease. “Don’t go knocking the importance of sweets. We make a whole ton of customers very happy every single day.”
I let the suggestion ride into the words.
She giggled and blushed.
Okay, Aunt Hope wasn’t really my aunt. She was married to my godfather, Kale Bryant.
Growing up, Kale was best friends with my daddy and their other friend, Oliver Preston. The three of them had been inseparable. Closer than mere friends. Tied in a way that bound their lives together permanently.
Now, all of our families were intertwined so tightly that’s exactly what we’d become.
Family.
Blood didn’t matter. Love and connections were about devotion and loyalty. The fact you’d do absolutely anything to support someone you cared about, and that same care was returned to you.
That was family.
So there was something else you should probably know about Aunt Hope—about why my spirit shivered every time I was in her space.
She was also Evan’s mama.
Pain staked through me at the thought of his name. It was an effect that happened damned near a thousand times a day.
Evan had been my best friend.
The boy who’d been at my side since I was five years old.
Through those years, he’d become the biggest part of my life.
The brightest part of my soul.
He’d left me three years ago, and still, I could feel him everywhere.
Echoing from the walls.
Taunting my spirit and teasing my mind.
He’d abandoned me when I’d needed him most.
Packed his things and left nothing but a note.
It’d nearly killed me.
But somehow, someway, I’d clawed my way out of the darkness.
Oh, but that sure didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.
Refusing to spiral, I focused on the task at hand.
Creating something spectacular, a new recipe that kept our customers flooding through the door.
Aunt Hope smiled one of her soft smiles. “Yes, we sure do keep our customers satisfied. And I have to say how thankful I am that both of you are here to help me and Jenna do it.”
When I’d first started working here in high school, I’d thought the title of barista sounded way cooler than working at my mama’s diner a few streets over.
Maybe it was a teenager thing.
Needing to spread my wings to experience something outside the watchful eye of my mama.
Somehow, through college, I’d just . . . stayed.
Thing was, every time I walked into this kitchen, I had a sense of belonging so intense that I didn’t know how to up and leave.
Now that I had my marketing degree, I couldn’t help but imagine all the places we might be able to take it.
“You know that, don’t you? We couldn’t do this without you,” Aunt Hope prodded. A flash of the sadness she’d worn for the last three years made its way into her expression.
It gutted me.
Seeing her worry.
Her confusion over what Evan had done.
Her first son had caused her so much joy and grief.
The boy special in so many ways.
Extraordinary.
Unforgettable.
I gazed over at her, wishing I could take it away. Tell her it would all be fine.
I just didn’t think I could tell a lie that big.
Her red hair danced around her shoulders, the smattering of freckles on her face glinting like specks of red glitter under the glaring kitchen lights.
I swore, looking at her was like looking directly at the sun.
A ray of sunshine that’d made itself home right in Gingham Lakes.
Hardest part was it felt so much like looking at him.
“I’m just glad we get to do this with you, Auntie. That you put up with us.” I gave her a little tease, hiding the quivering in my voice.
She huffed at me. “Put up with you? If you tried to leave me, I would hunt you down and drag you back. Place hasn’t been so profitable in years, all thanks to you.”
She set her sparkling green eyes on me. Eyes the same color as the ones that had watched me for years with an affection so intense I’d felt like I was the center of a great big, magnificent world.
The center of Evan’s world.
Maybe that’s why I’d felt so off-kilter, so lost, when he’d gone away.
No longer sure of my direction when my life had always been intertwined with his.
“Hey, way to make a girl feel like a third wheel over here.” Carly was all feigned tsks and anger.
I laughed. “I’m sorry, but your literature degree does nothing for us.”
“Um, hello, have you read the store’s bio on the website? That shit is amazing. Customers come running, mesmerized by the words. And that coupon I put up yesterday? Sheer brilliance.”
“You just keep tellin’ yourself that,” I told her, tossing her a grin as the timer dinged on the oven behind me. I slipped mitts onto my hands and pulled out the tray of triple berry scones.
Hit with the scent, I leaned over them and inhaled deeply.
God, they really did smell like heaven.
“Don’t even think about it,” Aunt Hope warned when she saw my taste buds getting the best of me.
I laughed. “Just one?”
“I’m about to start docking your pay.”
“I’m okay with that,” I told her, setting the tray on the cooling rack.
Aunt Hope picked up the batch of key lime cupcakes she’d already frosted. The cupcakes were massive, the frosting a light green and decked with the cutest slices of lime candy and a sugared key.
She knocked her hip into mine. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, and we’re even.”
I fought for a grin. She had no idea how much I adored her. How much I wished that I could erase the pain she kept hidden in the warmth of her caring eyes.
Sometimes I wondered if it was my fault.
If maybe I’d pushed him too far and too fast or maybe if I’d loved him too fiercely.
If he would have stayed if it hadn’t have been for me.
“Thank you, Auntie,” I whispered low.
She smiled and started for the swinging door that led out to the main lobby. “I better get these restocked and check on Jenna. She’s probably ready for a break by now. Can you grab some fruit tortes and vanilla crème cakes? Last time I was out there, we were running low.”
“Sure thing,” I told her, shaking off the mitts as I headed for one of the warming ovens at the back.
The sound of customers filtered in through the thin walls, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the space—vanilla and hazelnut and sweet cream—all mixed with the mouth-watering scent of the confections baking in the oven.
It was no wonder A Drop of Hope was just as popular on people’s trips home at the end of the workday as it was to help them get their days started.
Aunt Hope disappeared through the swinging door, and I situated the things I needed before I started to head out behind her.
A satisfied smile was taking to my mouth as I listened to the bustle of activity right outside. Voices carrying, the bell on the door dinging every few seconds.
No doubt, the line would be building up.
Half the time, we had people winding all the way out the door.
We always went from dead to completely slammed in a second flat.
It was go time.
I started to step out, then froze for a beat when I heard a sudden crash. Metal clanged as it slammed on the floor, and a gasp shocked the air.
It was followed by a sticky-sort of silence that bled through.
Climbing into the atmosphere.
Apprehension and distress.
My chest fisted tight, and a sense of dread came over me that made me feel like I was stuck in quickly drying cement.
My pulse hit a sluggish thud, thud, thud.
It took about all
I had to push the rest of the way through the swinging door, my feet so heavy I might as well have been wading through a vat of liquid steel.
But my eyes? They raced. Quickened to take it all in.
The customers at the counter looked around in confusion, cupcakes rolling around at their feet, and Jenna’s eyes had doubled in size where she stood stock still with a twenty clutched in her hand.
Aunt Hope was frozen right outside the door.
Her hands pressed to her mouth like she was trying not to weep.
It didn’t matter how hard I tried to keep it locked in my throat.
A sob broke free.
Echoed through the room while my heart nearly failed where it thugged and hammered and clenched in my chest.
Three years. Three years. Three years.
That was the amount of time that had passed since Evan had gone away.
Three years since a part of my heart had stopped beating.
Three years since the last time I’d seen his gorgeous face.
And now, he was there, standing inside the entrance with a flood of sunlight pouring in through the bank of windows behind him.
Lit up like an apparition.
A ghost roused.
Before he’d left, he’d long since grown out of being a boy. But now? He was all man.
Changed in every way, and somehow exactly the same.
Hold on to Hope Page 1
