River looks up and says with a dead-straight face, “Your pussy just knows a good man is here.”
My mouth falls open, and if my face didn’t hurt so much, I’d screw my mouth up, and roll my eyes. “I can’t believe you said that.” I sit on the other side of the cat, and try to tempt him away from River.
“It’s not my fault your pussy likes me.”
“Stop,” I say, trying to hold in the smile.
“What? You can see I’m stroking your pussy, and it’s purring. Obviously, it has good taste.”
This is a losing battle. “Fine, the cat likes you.”
“Yes, the pussy does.”
“Stop saying that.”
“What?” He smirks.
I look over to the pot bubbling away on the range. “Chicken soup, eh?”
He gives me a nod. “Did you take your pain killers?”
“Not yet. I’ll take it after I eat. I’m tired though, I could do with a nap.”
River taps his phone to life to look at the time. “After you eat.” He stands and walks over to the pot, lifts the lid, and is hit with a steam facial. “Man, I do that every time. You’d think I would’ve learned.”
“So, you know how to cook?”
“A few things. Mom taught me. Said if I was going to move out, then I should know how to cook. She also said a man should learn how to take care of his love, so she doesn’t feel like she’s being taken advantage of.”
I sit back on the sofa, and the cat moves to curl up beside me. “Remember the very first time we met? Or kind of met? In that coffee shop? I was ditching school, and you were sick.”
“I wasn’t sick,” he says.
“Yeah, you were. Your mom gave you a kiss, and your face lit up like the flashing lights on a fire truck.”
“That was when that guy tried to steal money, and you shoved him, or tripped him or something? I remember thinking to myself you had balls of steel. I thought you were the most awesome girl I’d ever laid eyes on.” He smiles.
“I don’t have balls of steel, I just hate it when people do something like steal. Or spit. Spitting is revolting.”
“Why does stealing bother you so much? I mean, I hate it too, but I’d like to know why you hate it enough to bulldoze a guy who could’ve had a gun on him and shot you.”
I keep petting the cat, who’s now sound asleep beside me. “One Christmas, when I was like nine or ten, really young. Anyway, it was Christmas Eve, and we’d gone out to dinner. Dad had gotten a Christmas bonus at work, and he wanted to take us out to celebrate. We had the best night. Oh my God. Charlie ate so much he vomited, and we laughed so much, and just had the best time ever. It was honestly a Christmas I’ll remember forever because of that. So, we came home about nine-thirty, and when we got inside, the entire house had been ransacked. They stole everything they could carry. Including our Christmas presents, and the rest of Dad’s bonus, and the jewelry Mom wasn’t wearing. They trashed all our bedrooms, even throwing eggnog all over the beds. They knocked the Christmas tree down, and smeared the Christmas pudding all over the walls. It totally destroyed Christmas for us.” Shit, I can’t believe I’m tearing up.
River comes to sit beside me, wraps his arms around me, and gives me a tight hug. “That’s horrible.”
“Stealing, to me, is one of the worst things a person can do. Mom cried for two days straight. They’d saved and bought us great presents they couldn’t afford to replace. I hated seeing my parents so broken. I made a vow to myself to speak up when I see someone stealing something.”
He kisses me on the side of my head. “That’s horrible. I’m sorry you had to go through something so traumatic.”
“Well, it wasn’t you who broke into our house, was it?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then you have nothing to be sorry for. But, thank you.”
There are a few minutes of quiet, and my head is reeling with the remembered events and emotions of that Christmas. It still hurts. Not for me, but seeing the pain my parents experienced when we opened the door and saw the house trashed.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yeah, what?” I ask.
“This weekend is the candy festival in town, and I want to know if you’re going.”
I look at River. “The candy festival? What on earth is the candy festival?”
“A lot like the flower festival, but it’s for different types of candy.”
I blink rapidly a few times, trying to get my head around this all. “Candy, really? So, like Halloween?”
“No one dresses up, though if you’d like to, I won’t say no,” he cheekily adds. “Especially a hot maid outfit. With a feather duster,” he mumbles.
“I’m not dressing up. I think my face will be enough to scare anyone away.”
River flicks his hand. “We’ve all seen a broken nose before.” He gives me another kiss on the head, then stands and heads toward the stove. He lifts the lid, but this time steps back so he doesn’t get a face full of steam. He stirs the pot, then grabs a tablespoon, and tastes it. “Oh yum. Yeah, it’s ready. Come on.”
Getting up, I disturb the cat, who gives me a grumpy look before he repositions himself and goes back to sleep. I go to the cabinet to grab two bowls, but River beats me to it. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of you.” He reaches for the bowls, and ladles soup into one, and places it on the small table. “Sit, eat.”
He’s making it incredibly difficult for me to keep my distance from him. The more he does, the more I want. “Thank you.” I look down and notice he’s forgotten the spoons. I stand and take one step away from the table.
“What are you doing?”
“I need a spoon.”
“Let me care for you, Hope.”
“But you don’t have to.”
“You’re the biggest pain in the ass known to man. I know I don’t have to, but I want to. So please, stop fighting it, and let me care for you, woman!”
I can’t help but smile with the way he called me woman. “Fine, it’s only a damn spoon.” I sip on the soup. “Why aren’t you at work today?”
“You fell and broke your nose. You’re more important. Anyway, I was able to move the jobs I had to tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay. Thankfully the house is tented for at least the next day or two, so I can’t do much over there. But once the tent comes down, I’m back there.”
“Good. You have to give yourself time to heal.”
“I will over these next couple of days. Anyway, you heard what the doctor said. He wants to see me again in three days, to check on the swelling and how it’s healing.”
River takes a deep breath, then lets it out. “I’d prefer you to rest for at least three or four days.”
“I’ll make a compromise.”
River lifts his brows. “Go on.”
“I’ll go back to work when I feel like I can.”
“That’s not a compromise, that’s a ‘I’m going to do what I want.’”
“I promise, if I feel like crap, I won’t go. Charlie can hold it together until I’m feeling better.”
“Deal.”
“But only if I think I need some extra time to heal.” River grumbles. “Deal?” I hold out my hand.
River looks at my hand, then extends his. “I don’t have much choice in the matter, do I?”
“Not really.” I smile, pleased with myself that I can get away with it.
He takes a sip of his soup, then says, “And just so you know, you can come stay at my house so I can keep an eye on you, or I’ll be staying here. And no, that’s not negotiable.”
“But…”
“No. If you’re a stubborn ass about going back to work, then I’m going to be a stubborn ass about making sure you’re okay to go back to work.” He stares at me proudly.
“Fine,” I grumble.
“Good. Eat up.”
He’s such a pain in the ass. But I’m so glad he’s here.
Waking up, I’m temporarily confused about where I am. I can hear the sound of waves, and I can smell the ocean spray from here. Looking around the room, I remember that River brought me to his house last night.
Extending my arm, I reach for River. Nothing’s happened between us. Nothing has happened, because I know I’m only here to restore Old Roger’s house.
The sound of soft humming is coming from somewhere beyond the room. When I open the door, I find River in the kitchen, cooking. In sleep pants. Shirtless. (Yes)
God damn it, why does he have to look so good? I lean against the door frame, staring at him as he hums and makes breakfast.
Jesus, he’s doing something to me. Every part of me is loving what I’m seeing. His dark bed-tousled hair, his broad shoulders, the perfect muscles slightly protruding on his back. My God. My lady parts are starting to tingle, and in this moment, I want to climb that boy like a damn koala scales up a tree. Holy shit.
“Stop staring at me,” he says without turning.
I point at him, ready to argue how I wasn’t staring, but my voice has decided to defy me and just squeak. What am I? A damn school girl?
“Omelet?”
“Depends, can I eat it off you?” My eyes widen, and I’m horrified that I actually spoke those words aloud. “I mean, yes, thanks.” What the hell is wrong with me?
“Would you like me to lay on the table, or would the bed be a better place?”
I shake my head, completely mortified at myself. “I don’t know what you heard, but I didn’t say anything.” I move closer to him, and really try not to look at him in the ‘I’m so horny I want us to screw on every surface of your house’ way.
“Mushroom, spinach, tomato and cheese omelet for you, my love.” He walks over to the table, places the plate down, and pulls out the chair, waiting for me to sit.
“Where’s yours?”
He walks into his room, and comes back with a shirt on. Damn it, why? I liked my eye-candy. “I’m making it now. But you start eating, because it doesn’t taste as good when it’s cold.”
“Then you have it, I’ll wait for the next one.”
I sit, and he pushes the chair in. He leans down, and gives me a kiss on the top of my head. “Nope. You eat. Mine will be ready in no time.” He walks over to the range, flips his omelet, then brings over the coffee pot. He pours me a cup, and pours one for himself. He looks at my uneaten breakfast. “You’re going to be a pain in the ass again, aren’t you?”
I crack a smile. “I’ll eat when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
Looking out the window, I can see the ocean maybe thirty yards from where we are. “It’s pretty here. How did you end up in Hope River?” I ask.
“I wanted to slow down. I um…” his voice sounds heavy, like he has a lot he wants to say, but he’s scared if he tells me what I’ll think. “I wanted to slow down,” he says again.
“You don’t have to tell me.” But I’m itching to know.
“After that last night with you. The one where you saw the message…” I nod. “I didn’t handle what Claire did to me well. It broke me actually. I started drinking, and drinking, and drinking.”
“River, I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t. It got bad, and I went off the rails for about a year. I refused to talk to anyone, until Mom found me covered in my own vomit, and she snapped me out of it, really fast. Made me go to AA, stuck by me. Although I was quickly turning into an alcoholic, it was just a coping mechanism for me. Claire did a real number on my mental health. Mom made me also realize, how much I…” he stops talking, and shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“No, tell me. What was it?”
He presses his lips together, and offers a weak smile. “How much I shouldn’t have let it affect me.” That’s not what he was going to say, I know he’s lying.
“And then you found Hope River?”
“Not really, it’s like Hope River found me.”
“That’s weird, how does a place find you?”
“My Dad knows someone who lives about an hour that way.” He points over his shoulder toward the right. “They were building a house, and Dad offered my electrical expertise. So I went to help, and I saw Hope River on the map, and thought, wow. It has your name and my name in the town’s name, so I knew I had to move here.”
“Because it has our names in it?”
He nods. “I also hoped that one day, Hope River would find you too. And, it has. Because you’re here.”
“You moved here for us?” My heart flutters with so much emotion.
“Yep. And I found this place. It wasn’t in great shape, but now it is because of all the work I’ve put in it. I owe it to myself to be happy, and I’m happy here.”
“Wow.” Really, wow.
“And how did you come to Hope River? I know Old Roger’s house hasn’t been advertised for years, so how did you find it?”
This is going to be hard. I pick my fork up, and eat my omelet. “It’s a bit of a story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
How much should I tell him? All of it? Part of it? “I was in a long-term relationship, and one night, he came home drunk as anything. He hit me.”
“He did what?” River asks in a low voice.
I hold my hand up, as I lick my lips and take in a breath. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay.”
“I’m not condoning what he did I’m just saying, I had his balls in my hand and I told him I’d mail them back to his mother.” River doesn’t crack a smile. Instead, I can see he’s ready to go find Grady, and kill him. I place my hand on his tense arm. “It’s taken care of.”
River’s jaw is clenched, but he loosens it enough to say, “Go on.”
“I packed a bag, got in my truck, and drove. Asked the universe to be kind to me. I happened on a sign that said Hope River, and I laughed, because I also recognized that it’s our names combined. As I was driving through, in the middle of the night, I stumbled upon Old Roger’s house, and the rest, is history.”
“Let’s go back to this guy.”
“Let’s not. He’s in my past, not my future. I’m selling the house we were living in, and moving away from it. He worked for me, but obviously, he doesn’t anymore.” River’s omelet is half-eaten, instead he’s looking out at the water, thinking. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know how to react.”
“Um, okay. Why?”
“Part of me wants to find him, and kill him. Another part of me is angry at myself for messing up with you when I saw you at the club and letting you go. And another part of me wants you to stay with me forever, where I can protect you and look after you.”
“I don’t…”
He stares at me, and holds his hand up. “Before you tell me you don’t need protecting and looking after, you have to know that’s not what I meant. You’re not a damsel in distress. You’re feisty, and strong, and the biggest pain in the butt I’ve ever met. But I want you to stay because I…” He reaches for my hand, entwining our fingers.
Ring.
Ring. Ring.
River stops talking, being interrupted by his phone constantly ringing. “Ignore it,” he says as he looks over at the counter top to where it hasn’t shut up.
“Okay.” I too look over. His phone stops, then starts not even a second later. “Answer it. It won’t stop until you do.”
He stares hard at me, brings his brows together and stands so abruptly the chair slides back across the floor. He picks his phone up, grimacing. “Mom, are you okay?” He runs his hand across the back of his neck. “Okay, calm down. Tell me what’s happened.” He walks over to the slider that frames the ocean so perfectly. He tilts his head to the side, then nods. “I’ll be there by nightfall.” Turning to face me, his expression changes from worried, to blank. “Okay. Okay. Yep.” He hangs up, and leans against the
glass slider. “I’m sorry, Hope. We’re going to have to pick this up when I get back.”
“What’s wrong? Can I help? Can I do anything?”
“Yes, you can stay here until I get back.” He strides into his bedroom, where I follow.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Dad. He had a stroke.”
His eyes fill with tears, and I can see he’s doing everything to hold them in. Shit, I can see he’s about to fall apart. “Hey,” I say as I go straight to him. I step into him, and he envelops me in a huge hug. “What did your mom say?”
“He’s in the hospital, I need to go.”
“It’s okay. He’s in the best place he could be. It’ll be okay.” I don’t know what else to say.
“I’ll be gone for a day, maybe two.”
“Take your time.”
He kisses my forehead, then keeps packing his bag. “Where do your parents live now?” I ask.
“About five hours south.” He looks at the time on his clock beside his bed. “If I leave now, I should be there around one. I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Okay.”
He slides his sleep pants off, and I’m not sure I should be looking considering he’s in a vulnerable state, but damn. Stop it!
He slides on a pair of jeans. Damn it.
Stop thinking with your vagina, Hope.
Anyway, it wouldn’t be fair to start a relationship with someone whose roots are in Hope River. In a matter of weeks, I’ll be gone. It’s not a kind thing to do to him, or myself.
I have to break away from him. I’ve let this go on too long. It’s not fair to either of us.
He packs his clothes, and is changed fast. He turns, comes to me, and laces his hands through my hair. Leaning his forehead to mine, he says, “Promise me you’ll be here when I get back.”
I can’t promise that, because I won’t be here. “Go, be with your family,” I say in a quiet voice.
He kisses me again on the forehead, then picks his bag up and leaves. “Before I go, here’s a set of keys. Can you please lock up if you go into town or anywhere?”
“Sure.” I smile, but inside I’m dying. I know I’ve got to cut this off here or it’s going to end with two hearts so shattered, neither one of us will be able to love anyone ever again.
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