All for Hope

by Olivia Hardin

  Brennan unflexed the hand above her and brought it down flat against her stomach; at the same time he braced his other hand on the headboard behind her. The sound of Hope’s soft hiss of breath at once turned him hotter and also gave him pause. He looked deep into her brown eyes, searching for an answer to his unspoken question. She licked her lips and tilted her head up to him, offering her mouth in reply.

  He didn’t waste a moment in taking possession of the lips he’d been thinking of for weeks. The taste of her, the feel of her hot tongue seeking out his sent him spiraling close to a point where he knew he’d never recover.

  Her hands dove under his shirt, touching his chest, his stomach, his back. He groaned in response, then trailed his mouth down to kiss her face, to nibble her neck, to lick her collarbone.

  It took all of his willpower for Brennan to rip his mouth from her luscious body. He sat down on the bed, one hand still holding tight to her waist while the other reached down to take her left one. He held her hand and rubbed his thumb over the cheap gold band on her finger.

  “I need to be a man for once in my life, Hope. I told you I would keep my distance. It will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but if you say the word, I will leave right now and go sleep somewhere else.”

  She smiled at him. God, I love that smile, he thought even as her fingers slid between his and clasped onto his hand. A soft nip at his lower lip was all the prompting he needed and Brennan laughed and groaned at the same time.

  He clasped her with both hands, lifting her torso to connect with his in a crushing embrace. As he claimed her mouth with his again, a voice in the back of his head warned him to slow down. He had wanted her for so long, looking at her from a distance, yet so close he could almost taste her on a daily basis. He didn’t want to expend all of that pent-up desire in no more than an instant.

  Hope wasn’t wasting any time though. She tugged his shirt up past his chest, releasing a frustrated moan when he broke their kiss to get it over his head. When his lips regained contact with her mouth, they breathed together and she raked both hands up, then down his back toward his rear end.

  “Hope, I’ve needed this for so long.” He groaned against her neck, burying his face in her hair when she slipped her hands inside his pajama bottoms to cup his backside and pull him against her.

  He moved away from her so that he could remove his pants. When he turned back to her, he became mesmerized by the sight of her slipping her own shorts past her hips and down her legs so that she could toss them to the floor. The movement was so quick he barely caught a glimpse of her most private parts, but he didn’t have to wait long to set his eyes on all of her.

  She crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and yanked it over her head. A lovely pink crept up her neck to her cheeks, and he wondered if it was the fact that she was suddenly naked before him or the enthusiasm of the moment that had her blushing. She was ravishing, all soft and curvy. She didn’t have the ultra-toned body of most of the women he dated; those were women who spent hours in the gym and ate only spinach with vinaigrette.

  Hope’s body had natural magnificence. Real beauty. And he was almost desperate to explore each and every twist and turn of that beauty.

  “My God, you’re gorgeous.” His voice sounded rough. He tore his gaze from her body to look into her eyes where he thought he saw worry. The look was fleeting, and when she licked her lips and smiled shyly he felt his erection twitch and strain with need.

  “Bren, kiss me,” she murmured reaching out to him with her mouth.

  He did, stretching his body beside hers at the same moment that he tasted her, sucking her lip into his mouth like a sweet candy.

  She hooked one of her legs around his, tightening her hold on him. Her hips moved, thrusting in search of his and he skimmed one hand down towards her buttocks.

  Hope’s skin was silky smooth. His fingers floated along the surface, barely tickling across her rear, along the cleft and down between her legs so that he could reach the heat of her.

  She sucked in a breath, tossing her head back with a moan, then a whimper when he grazed his teeth across the pulse in her neck.

  The hand between her legs cupped her fully for a moment, then his fingers sought the wetness there and pressed inside her. She bucked against him, taking hold of his face and forcing his lips back to her own.

  He was dizzy from her desire for him, and he thought that he might self-destruct if he didn’t make himself one with her. She seemed to understand perfectly, opening her legs and imploring him with a single word.

  “Please.”

  He might have plunged into her in a quick forceful movement, but he wanted this moment to last. He wanted them both to remember it for what it was: a moment they had waited weeks, perhaps years to have. Inch by inch he connected his body to hers, until their hips were solidly bonded.

  It was perfection. It was all-satisfying. It was the beginning of much more. Dipping his lips to feather kisses to hers, his breath mingling with her own, they both began moving.

  “Hope—” he murmured. “Hope—”

  He exhaled her name with each drive of their hips until he couldn’t form any more words or even any coherent thoughts. There was only ecstasy and explosion, then she cried out, and they both found blessed release.

  The next morning Hope woke up to an empty bed. Searching the room, she saw no sight of Brennan, but she soon heard his voice just next door in the nursery. Yawning, she stretched her body out and smiled to herself as she remembered the events of the night before.

  When she entered the nursery, she found Brennan sitting cross-legged on the floor with Michelle on his lap. He had both her hands in his and he was clapping them together as he played “patty-cake” with her.

  It was easy to forget that Brennan was not her husband, and that Michelle was not her own child. It was as if they were in a magical place where no one else could find them, and they could live happily ever after. She tried to ignore the voice in the back of her mind that reminded her that she shouldn’t let down her guard.

  “Good morning,” she called from the threshold, and he looked up with a wink to smile warmly at her.

  “Good morning. Sleep well?”

  “Better than I have in weeks.”

  He was quiet a moment, then he set Michelle down in the playpen and nodded. “Me too.”

  “So, are you ready to tell me what happened yesterday?”

  He shrugged as he passed her and began to unpack the baby's clothes, setting out a little jumper for her. “Not much to tell. Before I left to get our things the old man told me about my mom. She was in love with this Nate, and he told her if she married him, he’d disinherit her. She was “smitten,” as he says, and ran off with him. Oh, and he also tried to buy Nate off, but apparently my father taunted him and said one way or another he’d get her entire fortune. He’s determined we should stay here until the cottage is ready.”

  “And will we?”

  “I guess. What do you think?” Before she could answer, he switched gears again. “You know there’s something my mom always said to me that keeps coming back. ‘Your choices are etched in stone, Brennan. Once they’re made, they can’t be undone.’ I think maybe when she made the choice to go with my father, even though he never would marry her, she couldn’t ‘undo’ it. Maybe she was too proud to come back to her brother. I don’t know. Hope, do you trust him?”

  She just put her head down and smiled at the baby. “I do.”

  “I don't know what I think. Jeremy is apparently not pleased at my arrival. He tried to convince the old man that I was a fraud. Probably just scared I'll try to get away with all his fortune. There’s apparently a trust that’s shared equally with all natural children of my uncle and his sister. Until now, his sister didn’t have any.”

  “I like Meg.”

  “Meg?” he asked, confused.

  She smiled. “Your cousin's wife.”

  “My cousin,” he grumbled.

&nb
sp; “Yes, your cousin, Bren. And that 'old man' is your uncle. I thought you’d be happy about all of this, about finding your family.”

  “I did too, but now that I'm here and see this family and their intimacy and even Jeremy’s possessiveness about his father. I just feel cheated and I’m—”

  “Angry.”

  “I don't know.”

  “Don't worry, Bren. If this doesn’t work out, you can go home. Michelle and I will find somewhere to settle. I feel calmer now, clearer, and I know that I’ll be okay if that happens.”

  He became pensive, the muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching. “We should use the new names even when we're alone, that way we'll remember when we're not.”

  She knew there was something else going on in his head; the gears were turning so rapidly she might have heard them grinding.

  With a heavy sigh, she nodded. “If you think it's best. I thought we should tell your uncle the truth.”

  He whirled around to look at her as if she were crazy. “This is your problem, Sealla. You are the one who kidnapped that kid. Do you really want to take a chance on these people? We don't even know them. What happened to the nervous cautious woman—”

  “Maybe I just trust too easily.” she murmured not even certain he could hear the words. Shoving herself between him and the baby, she heaved Michelle up into her arms and hurried out of the door.

  “Hope, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, Hope.”

  Hope stopped and turned to him. “It's Sealla, remember, Brennan?”

  She left their chambers before he could say another word.

  Brennan sat in the grass just behind the cottage with his elbows propped on top of his bent knees, watching Hope as she struggled to climb to the top of a very steep hill. He prepared to go help her when she stumbled, but she picked herself up and kicked the rock that had tripped her. He laughed as the stone bounced down the incline to the bottom, then he shoved his hands against a tree to propel himself to his feet.

  It hadn’t take her long to forgive him his cold words that day they had first arrived at Arrington Manor, although a few hundred “I'm sorrys” hadn’t hurt. Still, forgiven or not, it had reversed the turn of their relationship. She didn’t demand a return to his previous promise not to breach their friendship with physical intimacy. She didn’t have to; he read her body language loud and clear. She wasn’t going down that road again.

  When he tracked her down and offered to help her all those weeks ago, he hadn’t expected things to come to this. He hadn’t thought the affection he had for her could grow, but somehow it had. He’d told her wanted to bring her here to New Durma to give her a place of safety. He’d even told himself that, and that as soon as she was secure, he’d return home. Jim was expecting him to come back any day now too. He knew it wasn’t right to leave his friend alone all this time to manage the business, but he just wasn’t ready to go back.

  It never was simple with Hope and Bren. He remembered well the night everything ended between them; their love, their friendship, their companionship.

  They had worked together to throw Jim a going away party. All their friends were there, even some they hadn’t seen in years. Jim’s face was worth all the trouble, because when he walked in, his eyes lit up, and he looked like he might pass out.

  It was while Bren and Hope were hugging him that Trisha approached. He could see the instant Hope realized he was with the other woman. The glow that had bathed her face evaporated.

  He knew what kind of girl Tricia was, and he wasn’t fooling himself about it. She was trouble, but so was he. He liked the way she could drink right alongside him without any censure. He liked that when she got high, she never saw the need to screw with other guys, or if she did, she was good enough at keeping it from him. She gave him the “plastic” relationship he wanted; a good-time girl he could count on. She didn’t place high demands and expectations on him.

  Tricia broke things off with him that night, shortly after speaking with Hope. He knew what that meant.

  “What the hell possessed you to tell Trisha those things?” Bren asked later, sitting on Hope’s couch. He had a key to her apartment and always had. He very rarely ever used it.

  “What things?” she asked, feigning innocence.

  “Dammit, Hope, I liked her. I liked what I had with her.”

  Hope thought long and hard before she approached him, taking his hands. “You’re right, I did talk to her, but you don’t want to become involved with her, Bren. Trust me. I know her. She’ll get you back into the drugs. She’ll use you and—”

  He snatched his hands from her and stood. “Hope, you have got to stop trying to be my mother! I don’t need you to take care of me! For God’s sake, I’m almost thirty years old. Leave me alone!”

  She looked at the ground, her face still, frozen, then she stood and looked at him.

  “Yes, that would probably be best. I can’t do this anymore either, Bren”

  She took a deep breath and gave him a sad smile. “I love you. I’ll never reach a point when I won’t love you. It’s tearing me up to be near you, but I haven’t been able to find a way to fix it. I haven’t been able to leave you. It would be best for us both if you did the leaving. You’re stronger than I am.”

  “Hope, I didn’t mean I wanted you out of my life.”

  “Yes, you did, Bren. I’m holding you back from whatever it is you want out of your life right now and—please leave. I can never live my own life if you’re here. Please, just go. It hurts too much to have you here.”

  They were both silent for a long, long time, then Brennan looked up from his hands and approached her. He reached out to take her fingers and she jumped away.

  “Hope, look at me.” he said in a ragged whisper, and she did. “I’ve known all along that you’re in love with me, and I wished it would go away because I care about you. I’ll leave and never come back here if you want.”

  She nodded, unable to speak as tears poured from her eyes.

  He smiled, then chuckled slightly. “I’m losing one of my best friends, you know.”

  Then he leaned down, pecked her lips, and left her.

  Driving away from her house that night had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Almost as hard as the day he attended his first AA meeting. A knot in his throat told him that if he tried to go again, it was going to trump both of those life events. He didn’t think he could bear leaving her and that baby.

  He observed as she stopped at the top of the hill and stood looking out over the expanse of countryside. The strong wind whipped her hair against her face and threatened to throw her down. Bracing her legs far apart, she lifted her face to the cold air and closed her eyes as if it were the most invigorating thing in the world.

  “I feel like an icicle, Sealla. What on earth are you doing out here in the cold?”

  She frowned, though she didn't bother to open her eyes and look at him. “I was trying to find some peace and quiet.”

  He stood. “I was trying to find you,” he said against her ear, and his warm breath made her shiver.

  He smiled when she stepped away from him, obviously in retreat. “I miss you. I miss the way we were.”

  “Is your uncle expecting us to attend that party tonight?”

  “Yes,” Bren responded. “I know what you’re thinking. I don't think we can take that chance. There will be about a hundred people there and—”

  “How will you explain that to your uncle? He’s looking forward to the chance to show off his new nephew.”

  “I'll think of something.”

  “Why not the truth, Bren? Don't you know you can trust him by now?”

  “No, I don't know.”

  Brennan heard her sigh through her teeth. He knew he was being unreasonably stubborn, but he just couldn't bring himself to tell Sir Rawley about them. God knew he had tried several times, but something-- a screaming voice in the back of his head--had always stopped him.

  “Feeling better?
” James asked from the doorway of the nursery.

  “What?” Hope looked up from changing the baby's diaper to frown at him in confusion.

  “Brennan said you weren't feeling well.”

  “Oh!” Hope said too loudly. “Yes, I suppose I am feeling a bit better.”

  “Good, then you still have time to dress and make it to the party.”

  “I really don't think—”

  “There's something the two of you aren't telling me,” he said and the grimace on his face showed her how much that hurt him.

  She nodded an acknowledgment. “Yes, there is something.”

  “Won't you tell me, dear? I am family.”

  “I—I want to tell you, but Bren—Brennan doesn't—”

  “Bren’s my nephew. If he’s in trouble, I should help him,” the man told her, and Hope dropped into a chair in surrender.

  Before she could help herself, the entire story spilled from her lips along with several tears.

  Lord Rawley yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, frowning as he digested the incredible tale. He watched, almost smiling, as Hope dabbed at her eyes and wiped her nose.

  When she seemed to have calmed, he took a deep breath and stood.

  “Well, then,” he said in a sure voice. “I suppose it wouldn’t do to have you recognized in public, but Brennan, on the other hand, is not an outlaw. I won't have the pleasure of showing my nephew in public taken from me. I think it would be safe for him to go, don't you?”

  “Yes, and I think he needs to get out. Brennan is used to going out and having parties. He needs to have some fun.”

  “Don't blame yourself for this situation, girl. He chose to come with you. The two of you did what you had to do to save that baby. It was a very brave thing.”

  A nervous laugh bubbled from her, and she dropped her head against the baby's. “I'm not so brave. I want you to take Bren to the party so that I won't have to deal with his wrath until tomorrow.”