Where There's Hope_A Well Paired Novel

by Marianne Rice

  They sat close to each other on a small vinyl booth whispering in hushed tones, laughing and pretending they could read the Chinese writing on the wall.

  “What does that one say?” Hope pointed to the sign above their heads.

  Cameron swiveled and rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “It says, You must give away your beef skewers or no kisses for you.”

  “I don’t think so, buddy. Those steak things are my favorite.”

  “More than kisses?”

  “Smithfield order is ready,” the woman behind the counter called.

  “Saved by the food,” she teased.

  It didn’t take long to get to Corner Street. He pulled into the gas station and drove around back. “It isn’t much.”

  “Cameron.” She gripped his arm before he could get out. “I don’t care what your apartment looks like. I’m the last person to judge. I’ve been living in my parents’ home until just a few weeks ago. Thirty-one years and never had my own place.”

  “Beats prison.” His lame attempt at a joke fell flat. “I’m not destitute, but it kinda looks that way. I’ve been saving for...” No. Better to have that discussion inside. “Let’s go.” He reached for the take-out bag and made his way to the passenger side, helping Hope down from the truck.

  “Hey.” She pulled his arm back when he started to walk away. “It’s inside here that counts.” She laid her hand over his heart and rose up on her toes to kiss him.

  This woman. He didn’t deserve her.

  Cameron led the way up the dozen stairs and unlocked the door. “The Penthouse awaits.” He stood back and let her enter the apartment first. “I wasn’t planning on company. I—”

  She shushed him and placed a finger over his lips. “Every time you apologize for...for being you, I get...” Hope ran her tongue across her teeth then grinned. “An extra beef skewer.”

  “That’s not fair,” he said, kissing her finger.

  “Then stop being a whiner.”

  “I’m not a whiner,” he whined, then scooped her up into his arms and kissed her. Taking it deeper, stronger, harder than before. This time they didn’t have to worry about spying eyes, and didn’t have the steering wheel or other obstacles in their way.

  Only they did. The crushed bag of Chinese food was warm in between their stomachs. Cameron kept his lips locked around Hope’s and maneuvered them to his kitchen counter where he set the bag of food.

  “You taste so good,” he breathed into her mouth.

  “I brushed my teeth right before you showed up,” she murmured before sucking his tongue between her lips. Her hands gripped the back of his shirt, pulling it free from his khakis.

  Cameron laughed and groaned at the same time. He needed to simmer down their kisses before he did something reckless.

  Like pinning her to the counter and stripping her down naked, and having his way with her. Reluctantly, he slowed his kisses and let his lips travel across her cheek, down her neck, and behind her ear. “You smell good too.”

  “I smell like Chinese food.” She ran her hands under his shirt, massaging his back.

  “Mm. I could eat you—” Again with the innuendos. Those were lines he said and meant in the most dirtiest ways back when he was a punk who was after a quick lay. And while he wanted to do all sorts of sweet and erotic things with Hope, he didn’t think talking dirty was appropriate. It didn’t turn him on like it used to.

  Cameron kept his mouth on her neck and brushed her hair aside. He moved his body behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her backside into his body. When she rubbed her ass against his groin he cursed and stretched himself back, away from her body. He moved behind her to give his body time to recover from the crazy amount of sexual chemistry between them.

  Only the plan backfired. His stomach growled, saving his sanity, and Hope laughed.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starved.” In more ways than one. Cameron released her and picked up the paper bag. The grease had already seeped through the boxes, making dark splotches on the bag. “It’s not exactly the healthiest of meals.”

  “That’s not an apology is it?”

  “Stay away from my beef skewers. I didn’t say anything about my sleazeball apartment.”

  Hope snatched the takeout container out of his hand and held it to her chest. He smirked and reached in the bag for the container of beef skewers, sliding one out and biting into it.

  “Hey! That’s not fair.” She reached out for the bag but he caught her wrist, trapping it in his hand. “Smooth move.” Hope sidled up to him and pressed her breasts against his chest. “Kinda turns me on.”

  She licked his chin and his jaw went lax, as did his grip around her wrist. Hope nipped his lip, then plucked the carton of beef out of his hand and ran to the other side of the kitchen.

  “You little,” Cameron snapped his mouth shut and forced himself not to laugh. Hope had her body wrapped around the food like it was her lifeline. “Okay. I call uncle. Let’s sit down and eat. If there’s an odd number of skewers, I’ll let you have the extra one.”

  “Let?”

  “You can serve the plates. Fair?”

  “Chauvinist, are we?”

  He couldn’t win. Cameron wanted to be fair, to treat Hope like a lady, but he was new to the dating game, and not only because he’d been in prison for so long.

  “Hey. Why the someone just ran over my puppy face. You’re not that upset about the food, are you?”

  He didn’t mean to wear his emotions on his sleeve; it was all so new to him. Having a conversation with a woman, laughing and teasing one another. The only other time he’d done this was in New York. With Hope.

  “I’m sorry.” Cameron held up his hand to cut her off before she could speak. “I’m not apologizing for my apartment.” Even though it was a dump, he thought. “This dating thing. I’m new to this. I want to do it right.”

  Hope set the carton on the counter and wiped her hands on her butt. Oh, how he’d like to do the same with his hands. She crossed the kitchen in two short strides and rested her wrists on his shoulders.

  “You’re doing it very, very right, Cameron. And in case you were wondering, this dating game is pretty new to me as well.” She kissed him lightly on the lips, and he responded in turn. “Now let’s eat before we forget about food and do that rushing into things thing you keep saying you don’t want to do.” She nipped his chin again and slipped away.

  He kept waiting for the ball to drop. For Hope to do something, say something that would take her off that pedestal he’d put her on so many years ago. But she kept rising higher and higher until she reached angel status.

  They piled their plates high with food and shared the one bottle of water and one beer he had left in the fridge.

  It was the perfect second first date. One he’d remember for the rest of his life.

  Because it was the second time he fell in love with her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  HIS NERVES WERE ADORABLE. The gender roles had been reversed. Cameron was the insecure one, unsure of what he wanted out of the relationship, while Hope knew exactly what she wanted.

  Cameron. All of him. Preferably naked. It wasn’t just because she hadn’t had sex in over a year. It wasn’t because he was mostly willing. And it wasn’t because he had an endearing smile and a genuine soul.

  Hope wanted him because she loved him. Again. She loved him on their first date in New York, and she crashed hard for him earlier tonight when he gave Delaney a beautiful, thoughtful birthday present.

  And she loved him even more as he worried about making their date special.

  They washed the dishes together, which didn’t take long. Two plates, two forks, and a knife. Cameron stored the leftovers in the fridge and tossed the empty cartons away while she watched.

  “You know, it’s real sexy watching a man clean.”

  Cameron cinched up the handles on the trash bag and lifted it out of the can. “Now who�
��s being chauvinist?” He winked and set the full bag by the door.

  Hope checked under the sink and found the box of trash bags. She took one out and lined the bin.

  “Thank you.” Cameron kissed her cheek and went to the sink to wash his hands. “You’re my guest tonight and shouldn’t have had to help clean.”

  “The dishes were a bit cumbersome. I’m sure my manicure is ruined after washing all of them.” She studied her short, unpainted nails with a sarcastic huff.

  “Brat.”

  “Name calling? Definitely the worst date ever.” She saw the insecurity in his eyes and cursed herself for being insensitive. “I’m kidding, you know that, right?” Hope saddled up to him, trapping Cameron between the counter and her body. “Dinner with a sexy man. No kids around. No parents. What’s a girl to do?”

  “Hope,” he warned.

  She didn’t care anymore about his good intentions. “Cameron.” She slipped her hands into his back pockets and leaned her chest against his. “I’m not good at this taking it slow thing.”

  He rested his chin on her head, and she inhaled his scent. Soap and kindness, bottled up in a wall of sexy. She nuzzled into his warm chest, comforted by the feel of his arms around her. This. This was what love felt like.

  Two people holding each other, trusting each other, just happy to be with each other. They stood that way, wrapped in each other’s love for a long time. Long enough to see the lights of the cars down below pull up to the gas pump and leave. One after the other.

  Cameron was the first to speak. “I guess I should bring you home now.”

  “Now?” He nodded. “But...” She was grasping at straws, not wanting to leave the magic of his arms. “You said you didn’t want to eat at a public restaurant so we could talk.”

  She felt his head shift, and his cheek rested on her head. “Your parents shouldn’t be driving around late at night.”

  “They live ten minutes from my house. They can stay out past nine. Unless you’re trying to get rid of me.” She knew he wasn’t. That he was afraid of hurting her, which only deepened her respect for him.

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Well, then, let’s sit on the sofa and chat. Maybe cuddle. I’ll even let you cop a cheap feel.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have a sofa.”

  She did notice. The kitchen hosted three cabinets, a counter big enough to hold a coffee pot and a small microwave, a fridge meant for a garage, not the inside of a house, and a scarred table barely big enough to hold their two plates.

  The living space, which appeared to also be where he slept, wasn’t much bigger than Delaney’s new bedroom. A navy sleeping bag was rolled up in the corner, a pillow in a white pillowcase resting on top. And next to the pile were three stacks of neatly folded laundry and a pair of work boots.

  To say Cameron was living as a minimalist was putting it mildly. The floors were dingy, as were the walls, but it was clean, if not incredibly outdated. But the apartment didn’t characterize Cameron. It was a foil of who he really was.

  “Are you still thinking about my lack of sofa?”

  Hope had let her mind wander, which only fed his insecurities. “I am.” She pulled away from his warm chest and peered up into his eyes. “I like your sleeping bag. Think it will hold both of us?”

  “You’re really testing me.”

  “You’re going to fail at this date, epically fail, if we don’t at least get to second base.”

  “I thought you wanted to stay so we could talk.”

  “You can talk if you want. I’m a good listener. I’ll just touch you every now and then, you know, to help speed up the process.”

  Cameron’s body shook with laughter. “I’m not going to be able to end this date without taking my shirt off, am I?”

  “Now we’re talking.” She led him to the living room and dropped his hand so she could unroll the sleeping bag. “It’s like a slumber party. Without the slumbering.” Hope kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the bag, patting the spot next to her.

  Sex with Cameron would be intense, so very, very intense. She’d need to add some humor to it or she’d spontaneously combust.

  Kicking his shoes off with another chuckle, he joined her on the bag, their backs resting against the wall.

  “What do you want to talk about?” She rested her head on his shoulder and interlaced his fingers with hers.

  “I don’t want to ruin our night.”

  “Then take your shirt off and tell me.”

  Again, he laughed. This was nice.

  “How about we talk first. Then, if you still want to, we can both take our shirts off.”

  “Oh. I likey.”

  He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “So fire away. Ask those questions you’ve been holding back. My life is an open book. For you.”

  She liked that last part too. While she wanted to know everything there was to know about Cameron, she didn’t want the entire world to be privy to his secrets.

  “Tell me about prison life.”

  “I knew that one was coming.”

  “All I know is what I see in the movies. Was it more like Shawshank Redemption or Prison Break? Minus your attempt to break out. You didn’t ever try, did you?” she asked, determined to keep things light and to make him as comfortable as possible.

  “Not even close. It was...different. The first year was the hardest. My father had put away many of the criminals in there. Once they heard I was his son, well, that made me an easy target.” He rubbed his neck with his free hand.

  “Your scar?” She resisted the temptation to touch it and stayed resting against his shoulder.

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  Cameron wiggled his fingers free, and she thought he’d pull away. Instead, he drew her closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Needing to touch him, Hope reached for his hand and tangled her fingers with his.

  “Drew Tracker happened. He’d been infamous in the murder for hire world.”

  “There’s seriously a world of those guys?”

  “Unfortunately. And Drew was good. Or, rather, bad. When he heard I was Judge Smithfield’s son, he set me up. Had his people stash weapons in my cell before a search. The first year in I thought I was tough enough to take him on my own.” Cameron rolled his neck. “He and his thugs jumped me in the shower.”

  “Like in the movies?”

  “Kind of. I won’t bore you with the details.”

  “I like details.” She loosened her hand from his and curved her body into him. With her free hand, she worked at the buttons of his shirt. “Continue, please. Did you stay in the infirmary while Tracker got beat up by your people?”

  “I didn’t have people. I was a target, a risk. No one wanted anything to do with me.”

  Hope hugged him tighter, letting him know she wanted and cared for him, while her heart wept for the pain he’d endured.

  “When I got back to my cell, I kept to myself. Spent my days reading, studying. Went to lots of rehab sessions. Took some online classes. Got a few degrees.”

  “Tell me about rehab group. Was it like the movies?”

  “What is it with you and the movies?”

  “Sorry. I’m trying to make you laugh while learning about the dark past of yours. I can’t imagine what it was like for you.” She slipped out from under his arm and straddled his lap. “All those years behind bars.” She ran her hand across his fuzzy head and let her fingers play with the back of his neck, tracing her finger along his scar. “When it wasn’t even your fault.”

  “I had enough faults in my file to earn me a few years in prison.”

  “Not ten, though.”

  “And nearly two on probation. I would’ve come here sooner if I could have.”

  “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

  “I missed you.” Cameron’s eyes finally met hers. “Like crazy.”

  “I held on to tho
se memories. Of us.” Hope lowered herself into his lap, locking her knees at his hips. “Can we make some more memories? Tonight?”

  “We already have, beautiful.” Cameron’s hands slid up her back and cradled her head as he took her lips into his mouth.

  He was so gentle, so kind, so giving even in his kisses. Hope melted into him, his kisses clouding her brain, blocking out everything but the love she felt for him. “I think it’s time to take this off,” she murmured as she traced his lips with her tongue. “Both shirts.”

  She had already undone his buttons and helped him out of his nice shirt. She pulled away just enough to grip the bottom of his t-shirt and tug it up over his head. “So. Much. Better.”

  Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they slid across his smooth chest. He had a smattering of hair across his torso and a taunting line of it leading down to the button on his pants.

  “Fair is fair,” he said and in one quick yank her sweater was off, tossed over her head and across the living room before she realized what he’d done.

  “Wow. You’re good. I take it you didn’t learn that trick in the joint?”

  “No.” Cameron smirked. “I told you I read a lot.”

  “Oh? Steamy romances?” She ground her pelvis into his, feeling him grow longer and harder under her.

  “Maybe.” He enveloped her in his arms and tilted her until she lay on her back and his body covered hers.

  “I approve.” They kissed until they were breathless, her hands stroking and rubbing his chest and back, while he kept his respectfully on her back, with the occasional squeeze of her butt.

  But she wanted more. She jutted her chest out, rubbing her bra-covered breasts against his chest and wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing his groin closer to hers.

  “Hope.”

  “Yes. That’s me. Even if you were to call out another woman’s name I don’t think I could stop.” She didn’t know where the humor and sarcasm were coming from. Nerves, maybe. Good nerves.

  “I only have so much control.” He nuzzled her neck and then rolled them so she was on top, straddling him.

  “How much?”

  “Is this a test?”