Follow Me Back

by A. L. Jackson

  Maybe that was part of the problem.

  “I don’t get simple,” was my response.

  “What if he doesn’t want simple?”

  I would have answered her, told her that in the end, everyone did. They always took the easy way out when the going got tough. Except the café phone rang. I moved for it, thankful for the distraction, something to keep my feet from rounding the counter and running after him.

  Because what the hell would that accomplish?

  I lifted the receiver from the wall and pressed it to my ear. “A Drop of Hope. How can I help you?”

  “Go out with me.” His gravelly voice echoed through the line.

  A surprised sound whispered from my lips, and Kale was suddenly at the window, his face pressed to the glass, hand shading his eyes so he could see inside. His other hand was holding his cell to his ear. “Go out with me, Hope. Just dinner. Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. Couldn’t after I saw you the first time at Olive’s on Friday night. It only got worse after I saw you here Monday morning. I don’t know what it is about you . . . but there’s something that makes me want to figure it out.”

  My breaths were hard pants, my heart a jackhammer in my chest. “My life’s complicated, Kale.”

  “And I’m offering you a night away from it. Don’t you at least deserve that?”

  I wanted to beg him, what then? What happened if I fell for that smirk and that smile and those tender eyes?

  Fast and hard?

  I could already feel myself slipping. My heart tipping his direction.

  What happened if Dane found out?

  What then?

  But I was so tired of that man controlling every aspect of my life, even after I’d made the decision to cut him from it.

  Jenna was suddenly in my face, gripping my wrist, her voice a hard, demanding whisper. “You tell him yes, Harley Hope. Don’t you dare hang up that phone without telling him yes. You deserve something just for you. Just for you.”

  Indecision swarmed, questions and worries and want.

  But it was the feeling balled in my stomach that trembled the floor beneath my feet.

  The urge to reach out and touch on the beauty and tenderness that swam in his eyes. To discover if it was real.

  The throb of desire that begged, a whisper in my ear that goaded—just one touch.

  The hidden need to feel those hands skating my flesh.

  I guessed I’d thought I’d never crave that again, my life fulfilled, my spirit content in knowing I was living for what was right.

  Jenna squeezed tighter, my bossy best friend mouthing the word as she angled her head with the demand. “Say yes.”

  It was at the same second Kale fisted his hand against the window, his forehead rocking against it, his own words a petition. “Come on, Hope. Say yes. I promise you, you won’t regret it.”

  A hint of playfulness came out on the last, but it didn’t matter, because I was agreeing.

  “Yes,” I murmured, wanting to feel something good even though I wasn’t so much a fool that I didn’t know I was making a mistake. That in the end, it wouldn’t hurt.

  Because it already felt as if this mattered.

  As if he mattered.

  “Okay. One night. Just dinner,” I reiterated.

  He breathed out in what sounded like relief. “Just dinner.”

  8

  Kale

  I fumbled for my phone when it dinged in my pocket. “Shit,” I muttered when the damn thing nearly slipped from my hand.

  Didn’t help that I was all kinds of overeager and terrified like some kind of pathetic fucker begging for a bone.

  That was what I’d become.

  Pathetic.

  Because my stomach was tied up in knots, anxiety lining my insides, nerves rattling through me like an earthquake that hit from out of nowhere in the middle of the night.

  The last two days had been spent wondering what in the hell it was I thought I was doing.

  What I thought I expected to pull off here.

  I was so far out of bounds that I had not a single clue where I stood.

  Standing around, waiting on a girl.

  Wanting her.

  Both her sweet little body and her sweet little mind, wondering what it was that made her reserved and shut off and shy.

  What ignited that fire that so clearly burned underneath.

  What brought the flush riding to her cheeks.

  Why those places that had gone dormant inside me found it fit to light up when we got in the same room.

  It fucking terrified me that they did. That I felt something I was sure had died with her. Something that had been obliterated into nonexistence that suddenly had a flicker of a heartbeat again.

  Was it worth it?

  I sucked in a breath. I didn’t fucking know. But there I stood anyway, waiting, praying that she showed.

  The guys were going to have a field day if they found out where I was tonight.

  On a motherfucking date.

  It wasn’t even as a consequence of Nikki drinking my ass under the table.

  No bets or wagers other than the one I’d lobbied against myself.

  I mean, I’d made it all the way out the door of A Drop of Hope without letting the words that had been begging on my tongue free.

  All the way out the damned door.

  All I’d had to do was get in my car, drive away, and never look back.

  Then, like a fool, I’d looked up the café on my phone.

  Brilliant, right?

  Taking the pussy’s way out. The whole time I’d been muttering a million warnings under my breath. None of which had been heeded. I’d just gone right on ahead and pressed send.

  Guessed maybe my subconscious had gone for the call since I couldn’t take another rejection delivered to my face.

  This girl had shot me down at every turn, and each time, I got up for another round. Something feeling like maybe she needed me to fight for her.

  Like I said.

  Pathetic.

  Guts in knots, I read the message.

  Hope: Sorry, I got hung up. I’m on my way. Be there in five.

  I breathed out in relief.

  I’d been doing my best not to lose my cool where I stood outside the chic restaurant on the sidewalk on Macaber. The street was all lit up on a Friday night, people coming and going, their laughter rippling through the warm Alabama air.

  Waiting.

  She’d insisted on taking an Uber and meeting me here. That this was just dinner. Nothing more.

  Ironic.

  Considering all I wanted was more.

  I tapped out a quick reply.

  Me: No worries. I just got here.

  What bullshit. I’d been here for fifteen minutes.

  This girl had me feeling outside myself.

  Interested and intrigued.

  Wanting to fist my hands in that lush, red hair, sure it’d be as soft as it looked.

  Wondering if she tasted like strawberries and cream and all things sweet, the way I’d put down bets that she did.

  Shortcake.

  Couldn’t help but imagine her in the shadows of my room. Wild. That sexy modesty evaporated as she begged my name.

  The craziest part was I thought I might just settle for seeing that shy smile light her face.

  I drove all my fingers into my hair.

  Fuck.

  She really had gotten under my skin.

  Five minutes later, a black car pulled to the curb. I didn’t know what it was, but the way my heart thundered and boomed, sped with an unsteady beat, told me it was her before the car came to a full stop.

  I pasted on a confident smile, strolled that way with a hand in my pocket, and opened the back door to help her out.

  I dipped down, and I swore my thundering heart came to a full stop in my chest.

  On all things holy.

  What the hell did she think she was doing to me?

  My head spun with a
rush of uncontained lust.

  Fast and hot and hard.

  Sloshing through my blood like an out-of-control demand.

  Those knots in my stomach notched tighter, a constricting band around my chest, the easy air suddenly thick.

  Heady.

  Rippling with need.

  That dress.

  She was wearing this black dress that was super short, the backseat full of nothing but silky, toned legs. My throat went dry when I noticed the pair of black heels wrapped around her ankles.

  So damned high.

  So fucking hot.

  Who was this girl? Because she was peeking out at me, biting back a smile that danced between shy and seductive when I reached down and offered her my hand.

  A streak of lightning bolted up my arm when she accepted it.

  Motherfucker.

  What was happening to me?

  She shifted to slide out, that fall of red cascading down around one shoulder.

  I somehow managed to shoot her a grin as I tugged her toward me.

  She stumbled to a stop two inches away. A gush of surprise heaved from her lungs, our bodies close to touching, the space between crackling, no doubt two seconds from catching fire.

  Clearly, she wasn’t anticipating me being so forward.

  But if this was the only night she was giving me, I was going to make it count.

  Those green eyes blinked up at me. I swore they were the same color as the moss that lined the bank of the river, deep and brimming with life.

  “Hi,” I told her, a smirk flitting across my mouth.

  “Hi,” she whispered back between her plush lips that were coated in only shiny gloss. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

  For a beat, she took in our surroundings as if she was looking for someone, but then she finally turned back to face me. Her expression now held something that almost looked like worry or fear that threatened to break loose. She beat it back—buried it—and smiled at me in a way that moved through me like warmth.

  “I really am sorry I’m late,” she said again.

  I kept her fingertips threaded with mine, unwilling to give up the connection, having the urge to tell her to trust me. That whatever the fuck was going on, she could trust me.

  But I didn’t know how to make that promise, so I tucked it all down and focused on the kind of night I had promised her.

  One that was only about her. Making her feel good.

  “It’s fine.” I arched a brow, sending her a look that told her how bad I was dying to eat her up. “Though, I thought I was going to have to track you down because you were going to bail on me. I don’t think my fragile ego could take it.”

  A bit of that fire lit on her face.

  God.

  I liked that, too.

  The feisty redhead ready to spar.

  “You were going to track me down, huh? Tell me you aren’t really stalking me.” Her voice had dropped an octave, dripping with excitement and nervousness, the words a low, throaty tease.

  “Is it working?”

  She chewed at her bottom lip, and it took about all I had not to reach out and brush back the lock of hair that swooped across her forehead, obscuring one of her eyes. “I’m here, aren’t I? Against my better judgment.”

  “Why’s that?” I played it off as unimportant. Like I wasn’t wanting to dig deeper into her. To discover all those things I couldn’t get off my mind.

  The low laughter that rolled from her was completely at her expense. “I already told you my life is complicated . . . hence my being late.”

  “Are you going to tell me about that?”

  For a flash, her gaze went to the far side of the street, her profile soft beneath the glow of the strands of lights strung up overhead. Face innocent while her body looked like nothing but sin wrapped in this slinky black dress.

  She was a walking contradiction.

  The perfect kind of fantasy.

  Sexy and soft.

  Hot and sweet.

  She looked back at me with a silent plea riding her expression. “Do you remember what you asked me? You asked me for one night. And this night is for me.”

  She swallowed and averted her gaze again, like she was gathering her thoughts, and then she set the power of those green eyes back on me. “So, no, I’m not. I just . . . want to enjoy myself and not think about anything else except for the fact I’m out with a man. A man I can’t help but want to spend more time with. That, for one night, I get to experience it. Can we do that?”

  Unable to stop myself, I reached out and ran the pad of my thumb across her chin, right over the cute little dimple I kind of wanted to lick.

  She shivered at my touch.

  “Yeah, Shortcake, we can definitely do that.” A smirk kicked up at the corner of my mouth. “You want a good time? Then I promise to show you a good time.”

  There was almost a warning behind it. The caution that my body was already way ahead of us.

  Imagining her against the wall, that short, short skirt hiked around her hips.

  Back at my loft, the girl writhing on my bed.

  Or maybe it was just a promise.

  She must have seen every single salacious thought play out in my eyes. Because she chuckled this sound that shot straight to my dick, a hand flattening on my chest. “Oh, back it up, Cowboy. We aren’t gonna be having that good of a time.”

  Grabbing that hand, I kissed across her knuckles. “Are you sure about that? And cowboy?” My brow arched. “Come on now, do I look like a cowboy to you?”

  She laughed a little deeper, her expression going light, sparking with the freedom of the moment. “Mm-hmm . . . I am most definitely certain of that.”

  Her tongue darted out to lick across those glossy lips, the girl cocking her head with a type of mischief I hadn’t recognized in her before.

  Lust knotted my insides.

  “Such a bad boy. I knew it back at the bar, the trouble written all over you. And don’t you know all boys from Alabama are cowboys at heart? You can dress yourself up like a city boy, but it doesn’t change a thing.”

  A chuckle rippled free. “Actually, I was thinking more like knight in shining armor . . . you know, since I am rescuing you tonight.”

  “Thinking awfully highly of yourself, are you?”

  I guided her into the restaurant ahead of me, mouth dipping down to brush across the shell of her ear as she walked through the door. “Hell yeah. As long as that means I get to make you my princess.”

  She glanced at me from over her shoulder as we stepped into the restaurant. “My hero.”

  She delivered it with a tone of flirtatious sarcasm.

  Having no clue that statement sliced through me.

  A double-edged sword.

  Did my best not to reveal the cringe that jolted through me and told myself I wasn’t going there tonight.

  Because if this was the only one we had, I was going to make it count.

  9

  Hope

  Chills skated my spine, and I shivered with the slow release of his breath that washed across my jaw when he leaned in.

  The heat of him took me whole.

  Overpowering.

  Too much and somehow not nearly enough.

  “How was your dinner?” he asked.

  The man was conflict.

  Persuasion and dominance and sex.

  Kind and perceptive and intuitive.

  I didn’t know what side of him was more dangerous. The only thing I knew was I could barely breathe when he set one of those big hands on my knee underneath the table.

  All night, he’d been touching me. Just tiny brushes and caresses.

  Flutters of fingertips that sped my heart in a needy kind of anticipation.

  It was as if he were issuing little promises—assuring me I was interesting and beautiful and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

  I took a sip of red wine, still unable to fathom I was actually sitting across from this man. “It was wonderful.
I think I’ve had more fun tonight than I have in a long, long time. I wish I could tell you how much that means to me.”

  His brow quirked. “Says the girl who basically made me beg to get a little bit of time with her.”

  Thank God it was dim where we were seated at the back of the upscale restaurant. Because I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks. The way he managed to slip right under my skin with that easy smile, the man nothing but seduction where he casually rested in the high-backed upholstered chair.

  One big hand was wrapped around the crystal tumbler he’d been sipping from all evening, the other still caressing my knee.

  Back and forth.

  Back and forth.

  Embers flickering to life in the deepest parts of me.

  I wondered if he had the first clue each stroke wound me higher. Higher and higher until it felt as if I was floating with the stars. Or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing.

  “I guess sometimes we all need a little push,” I admitted quietly.

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Well, I guess it should be me saying thank you for giving you that little push.”

  I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to figure out what to do with the magnitude of this man. “I’m just glad you were the one to do it.”

  He sat back a little, head tilting to the side as he offered a casual expression. “What about last Friday? It seems like your friends don’t hesitate to have a little fun.”

  I laughed lightly. “No, they definitely don’t. Jenna is always trying to drag me out.”

  “Why don’t you let her?”

  It was the first time Kale had let our conversation traipse in the direction of personal. His eyes narrowed, studying me with a new kind of severity through the flicker of the candles that lapped and licked at the center of the table.

  It cast that strong jaw in shadows, that turquoise gaze glinting in the flame.

  During dinner, we’d kept to safe subjects. Reminiscing about growing up. My life in Texas. His in Gingham Lakes. I told him how I’d been a total drama geek in high school, living my life for the next play, while he’d laughed the sweetest kind of laugh and told me nerds were always the best before he’d gone on to tell me he’d won first place in the Alabama State Science Fair all four years of high school.