by Vivian Arend
Hope brushed her teeth and rushed through her final routine. All the while banging noises came from behind the guest room door, and she hoped her sister was being reasonable and packing.
She knocked then spoke before Helen could answer. “I’m off to work. Call me when you get settled.”
There was no response, and she walked away, hoping that would be the last of the troubles. It was unlikely, but hey, her biggest coping strategy up to now had been to concentrate on the positive.
Yeah, the blue jay of happiness was sitting on her shoulder. A little battered and bruised, with a few loose feathers maybe, but still singing. Hope hugged Jaxi one last time and escaped downstairs into the warmth of the shop, where quilts for families and homemade signs with heartfelt statements like Love Lives Here surrounded her.
The irony made her smile and ache at the same time.
Matt hauled out his cell phone and answered on the second ring. “Everything okay?”
Jaxi snorted. “Hello to you too. Yes, Helen is out and the locks on the shop and the apartment have already been switched—Hope called the locksmiths the minute their shop opened.”
“I talked to her a few minutes ago and she mentioned that. I’m asking if you had any troubles with Helen.”
“Ha.” The volume of expression in the short word made Matt laugh in spite of his concerns. Jaxi cleared her throat. “No, Helen didn’t really try, although the comments about ‘you teenage Coleman bitch’ would have been funnier if I could have planted my boot on her ass when she headed out the door.”
“You didn’t.”
“Nope, I was amazingly reserved. Only showed my teeth for a second. The woman eventually figured out it was time to shut up. About five minutes later than she should have, but it’s not as if I’m going to melt from a few cuss words being tossed my direction.”
“Damn. I should have—”
Jaxi cut him off. “No, you were right to call me. Hope got the shop open in time, and it could have been far worse if you had been the one there. Hell, who knows? She might have even done something stupid like accuse you of attacking her or…something insane.”
“How’s Hope really doing? She called me, but she sounded so tense—I’m not sure what’s going on with her.”
Jaxi hummed. “I saw her before I left. She’s upset, but okay. There were customers in the shop so we couldn’t talk. But, Matt…”
He pulled in next to the barn. The day loomed long and monotonous ahead of him with everything that had to be done when what he really wanted was to head over to the shop to see for himself Hope was okay. “What kind of advice you hesitating over giving me now, Dr. Phil?”
“Do I really have that reputation?”
“From what I hear, you’re cuter than him, but you know damn well you boss us all around, especially since you and Blake got married. So spill.”
“Fine. It’s possible this entire storm can smooth over in no time flat. I mean I wasn’t happy about being insulted, but it’s only words. They only have power if I let them. If Helen has moved back, so what? She knows now that Hope isn’t going to cave instantly in to her demands. If Helen gets a place to stay, finds a job…she’s just another person in town. Unless we give her the power to upset us. Right?”
Which was pretty much what Matt had concluded the previous night. “If all she does is live in town and act like anyone else who’s sort of known to the family, then yeah. You’re right. But if she tries anything to hurt Hope, then she’s out of line.”
“Agreed. But can we hope for the best? The woman isn’t stupid. I know she hurt you bad, and part of me hates her guts for that, but it’s time to move on.”
Matt stared out at the snow. The ice and cold that had wrapped around him for so long after Helen had left—he’d been free of it for just a little while.
Because of Hope’s warmth.
“Not what I expected to hear from you, Jaxi. I thought for sure you’d be heating pitch to tar and feather Helen before running her out of town.”
“The thought crossed my mind, believe me. Maybe I’ve gone soft after having the babies, but there are more important things to do than waste time on revenge. Happy things like kissing toes and cuddling and—”
Matt laughed out loud. “My images of those things and yours aren’t the same, I’m thinking.”
She blew a raspberry. “Dirty Coleman mind. So, anyway. I’m saying let’s see what Helen does before declaring war. If she behaves, we can spend our time on the things that matter.”
“Hope is one of those things.”
“Right. I think she’ll call you if she needs anything. Could be she’s a bit embarrassed. Since you’re going over tonight that should be soon enough to reassure her she’s got people who care about her, even if she feels awkward. Hope’s one of the most stubborn people I know when it comes to accepting help.”
Matt groaned in frustration. “Yeah, I gotta get back to work if I’m going to get done on time. Thanks, Jaxi. For everything.”
The sound of a kiss being blown hit his ear, then she hung up.
He headed into the barn and the dirty work of the day a whole lot more relaxed than he thought possible. But his plans for the night? He revamped what he’d had on the agenda. After the shock of her sister’s arrival, Hope needed a different kind of care than to be ordered around like some sort of sex slave.
Although he was sure they would get back to that scenario another time.
17
Fortunately, there was enough business to keep her distracted all day long. After Jaxi had given the all clear on her sister’s departure from the apartment, Helen hadn’t shown her face in the shop even once.
The smooth resolution to the situation was almost anticlimactic. Hope had envisioned all kinds of shouting and tossing of breakable things. It was evil, but the idea of calling the police and getting Helen’s ass hauled down to the cop shop had played out in her brain as far too attractive a scenario.
Hope pressed her palms over her eyes and exhaled her frustrations. All the relaxation therapy she’d learned over the past year was sorely needed right now, because that vindictive thought wasn’t her style. The revengeful bitch-woman who wished her sister would just disappear and never be seen again—was someone else. That woman was the result of too much stress and too many hard moments caused by Helen’s actions.
Still, Hope had to congratulate herself. She’d dealt with the pain and anger. Pushed through the rough times and moved on. Another couple deep breaths later she was ready to head upstairs. She needed a shower and some chocolate.
She turned off the shop lights and armed the security system, then paced up the inside stairs to her apartment. Hiding out sounded like a marvelous idea.
Only—she wanted to see Matt more than she wanted to be alone.
Upstairs, with the door bolted shut, she looked around the apartment with new eyes. What had Helen seen, walking in after a year of being gone? Something she liked? Something she decided she wanted after all?
The phone rang and she checked the call display cautiously, happy to discover Matt’s name and not her sister’s.
“I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes, and I’ve ordered supper to be delivered then as well. Sound okay?”
God, yes. “Wonderful. I need some downtime. Don’t know how good company I’m going to be.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to entertain me. Just let me come and give you a little caring.”
It sounded far better than it should. She was supposed to be a strong, independent woman, but tonight? She’d take all the coddling he was willing to give.
Hope turned the shower as hot as she could stand it. Matt’s comment regarding finding Helen in the tub flashed to mind. She grabbed cleanser and scrubbed the entire thing so that all that was possibly left was the smell of disinfectant slowly covered by the scent of her shampoo and the candles she’d lit everywhere.
It was a silly response, but she felt much better after finishing
. Like she’d washed away a bit more of the heaviness that had descended upon setting eyes on her sister.
It only took a minute to tidy the bathroom. Far less time than standing in front of her dresser and deciding what to pull on for the evening.
Screw it. She picked her most comfortable pyjamas, which were flannel, faded and made her feel about twelve years old. Matt was going to get her as she was, in spite of what Helen liked to wear.
He hadn’t mentioned what he’d ordered for dinner, so she pulled out a couple plates then poured herself a glass of juice, crawled onto the couch and tucked herself in with one of the quilts draped within easy reach.
No music. No television as white noise.
Just silence.
There was a faint rumble of sound from the street, but nothing too jarring. She took in the peace and attempted to spread it through every bit of herself.
Calmness.
Quiet.
The heat of the quilt slowly soaking in.
Her plan worked so well that by the time Matt knocked and she rose to let him in, she felt far looser and relaxed than she thought possible.
His gaze darted over her outfit as he held forward a case of beer. “You look comfy. Should have told me we were having a pyjama party.”
“You’re always welcome to wear whatever you want in my place. There was no way I was going to dress up tonight. Sorry.”
“Trust me, I’m not complaining.” He tilted his head toward the door. “The delivery car pulled in just behind me. Let me grab the food and we’ll get cozy.”
“You want a drink?”
He nodded then slipped outside. Hope wandered into the kitchen and found room in the fridge for his beer, opening one and setting it on the table. The scent of Chinese food wafted in with him, the door clicking tight at his back, and she hurried to grab the paper bags from him.
“Holy cow, who else is joining us?” There was enough to feed far more than two people, even hungry ones.
Matt squirmed but kept unpacking the silver-lidded containers onto the tabletop. “I didn’t want to bother you and check what you wanted. But then I realized I had no idea what you liked or disliked, so I got a whole bunch of stuff. I figured anything you hate I can take home. Everything else? Dig in.”
Hope caught him by the arm. “Thank you, but before we load our plates, you forgot one thing.”
His confused expression made her smile. She’d been waiting all day for this. Actually, she’d been waiting all night as well. A light tug brought their bodies into contact and his eyes lit up.
The kiss was better than any appetizer she remembered. Matt held her an extra moment after their lips parted, his strong fingers caressing her neck. “You okay?”
The soft-spoken question carried a ton of meaning. If anyone understood the frustrations she’d experienced over the past day? He did.
She nodded. “I’m glad you’re here tonight. And sending over Jaxi this morning? Brilliant. I should have thought of it.”
“That’s why being friends is a good thing. You don’t have to think of everything on your own.” He tweaked her nose then grabbed a plate and passed it to her. Matt glanced around. “You want to eat at the table?”
“You don’t mind us being terribly antisocial and watching some television while we eat?”
He shook his head. “As long as I get to sit next to you, I’m good.”
They got settled on the couch, plates loaded with food. Matt handed her the control and she laughed.
“The ultimate example of self-sacrifice.”
“I will steal it back if you turn to one of those ‘what not to wear’ shows.”
Hope found some CSI reruns and snuggled tight against him, their legs stretched side by side, feet on the coffee table, with quilts draped over their laps and around their shoulders. Matt got up and refilled his plate, and her juice glass, but for the next couple of hours all they did was eat and watch TV. When the food was gone, they just cuddled and vegetated.
Her head rested on his chest, her eyes almost closed. Their plates were pushed to the side, and Matt was as good as holding her up, his strong arm cradling her.
The sigh of contentment that slipped out wasn’t anything but heartfelt.
“That sounds as if you’re feeling better.”
Hope groaned as she rearranged her limbs to sit more vertically. “Better, but stuffed. Man, you outdid yourself with the food.”
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll go pop the leftovers in the fridge. You stay and relax.”
She was going to protest, but the determined expression on his face changed her mind. “There are plastic containers in the middle drawer if you need any.”
He moved easily in the small space, loading cartons into the fridge and even wiping the table off before coming back to grab their dirty plates.
Hope pulled herself to her feet to work beside him. “There’s room in the dishwasher.”
The situation was comfortable. Easy. Another sensation rose as they bumped hips and shared the dishtowel. The third time he cornered her by the fridge she realized it was deliberate, the press of his hips against hers. The graze of their bodies together.
“You looking for a bigger kitchen, Matt?”
“Hmm, nope. This one is the perfect size.”
She was in the middle of rinsing her glass when he moved behind her, muscular forearms framed in her peripheral vision as his arms surrounded her. Matt leaned forward and breathed deep from beside her neck, his whiskers tickling her bare skin, and she shivered.
His dark chuckle made it clear he knew why.
“You spending the night?” She barely got the words out. He’d pressed his lips to the sensitive spot he’d scraped and was sucking lightly, causing all kinds of interesting reactions inside her.
His tongue rasped over the same spot. A line of tiny bites followed all the way to her earlobe. She wasn’t sure what he would do next, but one thing was certain, watching television had lost all its charm.
“I planned on staying. So if you want me, you need to put down the glass before you drop it.”
Hope lowered the goblet with shaky fingers, the base rattling on the counter for a second before she steadied it. Did she want him? Here? Now?
Oh yes. Oh hell, yes.
She twisted in his arms, and his plan of going slow and being gentle vanished like the bubbles disappearing from the dishwater. Hope stared into his eyes, lashes fluttering for a moment before she lowered her chin and melted against him.
He caught her up, one arm scooped under her knees, cradling her against his chest as he took them straight back to her room. All the frustrations, all the aching tension between them—there would be time for a slow seduction later. Right now he felt the urge to distract them both, and the hotter and dirtier, the better.
Mat lowered her to the bed then closed the door.
Hope laughed. “You worried about someone dropping in?”
“Nope.” He stared at the full-length mirror on the back of the door, mind racing through the possibilities it presented, before turning toward her. “Strip.”
No hesitation. She reached for her top and peeled it upward. Her naked breasts appeared, the firm rounds bouncing at him as she arched her back and shuffled off her flannel bottoms.
Less than ten seconds. Long enough for his cock to go from hard to an iron spike. He stripped, his clothes discarded in a pile on top of the dark blue fabric of her pyjamas.
Nothing between them. Nothing but too damn much air.
“Kneel for me. Right in the center of the bed.”
Hope tore her gaze off his body, the lust on her face switching to curiosity. Was she wondering what he’d do next? He wouldn’t keep her guessing for very long. She obeyed his command, her knees spread wide as she found a balanced position. He stared, impressed that heat radiating off her could be felt where he stood two feet away.
“Turn around.”
A whimper of need escaped her li
ps, the bed rocking as her knees dipped into the mattress. He waited until she faced the headboard, then spoke again, the words rasping out.
“Don’t move.”
Matt knelt behind her, nudging her knees farther apart. He pressed their bodies together and nipped her shoulder as he dragged his hands over her naked skin. One hand he slid up to cup her breast. One snuck downward until his fingertips skimmed her slit.
“Damn, you’re wet.”
“You do that to me.” There was a purr of contentment in her voice, and he grinned like a fool.
“It ain’t the only thing I plan on doing to you.” He flicked her clit and she moaned.
Matt pressed one finger deep into her pussy and her hips rocked urgently against his hand.
Hope laid her head on his shoulder as he worked her, fingers rolling her nipple. Two fingers thrust in and out of her body, the heel of his hand pressed hard to her clit. She puffed air rapidly, crying out long and low when she came, body squeezing tight around him.
He released her and dropped to his back, pulling her hips down. He centered her pussy over his mouth and licked the moisture escaping. Hope tried to wiggle away, but he held her tight to his lips, using his tongue to explore all the folds of her pussy. She tried to escape again and this time he nipped the inside of her thigh.
Hope yipped in response, squirming hard.
“Stay in one place. I ain’t done with you.” He clutched her ass cheeks and dove back in. Assaulting her sensitive clit, lapping along all her most responsive spots until she shook, calling out his name.
Then she was flat on her back and he was over her. Matt grabbed her ankles and draped her legs over his shoulders, exposing her core completely. He stroked downward, starting at her belly, two fingers gliding past her sex and pausing over the pucker between her ass cheeks.
“You drive me crazy. You taste fucking marvelous, but now all I can think about is taking you hard. Your pussy, your ass. I’m going to fuck you there sometime, you know. Drive into you again and again until you’re screaming.”
Her response—was that a whimper? A plea? He recognized the sound as needy though, and definitely not a denial of his suggestions. But he didn’t have the energy to wait and get her ready for that kind of possession right now. Today the longest he could stand to wait was to line up his cock and thrust home in one shot.
