To Hope Again: A Sweet Romance (Forty and Free Book 3)

by Lillianna Blake

  He walked back into the house and caught sight of Jillian’s headlights through the front window. His heart skipped. Would she be willing to speak to him? He thought about the bottle of wine she’d brought him. Maybe it was an excuse to start up a conversation.

  He grabbed the wine and stepped out through his front door.

  As she parked the car, he drew back into the shadows. He wasn’t sure if he was brave enough to actually apologize. Would she even allow him to apologize? He tightened his grasp on the bottle and thought about where things might go.

  Did he really want to strike up a conversation with her? It might encourage her to continue to try to connect with him. As curious a he was about her, he wasn’t sure if that was something that he wanted. Still, he found himself crossing the distance between his property and hers. He remained in the shadows, still uncertain of whether he would speak up or not.

  He expected her to walk up to her front door. When she, instead, began to walk around the side of the house toward the lake, he knew that he only had a short time to get her attention. He had to make a decision.

  Did he want her to continue to see him as nothing more than a monster, or did he want to take a chance that she might see him as something else?

  At the last second, he stepped forward.

  “Jillian.”

  Chapter 13

  “Just remain calm.” Jillian repeated the words to herself several times as she pulled her car up the driveway. She noticed that Mateo’s truck was right where he’d left it and wondered if that might be a sign that he hadn’t found his keys. Her body tensed at the idea.

  She parked in front of her house and braced herself for what might happen next. When she didn’t see Mateo anywhere around outside, she thought she might make it to the door of her house without interference.

  As quietly as possible, she opened her car door. She stepped out of the car. Again, she looked around for any sign of him. It was very quiet—too quiet. His music wasn’t playing. There weren’t any sounds of drills or hammers being used.

  A wave of disappointment washed over her. A part of her expected to see Mateo again—maybe even looked forward to seeing him again. She was curious about whether that pain she saw in his eyes was genuine, or just her own imagination trying to create something she could empathize with.

  So many thoughts running through her head meant she could use a trip down to the lake to sort them out. She started to walk around the side of the house.

  “Jillian.”

  His deep voice drew her attention and at the same time her survival instincts kicked in. One of the men she’d dated had been a martial arts instructor and he’d taught her several moves to protect herself. She shifted into a defensive stance as she turned to face the male voice.

  Through the shadows, she recognized Mateo’s frame.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He stepped further out into the moonlight.

  “You’re on my property.” She stared at him, still ready to attack. “What do you want?” Her heart raced. Was he there to threaten her? Did he get a restraining order? She had no idea what his intentions might be.

  He was silent for long enough that she thought he might turn around and leave without saying another word.

  “I want to apologize.” His voice was stiff. “I mean—I do apologize. I’m sorry about earlier.”

  She lowered her cocked fist and studied him. “You are?”

  “Yes. I should have just moved the truck.” He paused a moment.

  When he took a step closer to her she shied back a step.

  “I’m sorry if I scared you when I hit the truck. I wouldn’t ever hurt you. I don’t want you to think that you’re living next to some kind of psychopath.”

  “I don’t.” She bit into her bottom lip. “I hadn’t really thought about what you might be dealing with, Mateo. I should have recognized that you’re having a difficult time.”

  “That’s no excuse. I thought maybe we could have that glass of wine you offered? If that’s something that you’d like, I mean?” He lifted his eyes to hers.

  She noticed the bottle of wine in his grasp. Don’t do it, Jillian. Leave well enough alone. She ignored her own instructions and smiled.

  “Let me get the glasses. We can have a drink on the patio. The moon is beautiful tonight.”

  When she reached for the bottle of wine to open it, she noticed the bandages on his hands.

  “What happened?” She touched the loose bandage that covered his right hand.

  He tensed at the touch and met her eyes. “I found my keys.”

  Jillian immediately regretted throwing them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that something I did caused you to be in pain. Really, that isn’t like me. I don’t know what got into me.”

  “I should have moved the truck. You were right to be upset. Although what you did was more than a little surprising.”

  “It surprised me too.” She lowered her eyes. “It was shameful behavior.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “There was nothing shameful about it. It certainly got my attention.”

  “Let me fix these for you.” She touched his bandaged hand again, then looked up into his eyes.

  “It’s fine.” He started to draw back.

  “Please, Mateo. I know how much work you have to do. I can tighten these bandages enough so that you can still work.”

  He glanced back at his house, then looked at her. “Okay.”

  “Come inside.”

  It wasn’t until she slid the key into the lock that she realized what she was doing. Did she really want to invite Mateo inside? What if all this was just a ploy to make her vulnerable? The concern was founded, but she pushed it aside.

  She unlocked the door and pushed it open. As Mateo stepped past her, he seemed to be calmer, but was he really? He paused just inside the door as if he was hesitant to go any further.

  When she looked over her shoulder at him she could see fear in his expression.

  “It’s okay, you can come in.” She gestured toward the bathroom. “I have some fresh bandages and some special spray to take the sting out. I often tear up my hands while I’m gardening. You’d think one of these days I’d wear gloves, but I guess I just like the feel of the soil on my hands.”

  He smiled at her—in a way that she thought was impulsive and sweet. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.” He followed her toward the bathroom.

  Once they were inside the small space, Jillian become acutely aware of how close they were to one another. She reached into the medicine cabinet for the spray and bandages, which caused her arm to brush against his shoulder.

  He pulled back away from her enough to give her more space. “This really isn’t necessary. My hands are fine.”

  She took one of his hands in hers and pulled back the bandage. When she saw the jagged scratches she was surprised. She glanced up at him. “These are pretty deep.”

  He looked past her into the mirror and didn’t speak.

  “I’m sorry Mateo.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “This may sting at first.” She sprayed the scratches.

  He pulled back a little and grimaced.

  “It’ll feel better in just a second.” She trailed her thumb along his palm in a soothing motion.

  Chapter 14

  When Mateo felt the brush of Jillian’s thumb against his hand, his breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes and tried to be as still as possible. Could that jolt of electricity that carried through him really mean what he thought it meant? The very idea made his emotions churn.

  “I should go.”

  She kept his hand in hers. “It’s okay, Mateo. It’ll make me feel better if I know that the damage I caused is healing.” She sought his eyes.

  He refused to look in her direction. The intimacy of the close quarters made him feel like a giant beside her—an unpredictable, violent giant. How could she be willing to take such a risk and be near him after all the anger he�
�d directed toward her earlier?

  “It’s not your fault. I should have stopped what I was doing to take the time to put gloves on.”

  “But you didn’t.” Her voice was as soft as the bandage she’d begun to wrap around his hand. “Maybe because you thought you deserved to be in pain?”

  The question hung in the air between them. His chest tightened around the emotions that surged through him. He couldn’t speak.

  “It’s okay.” She began to bandage his other hand. “It’s easy to feel like you deserve to suffer if you’ve been through something traumatic. When my parents died in a car accident, I found a million ways to punish myself. I thought I should have known before they’d left the house that something bad was going to happen, that maybe I should have been with them that night, or I should have asked them to stay just five minutes longer.” She sighed as she sealed the bandage with tape. “Sometimes when things out of our control happen, the easiest thing to do is blame ourselves. It’s easier to believe that it’s our fault than to face the idea that bad things can just happen.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” He met her eyes then. She continued to hold his hand in hers and he didn’t pull away. “That must be a terrible thing to lose your parents that way.”

  “It was.” She drew a deep breath. “But it wasn’t my fault. Just like whatever you think you did, likely wasn’t your fault.”

  “It was.” He lowered his eyes. “I’m not sure how or why, but I know that it was.”

  “Why don’t we get this wine open and talk about it?”

  He waited for the moment when she’d realize that she was still holding his hand. Surely she would break the connection. Instead, even as he turned to step out of the bathroom, Jillian still held his hand. It wasn’t until she reached the patio door that she let go.

  “Go on out. I’ll get us some glasses and meet you there.”

  He held her gaze for a moment. His mind filled with things that he thought he should tell her. Yes, I destroyed my marriage. No, I don’t want to talk about it. How can you be so nice to me? But instead of speaking, he did as she asked and stepped out onto the patio.

  The cool night air sent a chill along his spine. The memory of her hand wrapped around his warmed him once more. He sat down in one of the chairs and waited.

  A moment later Jillian emerged with two full glasses of wine. “Here you go.” She handed him one.

  He took it, noticing that the bandage around his hand was much more secure than it had been before she’d fixed it for him.

  “Why are you doing this, Jillian?”

  “Doing what?” She sat down across from him with her own glass of wine.

  “Being so nice?” He frowned.

  “Do you think there’s a catch?” She grinned at him. “That I’m running some kind of con on you?”

  “I think that you have a right to never speak to me again, and I’m just wondering why you’re even talking to me.” He held up one of his hands. “Why you’d do this for me?”

  “Mateo, we got off on the wrong foot. I know that. I’m not one to judge a man during his darkest hour. I’ve done some pretty terrible things in my hardest moments.” She tilted her head to the side. “I imagine that whatever you’re going through is what’s driving all this anger in you. So what is it?”

  He looked away from her again and took a sip of his wine. “I don’t really talk about things like that.”

  She took a drink of her wine. “Give it up. I’m not going to leave you alone until you do.” She smiled and he knew that she was teasing.

  He shot a heated look in her direction, but his anger faded. “A bad divorce.”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “I’ve counseled many people dealing with that.”

  “You’re a counselor?”

  “A life coach.” She shrugged. “Not quite the same thing, but trust me, there’s a lot of venting and healing involved. Why don’t you tell me about your wife?”

  “She’s not my wife. Not any more. I don’t need you to coach me.” He gripped his wineglass as tension flooded him. “It’s over.”

  “Maybe for her, but clearly not for you.” Jillian hid her face by taking a long drink of her wine.

  When she set the glass back down again he stared at her. “It’s over for me.”

  “Romantically perhaps, but relationships are far more than that. Your frustration, your heartbreak, your grief—that is all part of the healing process.”

  “Please, don’t.” He frowned. “I don’t want to be analyzed.”

  “Sorry. Force of habit. You’re absolutely right. This is a glass of wine between neighbors.” She held up her glass. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Mateo.”

  He raised his glass and clinked it against hers. “Thank you, Jillian.” He regarded her for a long moment. “You live alone?”

  “Yes.” She smiled a little. “For the moment.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’re in the market for a roommate?”

  “My ex-boyfriend moved out a few months ago. I imagine eventually someone else might move in.”

  “Really?” He tilted his head to the side. “Why a boyfriend and not a husband?”

  “Now who’s analyzing?” She laughed.

  “Sorry.” He swallowed the last of his wine. “It just seems odd to me that you’re alone.”

  “I guess I don’t really see it as being alone. I enjoy my life as it is, and if someone comes along who I enjoy spending time with, I follow that desire.” She twirled her wineglass between her fingers. “No stress, no harm.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “My entire marriage was stress, and trust me, there is plenty of harm.”

  “Sometimes we end up with the wrong person. That shouldn’t stop you from moving forward and looking forward to a new mate.”

  “In fact it should.” He pushed his glass back toward her as he stood up. “I will never, ever, be making that mistake again. Thanks for the help and the wine. I’ll try to start work after ten tomorrow. Will that give you enough time in the morning?”

  “More than enough.” She looked into his eyes. “You don’t have to go, Mateo.”

  “Yes, actually I do.” His gaze lingered on her. The moonlight gave her an ethereal glow. His heart raced as he recalled her touch. Despite his determination to keep his distance, he had the distinct and nearly irresistible desire to kiss her.

  Chapter 15

  It crossed Jillian’s mind that she might have pushed Mateo a little too far. The way he retreated from the table indicated fear to her. But why would he be afraid of her? Maybe she touched on subjects that he didn’t want to talk about?

  She sat back in her chair as she watched him walk away. It was strange to her that yet again she felt a sense of disappointment at his absence. He interested her. Why, she couldn’t be sure.

  As she stood up from the table and collected the wineglasses she wondered how Angela’s date had gone. She decided that the best way to distract herself from the subtle urge that she was feeling within her was to involve herself in her client’s issues.

  Once inside the house, she logged onto Forty and Free. Right away she noticed a message from Angela. She was requesting a phone call.

  Jillian settled on her sofa with her phone.

  Angela answered on the first ring. “Hello? Jillian?”

  “Yes. How’d it go?”

  “I can’t do this any more, Jillian. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I just can’t do romance.”

  “Take a deep breath, Angela. Sometimes things can seem devastating at first, but when you calm down and talk through them, it’s not so bad.”

  “How about the fact that I threw a drink in his face?”

  “What?” Jillian’s mouth dropped open. “Why?”

  “We got into a conversation about politics and one thing led to another—”

  “Angela. What is the first rule of dinner conversation?”

  “No hot topics. But in my defense, he started it.”

&n
bsp; “I’ve given you ways to avoid the conversation.”

  “I know. But he was just so arrogant and not very well-informed.”

  “So he was not the right match for you.” Jillian smiled a little as she thought of the woman tossing the drink. “That’s no reason to give up.”

  “None of them are the right fit, Jillian. I’ve been on this dating app for a long time and I’ve not met a single man that I want a second date with. It’s exhausting, and frustrating, and I don’t feel like I’m getting any benefit from it. Why can’t I just be single and move on with my life?”

  “You absolutely could do that, if that’s what you really want. But I don’t think that’s what you really want.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It would be better to be alone than to face another one of these tedious experiences. Look, the truth is, if there’s any chance that I would actually want to be with another man, he’d have to be incredible. Let’s face it, I’m not the type of woman that an incredible man falls in love with.”

  “I don’t agree with that. I think you just need to keep trying. Your incredible man is going to show his face eventually. When he does, all of this will have been worth it.”

  “Or maybe he’ll just break my heart.”

  “Not if he’s the right one.” Jillian sat down on the couch and gazed at the empty fireplace. “If he’s the right one, he’ll ignite a fire within you that will never go out.”

  “I’m not sure I believe in there being one right one. I just don’t know any more. I think I might need a break.”

  “A break might be a good idea. Maybe instead of scheduling a date for next week, you could plan to go out somewhere—like an open mic night or a local event—something that will expose you to your community.”

  “I’ll think about it. Thanks for listening.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Jillian hung up the phone and chewed on her lip. No matter how hard she tried with Angela, she couldn’t seem to get through to her to just relax and let things flow. It plucked at her nerves that the woman couldn’t see how amazing she was—how deserving of love she was. But why did it bother Jillian so much?