Hope Breaks: A New Adult Romantic Comedy

by Alice Bello

And why? Because I knew better. Time and experience had taught me some hard, brutal lessons, and not one of them had ended well.

  Life was hard, and you couldn’t really trust anyone—especially not a man.

  The scar on my hand itched and burned. I took a deep breath and tamped down the small firebomb that had erupted in my core. I needed to get the man out of my house; that was the only sane thing I could do.

  I took another savage bite of my pizza, but it was nearly tasteless now. Those molecules that were on fire moments ago were now tight and cold, shivering in the looming memories of things gone terribly wrong.

  I refused to look at them. They were the past, and needed to stay that way. But I would be fool not to remember the lessons they had taught.

  In my peripheral vision I saw Jake shake his head and take a bite of his own pizza. He’d watched me go from smoldering to frigid in a matter of seconds. I was sure he thought I was about as crazy as a loon… or a reality TV star.

  Suddenly, I realized the movie had moved to where Costner and Robbins go out back of the club to “fight.” Jake laughed when Costner said the part about not being able to hit water if you fell out of a fucking boat.

  Okay, that was really funny. When the rookie missed his pitch at Costner and broke out the window of the back door, I had to stifle my own laugh.

  Costner teaches the rookie lesson number one: don’t think. It can only hurt the ball club.

  I turned and saw Jake wipe his mouth with the back of his hand…

  And fell right back into wanting the man with a fiery passion. My god those freaking hot-as-hell lips!

  I tore my gaze from him and that was when Susan asked both men to go home with her.

  What a woman… even if she was fictional. She really had confidence.

  I finished my piece of pizza and was trying desperately not to look over at Jake; the temptation was so strong.

  I was about to lie and say I was really tired, and that I had an early day tomorrow—which I did—when Susan asked Costner what he believed in?

  Costner’s answer, about the small of a woman’s back, outlawing Astroturf, and yes, the cock and the pussy, was delivered with such passion and sensuality.

  I looked over to Jake, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. He looked like I felt. Overheated and ready to explode.

  I looked back to the television and closed my eyes. Don’t, don’t, don’t…

  Oh, fuck it!

  Next thing I knew my body was hurtling across the couch and onto Jake’s. Our lips met just as his arms wrapped around me and his hand caressed down the small of my back.

  I moaned and licked up into his delicious, soft mouth. My mind went perfectly, blissfully blank as my body exploded in a supernova of want and lust and hope.

  I felt an electrical charge as our bodies rubbed together, and Jake pulled me closer.

  Then just as quickly as it had happened, I was sitting on the couch on the other side of Jake, and he was standing, his lips rosy and moist from our kiss.

  I just looked up at him, stunned.

  He smiled down at me, his dimples making his wicked smile practically evil.

  “Now that we’ve got that out of the way—and wow, you can really kiss—we’ll have a real, scheduled date next.”

  Then the bastard grabbed a piece of pizza and his jacket and headed for the door.

  “You’re leaving?” I said, incensed.

  He stopped as he pulled his jacket on over his broad shoulders. “Well, yeah. I’ve got an early day tomorrow, and I can tell you’re kind of in need of a little time to… digest all this.”

  Oh, he had noticed all the mental acrobatics. Damn…

  “So we’ll pick this up on our next date.” He turned and strode the rest of the way to my front door.

  “And when would that be?” I called after him.

  “I’ll call you.” And he walked out my door and into the Texas night.

  I leaned back into the couch and Susan Sarandon lamented that no one had ever said no to a date with her before.

  I let my head roll back into the cushions of my couch.

  “You’re lucky,” I said to her, “I get it all the time.”

  Chapter 9

  I DIDN’T BELIEVE IN wasting food…so I polished off the rest of the pizza as the movie went on. I just couldn’t get my mind around what had just happened… hell, what had been happening to me all day.

  I tried to shake it off, I needed to go to bed, get some sleep and get geared up for the photo shoot in the morning.

  But then there were the chocolate bars. I saved the Hershey bars and started in on the Caramello. It was delicious, but didn’t help.

  Eventually, I lost track of time, and the movie, and I found myself in a bathtub full of hot, silky water, and Jake was there too, beneath me. “Sixty Minute Man” by the Dominos played, and Jake’s hands, his arms, his mouth, were everywhere.

  My back arched as he nuzzled his face into my breasts, and I felt him pushing hard and insistent up against my sex. I was surprised that the water on my skin wasn’t steaming off, or that the tub of water wasn’t boiling.

  I woke to a blue-screened television and an all over sheen of sweat on my skin. I was breathing hard, and my heart was racing in my chest. But it all felt so damn good.

  I wasn’t used to having good dreams—sweet dreams.

  What a surprise.

  I turned off the TV and headed up stairs to hopefully grab some more sleep… and maybe another dream.

  ***

  Showered and dressed in comfortable jeans and a t-shirt, I went into the room I used as a studio. It was the biggest room in the house, and only had camera equipment, a table to hold it all, lights, a green screen, a couple straight back chairs and a couch.

  It also had a mini-fridge stocked with Diet Pepsi, water, and Reese’s Mini peanut butter cups—models almost never let you see them eat candy, but if it was small enough they might nibble it. I’d also found out the hard way that a model with low blood sugar was almost useless.

  I was a little distracted, which wasn’t good, especially since I had a couple of new models coming to the house in another half hour. This photo shoot might be my last chance at securing a proper cover for Olivia Lovelace’s new book. I really needed to get that one done: a shot that was sexy and different, and everything Olivia wanted—so I could get Janine off my case and secure my job at her e-publishing house.

  No pressure…

  I sat down on a chair in my kitchen and held my head for a beat. I wasn’t so much dizzy as in need of coffee and some breakfast... and maybe a frontal lobotomy so I could keep my mind from wandering off on me.

  I could not get my thoughts to stay with my upcoming workday.

  No, what my mind kept flashing to, over and over, was that kiss last night with Jake. It had been damn good… and brief and confusing, and I so, so, sooooooo wanted to do it again.

  I couldn’t wait for our next date.

  But when was that going to be again?

  Oh, yeah…

  “I’ll call you.”

  Bastard!

  I pulled myself up off my ass and started some coffee. I was pulling a granola bar out of my cupboard when a sudden yearning for eggs and bacon overcame me.

  I looked at the granola bar and slid it back in its box, and then looked down at my belly. It was pretty darn flat as bellies went.

  Then the damn thing rumbled and grumbled like it was pitching its own earthquake.

  Eggs it was.

  I popped out another pan and started the bacon first. Then I got out my tempered frying pan, a bowl for the eggs, a fork to scramble with, and a spatula. I poured myself a cup of coffee, added the sugar and some cream, and took a slow, blissful first sip of the piping hot java.

  Heaven.

  The sun didn’t so much glare as glow golden through my kitchen window, and the sizzle and pop of the bacon wasn’t as irritating as it was inviting. My belly growled as I smelled the greasy meat.

&
nbsp; Yummy.

  I cracked four eggs, and then cracked one more for good measure, and poured in a bit of water and then some salt and pepper, and stirred it all together with my fork.

  I was just about to dump it all into the waiting, heated frying pan when there was a knock on my front door.

  Damn, Drew and his ladylove were early.

  I’d probably have to cook more eggs and bacon, and maybe make some toast too.

  I jogged through my house, my feet bare, and pulled open the front door.

  All my breath just left me, and I stood holding onto the doorknob for support.

  Jake stared down at me, a crooked smile on his handsome face. He was dressed in his blue Wal-Mart TLE work shirt and black work pants. He didn’t say anything, just held out a peach colored paper bag that had Abigail’s Pastries emblazoned on it. The smell of fresh glazed donuts wafted in through my front door and made my still starving stomach gurgle in anticipation.

  Jake looked up away from me and scented the air like a wolf on the hunt. “Bacon… and coffee?”

  I gulped and tried to scare up a few words to say. Standing there mute and slack jawed wasn’t a good thing… come on!

  “I thought our next date was going to be scheduled?”

  “Oh, this isn’t a date…” he rattled the bakery bag, “it’s breakfast.”

  His smart-assed reply finally gave my brain a jolt and kick-start. “You said you’d call.”

  The handsome bastard looked down at me and smiled, wicked and knowing—he loved surprising me.

  I wasn’t so sure about all these surprises. Sure, the pizza and kiss were good surprises last night, and donuts this morning too. But sooner or later he’d surprise me with something I didn’t like.

  It was only a matter of time…

  And if he kept feeding me like this, I was going to plump up like the Goodyear Blimp!

  “And I have,” he said, moving in past me and into my house—damn, he smelled good. Better than the donuts or the bacon. “I’m a-calling right now.”

  “Come on in, won’t you?” I said snarkily as I rolled my eyes at him.

  I followed him to the kitchen and shook my head. He deposited the donuts on my table and then went over to the stove. He started turning the bacon over in the pan, and then poured the scrambled eggs into the empty frying pan.

  He was something else…

  I went and grabbed him a mug—this one was a Hello Kitty Christmas mug, pink with a green tree and Kitty in a little Mrs. Claus burlesque outfit.

  I filled it with coffee and set it beside him as he cooked. He gave it a look and cringed.

  “What?”

  He gave me a pained look. “Really?”

  I smiled. “The big tough mechanic won’t drink out of a novelty mug?” I tisked. “For shame.”

  He picked up the pink mug, gave Kitty a sneer and then gulped down some of the black brew.

  “Good,” he said, “but I can already feel my manhood shrinking.” He held up the cup and took another gulp.

  “Hold it,” I said with a faux squeal. “Let me grab my camera. This will look great on my Facebook page!”

  Jake shot me with a look that could have killed, and then set the novelty mug down with a precise motion.

  It was my turn to smile.

  He looked down at the eggs he was folding in the pan, and said, “Time to plate up.”

  I grabbed two plates from my cupboard and held them out to him. He took each one from me, our fingers brushing together, giving me little electrical sparks that made my flesh hum, my heart pitter-pat, and my toes curl.

  He dished out the food like a practiced short order cook and handed mine back to me. We took our plates and coffee—even Miss Kitty—to the table and he reached over and opened the bag of donuts. He reached in and grabbed one, and held it out for me.

  I daintily took it, and placed it on my plate.

  Jake reached back into the bag and grabbed himself one, and licked his thumb and fingers after plopping it down on his plate.

  I just sat there and stared, slack-jawed and googly-eyed as he cleaned his fingers with that lovely mouth of his.

  Oh… my…

  I had a hot, hard flash of our kiss, of dancing with him in the parking lot of the ice cream parlor, and then of us in a bathtub, naked and warm and wet.

  I shook my head, tucking into my breakfast, hoping to god I wasn’t as red faced as I felt. My cheeks were burning, and my entire face felt hot.

  “So…” Jake said and then bit into his donut. He made a blissful expression as he chewed nice and slow. The muscles in his jaw worked over the bite of fried dough, and I swear, I’ve never seen something so freaking sensuous.

  “You were saying,” I prompted. “Before you had a pastry-gasm.”

  “Oh, yeah… Are you free tomorrow night? I’ve got tickets to see Jimmy Buffet.”

  Okay, I tried to keep my excitement to myself… but Jimmy Buffet! I loved Jimmy Buffet. I grew up listening to Jimmy Buffet. And I had never gone to see him live before.

  There was almost nothing in this world I’d rather do than go to a Jimmy Buffet concert…

  “Ah, let me see…” I tried to play coy, but goddamn! “I’m free!”

  Jake smiled wide and drank some coffee. “Good, so I’ll pick you up at six, and we’ll be on the lawn at Tower Amphitheater by seven. Me and some friends always go when he’s in town.”

  Lawn seats. I loved lawn seats. You could lie down and stare at the stars if you wanted to… that was if you could see them. And I was going to meet some of his friends. That could be fun.

  Jake wolfed down the rest of his breakfast, gulped his coffee, stood and started for the front door. I was about to say something…not really sure what, but I’d taken a breath to do it. And that was when he turned around and headed back to me. He stood over me at the kitchen table, leaned down real close… close enough I could smell the shampoo he’d used, and then he reached up and ran his thumb over my lip.

  “Until tomorrow,” he said, turned and sauntered his sexy ass out of my kitchen.

  I licked my lips and tasted the salt from his skin.

  Bastard…

  I thought about Drew and his lady coming by any minute to do a photo shoot, and just couldn’t fathom how I was ever going to get through it. All I wanted was…

  I took a deep breath, then another, and pushed with everything I was worth at the thoughts that populated my head.

  This was my career.

  This was my mortgage payment.

  I needed to focus and get the goods on film… or more precisely, digital media, and then transform that into a rocking cover image so that Olivia Lovelace was happy, Janine got to keep her top selling author, and I got to keep clicking pictures for a living.

  Just as I was pushing the last stray thought of Jake and his soft, soft lips out of my head, there was a knock at the door. I peered up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was exactly ten a.m.

  Drew and his lady were exactly on time.

  Drat!

  Chapter 10

  DREW’S GIRLFRIEND’S NAME WAS Darla. And she was just the most darlin’ thing you could imagine. The pictures in Drew’s phone didn’t do her justice, not at all. Her skin was peach colored and she had wisely shunned tanning. She would reap the rewards for that later on when her face didn’t look like a roadmap of the Adirondacks.

  She was a little shy right off, but as I talked to them both and showed them to my studio, she started to relax. And as soon as I offered her a Diet Pepsi she just bloomed into a real chatterbox.

  Drew rolled his eyes as Darla’s yak motor revved up. He leaned in and took the can of cola out of her hands.

  She looked up at him haughtily and stamped her foot.

  He just gave her a level look and handed the cola back to me. “Darla gets all hyper on caffeine.”

  “What are you, my father?”

  Drew gave her a hard look. “That’s gross, baby… really gross.” And then he
reached over and rubbed his hand against her cheek, making her blush beautifully. “We’re here to do a job, and this lady here won’t be able to snap any photos of you if your mouth is going a hundred eighty miles an hour.”

  She started to argue, but Drew leaned down and kissed her sweet, honeysuckle lips and quelled the words before they made it off her tongue.

  When he broke the lip lock they were both flushed, and their lips were a little pink.

  Nice…

  “You can have one after the shoot. Then you can go all chipmunk on me if you want.”

  Okay, that was chauvinistic and condescending… but the sight of those two arguing was just adorable.

  “Okay,” I said and lead them to my big table of photographic junk. “First thing we need to do is for you to sign some release forms, so I can use the images, and I’ll need to make photocopies of your driver’s licenses.”

  Darla went a little pale, and Drew puffed out his cheeks, obviously trying to fight back a laugh.

  “You are both eighteen, right?”

  Drew burst out laughing, and Darla and I both gave him icy glares.

  “Sure, sure. We’re both nineteen,” Drew guffawed. “But Darla here can’t pass—”

  Darla elbowed him hard right in the solar plexus and Drew fell silent, except for a couple of expletive laced groans.

  She leveled a glare that would drop a tiger, and then turned and faced me.

  “I’ve taken the test nine times. I’m not good with the parallel parking… or the cones… or—”

  “Or the driving part!” Drew crowed and jumped out of her reach.

  Darla looked at me and winced. “I’m not good with tests is all.” She jerked her head back toward her boyfriend. “And this one is no help at all. Every time he takes me out on the road in his precious truck we end up breaking up for a week.”

  “Overbearing jackass?” I asked.

  “Precisely.”

  “Hey! That’s not fair… I try to just let her go, but I don’t want my truck demolished.”

  I put up my hands to ward off a full on fight. “Why don’t we try this? I’ll have some free time in few days. So why don’t I take her out in my car and she can get some practice just driving around. Then we can try the whole cones and parallel driving thing later.”