by Diana Gardin
The corners of his lips quirked upward. “I think that’s amazing. And she’s good inspiration.”
“Yeah,” Hope answered, her face clouding. “She needs me.”
Violet needed her more than Reed would ever know. And if Wendy and Frank came home to discover Reed in their driveway, Hope would have a lot of explaining to do. She was seized with sudden panic at the thought, her muscles tensing in dread.
“I really should get in to help her,” Hope hedged.
“Want some extra hands?” Reed asked. “I pretty much could have taught my algebra class in school.”
Her heart softened at the sight of him. His dark hair was windswept, his cheeks were flushed, and his blue eyes glittered with hope. He wanted to be here, with her. And he wanted to help her, help Violet. God, what was wrong with him? Something had to be, right? His bottom lip was caught between his pearly teeth, and she experienced a flashback of what that plump lip felt like between her own teeth. She barely hid her shiver.
She wanted him here. Well, not here, in this house. But here, by her side. And he was so obviously a willing companion. At the moment, she cursed her life and her circumstances even more than usual. They were holding her back, once again. This time from something potentially life changing and wonderful.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, the reluctance pouring out of her voice. “I wish I could let you. My”—she nearly choked on the word—“mother and stepfather will be home soon. It wouldn’t be a pleasant meeting. I’d like to avoid it.”
She risked a glance at his face, hoping with everything in her that he’d understand. Or at least that he’d comply without too many questions.
He studied her for a few seconds. Then he reached out and pulled her into his arms. She allowed herself a moment of leaning into him, resting her cheek on his chest. He smelled more than good, like sea air and light, musky cologne all at once. She inhaled deeply, wishing his scent could envelop her again like it had three nights ago. She hadn’t actually spoken to him since then. He’d texted her a few times, but she’d avoided speaking to him on the phone. The way she’d felt with him that night terrified her, only because she knew she couldn’t keep it.
She’d never be able to keep him.
He rested his chin on the top of her head and she sighed at how easily her body tucked into the solid mass of his.
“Hope,” he murmured. “Is everything okay?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, hesitant.
“I mean…here? With your parents and Violet and you? I get a feeling…” He trailed off.
She sighed again and shook her head, pushing off his chest so she could stand upright again. Facing him, she steeled herself with a silent breath.
“Everything is fine. I’ve got it under control.”
His azure eyes were too expressive, too vibrant, too knowing. “I’m sure you do. But I want to be here for you. So you don’t have to keep everything to yourself.”
He had no idea what he was saying. And she wasn’t going to delve into the special circle of hell that was her family dynamics. As if sensing her hesitation, he pulled her into his chest and squeezed. She settled her head there comfortably, marveling at how the hard planes of his center could feel so inviting. So safe.
He didn’t say anything, but she felt him rest his chin on top of her head.
“I’m here, Hope. When you’re ready.”
Reed seemed to have the kind of personality that could push until he got what he wanted. Like he was used to doing just that. But with her, he only pushed as far as she was willing to go. He never took more than what she wanted to give.
“Thanks for the offer. I’m good, though. What did you come to say?”
He dropped his arms from around her waist and squinted down at her. Caught in his stare, she felt as though she were made of glass. Completely transparent in Reed’s gaze.
“I’m here to ask you out. Like, on a date.”
She sucked in a breath. “Reed…”
“What, Hope? You’re not seeing anyone, right?”
It was her turn to chew on her bottom lip. Nerves shot through her body, beginning down at her toes and firing what could have been fireworks of anxiety off the top of her head. “No, I’m single. I just have a lot going on right now. I don’t know if I should be dating.”
She actually knew for a fact that Frank would expressly forbid it, but she wasn’t going to mention that to Reed.
He eyed her as if he was seeing right through to her depths, where she hid all her secrets. He tilted his head to one side, the corners of his mouth pulling down. “You’re too young to have that much going on, Hope. Let’s go out. I promise you’ll have a good time, and then I’ll bring you back home in one piece. Do you trust me?”
She was lost, once again, in the depths of those eyes of his. They told a story, one that she desperately wanted to know the ending to. They held so many promises for her: safety, adventure, a sense of home that she had never before experienced. And all she had to do was reach out and grab it.
“One date?” she asked. “And we’re not, like, a thing.”
He chuckled. “We don’t have to be a thing. Hell, I don’t even know if I’d know how to be a thing with someone. But I do know that I want to get to know you better. I know that I love going to sleep smelling you all over my bed. I know that I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. And I know for damn sure that’s never happened to me before. So, yeah, I want to go out. With you, and only you.”
She reached out to clasp his hand, for no reason other than to steady herself. Her heart was rocketing away in a sporadic rhythm, and she was in real danger of falling over from the heat that was coursing through her body and into her heart. Not to mention the dampness in her underwear. No one had ever spoken to her like that. No guy, with the exception of Morrow, had wanted to get to know her.
Maybe it was because every guy she dated was there because he had paid to be.
“When?” she whispered. Her voice was no longer working the way it should, and a whisper was all she could manage.
“How about this Saturday night?”
Her heart plummeted from the height Reed had caused it to soar to. “I can’t. I spend my weekends working for my stepfather.”
“Your weekend nights?” Reed’s forehead wrinkled when his brows rose.
She nodded grimly.
“Okay, then. You free Sunday night?”
She nodded again, this time with a faint smile.
“Then we have a date this Sunday night. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Panic engulfed her. “Here?”
Reed nodded slowly, squeezing her hand in his warm fingers. “Here is where you live, Hope. So yeah, I was planning on picking you up here. Is that a problem?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ll see you Sunday at seven.”
He bent slowly, causing her heart to start out of the blocks once again. He pressed warm lips to her cool forehead, and stood looking down at her.
“I can’t wait,” he whispered, his eyes boring into hers. “Sharon and I will be here on time.”
“Sharon?”
He reached out to pat the truck affectionately. “Shhh. You’ll hurt her feelings.”
“You named your truck?” She placed a hand over her mouth to cover a giggle.
“Of course. She’s the most important woman in my life. Until someone comes along to change that, she’s Sharon.” His blue eyes twinkled merrily as he winked at her.
Hope managed to merely nod and smile.
She began walking toward the house, but yelped when he smacked her bottom. She turned back with narrowed eyes, and his were crinkling at the corner with mirth.
“Hey, Hope?”
She looked back over her shoulder.
“Sunday’s not going to suck. And it won’t be nice, either.”
Violet was waiting for her at the kitchen window, and Hope groaned at the sight of her sister’s huge grin.
“Seri
ously?” Violet shrieked. Well, as close to a shriek as Violet’s ultracool demeanor would allow. She had none of the hotheaded tendencies of her mother and her sister. “He’s so hot! Like, rock star hot! How have you never told me you have a boyfriend?”
“Violet!” Hope snapped. She immediately softened her tone; she never spoke to Violet in anger. “Sorry. But think about what you’re saying. Reed is not my boyfriend. I cannot have one of those. You know that just as well as I do.”
“Let’s pretend for a minute that I know nothing. Why can’t Reed be your boyfriend? He was here, sitting in his big-ass truck, waiting for you to come home. That’s hot. He wants you. Why not?”
Hope stared at Violet. “Because he probably wouldn’t appreciate the fact that I date other men every weekend. And I get paid for it. Not to mention what Frank would do if he found out.”
Violet shrugged. It infuriated Hope sometimes, how simple life was according to Violet. “So stop dating rich men for money. I hate it, anyway.”
Hope sank into a chair at the vast glass-topped kitchen table, where Violet’s homework was spread in a haphazard arc of loose-leaf paper. “If I could, Violet, I would. But my job at the Center pays, like, nothing. And if it were just me, I’d be so fine with that. But it’s not just me. I’m working on putting away money for the two of us. So I can get you out of here.”
Violet dropped her pale blond head and sighed. “Now that I know you have a guy like that out there, just waiting for you, how can I be okay with that, Hope? You need to stop working for Frank. Yesterday. It’s not worth it. Plus, you could have all the money in the world. Mom’s never going to let me go. And I don’t want you to throw everything away to go on the run with me. I just don’t want that.”
Tears stung Hope’s eyes as they threatened to spill out onto her cheeks. Violet was just so much wiser than any thirteen-year-old needed to be. “Don’t worry about it, Vi. It’s my deal. You just keep kicking ass in school and painting your little ass off. I promise I’ll take care of the rest.”
She wiped her eyes and quickly changed the subject to prevent any more argument out of Violet. “Let’s get started on this.”
Maybe Violet had forgotten what life had been like before Wendy had snagged Frank. Living in a shitty trailer or apartment. Barely any money for food. Thrift store clothing. Roaches. All of that on top of the pain. And it was only a matter of time before the three of them were out on their asses again. She would never leave Violet alone with Wendy. Never.
Violet leaned forward to reach for her textbook, and her shirt rode up on her back. Hope gasped.
“Oh, my God, Vi! What happened to your back? What’d she do?”
The bruise was healing, and Hope could tell it was a couple of days old. It wasn’t violently black-and-blue the way a fresh bruise would have been.
“It doesn’t hurt,” whispered Violet.
Tears stung Hope’s eyes as she pulled Violet in for a hug. “That’s what you always say, sweetie. What happened?”
“I was getting ready for school. I guess I took too long in the shower. I don’t know why it matters. It’s not like we’re all sharing one bathroom the way we used to. Anyway, when I came out, she shoved me. And I fell onto my ass. I think my tailbone got bruised.”
Hope gritted her teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me? You might have needed a doctor.” Emotions were swirling around and around in her head, making her dizzy. She was pissed, but she was also heartbroken. Wendy had always treated Violet this way. Why? She sucked in a deep breath, letting the air out slowly as she focused on her sister.
“I don’t want to go to the doctor every time this happens, Hope. I’m fine. Let’s work.”
Hope was reluctant to let it go, but she couldn’t see another alternative. But the incident only made her more determined to find a way to get her sister out of this house. For good.
They worked for nearly two hours on Violet’s mound of homework before Hope finally made it out to the pool for a night swim. She dived in and began pulling herself through the water, feeling the tension siphon off of her muscles as the laps ticked by. She swam until her limbs were heavy with exertion, and she pulled herself woodenly out of the pool and up to the shower. All the while, her mind kept shifting to a tall, too-sexy-for-his-own-good rocker.
A bead of sweat dripped down Reed’s forehead as he leaned into the mic. He often sang his original stuff when he performed at Sunny’s, because everyone there knew him and would support whatever he did. But when he had a gig in Charleston, he sang mostly covers, with a song or two of his own thrown in. He sang one now that he’d written not too long ago, entitled “You’re Better Than Him.” He crooned the lyrics with the softest edge of his voice, allowing just the slightest tip of roughness to slice through the audience during the most emotional peaks of the song. The crowd was settled comfortably into the palm of his hand, and he was loving every single minute of the performance. His friends occupied a table up front as usual, and after this song was finished, he’d be done for the night and able to join them for a drink.
Things were different now that Hope had agreed to go out with him on an official date. He’d thought she’d been heavy on his mind before, but now he pictured her face before falling asleep at night. His fingers itched to text her or call her as soon as he woke alone in his bed.
Because these days, he was always alone in his bed. Hope had said she didn’t want to be a thing, but he couldn’t bring himself to escort random girls home just to get laid. He wasn’t sure, but those days just might be over. He didn’t know whether to be excited or pissed that he wasn’t getting sex on the regular, at the snap of his fingers. Tonight would be a long night. He could only take comfort in the fact that it was Friday, and in two nights he’d be wining and dining the woman he saw in his dreams at night. Hopefully, she’d be willing to budge on the “not a thing” criterion.
He walked offstage to the sound of whoops and loud applause, and he settled into a seat at the table. Tamara, Tate’s twin sister, slid a longneck in his direction.
“I loved that song,” she mused. “Your music always makes me think a little too much, Reed.”
The melancholy tone she used wasn’t something Reed was used to hearing from Tamara. She was usually bubbly and outgoing, and always ready to party. She was a little wilder than Aston and Ashley were, even before Ashley was married and Aston had met Sam. But lately she seemed different. Quieter, more stuck inside her own head.
“You okay?” he asked her, cocking his head to the side and studying her face. She and Tate shared a birthday and their coppery red hair, but not much else.
She sighed heavily, her chest rising and falling with the movement as she drummed her fingers on the table. “Just fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Just caught up in my own thoughts, that’s all.”
“That’s not like you.” Reed frowned while the noise level in the club continued to rise around them. “You’re usually living in the moment. What’s changed?”
Tamara glanced around the table. She shrugged, staring up at the bar. “I’m going to get a drink.”
Deep in thought, Reed watched her go.
When Sam had first arrived in Nelson Island, Tamara had jumped at the chance to attract his attention. She was looking for love, all right, and usually in all the wrong places. She either didn’t notice, or thought she could overcome, the way Aston and Sam looked at each other when they thought no one was paying any attention.
Reed jumped when Tate’s elbow found his ribs. “What?”
Tate inclined his head toward the pair of blondes eyeing Reed from the bar. “Let’s get down to business. Your wingman needs to get some ass tonight.”
Reed rolled his eyes. How had he never noticed before how shallow and disgusting Tate sounded? And he used to sound the same way. He only just realized his heart had never been in the chase the way Tate’s was.
“I’m good,” he answered his friend. “That’s all you, man.”
Tate frowned. �
�But they’re looking at you. I’m the wingman, you’re the main man. Let’s do it.”
“Not tonight, Tate,” said Reed, lazily propping his booted feet up on the table. “You’re gonna have to suit up on your own, or take Blaze with you.”
Blaze’s eyes lit up from across the table. “I’m in, bro.”
Tate frowned at Reed. “What’s up with you?”
“Yeah,” Aston butted in. “What is up with you? Not that I’m complaining, little brother, but this sure as shit doesn’t sound like you. Are you sick?”
Sam shot Reed a knowing glance before settling an arm around Aston’s chair. “Easy, Princess. Maybe Reed’s just growing up a little.”
Tate looked horrified. “Growing up? C’mon, Reed. Don’t do this shit to me now!”
Reed chuckled. “Have fun, Tate.”
Tate groaned and slammed his beer down on the table. “Come on, Blaze. The ladies await.”
Reed watched them go with a small smile on his face, then he glanced back at his sister. “I’m fine. I’m just not into bringing randoms home right now, that’s all.”
Aston’s mouth dropped open. “Why?”
Tamara plopped back down into her chair, a cocktail glass in hand. “Yeah, why?”
Reed sighed. The girls weren’t going away quietly. So he decided to tell them the truth. Aston might actually have some advice for him that he could use with Hope.
“Remember that girl you saw that night at the business owners’ banquet? The one with all the long hair?”
“No.” Aston gasped. “I mean, yes! But…you aren’t bringing random girls home because you’re into one girl in particular? My little brother?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I think she’s gun-shy.”
“Smart girl,” said Tamara with a smirk.
Reed shot her a dirty look. She leaned into a hand, cupping her chin and grinning.
“I need to get her to trust me, so she’ll open up to me. I don’t think she’s had the easiest life, even though her parents’ house over in Charleston is almost as big as Mom and Dad’s. I just get a feeling that she has a lot of heavy shit to deal with.”
