Stormy Surrender (New Hope #1)

by Nicole Andrews Moore

  “Do you have dinner plans?” It was a lot more difficult to spit that out than he had imagined. And he waited quietly for an answer. He had taken sales training classes for his insurance position back in Charlotte. Though he may have forgotten the bulk of the teachings and tactics, one lesson had stuck through the years. At the moment he was repeating it over and over again in his head. The concept was simple really. He who speaks first loses. And because he had everything to gain and nothing to lose, he waited for her response.

  Finally, she answered. “I have no plans, but I’m guessing you had already figured that out.” Her jaw was tightening almost as though she was trying to hold back words. She shrugged. “Thank you for taking me to the doctor. I feel ridiculous, but the shot was necessary and apparently…so were the stitches.” She slowly seemed to be snapping out of it even if only by degrees. “I may be horribly disfigured now, but I doubt that anyone will notice.” With that she chuckled and leaned back in the seat.

  He could see her struggling not to nod off. “You can take a power nap, if you want.” He realized that she was genuinely considering it. That’s why at the next light, he unhooked his seatbelt for a moment to reach over her and lean her seat back. Ever so slightly, she stirred. “You can rest,” Joe said quietly.

  When it was clear that she was truly falling asleep, he punched an address into the GPS. It appeared he had a good two and a half hours of driving time before he reached his destination. This would be good for her, the nap and spending some time at the ocean. It always did wonders for his soul. In two and a half hours they would know if it had the same effect on her.

  The sun was significantly lower in the sky when she woke up. That was the first thing Marti noticed. The second…was that there were palm trees when she looked out the window. Where were there palm trees in New Hope? It was a small town. She was certain she had seen pretty much all of it. And now it was obvious, as she gave Joe a sideways glance that they were most definitely not in New Hope any more.

  “Are you selling me to a donkey show?” She asked wearily.

  He chuckled. “No.”

  She was visibly relieved, not because she was truly worried about a donkey show, but because she figured if his intentions were less than above board, he would already be acting nervous. Instead, this was more…guilty than nervous. This time, she would try the direct approach. “So, where are we?”

  “You’ll see,” he said with a twinkle in his smiling clear blue eyes. He hummed badly while he drove. And soon, he turned up the radio to drown out his voice.

  It was some Rock Station that she didn’t recognize. And as they sang along, she saw the first sign she had found in many miles. In twenty-three miles they would be in Myrtle Beach. Her head whipped around to look at him. Her eyes narrowed. “Are we going to the beach?”

  “Maybe, if you are a very good girl…” His voice trailed off as he concentrated on switching lanes.

  And she gave that a moment to sink in. They were going to the beach. She was good. That was definitely where they were going. She hadn’t been to the ocean in a very long time. She had been to Myrtle Beach…never. Suddenly, twenty-three miles might as well have been three thousand. They were not going to get there fast enough for her liking. Without even realizing it, she was bouncing in her seat. They were going to the beach!

  By the time they arrived at their destination, Joe was beaming. It was obvious he had chosen correctly. Marti was a woman who appreciated an adventure. She was a woman who found fishy air and salty water to be therapy. When they pulled into the parking lot a block back from the boardwalk area, he had begun to wish he had one of those kid leashes for her. Even with an injury, she could hardly be contained.

  “Listen,” he said, “there’s this place that makes the best homemade fries. And they have chicken wings, too. There’s an arcade over here. I’ll beat you at skeeball like it’s my job! And, of course, the sun is about to set, so if you want shells…” Before he had even completed his sentence, she was hunting around in the truck. “What are you doing?”

  “You said if I want shells. I want shells!” He could see that she was rifling through his door, his floorboards, he guessed pretty much anywhere she imagined a baggy might have fallen during his travels.

  “Does it look like I have a bunch of junk in here?” He asked almost impatiently.

  “No…,” she said sadly. “I’ve never seen such a neat and organized truck in all my life.” She sounded more depressed at that than impressed.

  “This is the way I make a living. I can’t be opening my door and leaving garbage all over the job or at people’s homes. They care about that.” He gestured to the buckets and bins. “I have a place for everything. And I put everything back in its place.”

  “Great. So where do I put my shells?” She looked at him hopefully.

  “You should have thought of that before you left.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Are you serious?” She practically roared. “I fell through my porch, ended up getting stitches, fell asleep, and woke up on the other side of the state. When would I have known to plan for searching out sea shells?” She stomped away from the truck after slamming the cab door. “If you planned on doing this, you might have mentioned it so I could prepare!” She was walking in the direction of the shops they had passed.

  He smiled again. Even as she hobbled along, the gentle swaying of her hips, the way her butt cheeks rose and fell with each stride, he was once again reminded how much he loved to watch her walk away…the angrier the better. He was rather enjoying walking behind her…until she stopped suddenly and whipped around to face him.

  “Can we go to the beach first?” There was a pleading look in her eyes. He almost hated to deny her, but he knew she would forgive him in the long run.

  “What if we get fries first?” He could see that the beach was calling to her despite the chilly temperatures. “They give us the fries in a cup. And then you can use the cup for your shells. Sound like a plan?”

  She nodded happily and waited for him to catch up before walking any further. They walked side by side. He was still introspective, he was enjoying her enthusiasm. He only knew one other person who had made him this happy, this excited to do something he had done so many times. And for a moment, he wondered if it would always be that way around Marti. She certainly had a zeal for life. Of course...so had Finn. He sighed. Why did he feel the constant need to compare them? There was no comparison. Marti was married and Finn was gone. None of that was likely to change. He sighed.

  When Marti heard the sigh, she glanced up at him. “Listen, just in case I get distracted or fall asleep on the ride back, too…I want you to know I appreciate this. This…impulse drive…was just what I needed today. You have no idea how much.” And then she looped her arm through his, matched his brisk pace, and headed to get their cup of fries.

  It was funny, minutes later, as they were eating them, sharing the same cup that she realized the natural ease and closeness that had developed between them. There was no tension as their hands brushed occasionally. There were no awkward silences as they sat and ate while staring at the ocean from their wooden bench.

  The sun was setting and the chill in the air was beginning to bite at her ears and nip at her nose, but still, she was drawn to the water. He looked at her questioningly. “Just for a few minutes,” she said. “I’ll be right back. You don’t even have to come down with me. I just…need to do this.” She saw him slowly nod as she backed away and turned to the water.

  Her feet hit the sand. She felt it shifting under her Nikes. She knew that it would be cold and damp. There was no way she was taking off her shoes and socks. It wasn’t that kind of trip. Still, there was something soothing about the sound of the ocean as it washed against the shore. There was something relaxing about the mindless act of wandering down the beach, picking up whatever caught her attention. And a few minutes later, she felt him. It was strange to say that, but she didn’t know any other way
to explain it. Never before had she experienced that sensation. All of a sudden, she just knew he was there. And when she turned, she found him about two feet behind her and up higher on the loose sand.

  They were companionable. It was such a change from what she was used to in her life with Blaine. There was always this tension. He was always so stiff. He would never have walked the beach with her…especially at sunset. When she peeked to see what Joe was doing, she realized that he, too, was reveling in the glorious colors the sky was turning. He smiled at her and walked closer with his hand outstretched.

  “I wasn’t sure what you were looking for,” he said. “So, I just picked up anything I thought was interesting. See anything you like?”

  “Oh, I can’t take your shells. You keep them,” Marti said, both touched and surprised.

  His hand dropped some and he looked her in the eyes a little taken aback. “But I got them for you…”

  For some reason, she could tell that this really mattered to him. And with that, she offered him her cup to pour his treasures in. She felt…special. It took so little to make her happy. The fact that taking them seemed to make him feel better, too, didn’t hurt one bit.

  As the sun dropped lower in the sky, they walked back to the boardwalk. There were stores to look in with the usual souvenirs, the tacky t-shirts, the shell memorabilia, the hermit crab looking uncomfortable and out of place in a painted shell. They looked around each enjoying their own areas of the store. Though the weather was easily thirty degrees too cold for her to be comfortable in one, she eyed the sarongs. Then as she gazed at the items, she saw something on a rack that caught her eye.

  “Let me buy it for you,” Joe said from directly behind her. “I want you to have something to remember today by. Do you have a charm bracelet?” He reached over and picked up the sterling silver charm that looked so out of place surround by cheap plastic and costume jewelry.

  “Actually…I don’t,” she admitted, shyly.

  “Well, then we’ll get you one of those, too.” He waved to the girl behind the counter who came right over. “I need to see…that one!” And he pointed out a sterling silver bracelet that looked like it would easily accommodate many charms. After paying for it, he carried it out to the truck, assembled it, and fastened it around her wrist. “What do you think?”

  To some it would look ridiculous. She was wearing a charm bracelet with a single charm. Yet, to Marti, this was already a prized possession, a symbol of hope for a better future. The one simple charm he had chosen was a shell. She fingered it happily as he drove them back to New Hope. “Thank you. I love it.” She looked out the window, enjoying the lights coming on now that the sun had officially set. “I can’t believe we drove to Myrtle Beach to walk the beach at sunset.” She leaned back and let out a soft blissful sigh.

  “And to get fries. Don’t forget the fries.”

  “Yes, fries,” she murmured, as she closed her eyes and rested once more.

  Marti felt refreshed and rejuvenated when she woke up the next morning. She touched her left wrist and smiled when her finger tips touched the charm bracelet. Today, she would start working on the house in earnest. There was so much to do, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, she felt invigorated and excited. She couldn’t imagine a single thing that would ruin her day.

  She had showered and dressed. She had eaten and driven over to the house. She was just about to pull out her list and see what they were going to tackle first when her phone rang. It was Blaine. And she was more than a little surprised to hear from him after the way their last conversation ended.

  “Yes,” she said in clipped tone.

  “I’m cutting you off,” he said unapologetically.

  “What? I don’t understand. What does that mean?” She could feel a panic rising in her that she hadn’t experienced before.

  “My lawyer has advised me to change the bank accounts. Whatever money you have left, that’s the money you have until we finalize the divorce.”

  It was silent on the other end, but for the rhythmic sound of him breathing. She marveled over it. He wasn’t even breathing hard. She had been a kept woman their entire marriage, unable to keep a job because everything was about him and for him, and now this. She refused to let him see how scared she was. It was more than that. She was angry, furious even. He was trying to hold her hostage with money. Though he hadn’t said that, it was in fact, implied. Behave and she would be taken care of. Toe the line and she would be fine. Buck and he would hurt her every way he could, and few ways were more effective than by threatening poverty.

  “That’s fine,” she finally replied, making sure to keep her voice even, to act ambivalent, unaffected. “Well, the contractor is here, so I’ll let you go.” And without saying a proper goodbye, she hung up.

  The weight of his words jarred her like a wrecking ball. “And the hits just keep coming,” she muttered as she walked in through the back door.

  There were some tools scattered about the house. Clearly, New Hope was the kind of place that the crew didn’t have to worry about anything being stolen. That gave her some degree of comfort. And then she saw it. Over leaned against the door frame heading towards the hall was a sledge hammer.

  Smiling, she walked over to it. If Blaine was here, she’d probably knock his block off. Instead…she hefted it. She took a few practice swings. She wanted to break something. There had to be something in this house that she could safely demo and work through her anger. And as she turned toward the sun streaming through the windows, there it was: the bathroom. She knew the plan was for a complete overhaul anyway. That was what she would do, starting now. She dragged the sledge hammer behind her.

  The toilet had been removed. There was a cap covering the opening. The sink had been removed already and that god awful medicine cabinet with the mirrored front. She had imagined hitting that and shattering it into a million tiny pieces. In her mind, it was very satisfying. In reality it wasn’t going to happen. There wasn’t much left in the room at all, except for the tile.

  She glanced at the hammer, then the tile, shrugged, and started swinging. The tile made a lovely high pitched sound as it shattered. The shards flew about the room, ricocheting off the walls and door before landing on the floor. And because that first swing felt so good, she just kept swinging. Each times the sledge hammer connected with the tiles, she would think of what her marriage had been like. She would recall an incident, or a conversation, or any one of a thousand reasons that she should have dumped him, should have ended the marriage years ago. It felt good. Maybe even great. And then she looked down and saw red. Literally. There were blood droplets all over. Before she could even ponder why the room was looking like a crime scene, the wooden handle was ripped from her hands.

  “What are you doing?” He sounded incredulous. And annoyed.

  “You’re a contractor? What does it look like I’m doing?” She was upset that he had interrupted her impromptu therapy session.

  Shaking his head, Joe grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room. “I know demo and that wasn’t it.”

  She growled. “I wasn’t done yet!”

  “You, babe? You are finished.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he covered it. With his mouth.

  Shocked, she stood there with her eyes wide open. His mouth was pressed against hers. And it didn’t feel wrong at all. Without thinking, she melted into him, wrapped an arm around his neck, and allowed her eyes to slowly flutter shut. Joe bent slightly and scooped her up and held her against his muscular chest. His lips pulled back, but his forehead was pressed against hers. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her.

  “Crazy woman,” he muttered to himself as he carried her out the back door of the house. She couldn’t be certain, but it seems like she would have been carried farther if he hadn’t heard the sound of others talking in the front yard.

  Slowly he lowered her to the ground and made sure she had her footing before releasing her. She wanted to smile up at him, but s
he hadn’t decided what to make of that moment. All she could do was look at him and murmur…”Why?”

  “I needed to distract you,” he responded with a shrug. And with that he turned and walked away.

  She formed fists at her sides. That man. He had tricked her. And she had fallen for it. She felt like a fool. Laurel was right to warn her. She started to storm off, to head back to Hope House, to run to the pharmacy for Bandaids and antiseptic, to be anywhere but near him. She glanced at her hands, dripping with blood from many tiny slices made from flying tiles. They didn’t hurt, but they looked so ugly. She was just about to get into her Vue when he grabbed her.

  “Where are you going?” He asked jovially.

  She wanted to be angry, but that would just let him know that he had gotten to her. And that was something she could never allow. “Just heading out to clean up. My hands are a mess.” She held them up to demonstrate.

  “Yeah, I figure I’m covered with your blood, too. He reached behind his head to feel the back of his neck. Then he examined his fingers. Yup. Great.” He turned to the crew. “I’ll be right back.”

  And with that, he grabbed her hand and led her across the road to his house. The door was unlocked, which didn’t surprise her since he was close to home. He probably let the guys use his bathroom, too. After all, it wasn’t as though she had one they could access…especially now.

  Joe gave her the world’s fastest tour ever. He dragged her through the front door, through the great room, down the hall and brought her directly to the bathroom off the master bedroom. From everything she had seen so far, the bedroom was not unlike the rest of the house.

  “I didn’t see a computer,” she noted in surprise.

  “That’s because I don’t have a computer.” He busied himself pulling supplies out from under the bathroom sink while she chattered away.

  “I don’t understand how anyone can get along these days without one.” She shrugged.

  “What do I need a computer for? I have this mini one here on my hip.” He pointed to his iPhone.