It was dark and a cool breeze was blowing in through the open doors.
Hope stood on the small balcony of Remy’s place, staring out over the town square. With a heavy heart, she turned around and smiled at him. “Sure.”
“Liar.”
The only light came from the kitchen, throwing him into shadow. But as he moved closer, she was able to make out his face, see the gleam in his eyes, the faint grin on his face.
Grimacing, she said, “Okay, so I’m not ready. But I can’t drag my feet much longer, can I? At some point, I’ve got to go back.”
“Why tonight?” He joined her on the balcony and slid his arms around her waist, tucking her against him. She snuggled close, resting her head on his chest.
Then it clicked what he had just said. “What?”
“You don’t need to go tonight if you don’t want to.” He brushed his lips across her temple. “You can stay here if you want.”
Hope narrowed her eyes and tipped her head back to study him. “Weren’t you just telling me a few hours ago that we weren’t going to be doing anything while I needed a teddy bear? You decide you want to be a teddy bear?”
“No.” He squeezed her tighter. “This isn’t about being a teddy bear. Hell, I’ll sleep on the couch. But if you aren’t ready to go back there, or if you just don’t want to, then don’t.”
“It’s running away,” she said quietly. “I’m tired of running away.”
“It’s not running away.” He turned her around and cupped her chin, eased her head back until she met his gaze. “It’s about you needing some space. Reilly sucker punched you with that mess earlier—he used you, used your friendship, and don’t try to act like it didn’t hurt you. Don’t try to tell me it’s not still hurting you. There’s not a damn thing wrong with you needing a little more time before you head back there.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple. If you don’t feel like going back there tonight … don’t.”
Law blinked, then lowered the phone and stared at it—like that was really going to change what he’d just heard.
Then he put it back to his ear. “What?”
“You heard me. I’m staying over at Remy’s. I didn’t want you worrying about me,” Hope said, her voice cool. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Wait—”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she repeated.
Then she hung up. Just like that. Shit. She’d just hung up on him.
And damn it, she was staying the night with Jennings?
Fuck it, he’d thought the bastard had more decency than that. He knew Hope wasn’t feeling steady right now, not after the shit he’d pulled. Damn it, he’d been kicking his ass all day over that, working out what he would say and how he would say it. He needed to apologize for what he’d done, how he’d used their friendship, and he almost had the words, too.
But she was staying the night at Remy’s?
“My ass.”
His arm was throbbing, his head was aching, and common sense told him what he needed to do was just grab a beer, sit down, and chill out. What he was going to do was get the hell over to Jennings and convince Hope that what she needed wasn’t to go get seduced by some bastard who’d take advantage of her. Shit. He’d really thought Remy was better than that.
When the knock came less than a half an hour after Hope had called Law, Remy wasn’t surprised. Judging by the resigned look in her eyes, neither was Hope.
They’d been waiting for it. As though they’d had an unspoken agreement, they hadn’t bothered turning on the TV, hadn’t left the living room … they just waited.
Remy skimmed a hand down her back and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll handle it.”
But she shook her head. “No. He’s my friend, and he’s here because he’s worried about me.” Then she grimaced. “Probably has himself convinced you’re taking advantage of me. I’m getting a little tired of people thinking I’m incapable of thinking for myself.”
She stood up and handed him the Diet Coke she’d been drinking.
He watched as she padded over to the door. Halfway there, Law knocked again and with enough force to rattle the door on its hinges.
Remy set her drink down, along with his. Yeah, she could talk to him. That was just fine. But he’d be damned if the jackass glared and breathed fire all over her. This was Reilly’s fucking fault—he’d been the one to put Hope in a bad place earlier. If Reilly didn’t like it, he could shove it up his ass.
“I already told you, I’ll be home in the morning,” Hope said.
Law glanced up as Remy joined her at the door. The look in his eyes was one of acute dislike. Back at you, pal. Resting his hand on the back of Hope’s neck, Remy said nothing. But he didn’t look away from that challenging glare, either.
You fucked up, man.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Law snapped. “I was a jerk earlier and I get that. I had no right putting you in that position. That doesn’t mean you need to cry all over lover-boy there and let him take advantage of you.”
Remy stiffened.
Hope laughed. “I knew you’d think that.” She glanced over her shoulder at Remy and smiled. The look in her eyes did the weirdest damn thing to his heart. He thought he just might melt. She reached up and touched her fingers to his lips. He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.
She twined their fingers, letting their linked hands rest on her shoulder. “You don’t get it, Law. You don’t have to keep coddling me … I know you think you do. And that’s my fault. Hell, your mystery girl, what was her name, anyway? It doesn’t matter. She spends five minutes around us and that’s enough for her to figure out I’m not the strongest woman in the world. But I don’t need coddling. I’m not staying here because Remy talked me into it, seduced me into it, tricked me into it.”
She backed away from Law and her voice hitched a little as she added, “I’m staying because right now, I’m not ready to talk to you, and I’m not ready to come back to your house. I’m just not. Now please go home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
“HERE.”
Hope glanced up and met Remy’s gaze in the mirror, then looked at the shirt he held out. It was a faded blue button-down and without touching it, she knew it would smell of him.
She’d sleep with the smell of him on her skin. Her heart raced even thinking about it.
He said he’d sleep on the couch. She didn’t want him to.
Taking the shirt, she forced a smile. “Thanks. You take good care of your guests.”
He grimaced. “Sometimes Brody and a friend or two of his used to crash here. I got used to keeping spare toothbrushes and stuff on hand for them.”
“How is he?” she asked quietly.
“Pissed off. Scared. But I think he’s doing better than he has in a while.” He stared off past her shoulder, but she knew he wasn’t looking at his reflection in the mirror. “I should have seen how bad he was getting. Should have made my brother look.”
“Hey.” She reached up, cupped his cheek. “What’s happening with him isn’t your fault. It’s not his, either.”
Remy shook his head. “I should have seen it.”
“He’s a kid who lost his mom. And all you ever really saw was an unhappy, angry teenage boy. That sounds like a lot of teenage boys. How were you to know it was more than that?” She slid an arm around him. “If I’m not supposed to be beating myself up over things, then maybe you shouldn’t either.”
“That’s sneaky,” he muttered. He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her neck.
“Hmm. Did it work?”
“Dunno.” Then he stepped back. “I’m going to get the couch made up.”
“Don’t.”
The blue of his eyes glittered as he looked down at her.
Hope shifted and licked her lips. “Ahh. I mean, unless you just would rather. I’m … ah, well, you were right. Earlier. Most
ly. Or partly right.” Blood rushed to her cheeks, staining them a hot, vivid red, but she wouldn’t let herself stop.
Not now. “I do want you. I never felt like this with … well, before. But I’d rather not be a basket case when it happens, and I’m not in a good place today. But …”
Her voice trailed off. Her throat closed up.
And he was still staring at her, the blue of his eyes—so burning hot.
He took a step closer, brushed a finger down her cheek. “But what?”
“Could we … ah … just sleep together? Just sleep?” She tipped her head back, staring at him.
“Is that what you want?”
“If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t ask,” she said softly.
Heaven, Remy realized, could also come with little pockets of hell.
Looking into her wide, nervous eyes, he tried to figure out if he was going to survive this particular pocket of hell. If he didn’t, it would be well worth it.
“Okay.” He could do this, right? He could sleep—just sleep—all night with Hope Carson and manage not to touch her.
Right? He stifled a groan.
He needed a shower. Cold. First.
Then he could get into that bed with her.
“I need to shower before I go to bed,” he said.
“Okay.” She was still blushing, and once more, he found himself dying to know—just how low did that blush go?
Tearing his gaze away from her neck, he nodded toward his bedroom. “If you want to change in there, I’ll be in soon.”
After he’d done something to relieve the already painful ache in his balls—and preferably after he’d frozen himself into some state of semi-inactivity.
It could happen. He hoped.
With enough cold water.
But he might need to move to Antarctica.
The shirt smelled of him.
So did the bed.
Hope slid between soft, smooth sheets the color of jade. Dark, rich green. She stroked a hand down them and lay on her side, wondered what in the hell she was doing.
Besides shivering.
Nervous. Shit. She was nervous.
Why?
It’s not like we’re going to do anything. We’ve already decided that.
But this … sleeping in the bed with him … just sleeping, somehow seemed even more intimate than sex.
She heard the water in the bathroom cut off.
Abruptly, her stomach started to pitch.
She groaned and turned her face into the pillow. The pillow that smelled just like Remy.
What was she doing?
Two minutes later, she heard the soft whisper as the bathroom door opened, the click as the light was turned off. “Hope?”
She turned her face toward him and through the dim light, saw him lingering near the bed.
“You okay?”
No, I’m not.
“Yeah.”
His teeth flashed white. “Liar.”
“Okay. I’m nervous. But so what?” She pulled back the blankets. “You joining me or what?”
Heaven and hell, he thought. Heaven and hell.
She hissed as his arm brushed hers. “Damn it, you’re freezing!”
“Ah … hot water thing.” She scooted over and pressed her body against his, bringing that slice of heaven and hell so much closer. Remy had just spent long, aching minutes in the shower and he’d made judicious use of his own hands. When that hadn’t helped, he’d switched off the hot water and gone for cold.
And now it all proved pointless because all Hope did was rest her arm across his belly and he wanted to push her over onto her back, spread her legs, and crawl on top of her.
Instead, he lay there, gritting his teeth as she wiggled and squirmed around. He shifted and moved his arm under her and she sighed, her head cuddled on his shoulder.
Abruptly he smiled. That felt so right, he almost heard a click.
“This feels nice,” Hope murmured.
Nice. That didn’t quite touch it. He wasn’t ever going to be able to sleep and it didn’t matter. This just felt too damn perfect. Who needed sleep? But in under ten minutes, sleep came crashing down on him, a heavy, warm weight.
“Wuh …”
Hope jerked upright, staring off into the darkness, disoriented and confused.
A hand touched her arm.
“It’s just the phone,” Remy murmured.
Her breath hitched in her throat and she turned her head, tried to make out his face in the darkness.
Remy.
Holy shit.
She’d spent the entire damn night in bed with Remy.
“You okay?” he asked gruffly as he sat up.
“Yeah.” Her voice came out in a squeak. She cleared her voice and tried again. “Um, yeah. Just a little startled.”
“Hmm.” He bent over and pressed his lips to her brow.
The phone rang again.
He sighed and reached for it. “This is Jennings.”
She peered at his face.
“Hello?”
He grunted and disconnected the phone.
“Wrong number?”
“No telling. They hung up.”
Her eyes had adjusted and she could see his face as he squinted at the clock. “Almost five A.M. Bastard.”
Hope snickered.
“Yeah. You laugh. You slept through the first three calls.”
“What calls?”
He stroked a hand up her back. “Somebody’s called three other times. Probably some idiot kid—might even be one of Brody’s buddies.” He lay back down and tugged her up against him. “Go back to sleep.”
“Hmmm.” She snuggled up against him, amazed at how easy it felt to do that. “Called three times, huh?”
“Yeah. They call any more, I’ll just turn the damn phone off. I’ve got my iPhone if there’s an emer—”
The phone started ringing. He grabbed the phone and snarled into it. “Yeah?”
Hope assumed there wasn’t an answer when he slammed the phone down five seconds later.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore. Followed immediately by, “Sorry.”
He sat up and Hope pushed up on her elbow, watching as he climbed out of bed. “Watch your eyes—I’m hitting the lights.”
“What are you doing?”
“Turning off the damn phones and grabbing my iPhone,” he growled. “This is bullshit.”
She peered at him through her lashes, unable to stop from smiling as he stalked out of the room.
He looked … out of sorts, she decided.
And adorable.
That familiar thrill of heat shot through her belly. Catching her lip between her teeth, she shot a glance at the clock.
Five a.m. Would either of them really sleep much more before he had to get ready for work? That thrill of heat spread. Slipping out of the bed, she made her way to the bathroom and eased the door closed. She used it quickly and then washed her hands, brushed her teeth. Morning breath would kill things, right?
Think about the little things. Not what you’re going to try to do when you’re both back in bed …
Easier that way. Definitely. Her breathing hitched.
Her heart started to race and she suspected she just might have a panic attack if she let herself … little things!
Idiot phone calls in the dead of night. Morning breath.
The fact that she and Remy both used the same kind of toothpaste.
Three minutes after she slipped into the bathroom, she slid out and found Remy coming out of the bedroom. He gave her a tired smile, stroked his hand through her hair.
Just that light, easy touch and she watched as some of the strain faded from his eyes. “You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He scowled. “Just irritated. Tired. And pissed. You were supposed to be here so you could sleep. And here’s this …”
She smiled at him. “Not your fault.”
He just snorted. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
As he disappeared into the bathroom, she went back into the bedroom and wondered if she could do this.
Hope had never seduced a man in her life.
She didn’t even know how.
Her heart started to race and insanely, she wondered if Lena would absolutely hate her if she called her before dawn.
No, she thought, disgustedly. You’re not calling her.
You can figure this out …
She went back into the bedroom and turned off the lights. That first. Definitely that first. Because the most obvious way she figured out to clue Remy in would be to take off the blue shirt he’d loaned her to sleep in, and there was no way she was going to just stretch out naked on the bed with the lights burning.
On her way to the bed, she reached for the buttons, but her fingers were shaking so badly, she couldn’t manage to undo even one. Finally, she just jerked it off over her head and left it in a puddle next to the bed. She shimmied out of her panties and slid into the bed, listening for the bathroom door.
The water came on. Holding her breath, she lay there.
Her heart continued to race. What was she doing … why was she doing this?
What if he didn’t really want her? Oh, fuck, what if she wasn’t any good?
She took a deep breath. And immediately, his scent flooded her head. Somehow, that was all it took, and all those questions abruptly ceased.
She heard the water go off, the door opened. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “You can do this.” Then she looked toward the door, watching as his shadow appeared.
You can do this.
You can do this, man, he thought, setting his jaw as he started toward the bed.
Half the night, he had slept next to Hope, feeling her small, sleek form pressed against his. He hadn’t shattered yet.
He could manage a few more hours.
In another hour or two, he could even wake her up, make her breakfast.
Yeah. He could do this. And in a few more weeks, maybe she’d trust him enough …
Maybe. Maybe. Too many fucking maybes and his dick was a constant ache, his balls felt like they were in a knot and if he took any longer to climb into the bed, she was going to ask him what was wrong.
You can do this.
He slid into the bed.
Hope pressed up against him.
If You See Her Page 22
