Finding Her Strength (Sonoma #3)

17. Levi

17

LEVI

E xcitement buzzes through my system with every glance I steal at Hope. Dinner was amazing, and I’ve learned so much more about her than I ever thought I’d get the chance to learn. Things like how she wants to go on adventures but has never had the opportunity or how witty she is when she’s finally comfortable in a situation.

We’re back in my truck now, headed to our next stop. This is either going to go fantastically or disastrously. I didn’t want to take her on the cliché dinner and a movie date, but now that we’re on the way, I feel like this could potentially backfire. If it doesn’t, I know we’ll have a blast.

“So, where are we going?” Hope asks, her melodic voice filling the quiet cab.

“A place in Westlake.”

“You’re still not going to tell me?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then. But I reserve the right to say no,” she murmurs.

Kind of an odd thing to say.

“Of course. That was always a given.”

“Not always,” she mumbles .

“Hey.” I glance over at her to make sure she’s looking at me. Her features are shadowed in the dark truck, but I can see the hesitation in her eyes. “I would never ask you to do something you didn’t want to do. I promise. You always have a choice.”

She sighs, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Thanks.”

“Has that happened before?” I ask slowly, worried about wading into territory I probably shouldn’t.

She pauses, almost as if she is debating whether to answer my question or not. Finally, she says, “Yeah it has. My dad wasn’t the nicest person to me. He didn't care much for what I had to say and made a lot of plans without consulting me or giving me a choice.”

My hands tighten around the steering wheel. While her words are gentle, the meaning behind them is not. Her dad was an asshole. “I can’t imagine how hard that was for you. Was your mom around?”

“No, she died when I was born. I lived with my grandmother until she died when I was fifteen. Then I had to live with my dad. My grandmother is the one who inspired my love of flowers. She used to call me Rosebud because I loved her roses so much.” Her quick change of subject to her grandma tells me she doesn’t want to keep talking about her dad. I don’t mind since I don’t think I have the strength to keep my anger out of my voice. Going through all of that before you’re an adult would be incredibly difficult. Not only did she have to deal with the death of a loved one, but she then had to live with someone who didn’t give a shit about her.

“What was your grandma like?”

“Beautiful,” she breathes. “My mom had me when she was young, which made my grandmother incredibly young, as well. She had this silky, dark hair that curled like mine.”

“And it was just the two of you?”

“Yeah, my grandfather passed away before I was born. It was hard on my grandmother, losing both her husband and daughter, one quickly after the other. She always told me I was the greatest gift to come from the suffering.”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman.” I pull into the parking lot of the bar, then turn off the truck. “Ready?” I ask, glancing over at Hope in the dark cab.

She nods her head in response and opens her door. I hold my hand out for Hope when I meet her at the back of the truck. The fact that she grabs it without hesitation gives me so many feelings, I can hardly name them all. Elation, hope, desire. They’re all coursing through me as we walk into the bar.

It’s noisy as we step inside. People are standing at the bar or sitting at the tables surrounding the dance floor. No one is dancing despite the music playing. Right now, it’s a pop song, but it’ll change to something different in a little bit.

“Do you want a drink?” I know I’m going to need one.

“Tell me what we’re doing first.”

“Two-stepping.”

“Sorry?” Confusion lines Hope’s face, and all I can do is laugh.

“Tonight, we are learning how to two-step. I know a little bit already, but I thought getting some lessons would be fun.”

“We’re dancing?”

“Yep.” I watch Hope’s face as she starts to understand what’s happening. Her smile grows so big I think it might split her face in half.

“I’ve never two-stepped before, but I’ve always loved to dance. I haven’t in many, many years.” A line furrows her brows as an emotion I can’t catch flits across her face. “I’m going to need a drink first, though.”

“You got it.” Keeping her hand in mine, I lead us up to the bar, catching an empty bar stool. I gesture for Hope to have a seat while I flag down the bartender .

“I’ll take a jack and coke and a—” I pause, looking at Hope.

“Vodka cranberry, please,” she supplies. The bartender nods, grabbing bottles to make our drinks while I turn to take in Hope. The lights in the bar are dim, making her olive skin look exotic. Her dark eyes hold so many emotions, I wish I could read what they were. Her tongue peeks out, wetting her lips. She’s fucking beautiful.

“I was worried dancing would be too much,” I say, leaning in close to be heard above the noise of the bar.

“Why?”

I debate about being honest or altering the truth. With the little bit I know about Hope, honesty is probably best. “Well, I’ve noticed you don’t like being touched, so I was worried dancing with me would be a bad idea.”

Hope looks down at her lap in what I’m guessing is embarrassment. “Physical touch hasn’t always been soft for me.”

“Someone hurt you,” I say quietly, attempting to keep the steel out of my voice. My teeth clench in anger at the confirmation of my assumptions. I’ve wondered since the first time I touched her and was afraid my suspicions were true.

Her eyes find mine, an ocean full of vulnerability swirling in them. It takes everything I have not to scoop her into my arms and promise to protect her forever. I wish I could’ve protected her from the beginning.

The bartender sets our drinks down, interrupting the moment. It’s probably for the best. Being in a bar isn’t the right place to discuss such a heavy topic anyway. At the same time, though, she was finally opening up to me. Hopefully, she’ll still feel like talking after we leave.

“So, you’ve two-stepped before?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Yeah, I have. Megan and Quinn wanted to try it out one day, so we all decided to go for it. Nat and Tucker never even attempted the moves. Todd and Megan tried, but Todd was horrible, though Cooper and Quinn and Max and Lucy were amazing at it.”

“Who did you dance with?” A little line between her eyebrows has me wondering if she’s jealous. The thought makes me want to puff out my chest.

“Sara. She’s like the sister I never had. I feel that way about all the girls because we’ve been friends since we were little. Sara was awful, but I didn’t do too bad.”

Hope smiles at me, her shoulders relaxing a bit, which only confirms my theory about her being jealous. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Oh, really?”

Hope nods, her smile growing wider. I love how she’s excited about this. I was worried she would want to go home the minute she found out what I had planned.

We finish our drinks at the same time the instructor tells us to gather on the floor. There are about ten other couples surrounding us while others are sitting around the bar, watching the lesson.

Hope and I watch the instructors explain how to do the first steps while a popular country song plays. When it’s time for us to try on our own, I turn to Hope with my hand held out to her. The minute she grabs it, I pull her in close to me, wrapping my other arm around her waist.

“This okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, biting her lip as she stares up at me with desire sparking in her dark brown eyes. I squeeze her hip, then start leading her in the moves, trying to distract myself from the lust coursing through my body. It backfires, of course, because Hope is an amazing dancer. The way her body moves against mine only has my hormones racing faster. I have to keep my hips angled away from her so she doesn’t feel the effect she has on me.

We start attempting more advanced moves, the instructor helping us to move on faster than the rest of the group. I spin her around, causing her yellow dress to flare out. Each spin makes Hope’s smile grow. Our eyes never stray from each other as our bodies find the perfect rhythm together.

In all the time I’ve known her, which admittedly isn’t long, I’ve never seen happiness radiate off her like this. She’s glowing, and being the one to bring her this joy has created this bubbly feeling in my chest I never want to go away.

We start to wind down on the lessons, and people start walking off the dance floor to get drinks. I keep Hope in my arms for a few more minutes because I’m not quite ready to let go.

“I have to say, I’m impressed.” Hope grins up at me.

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you.”

“Do you want to grab another drink?”

“In a minute. Let’s finish this song first.”

Hope graces me with a happy smile, nodding her head in agreement. I can’t take my eyes off her. For the first time in my dating history, I don’t want this night to end. I’m not looking for an out or a way to move things along quicker. I would be content to stand here, holding Hope in my arms for the rest of the night.

Seeing Hope slowly lower her walls has made me feel like I’ve won the best prize. Being the one she’s chosen to open up to is the best gift I could ever receive. Especially knowing it’s not easy for her to lower her guard around others.

I’m nervous I’m going to screw this up somehow. She deserves the world, and I want to be the one to give it to her. If that means it takes every ounce of effort I have to prove I’m worthy of her, then I’ll do it. I have a feeling she’s everything I’ve been looking for in a partner because, right now, with her body against mine, I’ve never been happier.

It always felt like the women I dated didn’t think I was good enough for a long-term relationship—like I didn’t have the right qualities. But having Hope in my arms proves I just hadn’t found the right person to settle down with.

As the song ends, I realize we’re going to have to leave soon. Neither one of us are huge drinkers, and since the lesson is over, the bar is getting louder, which will make talking difficult.

We step off the dance floor, my hand on Hope’s lower back as I lead her back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?”

“No, I think I’m okay.” Hope’s eyes are on me, cataloging every expression I make. I can see the tension in her shoulders; I’m just not sure where it’s coming from.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“Um, I guess.” Her hesitant answer has me wondering if she’s not ready for the night to end yet, either.

I take her hand to lead her out of the bar, her fingers twisting around mine so delicately, I want to squeeze them tight so she can’t get away. We make our way back out to my truck, and I help her up into the cab.

How can I ask her to keep the night going without it sounding like I want to sleep with her? I mean, I do want to sleep with her, but not tonight. Tonight, I want to keep learning more about her. Keep getting closer to her so we can both be comfortable with the idea of dating each other.

My thoughts keep swirling as I drive us home. Hope must be in her head, as well, because she doesn’t say much, either. The rumbling engine seems loud with the radio off.

My nerves return as I pull into her driveway, my headlights shining on her house, highlighting the small front porch, wooden porch swing, and black front door. I turn the truck off, then step out onto the driveway. Hope beats me to opening her door, and I meet her at the front of the truck. We walk side-by-side up the sidewalk, the front porch light guiding our way to the door. The air is perfectly tepid, making me want to spend a little more time in the fresh air, looking at the stars.

Standing outside her front door, I watch her fiddle with her keys. I can’t stand the unknowns anymore. “I’m not ready for the night to end yet.”

Hope’s eyes fly to mine, uncertainty and hope glowing in her gaze.

“I don’t have any expectations, I just want to spend more time with you. I’m not ready to go home to an empty apartment and sit on the couch, watching TV alone, when I could do the exact same thing with you.”

Hope grins at me. “You want to come in for a cup of coffee?”

I grab her hand, an elated smile on my face. “I’d love to.”