5. Chapter 4
Appreciate the ones who show up for you when you don’t even ask.
Hope stared at the front doors of the community center, dreading having to go inside. She’d been sitting out here in her car for the last twenty minutes watching far more people go inside than she’d expected to see.
Her father had outlined his wishes. He’d been cremated and had requested a service at a local community center he apparently hung out at a lot. Everything about his death was so over-the-top organized it was making dealing with his death, her own fallout of emotions, even harder.
She couldn’t be angry at him about this part because he’d handled everything.
His AA friends had been serious about taking over because Chelsea and her friends had sent out the announcement to everyone in town; the food and everything for the reception and even who would be speaking at his funeral was all handled.
She was glad they hadn’t asked her to talk because she had no idea what to say.
But she also had nothing to do , nothing to keep her mind busy.
Part of her had briefly debated just leaving.
Ditching this whole thing altogether and blowing town.
Hell, she could just drive away right now and be well within her rights. She didn’t owe him anything… But still, some weird guilt settled in her chest.
“Fine, I’ll just say good-bye officially,” she murmured to the empty car before stepping outside into another oppressively hot day.
It was one hundred and four and rising. Her sunglasses fogged up the moment she shut the car door behind her, so she slid them off and made her way to the front doors.
She squinted against the sunlight, had barely adjusted when she stepped into the center. Maybe she could get away with sitting in the back—
“Oh, honey, there you are.” Chelsea was waiting in the entrance area, standing next to a table with a stack of funeral programs. “Your husband is already here. He’s sitting at the front in the section designated for family.”
Hope’s mouth went dry at the word husband . No way Bradford was here. There had to be a mistake. But she simply nodded her thanks and took the program, her chest tight as she made her way up to the front of the aisle.
Simple folding chairs had been set up on a basketball court with a large aisle separating them.
And sure enough, Bradford was sitting in the front row. She’d know the back of that dark head anywhere. That head had been between her legs multiple times, and oh, she was definitely going to hell for thinking about that right now.
What on earth was wrong with her?
As if he sensed her very loud thoughts, he turned and immediately stood when he spotted her.
Her heart stuttered. She wasn’t sure how it was humanly possible, but the man was even better looking than she remembered. And yeah, definitely going to hell for paying attention to that right now, but she was only human .
The dark suit he had on was clearly custom made, but she only had eyes for that face.
With a jawline that would make angels weep, a five o’clock shadow accentuating it, and dark unruly hair he’d let get too long, the man made her entire body wake up.
Even his longer hair looked good, because nothing he could change about his appearance would take away from that raw sexiness.
He was walking, talking sex appeal, a gorgeous man who had to know what he looked like, but somehow didn’t seem to realize it.
Or maybe he just didn’t care about the effect he had on women. And some men.
The suit might be custom made, but it still pulled a little on his biceps. And she knew exactly what he looked like naked. People weren’t supposed to look better without their clothes on, but he did. A walking god among mere mortals. He shouldn’t be real. He was too damn perfect.
It was one of the reasons she’d been so desperate to keep her distance. She didn’t trust her own judgment around him and that was terrifying.
Men who looked like him shouldn’t be so funny and just plain fun.
And kind and generous. He’d once gotten into a ridiculous dance-off with some cook on the base he’d been stationed at.
The whole thing had been wildly entertaining to everyone, herself included.
He had charisma, but not in a creepy way, because she distrusted “charming” people for the most part.
But with him, it was like he exuded sunshine and she simply wanted to soak it up.
The man was dangerous to every part of her, but especially her heart. He owned it, even if he didn’t realize it.
Before she knew it, she was standing in front of him, her throat dry, heart thudding. “Bradford.”
He pulled her into a gentle hug and kissed the top of her head. “I’m really sorry about your dad. I know you two had a complicated relationship.”
Throat still dry, she swallowed past the growing lump.
Him being here completely stripped her bare.
She’d been ready to face this alone, but having him right next to her was everything.
“Thank you for coming.” She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed him.
Or a friendly face. But mainly him. Walking away from him had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done—if not the hardest. She hadn’t even been able to make herself file for divorce.
“Most of the guys are here too,” he murmured, nodding toward the back.
Surprised, she looked past vaguely familiar faces of men and women she knew from growing up in this town: farmers, people from the church she’d gone to, and others.
But at the back she spotted Rowan, Tiago, Ezra, Hailey and a bunch of women she didn’t know, but who were clearly with the men.
She also vaguely recognized some guy from the news—billionaire Jesse Lennox.
Stunned in more ways than one, she allowed Bradford to lead her to one of the fold-up chairs and sat next to him. The family section was going to be very small—just the two of them. Because she was the only blood family left.
For some reason that was what triggered the wave of tears.
Bradford was right there, sliding his thick arm around her and pulling her close. Even though she wanted to ask why he was really here, she couldn’t find any words as she laid her head on his shoulder and let the tears fall.
She had the mean thought that her father didn’t deserve her tears, but he was dead and gone.
It felt so petty and she hated herself in that moment.
She also hated that she couldn’t say any of the things she’d kept bottled up for years, that they’d never really talked—that she’d never known him as a sober person.
And that she would never get the chance now .
The funeral itself was longer than she’d expected, with people from his AA group talking about him, how much he’d helped them, other farmers who said that even though he hadn’t had a working farm in a decade, he’d still been there for them.
Finally Chelsea got up, her eyes damp with tears as she took the small microphone.
“Hank Berkley was one of a kind and I’ll forever miss him.
Y’all know what I used to be like. After my daughter died, I fell into a dark hole of despair, but Hank helped pull me out of it, helped get me sober.
” She looked down for a moment, wiped away some tears before she looked back out at the crowd. “I’ll miss you, Hank.”
For a blip of a moment, Hope felt a weird jealousy that her father had been there for the relative stranger talking in a way he’d never been for her.
But it was impossible to be jealous of a woman who’d lost a child.
She found herself glad he’d helped Chelsea right now because she could only imagine what kind of despair she would fall into if something like that happened.
After Chelsea set her microphone down, one more person spoke, and then blessedly it was over. Hope felt like she was suffocating, listening to all these stories about a wonderful man she’d never known.
No, she’d known a very different, very selfish version of him.
And it broke her heart. She hated the longing that swept through her for something that she would never have now that he was gone. He’d given the best of himself to other people instead of her.
“Come on.” Bradford guided her out a side door before she could think about protesting, but once they were outside, she was grateful, even with the heat and humidity beating down on them. “Didn’t think you wanted to walk through all those people and deal with condolences.”
“Thank you.” Squinting against the sunlight, she looked up at him. Felt that punch to the stomach all over again. He was so beautiful. So strong and solid. But he wasn’t hers. Not really. “And…again, for being here. Is everything okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you here? Other than the obvious?”
“For you, dummy,” he muttered, making her half smile. “That’s the only reason I’m here. I saw the obituary.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. Hated that she was always expecting people to disappoint her. To be fair, they usually did, but she shouldn’t have assumed he was here for any other reason than this. “Thank you.”
“Stop thanking me. Come on, the reception’s next door and its balls hot out here.”
She snorted at his words. And despite the years since they’d seen each other, when he slid his arm around her shoulders, she found herself sliding her arm around his middle, grateful for the support as they walked along the cracked sidewalk behind the community center to the attached cafeteria next door.
“I can’t believe your friends are here too,” she murmured as they stepped into another rush of icy air-conditioning. The kitchen was already filled with food and a bunch of older ladies who smiled at them as she and Bradford let the door shut behind them.
They probably should have gone in the front, but it was easier to avoid the crowd this way.