7. Chapter 6
You deserve people who see your worth.
“I feel like I keep saying thank you, but seriously, thank you for helping bring all this food back. I feel a little bad accepting it all.” Hope stood back as Bradford put another couple casseroles into her father’s deep freezer in the mudroom.
She’d put two in the refrigerator but the rest had to be frozen.
She was thankful he was with her, even if being in his presence had her emotions all over the place. Nerves had settled deep inside her with him so close, smelling so good, and god, she had to stop looking at him and thinking about what might have been between them.
“You shouldn’t. This is what people do. And who knows how long you’ll be here. It’ll be nice for you not to have to cook.” Bradford had long discarded his jacket, so he was now in a crisp, button-down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
And apparently she was really into forearms. Because whew, the muscles on him.
Oh that was right, she still wanted her husband, a man she should have gotten an annulment or divorce from years ago. But here they were, that same chemistry crackling in the air between them. At one point she thought she’d imagined it, but it was the same now as it had been then.
There was simply an energy between the two of them that couldn’t be contained.
“There were a lot of people at the reception,” he said as he slid the last casserole into the freezer. His warm, lemon and spicy scent that reminded her of cardamom wrapped around her, made her think of that weekend in Vegas.
She snorted softly. “Yeah, all those stories were about a man I never knew. He helped so many people in town after I left but couldn’t get his life together for my mom and me.” Hope knew she sounded bitter, but didn’t care.
She was bitter, if she was being brutally honest with herself. It sucked that she had missed out on the best parts of her father.
“I’m sorry,” Bradford murmured as they stepped back into the kitchen.
It was surreal but nice to have him here.
She’d put on a pot of coffee and poured herself a mug even though it was late.
At this point, she was so exhausted she’d be sleeping soon with or without it.
And one of the church ladies had given her a coffee crumb cake she was about to destroy. “You want some?”
The half smile he gave her had that same familiar tension coiling low. It was like butterflies launched inside her whenever he was around. “I’ll never say no to coffee cake.” Then he pulled open the fridge and grabbed some whipped cream.
“I like the way you think. Where are you staying anyway?” she asked as she pulled out two plates.
Her father might have updated the place to make it more modern, but everything was still in the same relative place as it had been when she was growing up.
She was surprised by the pictures he had of her around the house.
Seeing them was bittersweet. He even had some of her from the last few years from online articles.
“I had a room in that motel off Main Street, but I’ll be staying here tonight.”
She stilled, then glanced up at him from cutting the crumb cake. “Is that right?”
“I figure I could ask, but I know you’re not going to kick me out. And I’m not leaving you tonight. So here I am.”
Having him here in her space, being alone together was hard enough. Him staying over was not happening. “Jesus, Bradford. I’m not like…suicidal or whatever. I’m fine.”
“I didn’t think you were. But I also don’t think you should be alone tonight. You lost your dad.”
“I lost him a long time ago.”
“True enough. But you don’t have to be alone. So you’re not going to be. You deserve to have someone here in your corner.” His jaw was set firmly and she knew there would be no arguing with him.
And what was the point? She didn’t want to be alone tonight, though she would have never asked him or anyone else to stay. Unexpected tears welled up like a tsunami, no stopping them.
He let out a small curse and was around the island top before she’d even wiped them away, pulling her into his arms.
His thick, powerful arms. She’d missed him so much.
“Sorry,” she muttered against his hard chest as she hugged him back. God, he felt incredible. Even better than she remembered. And he was being so sweet even after she’d walked away and hurt him.
“Please don’t apologize for crying.” His words were a deep rumble. “Especially not on the day of your father’s funeral.”
She gave a watery laugh. “When you put it that way.” Her words were a little garbled with her face pressed against his chest. He’d always had a way with putting her at ease without even seeming to try.
It was why he’d been her favorite when she’d been embedded overseas for that short time with his team. Not that she’d have ever told any of them that, but Bradford had just been…her person.
In more ways than one. And then she’d done what she always did, she’d run.
Regret pierced deep, a cut that had never properly healed and likely never would. She wished things could be different—that she was a different person. But she didn’t know how to love, barely loved herself. How could she ever accept it from him?
At that thought, a fresh wave of tears popped up and she allowed herself to cry, and for him to hold her.
God, he even still smelled the same, all minty lemon cardamom. Fresh. Even in the desert the man had smelled like this more often than not.
Eventually she pulled away, felt a little zing of heat from his fingertips when he gently wiped away her stray tears. But she couldn’t fall into that trap of wanting him so bad she couldn’t think straight.
She’d allowed herself to do it before, but now she was older and wiser. Or at least older. “So how long are you planning to stay?” she asked as he finished cutting and serving them cake.
He gave a shrug.
“At least tell me what you’ve been up to.” She had to resist the urge to moan around her first bite.
“Working in New Orleans for a consulting company.”
She eyed him across the island where he was leaning against the countertop. He was as irresistible as ever. “Consulting is vague.”
He lifted a broad shoulder. “Security mostly… I’m enrolled at Tulane too.”
She found herself smiling at him. “I love that for you. I know you always wanted to get a degree. So what are you studying?”
“I haven’t decided yet. There’s a lot to figure out—which feels ridiculous to say when I’m heading toward forty. I’ve mostly been taking psychology classes, which are interesting. Mostly because I get to screw with Tiago now, beat him at his own advice game.”
She let out a startled laugh. “Oh my god, is he still the same?”
“He’s worse, but the man is always right, so.” He shrugged again.
“His fiancée seems nice. She’s…Rowan’s wife’s younger sister… did I get that right?”
“I’m impressed you remember all that.”
“Well it’s sort of my job to remember details,” she said with a smile. But it was a fair observation—she was surprised she’d remembered too. Today had been a big blur. The two women looked alike though.
“How’s work going anyway?” he asked.
“Eh.”
He blinked at her in surprise. “Trouble at work? After that whole thing with you on the news I thought it was okay now.”
“That stuff is fine…” It had just been a misunderstanding with the Feds and one of her colleagues.
“I don’t know.” She wanted to tell him that she’d been thinking about making a change, maybe leaving journalism altogether.
But now wasn’t the time for it. He was too good a listener and she needed to keep her head on straight around him.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up right where she’d been before—in his bed and falling for him.
***
“I wish I could’ve been there today. Or yesterday, I guess.” Thea’s voice was sincere over the phone line.
“I know.” Hope was sitting in bed in the room that had once been hers.
Thankfully her father hadn’t saved everything or kept it the same as it had been years ago.
Now it was a perfectly lovely guest room she guessed someone with an eye for design had decorated.
Lots of creams, blues, throw quilts and airy curtains over the window nook that overlooked the backyard and land beyond.
Probably someone from his AA group had been in charge of decorations, if yesterday was any indication. There had been about an equal number of men and women in the group.
“I appreciate it, but it was unnecessary.” And her friend had finally taken a vacation after a couple years of nearly working herself to burnout.
Thea was the only one Hope had told about her dad dying.
She didn’t work in the office anymore anyway.
She never really had. As an investigative journalist, she was mostly remote, but at one time she’d had a small desk and checked in when she’d been in town.
Things were so different from even ten years ago. She was different. Wanted a change.
“Any idea how long you’ll stay?”
“No. Part of me wants to stay for a while, and…”
“Write that book you’ve been talking about for a year?”
“Maybe,” she said with a laugh, then smothered the yawn that wanted to bubble up.
It was almost one in the morning and she’d been unable to sleep so she’d started working on one of the handful of stories she had in progress, but that weren’t complete.
“My father left it to me in the best way possible so it’s not going to go into probate, and the house itself is in great shape.
” It was spacious, and it was quiet out here in the country.
Four bedrooms, three baths, a room that could double as an office if she wanted.
Lately she’d been thinking she needed some quiet. In more ways than one.
“It’s such a big change,” she finally said when Thea didn’t respond.
“Change can be good.”
“I know.”
“It’s also scary,” Thea continued.
“Gah, I know. I’m just worried that if I step away from work, I won’t be able to come back to it if I fail at writing a book.”