Chapter 8 Hope
HOPE
Song: Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur
I feel like a high-price hooker, but not in a bad way
Itugged nervously at the skirt of my ridiculously inappropriate dress.
“Faye, this is a terrible idea.”
My best friend tapped one finger against her cheek as she watched me from the other side of the computer screen.
“You’re right. It is a terrible idea that I’m enabling you to fuck the man of your dreams. Take the gorgeous dress that makes you look like a high-paid escort off, and put that kindergarten teacher outfit back on. That woman looks like she’s been in a sexless marriage for five years.”
I’d asked my bestie for assistance in procuring a sexy dress for tonight’s date. We’d express ordered five dresses, and while three of them were date appropriate, one made me look like an eighty-year-old spinster.
And then there was the final dress.
“Do you think he’ll like it?” I asked, twirling a little.
“You’re asking the wrong question. It’s not about if the other person will or won’t like something, it’s about how it makes you feel.”
I hated how right she was.
“I feel like a high-price hooker,” I admitted. “But not in a bad way, if that makes sense? More like in a Julia Roberts, ‘Big Mistake’ way.”
Faye nodded gravely. “All hail the original bad girl meets uptight guy romance.”
I reached down to tug on my cowboy boots then examined myself in the mirror once again.
I’d gone all out for this date, treating myself to a fancy blowout at the Pink Peach, and spending hours perfecting my smoky, sexy makeup.
Not to mention the new dress. The little red number hugged my curves in all the right places.
I felt confident, sensual and ready to be ravished.
But brimming under the surface sat fear and a looming sense of the inevitable—this wasn’t real. Eventually our pretend life would crumble, and I’d be forced to face reality.
I’d thought I’d known what I had signed up for—but each day Justice revealed more of his true self, tearing down the carefully constructed walls around my heart, making me feel things I had no business feeling.
I’d grown to know the flawed man that lived under the rockstar mask—and I found that I could easily love him.
No matter the outcome, I won’t regret tonight.
I knew I’d have to let him go soon, but until that day came, I would embrace every second of this wild ride.
I struck a power pose, trying to draw on the feminine energy of the badass women who’d walked this earth before me.
“That’s it, strut your stuff sexy lady!” Faye catcalled. “Woohoo! Yeah, you sexy bitch. Work that ass, honey!”
From out of nowhere she produced monopoly money and began to flick it rapidly at the screen.
“Faye!” I burst out laughing. “Where did you even get that?”
She shrugged. “Sam and I like to role play.”
“I get to be the stripper!” he called from somewhere in the background.
“Quiet, you whore,” she yelled back playfully.
Snorting, I blew her a kiss. “Love you. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Yes. All the details, please and thank you.”
We hung up and I turned back to my reflection in the mirror.
“I can do this,” I whispered, laying a hand over my churning stomach. “I am a sexy bitch worthy of good—no, great—sex.”
I nodded once then spun, grabbing my bag and skipping down the stairs.
Gran sat at the kitchen table with three of her friends. They were, of course, playing poker.
“Gran!” I admonished, waving my hand to clear the cloud of cigar smoke. “We talked about this. No smoking.”
“Psh,” she grunted, flicking a chip into the center of the table. “We must have our vices and be allowed to indulge them.”
“You go to church.”
“To repent for said vices.” She glanced up and then whistled. “Well, where has this pretty girl been hiding?”
I blushed, fiddling with the short skirt of the dress. “Is it too much? Should I change?”
“Depends,” Gena, one of Gran’s oldest friends said, eyeing me from behind her Coke-bottle-thick glasses. “Are you hunting for a man, cause that red will have them charging you like bulls.”
I could feel the blush start at my toes and rush up my body, flushing my entire skin red.
I am a semi-redhead wearing a red dress and red lipstick. I’m the definition of a lobster.
I almost turned around to go change when a knock at the door halted me.
Torn between wanting to swap the dress and not make Justice wait, my mother’s determination to make us the politest family in all of Peach Springs won.
“Come in,” I said in a semi-panic. “I just need to change; can you wait a second while I—”
“Stop.”
I froze, one hand on the door, blinking up at Justice as he took his time looking me over. His gaze slid from the tip of my head slowly down my face, my neck, my torso, my legs and back up.
He stepped into my space, capturing me around the waist and hauling me into him.
“Is the dress you’re planning to change into going to show more or less skin?”
I swallowed, not understanding the glint in his green eyes. “Less.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, darlin’, but I’m not letting you go. This dress belongs on my bedroom floor.”
God he was a smooth talker.
“Justice….”
Gran and her gaggle of geriatric gamblers chose that moment to intervene.
“And just what are your intentions, young man?” Gena asked, fiddling with her glasses.
“Nothing good, I can assure you,” Carol said, flipping over a card. “Look at the way he’s dressed! It’s practically sinful.”
I couldn’t help but agree with Carol. Justice wore dark battered jeans with thick black boots and a white shirt that made him look as if he were gearing up to be in a photoshoot.
Over the shirt he’d thrown a blue and black plaid button up and had rolled the long sleeves up to his biceps.
I wonder if this look is the modern male equivalent of showing your ankles at a period ball.
The flex of his forearms did something to my insides, turning them warm and pleasantly tight.
“Ladies,” he greeted. “I heard you had a game tonight.”
He reached behind him and pulled a brown-paper wrapped bottle from his back pocket. Winking, he let me go to walk across the room and plonk the bottle in the middle of the game.
“Courtesy of your favorite next-door neighbor.”
“Asher sent it over, did he?” Gran said cheekily.
Justice leaned down, kissing her wrinkled cheek. “You might deny it, but I know I’m your favorite.”
She shoved him away. “Go on with you! Take care of my granddaughter. I don’t want to hear her come home until after midnight.”
He chuckled as I spluttered.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
She patted his arm. “And just so you know, my husband, rest his soul, soundproofed that attic room years ago. Was meant to be a games room before Alec and Lorrie moved in here.” Her gaze turned milky. “This house was designed for children. Not death and sickness.”
I opened my mouth, but Justice beat me to the punch.
“Alec had the best life and now look.” He nodded at me. “Your granddaughter is back in the house. And you’re going to outlive all of us, you old cat.”
Gran chuckled. “Get out of here. Have fun!”
He grinned at the other ladies. “Have a good night.”
Ruby lifted the paper-wrapped bottle. “Oh, we will.”
With a hand to my back, Justice guided me outside and into his truck. The new veneer belied the age of the vehicle. It had been lovingly restored, and as such had older features like a bench seat.
“I’m sorry about that,” I blurted as he pulled away from the house. “They’re well-meaning if inappropriate.”
He pulled out onto the main road then reached over and slid me across until my thigh pressed against his. Satisfied, he placed a hand on my upper thigh, resting it there as he drove us through town and out into the country.
“They’re fine, babe. They care about you, and I respect that.”
He changed the subject, asking about my day, making small talk.
“Did you find a house?” I asked.
“Yeah, but it’s not ready until next month.” He made a face. “I’ll be bunking with Asher and the perpetual child for the foreseeable future.”
I grinned. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me. I’m excited to learn swing. It’s been on my list for years.”
“So this request has nothing to do with that scene in book three of the Savage series?”
“You’re still reading them?”
He snorted. “Babe, I’m jerking my cock to them.
This Stone chick might have stolen my likeness, but I’ll allow it if she keeps writing sex scenes hotter than sin.
” He hit the indicator to turn us down the track toward the showgrounds.
“Not to mention they’re addictive as hell. Her writing is great.”
The unexpected praise soothed a part of me I hadn’t realized needed it.
“Do you really think that?”
“Fuck yeah. I even ordered the other series of hers—the werewolf one. You read that?”
I hesitated, wondering if I should answer. “Um, kind of. You see, I kind of am—”
My phone rang, interrupting my confession. Tugging it out of my pocket, I grimaced when I saw the name on the screen.
“Sorry, I have to take this.”
“Go ahead.”
I turned slightly away from him, answering the phone. “Hi, George.”
“Hey, kiddo,” my boss greeted. “How you holding up?”
I sighed. “I’m pushing through, trying to keep the anxiety at bay.”
“Well, I got some good and bad news for you. You ready?”
I braced. “Tell me.”
“Bad news, they haven’t concluded the investigation yet. But the good news is they’re planning to wrap it up by Thursday next week.”
I huffed out a breath. “Okay, that’s really good to know.”
“Sorry it’s not better news.”
“No, that’s okay. I guess I can’t complain about an unexpected vacation—even if it’s in such a horrid situation.”
Justice pulled into the parking lot and quickly found a parking spot as I continued to chat with my boss about a few issues he needed to check with me.
“Okay, Hope. Have a great Friday. I’ll check in with you next week.”
We hung up and I sighed, staring at the blank screen for a beat.
Justice’s warm hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing gently. “What’s happened?”
I grimaced. “I don’t want to ruin the mood.”