This Much is True

by Louise, Tia

  “What was coming to him?” Jesse watches his uncle while Hope pours the pancake batter into a squeeze bottle.

  “Nobody listens to him anymore.”

  Jesse is confused, but Hope pulls him back to their preparations. “Good. Now, Jesse, you’re going to use this to make your pancakes. I’ll show you.”

  “Where’s GA?” I step up beside my brother, grabbing a few chocolate chips.

  “John!” Hope bumps me with her hip while she holds the squeeze bottle over the frying pan. I give her cute little butt a pinch and she squeals. “You messed it up…”

  “She had to go to the church for some reason. Probably more prayer chain.”

  “I think it looks like a turtle.” Jesse watches his pretty stepmom drizzling batter on the hot pan.

  “It was supposed to be a heart.” She narrows her eyes at me.

  I wink. “There’s more where that came from.”

  Hope snorts a laugh, shaking her head as she passes the bottle of batter to my son. The two of them spend the next few minutes spelling out their names, my name, Scout, Gran, then they make shapes. After they’ve finished playing and flipping the pancakes, we’re all around the table spraying whipped cream and adding chocolate chips or banana slices or walnuts or all three.

  “This is the best pancake ever!” Jesse is shouting again, which means he’s happy. Or hopped up on sugar. Or both.

  I expect to see my grandmother when I hear voices at the back door. I do not expect to see my ex-wife and father standing in the small mud room at the side of the kitchen.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Dad seems uncomfortable. He and I still haven’t come all the way around.

  “Oh!” Hope jumps up from the table. “Jesse’s soccer game.”

  Becky strides into the kitchen, looking around and crossing her arms. “What’s all this?”

  “Hope makes special pancakes, and we wrote our names and made shapes. I even made one that looked like Dad!” Jesse is turned up to eleven.

  “Inside voice, Jess,” his mother scolds. I wish she’d give him a hug and smile at him like Hope does. “Chocolate and whipped cream? Not a very healthy breakfast.”

  Hope returns to the room carrying Jesse’s cleats and shin guards. Her eyes are worried as she scans the empty plates. “I did use whole wheat flour, and the peanut butter is organic…”

  “That’s a lot of sugar.” Becky’s eyes move up and down my wife in her typical judgey way. She’s not smiling.

  I step up beside Hope, putting my arm around her waist. “He’ll burn that up in five minutes playing soccer.” Giving Hope a squeeze, I kiss the side of her head. “The most important thing was spending time together.”

  Hope gives me a grateful glance. Becky’s still watching us with her arms crossed and her upper lip curled. She’d better think twice before she tries to make trouble with Hope.

  “Let’s go.” She pats our son on the head and turns for the door. “We’ll have him back in time for dinner.”

  “Have fun!” Hope calls, and Jesse makes a U-turn running back to where she’s standing. Hope instantly drops to her knees, and he throws his arms around her neck, giving her the biggest hug.

  “Thank you for the pancakes.” He kisses her cheek, and I’m ready to high five him. “Bye, Dad!”

  He takes off running out the door, and Hope stands, clasping her fingers in front of her mouth. “He’s so adorable.”

  “I remember when I used to get the hug bye.”

  I watch my father leave and think about how I started this journey, burning with rage and hell-bent on revenge. Karma has settled the scores far better than I could’ve.

  He has nothing, he’s married to that shrew, and he works for me. I actually feel sorry for the guy—when I think about him.

  I have my son, and I have Hope. Her eyes meet mine, and it’s sunshine breaking through the clouds, warming my heart and calming my anger.

  GA plops down at the table. “That Rebecca St. John is so horny, I swear.”

  Hope and I jump back, but Scout slides in beside our grandmother unaffected. “Ornery, Gran. The word’s ornery.”

  “That’s what I said!” GA snaps. “She’s so damn horny. I wish she’d try a little kindness sometime.”

  Hope’s hands move from in front of her mouth to covering her face, and we both start to laugh. I’m collecting plates, and Scout joins me at the sink to wash them. I’m not sure how we got stuck with dish duty, but it started that day at GA’s house when we first rolled into town.

  “You’ve been spending a lot of time in Oceanside.” I glance at my brother, taking the clean dish from him and drying it.

  For the first time all day, he grows serious. “You remember Daisy Sales?”

  Leaning against the counter, I try to remember. “Was that the little girl you were so into junior year?”

  “We dated senior year.”

  “I was gone your senior year.”

  “I remember.” He drains the sink, seeming pissed at me for graduating. “They tried to make me quarterback that year.”

  “Mistake.” I fold the towel, thinking. “Her dad owned a furniture store?”

  “Antiques.”

  “Teachers would pay her to do interior design for them.”

  “How the fuck do you remember all this?” He shakes his head.

  “She set me up with Becky.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t hold that against her. Becky had us all fooled.” He puts his hands on the sink and looks out the window at the elaborate yard around my equally elaborate house.

  This big ole place is a century old, with five bedrooms and five baths. It’s on the historic register, and recently renovated. GA picked it out because she said I had to have a bigger house than my dad’s. She’s still pissed he hid our mother’s trust fund from Scout and me.

  I only agreed to buy it because I wanted her to move in with us. Then she insisted on staying in her tiny little house.

  “She lives in Oceanside… with her little girl, Melody. She’s three now.” The way he says it piques my interest.

  “Is she the one you were telling Hope about? The one you hoped was still waiting for you?”

  He steps away from the counter and seems to shake it off. “Yeah, I gotta go.”

  “That’s it?” I holler after him, but he’s telling GA and Hope bye, heading for the door quick. “Scout?” I step after him, catching his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you more when I know more.”

  He seems frustrated, embarrassed, maybe a little angry—all strange emotions from my little brother. I want him to talk to me, but I’ll let him have his space.

  For now, I lean against the doorjamb, watching my pretty wife chatting with my crazy grandmother, thinking what a twisted path led me to here.

  Later that night, Hope is snuggled against my chest. We’re sweaty and satisfied, and she’s tracing her finger along the lines of the new tattoo on my chest. Hold onto hope…

  It’s right under This Much is True…, inked at a time when I only believed in myself. Now I realize how wrong I was, this beautiful girl in my arms changed my hatred to love.

  “They say it’s bad luck to get a tattoo of your significant other’s name.” She props her cute little chin on her hand, blinking up at me.

  Tracing my finger along the line of her hair, I push a silky lock behind her ear. “You’re my wife, and it’s not your name, it’s a reminder. You’re my hope eternal.”

  Her eyes mist, and I cup her cheeks, kissing her gently. “Don’t cry. I want you to be happy.”

  “I’m crying because I am happy.” She blinks smiling, and a crystal tear falls to her cheek. “Hope Eternal Dunne. No more hills.”

  I gather her close, rotating her naked body so her back is to my chest. Holding her in my arms, pressing my lips to her shoulder, inhaling her beautiful scent… It makes all the shit I went through worth it.

  I’ll never get back the time I lost wit
h my son, but Hope is so loving to him, I think it evens the scale. They’re my new family, my new life, and it’s so much better than the old.

  Hope’s dad says a lot of things, but when I asked for Hope’s hand, he told me Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes. He said it was a quote by a female writer from a long time ago, but it feels right now. It feels right always.

  The love we share is powerful enough to burn away the bad. It’s bright enough to guide us home through the darkest times, and it’s warmth melted the ice that had formed around my heart.

  I found my hope eternal, and this much is true, I’ll never let her go.

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading JR and Hope’s story! I hope you fell in love with this quirky, beautiful couple as much as I did!

  TWIST OF FATE is Scout’s story, coming Feb. 22!

  Scout goes away to pursue his dream of Hollywood stardom, and when he comes back home, his old friend (and former fake girlfriend) Daisy is holding a baby who looks just like him…

  It’s friends to lovers, it’s second-chance, it’s small-town, sexy and fun and angsty…

  Pre-Order TWIST OF FATE Today (link)!

  What to read NOW?

  Meet Daisy and the whole Oceanside gang in WHEN WE TOUCH (link) an angsty, single-parent, second-chance romance you’re going to love…

  Keep clicking for an Exclusive Sneak Peek…

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  Stephen Hastings is the hero of STAY (link), an enemies-to-lovers romance about a single mom living in Manhattan who marries her billionaire ex-crush to save her son…

  It’s sexy and fun and FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

  Also available as an Audiobook (link)!

  Keep clicking for a short sneak peek…

  * * *

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  When We Touch

  By Tia Louise

  A USA Today bestseller.

  Jackson Cane is red-hot cinnamon, salt water, and sin…

  He’s the kind of trouble I don’t need.

  He’s the kind of trouble that waltzes into my dreams

  Every. Single. Night.

  Emberly Warren is spicy-sweet seduction.

  My biggest temptation.

  My biggest regret.

  I thought she’d always be waiting for me.

  I was wrong.

  Now I’m back in Oceanside searching for peace, hoping to escape what my life has become.

  She isn’t supposed to be here,

  Dark hair blowing in the ocean breeze,

  Luscious curves barely hidden by thin cotton.

  Memories so hot they burn my mind…

  I didn’t come back for her.

  But when we touch, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make her mine…

  Prologue

  Ember

  Where it begins…

  Jackson Cane tastes like red-hot cinnamon, salt water, and sin.

  When he concentrates, his long fingers twist in the back of his dark hair, right at the base of his neck, and he tugs.

  Tugs…

  Tugs…

  I like to weave my fingers between his and pull.

  Then ocean-blue eyes blink up to mine, sending electricity humming in my veins. He smiles. I smile, and it isn’t long before our lips touch. I straddle his lap as I open my mouth, and his delicious tongue finds mine, heating every part of my body.

  Our kisses are languid and deep, chasing and tasting.

  We sizzle like fireworks on a hot summer night.

  Eventually, with a heavy sigh, I pull away, but hours later my mouth is still burning. I taste him everywhere I go.

  Lying in my bed in the dark room, my heart aches, heavy and painful in my chest. Every breath is a burden. I blink slowly at the ceiling and slide my tongue against the backs of my teeth thinking about hot cinnamon, tangy salt, caramel and sugar, sunshine, and the best summer of my life.

  The instant I hear it, I’m on my feet, tiptoeing to my open window. The low growl of an engine tells me he’s there in the darkness, out on the street in the shadows just past the streetlight.

  The late summer humidity hangs heavy in the air. Cicadas scree from the limbs of the mighty oak tree beside the house. Their damp wings make them too heavy to fly, and the sadness in my chest is replaced with breathless anticipation.

  I’m panting. I’ve never felt this way for anyone, and I’m desperate to hold onto it. Somehow I know I’ll never feel this way for anyone ever again.

  Quiet as a mouse I scamper to my door and listen. The only sound is the hum of Momma’s oscillating fan pushing the warm air around her room. I can’t hear her breathing. I can’t hear anything… except the noise of Jackson’s engine on the street below, waiting.

  Red-hot cinnamon.

  Salt water.

  Sin.

  Pressure tingles around the edges of my skull, and a bead of sweat tickles down the side of my neck, dropping past my shoulder, slipping between my breasts.

  I’m at the window slowly lifting the glass, and I don’t care if she hears me. I dive through the space, out onto the cedar shake roof in my bare feet. I’ll get a splinter if I’m not careful…

  So many reasons to be careful…

  I ignore them all.

  I’m going to him like a siren’s call in the ocean, like the mermaid story in reverse. I’m the hypnotized sailor. He’s the promise of so many wicked pleasures.

  Reaching for the tree limb, I swing my body across the narrow gap two stories high, gliding down the trunk as the skirt of my dress rises to my hips. My bike sits where I left it at the side of the house, and I carefully pull it away, holding it as I tiptoe down the gravel driveway to the street.

  I can’t take a chance on anyone seeing us together and telling my mother. Instead, I dash across the street between the thick beams of his headlights. He flickers them to let me know he sees me, and I plunge into the dark woods, pedaling fast.

  Tires crunch on gravel, and I shoot down the pine needle path leading away from this place, through the tall, skinny trees, all the way out to the barren jetty of sand stretching under the moonlit sky filled with stars, surrounded by the clear blue waters of the ocean.

  It’s our place.

  The place where we’re the only two people on Earth.

  In the summertime, the visitors to our sleepy little town use it to spend the day sunbathing and playing on the wide stretch of undeveloped sand. Now, on the edge of fall, with all the children back in school and Jackson leaving for college tomorrow, we have it to ourselves.

  His engine roars on the road above, and I stand in the pedals to push harder, fueled by the burning desire twisting in my lower pelvis. I want to be with him now. I don’t want to waste a moment.

  I go even faster as the trail slopes downhill. A narrow wooden bridge thump… thump… thumps with the pressure of my tires distressing the aging slats.

  The instant the trees part, I toss my bike aside and run out of the darkness onto the glowing white sand. The sizzle of waves crashing on the shore fills the night, and the black ripples are tipped with silver light.

  Jackson stands in his canvas shorts, his hands in his pockets, and a thin white tee rippling across his back in the slight breeze.

  I’m breathing hard when I finally reach him, and he turns. White teeth in a full-moon night, deep dimples in both cheeks, he smiles down at me, and I feel so small. A lock of too-long dark hair falls over his blue eyes, and my breath catches. He’s so beautiful.

  I swallow the knot in my throat as I gaze at him. What star crossed what planet in what solar system and said I could have him, even if it’s only for a little while?

  “You made good time tonight.” His vo
ice vibrates the warm air between us.

  I force a laugh, moving to him until my hands are around his waist. My forehead rests on his chest, and I inhale deeply. He’s leather and soap and a deeper, spicier scent that’s pure Jackson Cane.

  He feels so good in my arms.

  His mouth presses against my head, and I lift my chin, reaching for his face. He leans down and claims my mouth, warm lips pushing mine open. I kiss him eagerly, curling my tongue with his, threading my fingers into the soft, dark hair falling around his cheeks, tugging.

  An aching moan rises in my chest as he lifts me off my feet. Chasing his kisses, my mouth burns with cinnamon, my core tingles with need. He carries me to our place, a little shelter near the water’s edge where an enormous log is slowly turning to driftwood. We lower to the sand, me on my back, him on his knees looking down at me.

  My dark hair is all around us, my skirt is up around my waist. My panties are far away on my bedroom floor. A soft hiss comes from his lips, and he slides a finger down my center. My eyes flutter shut.

  “Jackson…” I whisper. I love you I love you I love you…

  He leans down to taste me, his tongue lightly tracing the line between my thighs, and my back arches off the soft sand. My body takes flight on the motion of his mouth, kissing me so deeply, tracing a pattern over my most sensitive parts.

  The first time he did this to me, I didn’t understand. I’d been embarrassed by how fast my body responded, the way I shook, how wet it was between my legs when the shudders subsided.