Honeysuckle Dreams

by Denise Hunter

  And Brady . . . He was such a great guy and a wonderful father. How could she stand by and let the Parkers take Sam away from him when there was something she could do about it?

  “Brady, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” She meant it, she realized. He’d become such a dear friend the past couple years.

  “That’s really sweet, Hope. But I could never ask that of you.”

  She’d wanted marriage and family for a long time now. Even though she was a career woman, some part of her deep down longed for that home of her own, complete with husband and kids. She’d thought she had that once. But it had been ripped away from her.

  But how could a marriage to Brady work when she was planning to take a job in Atlanta in October? She’d have to move, and he couldn’t move his business. But maybe there was a way to work around that. And what could possibly be more important than Sam?

  “We should at least think about it,” she said. “There’s too much on the line not to.”

  “I believe in the sanctity of marriage, Hope.” He winced. “Despite the fact that I’ve got one divorce under my belt. I don’t want another broken marriage, and I sure don’t want to be your enemy. Not ever.”

  She squeezed his hand. “That will never happen.”

  “Things can get pretty crazy in a marriage—trust me.”

  “That’s because you were married to Audrey. You and I—we’re both fair, reasonable adults. We get along great.”

  “I’m not going to let you sacrifice your life on my behalf. You deserve a real marriage.”

  “It wouldn’t be a sacrifice. I’d be getting plenty in return. You know I want to be married and be a mom—”

  Brady seemed to take in her words. Then he gave his head a shake. “This is crazy. Marriage is hard enough when it starts with love.”

  “We do love each other.”

  He gave her a droll look. “You know what I mean.”

  “Maybe it’ll be easier this way. Did you ever think about that?”

  Without so much emotional risk. Without the possibility of losing someone you depended on more than your next breath. The more she thought about it, the more comfortable she felt about the whole thing.

  She’d experienced deep loss, and so had Brady. She sure had no desire to go through that again. And though she’d been dating, trying to find that someone special, a part of her recognized that she pulled away whenever things started getting serious.

  “Let’s just pray about it,” Hope said. “There’s no need to rush here. It’s a big decision.”

  He gave her a pointed look. “It’s too much.”

  She nudged his shoulder with her own. “Let’s just sleep on it, all right? What could it hurt?”

  “You’re going to wake up in the morning and realize you were having a moment of temporary insanity.”

  “Maybe so. But there’s a lot at stake here. So we should at least give it the consideration it deserves.”

  His eyes drifted to Sam, who was on his back, pulling his feet to his mouth. He babbled, his sweet little voice ringing through the room.

  Brady gave a sigh that seemed to come from deep inside. “All right. Let’s pray about it.”

  He swiveled his head, locking eyes with her for a long moment. His blue eyes were the color of worn denim and just as soft as they peered at her. There was warmth and affection in his gaze. A tender caring that made her want to stretch toward him like a sunflower reaching toward the sun’s heat.

  She suddenly realized how close they were. Only a breath away. An odd flutter stirred in her belly as the moment drew out between them.

  “You’re a good friend, Daniels,” he said softly.

  His words warmed her from the inside out. “Don’t you forget it. And no matter what we decide, I’m here for you every step of the way—and so are Zoe and Cruz. Just hang in there, all right? God’s got a plan in all this. We just have to trust Him.”

  chapter seven

  When Brady awakened the next morning, the sun was flooding through his curtains. He checked the time on his phone. Almost eight o’clock.

  He groaned. He never slept past seven. Especially since Sammy normally woke at six on the dot. Worry niggling in his gut, Brady crawled from bed and went to the nursery across the hall.

  The room was dim, lit only by a nightlight, but he could see Sammy on his tummy, his diapered butt pooching into the air. The baby’s back rose and fell rhythmically.

  His boy was fine, sleeping soundly. He left the room, the weight of yesterday settling over him like a lead cape as he descended the staircase. The judge’s words, his attorney’s advice, his conversation with Hope. He ran a hand through his short hair.

  Downright crazy. What had they been thinking?

  By now Hope was awake and getting ready. She was due over here at nine. No doubt she was feeling the same way about yesterday’s talk. She was probably dreading coming over. Feeling like she was going to be letting him down or something.

  He’d put her mind at ease. It was the least he could do. This was his problem, not hers. He hadn’t even put much prayer into it last night. To be honest, he’d drifted off right in the middle of it.

  He set up the coffee machine, toggled the Brew button, then sent Hope a text.

  Temporary insanity officially over?

  That should break the ice. Help put her mind at ease. He shook his head as pieces of their conversation from the day before played in his mind. He’d never thought of himself as impetuous. Besides the one night when he’d gotten Audrey pregnant—or thought he had—he was the embodiment of logic and reason. But he supposed distress had a way of bringing out the foolish in a person.

  That was the week his grandma had let it slip that his birth mom was in town. And Brady, being a glutton for punishment, started thinking she had come for his birthday. The next night he got wind she’d already left; she hadn’t even bothered to look him up. It really messed with him. It felt as if he’d been abandoned all over again. He’d impulsively hit a bar in Ellijay and done something he’d promised himself he’d never do—he’d gotten skunked. Audrey’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

  He’d made a foolish mistake. And on one account he was so sorry. On the other, he couldn’t bring himself to regret bringing Sam into his life. His eyes locked onto a photo of the baby he’d stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet. His goofy little smile and sparkling eyes got him right in the gut. Yeah, he was definitely a desperate man.

  He got out a mug and poured some cream into the bottom as the coffee finished brewing. A moment later, as he reached for the carafe, a text dinged in. He checked the screen.

  Nope. It’s still hanging around.

  He frowned at the screen for half a minute without blinking. He hadn’t expected this. Before he could respond another text came in.

  It might just be a permanent condition.

  He pressed his lips together, still shaking his head.

  Hope.

  He clicked on Send with more force than necessary, frowning at the phone, his heart beating erratically.

  We’ll talk when I get there, okay?

  Fine.

  He set down his phone and decided to enjoy a hot cup of coffee before Sam woke up.

  By the time he heard Hope pull up outside he’d changed and fed Sam. Brady normally loved mornings, when his little guy was bright-eyed and babbling. But today he was distracted, thinking about the conversation to come.

  He carried Sam with him as he went to open the kitchen door. Hope was just walking up the steps of the stoop.

  She wore a sleeveless black top and shorts that showed off her long, tanned legs. Her hair was up in a sloppy ponytail that made her look younger than her twenty-four years and cute as a button. She wore no makeup that he could tell, which made her wide, green eyes stand out. She could have any guy she wanted, it seemed to him. Why the heck would she settle for a marriage of convenience? And his convenience, at that.

  Their gazes locked for
a long moment.

  “What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “’Cause you were supposed to regain your sanity overnight.”

  She leaned in close to kiss Sammy on his cheek, and her light perfume wrapped around Brady as she swept past.

  “Now, now, that wasn’t our agreement,” she said as she dropped her purse on the counter. “We were supposed to give the matter some prayer. Do you have time to talk now, or do you want to wait until after work?”

  The Audi R8’s clutch could wait. He was tired of feeling so unsettled. “I have time now.”

  She’d already moved over to the sink and started rinsing this morning’s bottle. “Okay, so let’s talk. What exactly are your objections to this arrangement?”

  Arrangement. He gave his head a shake. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Start anywhere you please.”

  Sam squirmed to get down, so Brady put him on the living room rug with one of his toys.

  “Listen, Hope, I’m not worried about me. You know the mess with Audrey put me off dating—and that was before I even knew she tricked me into thinking I got her pregnant.” He scrubbed his face, mumbling to himself, “Idiot.”

  “You are not an idiot.” She closed the dishwater and turned, crossing her arms.

  After his bad judgment with Audrey he didn’t trust himself to make a good decision where love was concerned. But he’d known Hope forever. And he trusted her. Really trusted her.

  “I don’t exactly have my whole future planned out,” he continued, “but I was thinking love and marriage might be somewhere in my distant future. Possibly. But you . . . You deserve the real thing, Hope. True love, happily ever after, all that.”

  She held his gaze for a long minute, her eyes going soft and maybe a little sad.

  She was thinking about Aaron, he realized suddenly. And though he hadn’t known her very well back then, he knew Aaron’s death had been life-defining for Hope. She never talked about it. Never talked about him. That right there said a whole lot.

  “I had love once, Brady. Maybe I was only a teenager, but it was the real thing.”

  “I know you did. It was a terrible thing you went through.”

  Her eyes locked on Sam, but he didn’t think she was seeing the baby. Her gaze was distant, in some faraway place that filled her with grief.

  “It was really hard, losing him, you know?”

  “I get that.” No one understood what a risk love was until they’d been wrecked by its loss. “But you’re young, Hope. Only twenty-four. Plenty of time to mend.”

  “Yeah, but—I don’t think I ever want to go through that again.”

  “We’ve both been burned, in different ways. We’re both understandably skittish to take the leap a second time.”

  “Maybe even downright opposed to, if I’m honest. I think I push men away. I’m starting to see that.”

  He studied her, remembering things she’d said in the past. Things his sister had said. “I thought you wanted love and marriage. Kids.”

  “I do, but . . . there’s a reason I haven’t found it yet—mainly all that pushing. But honestly, how many times can you expect to find true love, huh? And ever since we talked about this last night . . . the whole idea of building a life with someone I love and respect as a friend has settled around me in a good way. A really good way.”

  Brady walked across the room, putting some distance between them. Between her logic and his resistance. He ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected her to make so much sense. When she talked about a marriage between them it didn’t sound crazy at all, it sounded . . . practical. Even appealing.

  He stopped at the picture window and stared out at the distant mountains rising from the morning fog. He couldn’t believe this was starting to sound logical to him. That he was starting to feel this arrangement with Hope was a legitimate idea.

  But he didn’t want any misunderstandings between them. “Just so we’re being perfectly clear, you’re actually relieved by the chance to have the things you want . . . marriage and family, without all the rest.”

  Her chin notched up. “Yeah, I guess I am. Maybe that makes me a big ol’ chicken, but it’s the way I feel. And I already love Sam, Brady. I hope you know that.”

  “I do. You’d be a great mom to him. That was never in question.”

  His gaze returned to the landscape, unseeing, praying. This was a big decision. No question, he’d do whatever was necessary to keep Sam. But he was trying not to be selfish here. Trying to think of Hope—what kind of a friend would he be otherwise? Could he trust himself to be objective about this when he had so much on the line?

  But she seemed to want this. She had her own reasons, and they seemed to blend seamlessly with his. But still . . .

  “Hope, I feel it’s only fair to warn you . . .”

  “What?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

  “I don’t think I’m very good at . . . at being a husband.”

  She waved him off. “Phfft. I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “Audrey could’ve given you a long list of all the ways I failed at the job.”

  “And I wouldn’t have believed a word of it. Brady, I don’t know anything about your marriage, but I know you as a person, and there’s no way you were a bad husband.”

  “Thanks for that.” He wanted to believe her. Maybe Hope would bring out the best in him. Audrey sure hadn’t. But that was probably a cop-out.

  He felt Sammy at his feet. The baby was on his back, slapping at Brady’s foot and looking up at him with a toothless smile. “Da, da, da, da!”

  Smiling, Brady scooped him into his arms, and Sam grabbed his lips, pinching.

  Hope approached, standing beside him. “So . . . does that mean we’re on the same page here? It sure sounds like we want the same things.” She lifted her slender shoulders. “Who’s to say we can’t have our own kind of happily ever after, you know?”

  He looked at her with fresh eyes as she poked Sam in the belly, eliciting a drooly smile. Imagined that she was his wife, the mother of his child. That they were a family. That he had a partner in this world. Someone he could champion. Someone he could count on. He’d never had that with Audrey.

  But marriage comprised more than a tidy arrangement between two people. Marriage came with intimacy—at least it should. It came with sharing confidences, sharing a commitment, sharing . . . a bed.

  This was an area they’d yet to touch on—but it was a big one in his book. Was she expecting some kind of sexless marriage? His gaze roved over her face, seeing not the friend he’d known for years but the beautiful young woman who was proposing a future with him.

  She had beautiful eyes, large and green, with a warmth in them that made a person feel like she was really listening. When she smiled, that wide, trademark smile, she lit up a whole room.

  And below the neck there was not a single deterrent.

  He envisioned living side by side with Hope, day after day, week after week, year after year. Envisioned the intimacy of sharing life without the benefit of enjoying that intimacy to its fullest. Envisioned years of sexual frustration.

  He was no saint. True, his libido had been nonexistent lately, but he couldn’t sign up for that indefinitely. Not when he was married to such a beautiful, feminine woman. A woman he legitimately loved and trusted and respected. Maybe he was a pig, but he couldn’t see that working too well for either of them.

  “Brady?” She questioned him with those big green eyes.

  He blinked, realizing he was staring at her, probably like some perv. He tore his eyes away. Palmed the back of his neck. His skin was hot, and sweat had broken out on its surface.

  Sam reached for Hope, leaning toward her, and she took him from Brady’s arms, freeing him to put some distance between them.

  Hope watched Brady cross the room. He moved with a masculine grace she could only admire. There was confidence in the line of hi
s shoulders, in the length of his stride. He was a man who could take care of himself. A man who could take care of his family.

  But something was bothering him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He faced her, stuffing his hands into his jeans pocket, giving her a look she couldn’t quite make out. “Since we’re actually giving serious consideration to this . . . I think it’s important we be clear with each other about what this is—and what it isn’t.”

  “Managing expectations.” She nodded. “Very important.”

  He shifted. Moved to the coffee table where he’d set his coffee. Took a sip. Set it back down. He scratched his head.

  “You seem like you have something specific on your mind.”

  “Yeah.” He scrubbed his hand over his jaw. “I was just wondering . . . What about . . . you know?”

  She arched a brow. “You know?”

  He gave her a flinty look. “Yeah, you know.”

  Hope’s lips twitched. She wasn’t squeamish about the topic. It had come up regularly on Living with Hope.

  But seeing the flush rising from Brady’s collar, she couldn’t resist the urge to tease him just a little. “You mean sex? Are you talking about sex, Collins?”

  His cheeks flushed. “Stop saying that word.”

  He was kind of cute when he was shy. “If you can’t even talk about it with me, how do you think we’re gonna . . .”

  He leveled her with a look.

  She laughed, the flinty look completely incongruous with his blushing. “Okay, okay, fine. I guess I hadn’t gotten that far. What are your thoughts on the subject?”

  Brady gave a gruff laugh. “You have to ask? You’re a gorgeous woman and—”

  “Gorgeous, huh?”

  “—I’m a man.”

  “I had noticed.”

  “That’s encouraging.”

  “But while you might be a man, I, my friend, am a woman. We tend to move a little slower in that area, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I think I’d need a little time to . . . get used to the idea. Settle into the relationship. We’ve been friends a long time. To my way of thinking, that requires a shift in thinking.”