by C. A. Harms
“Beautiful,” the word fell from my lips, and I did nothing to stop it. Actually beautiful wasn’t even a strong enough word.
Hope stood only a few feet away, her hair hung free, long with big waves of silkiness. The way it lay over her shoulders and down her back made me want to reach out and test its softness. She wore a little more makeup than I’d seen her wear before.
Hell, who am I kidding? Every time I’ve seen her she had worn only a small amount of shiny lipgloss and nothing more. I’ve even seen her looking her worst and still found her to be a beauty.
I hold out the arrangement of purple flowers to her and she smiles as she takes them. The smile was the exact opposite of the reaction I got when I gave her the first flower. I preferred this one, as it was one of happiness.
“You look…” The words escape me as I look her over from head to toe. A flowing light pink dress, that actually looked more like a shirt. The shirts that button up the front from neck to bottom. It was loose on her, but not too loose, and she wore a belt around her waist. The dress hit mid-thigh, showing off her legs, and let me just say, she has very nice legs.
A pair of strappy heeled sandals, the strap on each winding up her ankles and tying on each side. The design only enhanced the length and perfection of her legs.
“Maybe you should grab your phone.” I look up and our gaze locks instantly. “Just figured you might wanna take a picture or something.” When she shrugs her shoulders and a smirk covers her mouth, I realize she’s giving me back the same shit I gave her when I caught her checking me out at her house.
“Don’t tempt me, princess.” Her smile didn't falter. “I might take you up on that offer.”
“Just thought I’d save you from attempting to lock the view to your memory.”
“You threw me off for a minute,” I confess. “Who’d guess that those were hidden beneath all the jeans you wear.” I point toward her legs and chuckle. When I notice the smile fall from her face, I suddenly regret my words.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No,” She laughs, but I can tell it’s forced. “Your comment just reminded me of something someone else said to me once.”
I could see the sadness in her eyes, and it pulled at something deep inside me. Her sorrow, it was something I didn't like to see.
“You ready?”
I nod as I step forward and open the door to the restaurant, allowing her to enter before me. Call me insensitive, call me a pig, especially after the moment we just had, but damn it, I checked out her ass as she passed by.
I’m a guy, with an eye for a pretty lady, I admit it.
Chapter 10
Hope
It had been so long since I’d smiled this much. In fact, my cheeks hurt and my ribs ached from the laughter Travis brought out of me. He was fun, he was silly and ornery. It was almost as if he could sense when I needed things to be light and airy. Like he could see right through me and sense the impending sadness looming inside me.
“It took me awhile to get the guys to accept that yes, I was younger than them, but I am their boss.”
I laugh as I picture him handing the guys their uniform shirts. “But pink, really?”
“Hell yeah, with purple lettering and yellow hearts.” He chuckled when I wrinkled my nose. “They gave me shit for weeks after we opened. When I handed them the shirts and told them that if they wanted to get paid they’d put them on and wear them proudly, they knew I held the upper hand.”
“So did they wear them?”
“Yeah, though most wore a flannel or something over it. Besides Hank and Tripp,” I could almost imagine his brother wearing the shirt. He seemed like the type to accept whatever was thrown at him. “He wore it proudly just to spite me.”
“Sounds like a fun group.”
“They are,” he smiles at me, and again my stomach does a crazy little flip thing. That rush of excitement, the thrill of the newness from this budding relationship. “Good guys.”
Our eyes remained locked on one another, neither of us willing to look away. I knew I should, because I still wasn't sure I wanted something more than friendship with this man. The fact that I was here at all with him was a huge step. But I couldn't let go of the feeling that this was right. It was comfortable. Travis brought back things I wanted to forget without meaning to. He made me remember what it was like to be me, before the loss of Walker. The girl that found the humor in everything and smiled often.
I’ll admit, now that she has resurfaced, I sorta missed that girl.
“So what about you?” I look away from him, finally focusing on the pretty purple flowers that lay on the table beside me. The purple ribbon he tied around the stems cinching them together made the arrangement even more special. “What do you wanna do with your life?”
The dreaded adult stuff. I chuckle to myself, and when I look up at him I find him with his chin dipped low, awaiting my response. Apparently Travis had a serious side, too.
“I had dreams once of becoming a veterinarian.” He seems surprised by my confession. “Walker and I always said we’d start our own practice together. After he passed, I think I let that dream die, too.”
“Ever thought of carrying out that dream, in his honor?”
Normally talking about Walker would bring back all the saddened emotions, leaving me feeling raw and empty. There was something about Travis that made it easy to talk to him. His eyes were warm and kind, and he listened so intently. I was quickly seeing that the man I had pinpointed as a cocky arrogant asshole was, in fact, nothing even close to that. He was the exactly opposite actually.
“How close were you to finishing your degree?”
I take in a deep breath, preparing to see the disappointment in his eyes that I’ve found in so many others when I answer his question. “Less than a year.” I avert my eyes concentrating on the half eaten piece of pizza still on my plate. “I just couldn't finish, it was too hard.”
My voice cracks with the words, and suddenly his hand is covering mine as it rests on the table fisting the napkin in my palm.
“That’s understandable, Hope.” I look from the spot where our hands lay joined together and meet his stare. “A loss like that is devastating. It takes such a toll on those that survive. It makes you question everything big and small. The hate, the sadness, even the guilt--it can be crippling.”
I nod because he described in a couple sentences just what I had felt over the last year.
“The two of you had plans, dreams. You should carry out those dreams, for him.”
Tears filled my eyes as I nod. Things just shifted to a heavy place and I should be running. It was what I normally would have done. But again, Travis made it okay. He made me feel like my broken heart was mendable.
“Maybe someday.” I offer him a smile assuring him that I’m okay. The concerned look on his face softened as he squeezed my hand in his. “Thanks.”
“For what?” A nervous chuckle slips from his mouth. It was almost like an unexpected reaction.
“For this,” I say, motioning between us with my free hand. “For tonight, for yesterday, and even last week.”
“Last week I was an asshole.”
This time is was my turn to laugh. “No, last week you were determined, stubborn, and exactly what I needed to pull myself out of the rut I’ve been living in for far too long.”
“Well, in that case, you’re welcome.” His eyes are filled with humor, and just to emphasize that orneriness inside him he adds a little wag of his brows. Laughter falls from my lips and he joins me taking the intensity of only moments ago and once again lightening the mood.
“You’re fun, Travis,” I confess, feeling okay with my words.
“And so are you.”
“Wow.” I look up from the book I’m reading to see my old friend Libby standing only a few feet away. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you, since the funeral actually.” Instantly I can tell she feels bad for saying that.
“It has,
” I say as I lower my book to the table. It had been my own fault for hiding out and pretending the life outside my job and immediate family no longer existed. People tried to remain in contact, but I ignored them. It was my fault they stopped trying, I would have too had I been in their shoes. “How are you?”
She smiles as she takes another step toward me and holds out her hand. A rock the size of Texas shines bright, glistening in the sunlight. “I’m engaged.” She practically sings the words.
“Chris is a lucky man.” The moment I say his name she laughs. A full on belly laugh as she presses her ring-clad hand to her abdomen.
“Chris lives in Michigan with his nineteen year old girlfriend.” I can’t control the widening surprise that takes over my face. “Yeah.” She matches my expression. “After I found out he had a thing for younger girls, I kicked him out, and he shacked up with the first teenager he could find. Since then he’s had four different girlfriends, all ranging eighteen to twenty. At least they’re legal, I guess, but he was such a pig. I should have gotten out of that relationship long before I did.”
She pulls out the chair at the table opposite me and sits down. With a wave of her hand, she motions toward the waitress. When she looks back at me she seems embarrassed. “Shoot, I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”
“Not at all.” I offer her an accepting smile and she instantly relaxes. “So who is the lucky guy?”
“His name is Hank.” She practically glows when she says his name. “He’s a little older than us, so I guess I shouldn’t complain too much about the age difference between Chris and all his conquests.”
The waitress steps up to our table and takes Libby’s order, an unsweetened ice tea and tuna on rye. “I love this place,” she tells me as the waitress walks away. “The service is exceptional, and they can make just about anything taste amazing.”
I nod in agreement because I couldn't have said it better myself. Carmichael’s was one of my favorite places, though normally I’d get it to go.
“So, anyway, back to Hank.” Libby smiles brightly once again. “He’s older by five years sitting right at thirty, and he is adorably sweet. I have never in my life had a man treat me with such kindness, and he’s so gentle.” Okay, maybe I didn’t need details on that area.
“How did you meet?” I’m hoping to lead her away from the gentleness of her fiancé.
“Ever heard of Donovan Electricians?”
My pulse spikes and begins to race as I nod slowly.
“He works for the owner, Travis, and our mothers are friends. They play Bridge together actually.” Again I nod, trying to keep my face void of any true reaction that may trigger any questioning. “Travis was helping my dad with the wiring to the new addition they added on after I moved out. Can you believe they waited until I moved out to expand? I had to share a room with Lonie throughout my entire adolescence, and now they have another bedroom and bathroom.” She rolls her eyes and I laugh.
This was the Libby I remember, easily distracted.
“Anyway,” she waves her hand out to her side, “Travis’ company landed that apartment complex over off Midland, and had to be on site so he sent Hank in to finish the job. We clicked instantly, and though it may only be nine months, when you know you just know.”
“Nine months,” I repeat, still attempting to hide the uneasy feeling inside. The last thing I wanted was to share anything about Travis with Libby. I didn't even know yet how to describe what we were, or what was going on between us.
One thing the conversation did make me wonder about that Travis and I had not discussed, age. It just never came up really. Each of us carried on last night as if we’d shared various dinners together. It was relaxed and refreshing, yet never once did we disclose our age.
“Did Travis go to our high school?” I already knew he was older, but I was fishing for information I knew she could provide.
“He did, but he’s older.”
We pause when the waitress stops next to our table to place her ice tea before her while also bringing me a fresh lemonade. We each thank her as she walks away.
“So he’s Hank’s age then?” I don't look up at her when I ask the question.
“He turns thirty in a few months, so yeah, they are close in age.”
I nod, still keeping my eyes focused on my half eaten sandwich. I thought I had pulled it off until I look up to find her smiling at me knowingly.
“You know him, don't you?” Even though I could tell she had figured me and my antics out, I still tried to deny it. “You are such a liar, and you used me to gain info on him.”
She narrows her eyes, trying to seem offended, only her smile trumped the glare.
“Okay, fine, I know him.”
She slides her chair in closer and rests her elbow on the table, linking her fingers together to place her chin upon them. She wasn't going to let this go.
“He did some wiring in my house, we grew extremely annoyed with one another, and since then we've come to a happy medium. We’re friends, but I never asked any details about him.”
“Oh honey, I have all the details you need, and some you may not want.” She lifts her chin and begins to rub her hands together eagerly. “What do you want to know?”
“Nothing really.” This seemed wrong.
“Liar,” she challenges me, causing me to laugh. Again I feel so different than I had only a few short weeks ago. Laughing no longer led immediately to sadness from the guilt it caused. “Come on, get nosy, I’m giving you permission to pry into the life of Travis Donovan.”
Did he know about the willingness of Libby on sharing his personal business?
“It feels wrong of me. I should just allow him to share what he wants.”
“Here’s the thing.” Did I mention Libby was pushy? “Travis is not Mr. Innocent, and anyone out there could tell you about all his extracurricular activities. Of course, most would add on a few extra details that aren’t true. Especially if you get them from any of the scorned females of his past.” My eyebrows lift in curiosity and she giggles. “Wouldn’t you rather hear them from me, instead of being blindsided in the supermarket after the two of you get serious.”
“We’re not getting serious.”
“Okay, whatever you say,” she says dismissively. “But just so you know, he is a very sweet guy with a heart bigger than most men. He loves his family, would do anything for them as well as his friends. The guy is genuine and kind. He may have a past with a long history of women, but they were never women he planned on sticking with. We all have needs, ya know.”
Needs, yep, I know what those are. I’ve had my own, though I’ve placed those on the back burner for a long long time. I’m no virgin. I’ve had a couple partners over the years, but I know deep down I was always holding out hope that Walker and I would end up together. Now, since he’s been gone, the urges just aren’t there.
“Well, like I said, we are just friends.” I think I say it more as reassurance to myself than Libby. It doesn't go unnoticed that she still doesn't seem the slightest bit convinced. But instead of going back and forth with her, I go back to eating my sandwich, and change the subject to Hank.
She quickly becomes sidetracked, and I’m lost once again in my own thoughts. Four years difference between Travis and I wasn't bad.
Wait, what am I thinking? Friends, that is all we are, who cares how old he is?
Chapter 11
Travis
I sat in my office, staring at my cell phone as if I had some type of telepathic power. I wanted it to ring, no, I needed it to. I had never been this torn up about the what to do involving a girl, a woman in Hope’s case. I usually just made the call, made the moves, and never thought twice about it. With her I had to tread lightly.
Which leads me to my current situation, where again I am staring at my darkened phone screen.
Over three hours ago, I drove twenty minutes out of my way, both ways to and from, to leave a purple flower and a note on her windshield.
I felt like some crazed maniac creeping on a girl as I quietly climbed from my truck and moved across her lawn before the sun had even fully risen.
The note was my phone number actually, just beneath the words, Have dinner with me?
By now she should have seen that note, so why hasn’t she called?
I should be working, hell, I should be doing anything but sitting here wasting time. Staring at the device would not make the damn thing ring.
And then it does, making me practically jump out of my skin, dropping it to the floor in the process.
I lift it to find that it is Tripp’s number and ugly face on the screen. I almost throw it across the office in frustration. With a few deep breaths, I slide my finger across the phone and bring it to my ear. “What?”
I’m instantly graced with his deep chuckle. “Little brother is cranky. Still waiting for a phone call?”
“Fuck off, Tripp.”
My aggravation only makes his laughter grow louder.
“It was the clown clothes, man. I tried telling you.” He loved giving me shit, but now wasn't the time. “I tried telling you that you looked ridiculous, but you didn't listen.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“Aren’t you?” His quick return throws me for a loop, and instead of coming back at him, I remain quiet. “Midland’s done.”
Letting all irritation go, I lean forward in my chair and press the phone tighter to my ear. “Completely?”
“Yeah.” Again he chuckles. “It’s payday, brother.”
I smile but say nothing, because payday didn’t cover it. In the history of Donovan Electric, this was the biggest job we’ve ever landed. It was havoc, and it was a fucking headache dealing with this douchebag investor, but it was worth it. I’m talking more money than my company has made in all last years’ jobs combined.
“I’ll call the prick so he can bring in his inspector.”