Healing Hope

by C. A. Harms

  It looked like tonight wasn't just about me continuing to break down the walls of Hope, it was a celebration, too. In that moment, I realized there was no one I would rather be celebrating with, either.

  “Are you sure you have everything you need?” I hung my head and pinched the bridge of my nose tightly between my fingers. “Because I can be there in less than five minutes, and we can whip through whatever else you need.”

  “I got it, Ma.” I’m gonna beat Missy and Tripp for filling her in on my evening plans. I know they did it to torture me, and they were both now laughing in spite of my misery. My mother meant well, but the woman had been trying to marry me off to every eligible woman in Kansas City for the last five years. Hell, she had even gone outside the city a time or two.

  She was eating this up.

  “What about her favorite dessert?” There was a pause. “You did fix dessert, didn’t you?”

  Again a pause, which led to an emptiness in my stomach.

  “I’m on my way.” Panic set in.

  “No, Ma, really, it’s--”

  Only she didn't let me finish. She hung up the phone, and I imagined her rushing from her house with a handful of something she would use to create a miraculous dessert. My mother had a knack for the fastest, tastiest desserts.

  But her coming meant she would most likely be here when Hope arrived. Then it hit me, that sneaky woman. She planned this. Some form of secret attack, and she used sweets to get her in.

  A soft knock on the door confirmed what I already knew, Hope had arrived. And my mother was on the way.

  Drying my hands on the dishtowel, I toss it to the counter and hurry toward the door. When I jerk it open I again find myself in awe, just as I was the night outside of Romano’s. She was breathtaking. A soft flowing top in a shade of green that only seemed to make her eyes stand out. Capri pants, and those heeled sandals that gave her a few extra inches. As if that wasn’t enough to take my breath away, she wore her hair down, too. Big ringlets of curls hung around her face and over her shoulders.

  “You look amazing.” She smiles at my compliment.

  “Thank you.” She held out a bag, “I brought you something.”

  “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

  “Oh, I think I did.” There was a gleam in her eye, and suddenly I knew that whatever it was in this bag was pertinent to our developing relationship.

  Peeking inside I saw something bright pink, with what appeared to be lace.

  “Lingerie.” I wag my eyebrows and she laughs.

  “You wish.”

  She had no idea.

  Reaching inside the bag I pull out the contents and instantly begin to chuckle. “I thought you could wear that while you cook and think of me.”

  Her smile was wide and full of mischief.

  I held the gift outstretched before me and read aloud. “Kiss the Chef.” I peek around the apron and arch a brow. “I’ll wear this if you promise to do as it says.”

  “Maybe I will,” she tosses back, not missing a beat. This side of Hope, the carefree side, was a welcome change. I love seeing her like this.

  I lower the frilly apron and take a step closer to her. “Maybe we should practice first, ya know, so I know if you’re able to hold up your end of the bargain.”

  With a slight tilt of her head, she looks up at me and instantly wets her lips with her tongue. Reaching out I hook her waist with my arm and pull her closer, bringing my lips closer to hers. Her breath hitches and I find I greatly enjoy her shock.

  “What do you say, Hope, you wanna show me how willing you are to practice?”

  She doesn't respond, only nods as I lower my lips closer and closer to hers. The moment they touch, I am jolted out of my haze by my mother’s shrieking voice.

  “Travis Tate Donovan, you take that girl inside before you manhandle her.” Hope spins around, and in the process stumbles over her own feet. I grab for her in order to steady her and pull her into me once more. Her hands were on mine as if she was attempting to loosen my hold, only I refused to let her.

  “By the way, my mother is stopping by,” I whisper near her ear just as Ma climbs the three stairs to my porch.

  “Well, you sure are a pretty one,” she cooes. “No wonder my Travis is smitten with you.”

  I smile wide, but Hope can’t see me.

  “Let’s get inside, you two, I have a dessert to whip up.” She moves past us and just before she steps inside, she turns back to look over her shoulder. “Call me Maryanne.”

  “Hi,” Hope says nervously. “I’m--”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I know just who you are.” Ma winks as she continues inside my house. Hope instantly spins in my arms, and the horrified look on her face makes me laugh.

  “She’s crazy, she’s nosy as all get out, but she is the sweetest woman. Don’t fear her, she gets a whiff of that and, princess, you’ll be in a whole heap of trouble.” I link my fingers through hers, and before she could argue or attempt to run away, I drag her through my front door into my kitchen.

  No way was I letting her run away now. Not only would I be losing out on something great, Ma would kick my ass, too.

  Chapter 14

  Hope

  I could see the uncomfortable look on Travis’ face, and I found it thrilling. He was always so confident, so put together and in control. You throw his mother in the mix, and he gets all flustered and wiggles around like he has a pack of fire ants roaming around in his pants.

  It’s great.

  “He was my daredevil.” Maryanne sat across the table from me, dessert long made. She was settled in, showing no signs of leaving, and I was enjoying the stories she was sharing. By the sour look on Travis’ face, he wasn’t.

  “I couldn't tell you the amount of times I patched up elbows and knees, I just know it was a lot. The thing with Trav was he’d fall, wipe out like no other, and he’d brush it off and wanna keep going. Blood and all, it didn’t faze him. There was this one time though, that he had to quit.”

  “Ma,” Travis warned, and I knew it had to be a good story for him to attempt to stop her. Good as in embarrassing, and something I may be able to use against him later.

  “Oh, please, do tell.” My coaxing her along earned a narrowing of Travis’ eyes as he attempted to intimidate me. “In fact, I say we stay here all night sharing every possible story you can think up.” I almost laugh at the way his mouth falls open in shock maybe. His eyes widen and he looks between his mother and I before shaking his head in disagreement.

  “This is the last one,” he states for clarity. “Dinner is ready, and now that we have dessert…” I don’t miss the way his gaze drops to my chest and a grin tugs at his mouth. Suddenly I’m feeling less like I wanna know humiliating stories, and more like wanting to be alone with him. “Though after this one it may take awhile for you to stop laughing, and then I’ll be working on rebuilding my ego.”

  “It’s that good, huh?”

  His mother giggles when he hangs his head and covers his face. “It’s just something I choose not to remember or talk about. A boy at the age of thirteen should never feel that type of embarrassment.”

  “Ms. Mitchell was only trying to help.” Maryanne tried to keep a straight face, but I can see the humor in her eyes.

  “The guys teased and taunted me about that for years.” Travis leaned against the counter with his hip and ran his hand over his face. “Tripp still gives me hell about it.”

  “She was a nurse,” his mother retorts.

  “Yeah, like twenty years prior to that event.” Travis’ earlier look of frustration had only grown. His cheeks were reddened, and I sat back and watched it all unfold between him and his mother. “She was ninety-three years old.”

  “She wasn’t thinking of anything, but making sure to put pressure on the wound.”

  His eyes widened and he throws his hands up in the air.

  “Damn it, Ma, I was thirteen, things like that happen. It had nothing to do with her, plu
s,” he looked toward me and then quickly looked away mumbling the rest, “her hands were cold.”

  At that moment I had a pretty good idea of what had taken place, or how it ended at least.

  “Travis had jumped a ramp the boys built on the property between our house and the Mitchells.” Travis slowly walked out of the kitchen and toward his living room, shaking his head. “When he landed his jump, his foot slipped on the peddle, and he came down pretty hard before rolling. Being boys, they hadn’t cleaned up any of their mess from building the ramp, so when he rolled along the ground, he landed on a nail sticking out of one of the boards.”

  I shiver at the thought, though I continued to listen with eagerness.

  “Ms. Mitchell saw the whole thing, and in true, retired nurse fashion she came out of her house as fast as her little old legs could carry her.” I imagined a little old lady in a walker shaking and moving across a front yard. “When she saw the blood on Trav’s pants, she insisted she look at the damage.”

  “Where did the nail get him?”

  I was completely invested in this story, leaning forward, my elbows resting on the table. My eyes were locked on her, and when hers widened before they shift toward my lap, my own grew wide.

  “Oh.”

  Just one word. It was all I could say as I look away from her and toward the living room. Travis was already moving in our direction.

  “It wasn’t there,” he argues, “it was my leg.”

  “The crease of your leg, entirely too close to a main artery.”

  “It was a scrape, Ma, but that woman insisted I drop my pants right there in the middle of the yard in front of everyone.” He stops just in the arched doorway to the kitchen. “Then when I hesitated, she hollered for her old Henry, and you know that guy scared the hell out of all of us.”

  “So what did you do?” Again, like I said, I was fully invested. Like biting my nails, sitting on the edge of my seat, intrigued.

  “I dropped my pants,” he said with a shrug.

  “And his boxers came, too.” His mother snickered.

  My eyes widened a little as I imagine Travis as a young boy standing in the middle of his friends and two older people, fully on display.

  “Then?” Come on, people, don’t leave me hanging. No pun intended.

  “It didn't even faze her that there I stood before her with my junk hanging out for everyone to see.” Travis sounded completely horrified. “She just dove right on in there, inspecting me and shit.”

  “Because she is a nurse,” Maryanne clarified behind her laughter.

  “Was, Ma.” Travis shook his head completed defeated by this topic. “She was a nurse, long since retired.”

  “A nurse never loses their instincts.”

  Travis’ eyes widen as he looks at his mom. “No, but she must have lost her eyesight, or at least for the most part.” I press my lips in a tight line fighting my own laughter. “She got all close, and hell, I could feel her breath on my,” he motions toward his manly area and damn it, I lost it.

  “Yeah, ha ha, real funny.”

  I tried, oh my hell, did I, but it was impossible.

  “You were a young boy.” Maryanne tried to regain control but she, too, couldn’t hide her smile. “It is perfectly normal to, ya know.”

  Oh, this regained my full attention as I look over at Travis with very curious eyes. For a moment we had what I would call a staredown. Neither of us willing to look away.

  “Ya know,” I say with an arch of my brow. He, of course, continued to stare refusing to give me this last bit of information I needed to finalize this story. “What happened, Travis?”

  His eyes narrow, and the only thing it manages to do is make my pulse quicken with excitement.

  Maryanne leans further, and I’m not sure why she does it, but she whispers the answer to my question. “My little guy got excited and his body reacted.”

  “Oh my hell, Ma.” Laughter breaks out once more, deep laughing that made my ribs hurt in response. “I was not aroused because she was touching me, it was a natural reaction from a teenage boy.”

  “I know.” Maryanne holds her hands up in the air before her in surrender. “I understand.”

  “Well, no one else did, I heard how I got a hard on over Ms. Mitchell for years after that. Tripp used to tell everyone I loved older woman, just as Ms. Mitchell. It was hell.”

  Poor guy did look mortified, but I couldn't help it, I lay my head onto my hands that rested on the table and laughed harder than I had in over a year. It felt amazing, refreshing, and I’ll admit, I felt lighter. Like the weight of the guilt and sorrow I had been living with for far too long was suddenly a little less crippling.

  Dinner was amazing, dessert was, too. Travis and I enjoyed it all on the back patio of his home overlooking the flowers that grew along the back portion of his property. It wasn't a large yard, but larger than my own. He said his mother and Missy planted it all, because he needed a little color in his life. I had to agree, it was beautiful.

  The entire yard was surrounded by a privacy fence to block out the neighbors behind and give him solitude.

  A light breeze continued to blow in from the South, and the air began to feel a little chilly. But I refused to admit it, I loved it out here.

  When I felt something drape over my shoulders, I looked behind to find Travis standing there. “You looked cold,” he provided me a small blanket. The same one I had seen thrown over his couch earlier when I first entered his home. “Unless you wanna go inside?”

  I shake my head and he smiles. “I like it out here.”

  “I thought that’s what you’d say.” He sits down in the chair beside me and moves it in a little closer. “Which is why I decided to just grab the blanket on my way back out.”

  He cleaned up dinner, refusing to allow me to help.

  “With the exception of my mother’s need to bring up bad memories from my childhood,” I cover my mouth with my hand and he nudges my shoulder with his own. “Tonight was actually a pretty great night.”

  Looking to my right, I offer him a smile. “Yes, it was pretty great, but I truly enjoyed story time, too.”

  With a sideways glance, he offers me his cute smirk.

  “What? It’s funny.” I shrug, looking back toward the yard, my smile growing even wider.

  “Really though, I enjoyed this.” Travis adds, “I’m not ready for it to end.”

  My pulse quickens, and though I want to look at him, I choose not to. I had to admit I wasn’t ready to have it end yet either.

  “What would you say if I asked you to stay for a movie?” It was then I looked at him.

  “Depends.”

  “On what?” he asks.

  “What movie would it be?” I suddenly felt as if my second question may be a little too forward on my part, but I went for it anyway. “Two, will there be some kissing, too? Because there should always be kissing.”

  For a moment he only looks at me. I’m sure shocked by my number two. I lick my lips, taunting him, but it felt like such a rush.

  Without any further pause, Travis reaches out, cups my cheek, and brings his lips to mine.

  Forget the movie, this is good.

  Chapter 15

  Travis

  “She told her about Ms. Mitchell?” I nod before leaning in to take a bite from my burger. “And she didn't run out the door screaming?”

  I glare up at my brother, who sat across from me at Ryder’s Burgers, where we were having lunch. The asshole was loving my misery.

  “No, in fact, she later asked if she could see my scar.” It wasn't true, but he didn’t know that.

  “So she is not at all freaked out by the idea that you get turned on by women that are old enough to be your great grandmother?”

  “Fuck off, Tripp.”

  The Dick was the cause of many years of me being teased and tormented. He joined in when our group of friends would tell older women jokes and call me a cougar hunter. I knew it was only allowed
because they were our friends and they knew the real story. Had it been someone outside of our little circle, Tripp wouldn’t have allowed them to make comments to me. He would have whipped their asses in return.

  “Seriously though, how did it go with Hope?”

  I smile, thinking back to my evening with Hope. We never actually made it to that movie, but we did make-out like a couple of teens on my back deck for close to an hour. I swear I can still feel her lips on mine. It was harder than hell to keep my hands from roaming north and exploring the mountains and valleys.

  Fuck, I could feel myself growing hard at the thought, and had to quickly fight off the images in my mind. That’s all I needed, another embarrassing moment for Tripp to witness.

  “Things went well.” He didn't look pleased with my response, but it was all he was getting. He doesn't share details of him and Missy. My stomach rolls at the thought. She is like a sister to me, that was something I didn't need to know.

  “You gonna see her again?”

  “Definitely,” I say, unable to hold my smile back any longer. “She asked me this time, which has to mean something good, right?” It was true, I was just about to ask Hope when I could see her again when she stepped closer and slipped her hands around my waist. Looking up at me, she asked me inside.

  Tripp grinned, looking actually happy for me.

  “We were supposed to watch a movie last night, but didn’t make it that far.” Again, I offer a small amount of detail. His brow arches in interest and I ignore it, moving forward. “So tonight it’s dinner, and then we’re going back to her place for a movie.”

  “Porn.” He said the word a little too loud, and it echoed across the restaurant. He didn't seem to mind that he had gained a few glares, or in the case of the two girls sitting across from us, smiles.

  “You should definitely pop in a porn.”

  “I am not playing a porn.” He was something else. Did Missy know what a perv her husband was?

  “I do for Miss all the time.” I feel my stomach roll a bit. “She loves ‘em.”