A Discovery of Hope (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 3)

by Lowe, T. I.

  “JP—”

  “I took the blame that day, saying I had too much manly muscle for him to hang onto.” He chuckles with no amusement.

  I’m not sure what took place in this field, but I do understand Bradley undoubtedly lost his life due to it, and JP feels it’s his fault. “Don’t you think he would feel the same about this accident if he could tell you?”

  JP shakes his head. “It was a stupid accident. One that haunts me.” He cups his hands together for me to see, resembling the photo of his palms. “I have his blood permanently stained on my hands.”

  “You said it, JP. It was an accident.” I place my hands in the midst of his and he instantly surrounds them with his long fingers.

  “I thought I had finally gotten a handle on it a few years ago. I begged God to take it from me, and I’m fairly certain He did. The nightmares subsided and I felt like I was finally able to live. Then last year I witnessed another tragedy, and it all came back with a vengeance. I’m right back to fighting with the nightmares and guilt.” He releases my hands as his composure crumbles, like the weight of the guilt is too much to bear.

  Sobs tear loose from his chest in agonizing wails. The throb of my own emotions is overwhelming and I can barely swallow from witnessing him in such acute agony. I’ve never seen another human in this much pain. With JP being such a strong man, it devastates me that much more. I don’t know what overtakes me, but I have a crushing desire to pull him out of this misery that has rendered him completely broken.

  I don’t think, just act.

  In a flash, I’m kneeling in front of him and am pulling his shirt over his head. This seems to awaken him from his state a bit, but not much. I can’t take it any longer, so I lunge forward and bite down on his shoulder with all my might until I feel the odd give of his skin under the attack of my teeth. I feel him flinch away from my mouth in surprise and pain.

  The sound of him sobbing cuts off immediately, as though the bite snapped him out of the nightmare. There’s no doubting he was sitting here reliving the entire tragedy again.

  “Willow,” he grunts out as he gently pulls me back and holds me slightly away from him. His blue eyes are wide with shock and confusion over my action.

  “Life inflicts pain, JP. You have to let the scar of it heal so you can move on.” I touch my fingertips to the angry bite-mark indenting his skin. Small red dots of blood are faintly seeping from the wound. “Although life inflicts pain, it can also heal, if you allow it… Love can heal you.” I lean cautiously forward and place gentle kisses over the bite-mark. This seems to release a whole new round of sobs from him.

  Before I can blink, he has me pinned to the dirt in his strong grasp and is abruptly attacking me with frantic kisses. The kisses feel desperate and afraid just as they did that night I comforted him after his nightmare. Teeth are colliding and we are clawing at each other in such a visceral state. It’s a raw assault of love and comfort, and I find myself sobbing right along with him.

  We roll around, me on top, him back on top as we consume each other. His hands try tugging at my shirt a few times, but I bat them away. The kissing continues until he tries for the zipper of my shorts. Again, I bat his hand away. Eventually he buries his hands deep in the soil while he kisses me, I guess to help stop them from roaming. With the rawness of this moment, I know I have to keep it in check so that we don’t take things too far. I feel wild with the need to care for him… To protect him from his pain, but have enough wits to keep us in control.

  It’s odd how this man’s weakness and need makes me stronger and protective over him.

  With bodies trembling, we clutch each other closer as we continue the wild assault. I yank my hands through his hair aggressively, releasing a growl from his lips. It feels as though we are wrestling with some inner war with both of us winning in some aspects as well as losing. It scares me yet exhilarates me all the same. Uncontrollable sobs, loud ravenous kisses, and moans ricochet around us as the world fades for a spell, leaving just me and this broken man—revealing bitter scars and urging them to finally heal.

  A cloud of thick dust kicks up and billows around us as we struggle with all these fervent emotions. Never have I had such acute sensations of anger and desire and pure love battling together. They all slam into me at once in vicious tremors and sear a fever along my skin.

  No words are exchanged, only the exhibition through touch is needed. I feel possessed, knowing I’m close to teetering right off this flimsy edge of control I’m desperately holding on to. I push him away when my desires become overwhelming, only to pull him back once I catch my breath.

  This tug-of-war continues until JP seems to not be able to take it any longer and pushes away from me. As soon as his lips are ripped away from mine, I miss him and feel an instant void. He scoots over a row from me and buries his face in his dirt-stained hands that are propped on his knees.

  The only sound echoing around the field is our frantic breaths. I keep my distance and try to calm myself as I watch him closely. Licking over my tender lips, I feel bruised and exposed and completely alive from it. I want to scream at the top of my lungs from all of the feelings rippling through me.

  Eventually, our breathing returns to normal and JP pulls his shirt back on. As we stand, I notice we are both covered in the black soil. His face is masked with it except for the thin lines his tears have tracked down his cheeks. I try brushing the dirt off my arms, but it’s clinging to my skin for dear life. We are definitely a sight.

  JP clears his throat a few times as though he wants to say something, but seems to give up trying. Instead, he gathers my hand in his. With one last glance at the spot we just wallowed in, JP walks us back down the dirt road.

  Well… At least I have given him a new memory with the field. I’m not so sure if it was a better one, but at least it’s a different one than he had. I saw the fire in his eyes as he looked in our spot and not the other area of the field—and that has to be something.

  As we reach the Jeep, Duke pulls up in his truck. He rolls the dark tinted window down and stares at us in surprise. “What in the heck happened to the two of you?”

  Without pause, JP launches into an elaborate story. He keeps his red swollen eyes averted from Duke’s worried ones as he says, “These punks just jumped out of nowhere.” He looks over to the thick patch of trees by the road and motions in that direction. “Came rushing out of the woods while we were taking a walk. They roughed us up a bit… Tried stealing my wallet…” JP points at me. “Willow here went all mad psycho chick on their a—.”

  “Tails!” I interject. Duke slides his skeptical gaze to me, but quickly looks back to JP as he continues to spin his story.

  “She even bit the fool out of one of ‘em. You find one with a bite on his shoulder and we’ll have the thief.” JP sniffs.

  I blink in shock at how this tale spilled out of him on the fly.

  Duke shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “I should have known better than to even ask.” He rolls his window back up and drives off.

  We stand here and watch the truck disappear around the curve in the road.

  “Guess he didn’t buy it,” JP mutters with a shrug.

  “Not even a little. He knows you too well.” We both burst out laughing and the tension of the afternoon fades away. We laugh until my sides hurt.

  JP drives to his beach house, but pulls me straight to the ocean once he parks. “The salt water is the only thing that’s gonna get this mess off.”

  Kicking our shoes off, we dive right in with our shorts and T-shirts on. Once we are hip-deep, we start working our hands over our skin and hair with the hopes of loosening the gritty dirt.

  “Lift your chin. You got tater patches under there,” JP says as he wades closer to me. I do as he says and he starts rubbing his fingers along the length of my neck.

  “My grandpa used to say that,” I comment as he keeps washing the salt water under my chin.

  “You say that sadly.”


  I look over and find him watching me. “He passed away a few years ago.” I shrug lightly as I rub some water over his earlobe that’s still holding onto the dark mess.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “I sometimes wonder if that’s why my mom lost her mind and left us. She seemed to struggle with losing her dad.” I avoid his eyes while trying to pick the dirt from under my nails.

  He knows my mom just remarried, but he doesn’t know any details to the end of my parents’ marriage. Today seems to be a sharing day, for sure.

  “I can imagine. I lost my dad a few years back. One of the toughest things I’ve ever dealt with. Then my mom packed herself up and moved to Florida shortly after.”

  “Oh, so your mom sort of lost it, too?”

  He plunges under the water and scrubs his hands through his hair before reemerging. Wiping the water out of his eyes, he answers, “Nah. Let’s just say her divine calling was never motherhood. I’m cool with her moving. It brought my sisters back to me, so I’m thankful.”

  JP heads to the shore so I follow. When he sits on the edge of the water, he reaches up and pulls me into his lap. With me happily nestled in his arms, we talk awhile about nothing in particular, my fall classes, his upcoming shoots, and it feels like I’m really starting to know this man.

  The sun is tiring and the beach is practically empty as we continue in our little bubble. I’ve opened up even more and told him all about my abrupt major change and how my parents’ divorce stings, but I’ve kept the accident to myself. I’m just not ready to share that.

  Eventually we fall silent, and I get lost in those baby blues of his. JP leans in and begins a long, tender kiss—completely opposite from the one we shared in the field. I wrap my arms securely around his neck and become lost in it until I hear someone clear his throat. Looking up, I find a handsome dark-haired man with is hands casually shoved in the pockets a pair of loose shorts. With the wide grin he’s wearing on his tanned face, the stranger seems quite amused.

  “You know we live right next door,” he says to JP in a rich yet quiet voice.

  “Yes, Lucas. So what?”

  Chuckling, the guy looks back towards a Spanish-style beach house and nods his head. “Savannah is loving the show. As well as Duke and Sammy. The boys have a bet going about how far you’ll take this on the beach.”

  “That’s why I moved to Charleston,” JP grumbles. I cannot help but giggle.

  Lucas extends his hand towards me. The only thing remotely dry is JP’s hair, so I dry my hand in his locks the best I can and shake his brother-in-law’s hand.

  “Lucas,” he says quietly. His subtle voice is low, yet has a presence. It’s a drastic change from what I’m used to with JP and Duke. Those two practically bark in their rough voices no matter the mood.

  “Willow.”

  “I’m Savannah’s husband. She and Duke do nothing but speak highly of you. I’m guessing JP is quite smitten with you as well.” He looks at JP smugly.

  Sighing, JP pats my thigh and starts to stand. “Show’s over,” he grouches out and starts walking us down the beach. I hear Lucas chuckling behind us.

  We walk a ways down the coast until we reach an old dilapidated building with a sign hanging crooked that declares this place The Beach Shack. JP heads us towards the entrance, but I try to stop him.

  “We’re damp and dirty and barefooted.”

  “This crowd won’t care,” JP says over his shoulder as he continues to pull me inside. He walks us past the tables, the counter, the register, and straight into the kitchen like he owns the joint. “Jarrette! I’m starving, dude!”

  A short barefooted guy with a long bushy beard wipes his hands on his apron as he turns away from the grill. He inspects us both with pinched bushy eyebrows. “You two look like you been rode hard and put up wet.”

  “Close—” JP starts, but the guy cuts him off with a raised hand.

  “JP, I ain’t got time for one of your tall-tales. You want two shrimp burgers and a pile of onion rings.”

  “You got it. Thanks man,” JP says as he backs us out of the kitchen. “We’ll be on the patio.”

  Jarrette throws his hand up in acknowledgement as he starts battering plump shrimp, causing my mouth to water. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.

  JP walks us over to the waitress station and helps himself to two teas. The waitresses say nothing about him intruding in their space. They just say hey and wink at him as they pass by. I wonder how many hearts he’s broken, or at least toyed with, in Bay Creek. He hands me my tea and we find a vacant table on the patio outside.

  Jarrette bustles out pretty quickly with our food and we dive in immediately. The savory, greasy food is heavenly. Fried shrimp piled high on a toasted bun with a substantial amount of coleslaw is outrageously good. It’s salty and sweet and crunchy and soft all at the same time. My taste buds are all accommodated in just one bite.

  As the unrushed meal continues, I prop my feet on JP’s lap and begin lazily nibbling on a fat onion ring. A thought keeps whirling around in my head, and so I end up blurting it out. “Who’s the property owner of the field?”

  This question takes him by surprise. He’s mid-bite on an onion ring himself when he places it back on the plate. Oh shoot. I didn’t mean to make him sad again.

  “I am,” he answers quietly before taking a long sip of tea. “I purchased it a few years back.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “The land is cared for considerably. Almost reverently.” I nudge his thigh with my foot before resting it back on his lap to get him to look at me. “You should consider doing something with it to honor Bradley.”

  He seems to be considering this as he picks the onion ring back up. I find that to be a good sign.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  I shrug my shoulder. “It’s a good size piece of land from what I can tell. I don’t know…” The idea materializes out of thin air, but I feel in an instant that it’s the right answer. “Maybe a fine arts camp. You’ve said you two did everything together. I bet he was creative, too.”

  JP nods his head. The breeze has picked up in the early evening and is tousling his blond hair all around. I appreciate the view behind him of the sun setting and how the sky is painting in rich oranges and purples, wishing I had my camera. I stay overwhelmed with the need to capture him on film nowadays.

  “That he was. He reminds me a lot of Duke. He liked to draw…” He stops to clear the emotion from his throat. “You know, Willow, I think that’s a mighty fine idea. You think you could help me with it?”

  There’s no holding my smile back, as I watch his blue eyes light up with what I’m sure are ideas already coming to life. “I would love to help out.”

  “Wow…” JP shakes his head, grinning.

  “What?”

  “That’s just… Willow, it’s such a great idea. I can’t believe I’ve never thought of it.”

  I drop my feet from his lap and reach over to hug him. I whisper in his ear, “It’s time we look at that field in a different light. One that Bradley would approve of.”

  He actually laughs and it warms me all the way to my bones. “I’m sure he would have gotten a kick out of what happened there earlier.” Now we are both laughing as I cling closer to him. He groans and it vibrates through my chest. “I’m in so much trouble.”

  ~~~~~

  By the time we make it back to the beach house, it’s dark and I’m exhausted. My clothes are stiff from the dried salt water and I’m in desperate need of a long hot shower. JP gives me a quick tour of his two-bedroom bungalow before ushering me and my bag to the guestroom. The house is surprisingly neat and tidy for a bachelor pad.

  He offers me another salty kiss at the threshold of the room. I start to back into the room, but he pulls me closer for another lingering kiss. He seems reluctant when he finally lets me go.

  “Lock your door, Willow,” JP says in a husky voice as he back
s away.

  I’m a bit confused by his request, but obey it and head to the shower.

  Once I’m washed and dressed in a long nightshirt, I snuggle into the bed and am instantly aware I have company. I look beside me and find Hope lying on the other pillow staring at me with a smile.

  “Today was beautiful.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t know what overcame me. I can’t believe I bit him.”

  “I think you proved a much needed point. John Paul needed to know he can be healed of that scar, if he allows it.”

  We lay here in silence for a few beats, listening to the ocean meeting the shore just outside my window. It’s so peaceful and my eyes are starting to get quite heavy when Hope speaks again.

  “You humans have such a blessing when it comes to love.”

  “I’m not so sure if I totally understand love,” I mutter before yawning. It has been one long day.

  “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” Hope quotes 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. I know all of these verses because I was a Bible Drill student and always scored perfect in competitions. I love how those verses I’ve memorized will always be tucked in my heart. Thankfully, my brain injury didn’t steal them from my memory.

  “Willow, I think you understand it better than you realize. I’ve witnessed you sharing the sweetest form of love with this man. You should share these verses with him.”

  I roll over on my side facing her. “Then he would know I’m in love with him.” As I admit this out loud, I recognize just how true my words are. I have fallen completely in love with JP Thorton, and it scares me. “I don’t think either one of us is ready for this yet.”

  “Love is patient,” Hope reminds me. As she says this, I hear the Jeep crank up and pull away.