by Diana Gardin
He planted his lips back firmly against hers but stilled when her hands found their way to his chest. She pushed slightly, and he pulled back, looking down into her eyes and panting slightly.
“What is it?” he asked in a breath.
“What are we doing?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
He stared at her, and the red haze of desire finally cleared a little. The beautiful woman in his arms was everything he’d ever wanted, and everything he’d spent his life trying to avoid.
He gently lowered her to the ground and leaned back to stare at the stars, muttering a curse into the sky.
“I feel like I should lie right now,” he said. “And tell you I’m sorry. Do you like men who lie, Hope?”
“No,” she said steadily. “I don’t. But…I’m not available, Reed.”
“But you said that—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I don’t mean I’m taken. I’m not. I’m just not available.”
She pushed off the wall and began walking away from him.
It took all of two seconds of watching her walk down the road for his brain to catch up to the situation. He was relatively certain he wouldn’t survive losing her like that. Not now that he’d touched her. As crazy as it was, he needed more of Hope. So much more.
“Hope, wait,” he called, jogging to catch up to her.
She continued to walk briskly, and now she was angrily brushing at her eyes.
“Hey.” He reached out to grab her hand. “Stop. Talk to me a minute.”
She whirled to face him. “I’m not sure why you did that, Reed. I’m not sure why I let you.”
“Shit,” he answered with honesty. “I have no clue, either. But I’m glad you didn’t stop me. And I damn sure ain’t sorry I kissed you. There’s something between us here. Don’t run from it.”
“I’m not running from you.” She ran an agitated hand through her hair, and he momentarily lost his words.
“Then what are you running from?”
She stared at him fully, and he found himself wanting to reach out again and pull her into his arms. He wanted to do anything he could to rip that haunted look from her eyes, to twist the sad angle of her mouth. And it was another unfamiliar feeling he’d never encountered before.
“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”
Before she could turn away from him again, his big hands encased her face. His gentle touch contrasted with the way he kissed her: hard. He conveyed the strange emotions warring inside him with his lips, and when he pulled back, she blinked rapidly to compose herself once more.
“I want to know everything there is to know, Hope.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
And this time, there was nothing he could do to stop her from walking away.
Seven
He kissed me, Morrow.” Her tone was incredulous, her hazel eyes a perfect blend of green and brown today. She stared at Morrow in open bewilderment, as if she couldn’t imagine why Reed Hopewell had done such a thing.
A few days before her birthday, the story about Tyler and Reed had finally spilled out. Hope had begged Morrow not to retaliate against Frank for not protecting her better, and he’d reluctantly listened. He’d been livid about Tyler, but more than curious about Reed. When she’d been unable to answer his questions, thus limiting the information he could gather about Reed, he ultimately dropped the subject.
Morrow whistled low. “And you liked it, apparently.”
“Dammit! I knew he was going to, I could see it in his eyes. And in my head, I was going to stop him. I was! I don’t know what the hell happened. It’s those smoky eyes of his, all deepest-blue and expressive.”
She hung her head in her hands while sitting in her office at the Center, the Monday immediately after her birthday night out at the Charleston business owners’ banquet. Her desk was clear; she kept it impeccably neat and organized, and she had a nice clean space to lay her head.
“Um…maybe you were thinking that you like the dude? He’s a good guy because he might have saved your life? Maybe you wanted to kiss him?”
And then she was sobbing. She cried like a blubbering baby, and embarrassed didn’t even begin to cover how she felt about it.
Morrow wrapped his arms around her from behind and pressed his chin into the top of her head. Her body was wracked with heaves she was unable to control, and he held her steady.
She looked at her friend with wide, wet eyes. “What the hell am I going to do?”
Frank carried a strict no-boyfriend rule for all of the girls he employed in his club. The clients wouldn’t like seeing the girls around town with an actual boyfriend. The club members paid a very high price to date single ladies. Not to mention the fact that an actual boyfriend would probably raise hell when he found out what exactly it was his significant other did to bring home the bacon after a night at work.
She had seriously considered what Reed had been offering the other night. What was wrong with her? She’d never entertained the idea of having a boyfriend before. With everything going on in her life, drama with a man was the very last thing she needed. She had a younger sister to take care of, a very demanding day job, and an even more demanding night gig. Her life was full to the brim in every respect, and Reed Hopewell didn’t fit into any of it.
Not to mention the fact that that man was going places. The way he sang, it was just a matter of time until he was on to bigger and better things outside of Charleston. What would she do, hope to the stars every night that he would take her and Violet with him? She couldn’t afford to be that kind of girl. She made her own way.
So, Reed and everything he had to offer her was out of the question. Thinking about a relationship with him was beyond premature, in any case. It was a pure, animal, chemical attraction that drew them together. She didn’t know him. She certainly couldn’t ever love him. She had no prospect of ever loving him, or anyone else for that matter.
So, that was that.
And she was going to forget all about him. Him and his sexy, muscular body, and those burning blue eyes with the curling lashes, and the plush mouth that had claimed hers so completely. If she was wondering what other parts of her those lips could completely envelop, she wasn’t admitting it.
“I’ve got to get out of here today,” she told Morrow suddenly. “My head isn’t in it. I’m going to go tell Felicia I’m not feeling well and head out, okay?”
Morrow nodded, the sympathy in his green eyes unmistakable. “I got you. Go.”
She shot him a grateful smile, which he returned, and left the building as quickly as her legs would carry her.
Sitting in her car with the day ahead of her, she suddenly found herself stumped. What to do with the time? The last thing she’d ever want to do with an unexpected day off was go home to Frank’s mansion. Her best friend was currently working in the building she just vacated. Actually, everyone she knew was at work. She squinted into the late morning sunlight. Then she put the car in drive, and eased onto the road. She cruised past shops she had no desire to spend money in, and restaurants with southern delicacies she wasn’t hungry for.
She drove around the downtown Charleston streets aimlessly for a while, and once she pulled around a horse and carriage trotting happily on the cobblestone, she zeroed in on an interstate sign up ahead.
A smirk finally found her lips, and she headed for the highway. Pulling into the relaxed-pace traffic, she sailed for the coast. She glanced in admiration at the signature South Carolina palms as she drove. She appreciated the fact that she lived in a state that was known not only for its year-round pleasant temperatures, but also for the beautiful palm fronds currently waving at her from the side of the interstate. If she and Violet ever lived anywhere else, palm trees and access to an ocean would be a requirement.
She smiled with satisfaction at the thought of her and Violet living anywhere else, because anywhere else meant anywhere away from Wendy and Frank. Her expression darkened again as she flashed back to the previous nigh
t.
She’d walked into the house through the garage as usual, noticing that Frank’s car was missing.
“Where are they?” she asked Violet curiously when she’d stepped inside.
It’d been late, after midnight.
Violet, sitting alone at the kitchen table, shrugged. Her eyes dropped to the kitchen table.
“Vi?” she’d asked, rushing over to her sister with alarm. “Who’s here with you?”
Violet shook her head, and then looked up and squared her shoulders. “No one.”
Hope’s mouth had dropped open in disbelief. “No one? Frank and Wendy left you here alone?”
Violet scoffed. “Yeah. And being here alone is five hundred times better than being here with those two psychos.”
Fear had clutched at Hope’s heart. Her little sister had been left alone, in a mansion, at night. When she thought about what could have happened…
An exit sign flashed in front of her vision: NELSON ISLAND, 4 MILES.
Nelson Island? She’d lived in Charleston her whole life and had never actually been to the picturesque town. Too fancy for the life she had lived thus far, and she’d had no reason previously to visit. She supposed she had no reason now either, except for the fact that she had a day to herself with absolutely nothing on the agenda.
She took the exit, grinning widely with pride at her spontaneity.
Driving along the bridge into the town, she experienced what life in a postcard would be like. The ocean seemed bluer here than it did on the waterways in the city, and the gentle arc of the bridge allowed the sails from fishing and leisure boats to reach for the sunlight glittering overhead. The pale pink sand on the coastline stretched for miles, and the beach’s pristine beauty was one of the most breathtaking sights she’d ever laid eyes on.
She ought to get out of Charleston more often. This gorgeous place had been right under her nose, and she hadn’t even known it existed.
She pulled into a beachside lot, grabbing a ticket from the machine at the front, and exited her car, stretching with a luxury she usually hadn’t felt in the summer sunlight.
Her stomach rumbled as she strolled up to a sandwich shop with small tables scattered on the boardwalk, and she smiled at the charming wooden SEAT YOURSELF sign. She did so, tucking her legs under her in the wicker chair and staring out into the water.
“Hey there!” a waitress said brightly as she set down a napkin and glass of water. “Welcome to Blu. What can I get you?”
“Oh,” said Hope. “I’m not sure. This is my first time here.”
“Are you visiting the island?” the young, pixie-faced girl asked her.
“You could say that,” Hope answered with a small smile. “I want a sandwich, though. What do you recommend?”
“Shrimp salad,” the waitress answered promptly. “Best shrimp salad you’ll taste on the coast. You wanna try it?”
“I definitely do want to try that,” Hope answered. “Thank you.”
The girl smiled at her and sashayed away. Hope leaned back in her chair and glued her eyes back onto the horizon. It was a Monday, but the summer season was in full swing, and the beach was dotted with colorful umbrellas and children playing in the sand. The boardwalk around her buzzed with conversation as people in bathing suits and cover-ups strolled by. Couples, families, and young singles seemed to enjoy the beach with like-mindedness. Everyone acted like they hadn’t ever had a care in the world, and Hope soaked up their positivity like a rose in the sunlight.
It wasn’t nearly as steamy here sitting by the ocean as it was in the city, either. The breeze wafted over Hope’s face like a fan, and she tilted her head up toward the sky and closed her eyes with the sheer pleasure of it. Her bare shoulders were absorbing their own dose of vitamin D as she sat at the table, and she was glad for her tank top selection this morning, not to mention her choice of white knee-length shorts instead of slacks. She kicked off her sandals and placed her feet in the chair next to her as she totally relaxed. It was so unlike her, but her current environment was so different from her normal one that she caved to the beach glow Nelson Island offered.
“I was pretty sure it was you, Hope, until I saw the bare feet and the utterly relaxed expression on your face. Now I think I’ve got the wrong girl.”
Hope’s eyes flew open, only to stare into the glare of the sunlight. She squinted, shading her eyes, and her vision clarified that she was indeed looking up at Reed Hopewell.
Against her will, she thirstily drank in the sight of him. The professional slacks and button-up shirt he was wearing fit him like a glove, and she admitted to herself that he wore every look well. His signature boots were present, peeking out from under his pants, and his button-up shirt was missing its top two buttons. An open vest flapped freely in the wind, and she smiled in spite of herself. She glimpsed a peek of his chest underneath, and a lump formed somewhere in her throat.
“Reed,” she squeaked.
She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” The smirk alighting on his face was full of swagger and meaning.
He gestured to the chair beside her, where her feet were currently taking up residence. “Can I sit?”
She gathered herself up, nice and neat again, and rolled her eyes. “It’s a free beach, so I guess you can. What are you doing in slacks and a button-up?”
His eyes flashed. “Oh, so you noticed I’m departing from my normal wardrobe? Does that mean I might have possibly affected the cool and collected Hope?”
She shrugged. “I’m observant.”
“Okay. We’ll play it that way, Miss Observant.”
He leaned onto his elbows, and the icy blue pools bored into her.
“What?” she asked, mentally checking her face to see if there were crumbs strewn across it. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. The breeze next to the ocean was steady, and strands of her hair were constantly being lifted and carried away.
His eyes followed the motion as if transfixed, and then refocused on her face.
“What are you doing here, Hope?” he asked softly.
She gestured toward him. “I could ask the same of you.”
“I live here. And I work here sometimes, too. But I was asking about you.”
“You live here? On Nelson Island? I just assumed you lived in Charleston like…the rest of them.”
His face changed from bemused to amused, and a wide grin lit his face. “The rest of who?”
She gestured lamely. “I don’t know. I guess I was just lumping you into the ‘guys who play guitar and perform at clubs’ category. They all have apartments in Charleston, and all they do with themselves is play and have sex.”
His grin grew with each word she uttered. “That’s very interesting, Hope. Well, I live here. I grew up on Nelson Island, and I have a condo here now. My parents live here, too, and I work for my father’s company when I’m not playing guitar, singing, or having sex.”
His smug smile made her heart quiver in her chest, and she silently cursed her body for betraying her that way.
“Your father’s company, huh? What do you do there?”
“This and that. Mostly, I’m the guy they call when they want to close a big deal.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a confidential whisper. “I think they think I’m a good schmoozer.”
“And are you?”
“Why don’t I let you be the judge of that? Can I stay and have lunch with you?”
The waitress chose that moment to bring Hope’s sandwich out, stopping in her tracks when she laid eyes on Reed. Her face, which was previously friendly with a side of bored indifference, now lit up like a firework on the Fourth of July. She smoothed her hair and bit her bottom lip, and Hope could practically read the girl’s desire for her and Reed to not be “together.”
“Oh, I see you’ve added your…boyfriend to your party?” The waitress’s hopeful expression nearly caused Hope to regurgitate her soda all over the table.
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br /> “Nope,” Hope answered promptly.
Reed’s eyes sparkled. “But, babe, I told you I was sorry about the other night. You have to forgive me!”
Oh, he wants to play? Hope narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t ‘babe’ me! I told you, one more time with that tramp and I was out. This is so over.”
The waitress’s eyes pinballed from Reed to Hope and back again, her jaw falling open.
Reed reached across the table and took both of Hope’s hands in his. “Please, baby. Just let me have lunch with you? So I can explain?”
Despite the sparks shooting up her arms from the sheer touch of the man before her, she was fighting back a giggle. Successfully suppressing it, she blew out a heavy sigh.
“Fine. Lunch, and then we’re through.”
Reed smiled in relief and squeezed her hands gently. Her heart throbbed against her ribs furiously, and the intense blush she felt in Reed’s presence flourished across her face.
“I’ll have a number six,” he informed the waitress without breaking his connection with Hope’s hands or her eyes.
Hope couldn’t look away from him in order to see the waitress’s face, but she would have bet money that it was lower than sea level. She bit her lip against the smile threatening to spread across her mouth.
As the waitress scuttled away, Reed fought against a smile of his own. “That was fun.”
“You are evil,” Hope said accusingly. “You knew that girl was practically drooling over you.”
“I’m just sorry she was the only one,” Reed said cheerfully.
“Who said she was?” Hope shot back, shocking herself into silence.
Reed gave her hands another squeeze before he let go and leaned back against his seat. “So, are we going to talk about the other night?”
“No,” Hope answered, shaking her head. “Not necessary. I already told you I’m not available. It was a nice kiss, but—”
“I’m sorry,” interrupted Reed, his voice low. He leaned forward, a sexy smile on his lips. “Are you saying that kiss was ‘nice’? That’s the word you’re using to describe it?”
“I meant, it was…I didn’t mean…” Hope fumbled for a better word to use but failed epically. Instead, she stared at Reed across the table, cringing at the blazing fire burning in his eyes.