Stormy Surrender (New Hope #1)

by Nicole Andrews Moore

  They both felt it. He motioned with a nod of his head for her to lead the way to the back yard. On the way through the house he picked up a blanket that looked to be the same one they had used the night before. And then he grabbed the flashlight on the counter. He passed her the blanket as he set to work re-igniting the fire that they had started the night before.

  Soon enough, it was just as they were when they had left off. They were lying on the blanket, intertwined. Their legs were tangled his hand was knotted in her hair. His spare hand was kneading her flesh, pulling her shoulder closer, pressing her against him. They were in complete accord. They couldn’t get close enough. Soon his hands were under her shirt. And though she expected him to fiddle with her bra, struggle with the hooks like most men would, he instead, opened it with a snap. Literally. He snapped his fingers as he unhooked it. He had one breast cupped in each hand as he kissed his way down her throat. It was all about feeling in that moment. It was all electricity and desire. The kissing, the fondling, the nibbling all grew more insistent. She never wanted it to stop, never wanted this moment to end. He was propped on his side, having pushed her onto her back. And though it was all of forty degrees out, with the fire burning and crackling beside them, and with his body providing a remarkable amount of heat, she was toasty warm. And tingly. So very tingly. It was an epiphany, her ‘aha’ moment. This is how love was supposed to feel. Even though this might only be lust, she would much rather experience it once than never at all. Since she was already thirty-five, there was a possibility that if she didn’t take this moment, this opportunity, she might never get to again.

  This was not an experience to be missed. He had stopped playing with her nipple. He had been squeezing it and twisting it in such a way that she was about to beg him to end her misery, to yank off her pants, rip off her panties, and take her right there on the blanket. His head dipped out of sight momentarily as he began to suck on her hard hot bud surrounded by dark peach areola.

  It was all too much. If they didn’t…if he stopped…she would need the longest coldest shower in the history of Hope House. That was the truth of it. She was hot, burning hot. She was going to go right up in flames.

  Had they not been so distracted with one another, they might have heard the distant sound of metal grinding, the squealing of a faucet being forced on. They might have heard the water as it rushed down the hose. Instead, they were suddenly engulfed by steam and smoke. There was the hissing of vapor and they were being doused by water.

  Joe jumped up swearing. “Damn it, Miss Gracie! What do you think you are doing?” He rushed over to her and took the hose from her hands to turn it off.

  While he did that, Marti lay there stinging from the pain of the experience, the cold, the unfulfilled longing. She was in agony. And clearly they were not going to finish anything now. She was upset for so many reasons.

  She saw that Joe was trying to hurry back to her. She knew he could tell that she was anxious and eager to leave. She had picked up the blanket and was shaking it out, folding it and waved to him as she headed back into the house. The disappointment and embarrassment were overwhelming. She just needed to go back to Hope House. Maybe Keely would still be up. Maybe there would be chocolate cake in the fridge. And with that she set the blanket down on the kitchen table, continued to the front door and headed to her shiny new car.

  She hadn’t driven half the block before her phone was ringing. She knew it would be him. “Hey, Joey,” she said quietly, serenely.

  “Hey, Marti,” he said. She could hear him walking around, the frustration in his voice.

  “So, what’s up?” She tried to laugh off the situation, but they both knew it was futile.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It had this really great night, and then it all…went up in smoke!” His voice sounded playful once more.

  “Smoke? You don’t say?” She giggled.

  He laughed, a sexy throaty laugh. “And you know what they say, right? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” He let out a growl. “So, tomorrow?”

  It was going to take her a day or two to recover from this. “You said you have to work. And that’s probably wise. I have furniture I’ll be bringing back from Vermont with me and I need some place to put it. I don’t want to rent a storage unit. It seems silly, just like it seems silly that I have a house here, but have to stay in a room that is costing me $200 a night.” She was silent a moment as she waited for him to say something.

  “Well, then I guess I really need to get that house ready for you, huh?” From the noise she could tell that he was scratching his head, messing up that gorgeous thick ginger hair that not so long before, she herself had been running her fingers through.

  She sighed as she recalled in vivid detail that breathtaking experience that promised to be so special before it fizzled out. “Yeah, I guess you better.” She really didn’t have anything left to say. Maybe it was better that some things were unspoken at the moment. “Goodnight, Joe.”

  She hung up on him. She didn’t even wait for him to say his goodbyes or goodnights or sweet dreams or anything. Part of him wanted to call her back. The other part wanted to just storm over to Hope House and finish what they had started. Only this time, there would be no senile old woman who doused them with a hose. There would be a bubble bath in her swimming pool of a tub. There would be wine. At Hope House there was always wine. Then again, if Keely knew that he was there, there might also be a flaming hot poker to the rear. She had threatened him with similar before, and for far less critical offenses than sleeping with a still sort of married woman.

  Instead he cleaned up around the house. He wandered around the empty rooms and decided to look at the place like Marti had seen it. It was clean. It was neat. It was barren, devoid of any décor, the most hopeless home in all of New Hope. Fucking, Finn. He had been thinking of her far too much lately. Far far too much. If only she had never sent that text. If only he wasn’t finally starting to feel something for some other woman.

  He wandered into his bedroom, stripped down, and took a shower to wash the stench of the ruined bonfire from his hair and body. And then fresh and clean once more, he towel dried his hair and went to the bedroom to pull on clean boxers, shamrocks on a blue background and sleep pants. Then careful to not think about anything else, he dropped into bed.

  Sleeping in was something decadent that Marti had not allowed herself to enjoy for many years. It was a waste of precious time, and a waste of her talents and spirit, she believed. Of course, that was back when she thought she had talent. Now…she had her doubts. Joey would be working all day. They seem to have finally agreed on that at least. And that left her to once again try to figure out how to occupy her time in this teeny tiny town. Maybe they had a library. She was about out of books on her Kindle. And because the internet was spotty at best unless she went to Charlotte, or until she installed it at her home, it would just be easier and might be a nice change of pace if she read books the old fashioned way.

  Suddenly, in her mind, she had an image of the kind of day she could have. It was nice enough to sit outside and read. She knew just the place to do it. She had been eyeing the gazebo for some time. Now she would have an excuse to sit in it for hours. She could get some books, pick up some food from Laurel, maybe a baked good or two. She was feeling better the longer she considered how to keep busy. It was perfect.

  Having showered the night before, she simply styled her new hair. And after that, she took the time for makeup because…well, she only had this one chance to make a good first impression. And since she was going to be in this town for the unforeseeable future, she should make an effort. Back home, the librarian had been one of her best friends. Sara Johns knew what she liked and often had books pulled for her before she even had a chance to ask. There were so many things that she missed about home.

  She glanced out the window, saw people coming and going, saw the familiarity and the friendship. New Hope had much to offer. Minutes later she was galloping down the
stairs and headed out the door. Truth be told, she might have been avoiding Keely just a bit. That woman had an amazing ability to sniff out the happenings in town. For all she knew, crazy Miss Gracie had already alerted the town that not only was there another fire in Joe’s back yard, but that he had been about to have sex with Marti. She was pretty certain had fate and Miss Gracie not intervened, she would have slept with the second man of her entire life.

  As she passed the town square, she saw marble steps that drew her attention. They could only belong to a government building. And while that could mean a court house, she was still cautiously optimistic that instead, she would be standing in front of shelves of books, smelling the unmistakable scent of slightly dusty stacks and moldy paper and too many piles of newsprint. She skipped up the steps, ready to make a new friend. That would help her immensely at the moment.

  An hour later and five books heavier, she had her very own library card and enough reading to occupy her for days. That was just what she planned. She walked straight to Laurel’s from there and placed an enormous to go order.

  “Just you?” Laurel asked suspiciously, as she loaded the bag.

  “Just me,” she responded, trying not to sound as glum as she was currently feeling. Feelings. That was the biggest part of her problem. She had them…for Joe. And she wanted to explore them. Everyone she knew had already or probably soon would advise against it. That was not what she needed to hear. She needed to find just one person to talk to, to share these thoughts and feelings with. And there was no one. The one person she could talk to without recrimination was the one person she wanted to talk about. It was…frustrating.

  As she pulled out the first of two sandwiches she had ordered from Laurel on those thick slabs of homemade bread, she contemplated her life. Now seemed just as good a time as any for such an endeavor. How had she come to a stage in her life where she was thirty-five years old and had no friends? She had acquaintances galore. She was well liked. None of that was the same as having a best friend.

  Then she remembered…it was Blaine. He never liked any of her friends. He pushed more and more people away. And for reasons that she no longer understood she thought that if they could have this life, if they could just be happy together, it would all be worth it. Only now, since it had all gone south, just like her life, it didn’t make a lot of sense. She should have stood up for herself. She should have insisted upon working outside of the home, instead of limiting herself to the countless hours of volunteer work with various charities that she had completed, used to fill the void where time with her husband should have been. She couldn’t change the past, but she still had plenty of life to live. She still could have a happy future. She could choose to be happy.

  Feeling both better about her decisions and full, she selected the first book from her bag and began to read. It didn’t take long for her to get immersed in a story. This time, it was A Janet Evanovich novel. Stephanie Plum was at it again...blowing up cars. The men in her life were once again coming to her rescue. For some reason, Stephanie never really had to choose. If she was Stephanie, it would have been Ranger, the dark dreamy mysterious guy. Of course, she wasn’t. Her problems were different and real. Her feelings were out of control and confusing. Read. Don’t think! She reminded herself again and again.

  It was time to give Laurel another chance to come around. He was mostly staying away from Marti. He wasn’t with her today. For now. If he had his way, he would be later. As he opened the door, Laurel saw him. She stopped what she was doing, which seemed to be frosting a cupcake, to speak with him.

  “That looks amazing,” he commented. “You make the best chocolate cupcakes. I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Don’t waste your breath buttering me up, Joe Masters,” Laurel said angrily. “I know!” And she waved the spatula at him for emphasis.

  He leaned back. She couldn’t possibly. Could she? He watched as Laurel walked very purposefully over to the triple sink in the back. She grabbed the sprayer that dangled from the ceiling and pointed it in his direction with a wicked look on her face. Oh yeah. She definitely knew. He swallowed hard. “I’ll come back some other time?”

  “Don’t bother. As the proprietor of this establishment, I reserve the right to refuse to serve anyone I want.” She folded her arms over her abundant bosom. It wasn’t just a threat, it was an edict.

  He backed out of the café and turned. It was a gorgeous sunny day. Not only was he not having the chance to enjoy it like the couple throwing the Frisbee in the square or Marti eating cupcakes and reading in the gazebo, or the guy walking his dog… Wait! Marti was right over there! And he was dying to see her. He glanced back over his shoulder. Oh, what the hell? Laurel was already mad at him. What difference would this possibly make?

  He crossed the road and headed straight for her. She was oblivious at the moment, completely lost in her book. There was a slight smile on her face like she was really enjoying what she was reading. The way the sun was filtered through the trees and hit the highlights in her hair was just…perfect. More than anything, he wished he could just walk over to her and slip his arms around her, haul her up against him, and kiss her like he hadn’t seen her in far too long. It felt like far too long.

  As he closed the distance, he could tell it was some sappy romance novel. There was some half naked man on the cover looking all sexy. He smirked. Apparently women liked that. This was their porn. And with just three more steps, he was beside her.

  “Hey, sexy,” he said in a voice that he hoped would stir up memories of the night before. He leaned close to look over her shoulder. “What are you reading?”

  Lost in her book, Marti jumped at the sound of his voice. “What are you doing here?” In an instant she was a ball of conflicting emotions. She was thrilled to see him, but didn’t want to be. She was uncomfortable because she didn’t know how to act after the night before. And she had been so determined to stay away from him today and let her pride heal that she felt completely guilty about everything.

  “I went to the café,” he said. And then his face turned serious.

  “Bad meal?” She questioned.

  “No meal,” he responded. “Laurel refused to serve me. She had already heard about last night.”

  Well, that cinched it. She was mortified. Great. “I just bought a house and now I want to move.” She shook her head.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He just looked at her.

  “Oh, so this happens often?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “What? Laurel refusing me service?” He thought a moment before answering. “Nope. I’ve lived in this town for a good three years and not until you moved here did she start refusing to feed me. She used to go out of her way to give me treats.” It appeared he was nearly salivating as he remembered the past. “She makes the best chocolate cupcakes.” He sighed.

  Watching him, she took pity, just like so many women before her had. “Here.” She shoved a bag toward him. “You can have it.” And she knew that she wore a contrite look on her face. It was, after all, because of her that he had started having problems. This was his town and she had wrecked it for him.

  “What’s this?” He asked as he peeked inside the pastry bag. “Yes! Thank you.” And without even thinking, he leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Must be he liked that one enough to do it again…because he did. In fact…he did it again and again. It was wonderful.

  Her lips felt all tingly. It was a nice surprise. And in her mind she started rewriting a children’s book. If you give a man a cupcake, he’s going to want to kiss you for it. And if he kisses you…

  Her eyes flew open. If he kept kissing her and they were alone, they would eventually finish what they started. And where would that lead? Only, before she had a moment to truly contemplate that…the ramifications of that choice…who knew what would happen? She knew what was predicted. She had been told time and again that Joey was not meant for keeps. He was fun. Still, right now, there was nothing she needed mor
e than fun. She glanced at her wrist. Happy memories. She needed those, too.

  When she looked up at Joe once more, he was savoring the cupcake…in three large bites. She had never seen anyone eat so quickly in all her life. He was licking his fingers and beaming. Wow. That cupcake made him super happy. For some reason, she vocalized the first thought that came to mind. “If a cupcake can make you that happy, I can only imagine what you look like after sex…” As soon as she spoke, she wished she hadn’t. She looked down. She could feel her face coloring and she imagined it must be as red as it was hot.

  He reached down and cupped her face. “Thanks, babe. That was perfection. So, you gonna be my cupcake hook up?” He leaned close to her. She could actually feel the heat coming off of his body and she welcomed it. Then she heard someone calling her name. Apparently Joe had, too. One minute he was next to her. The next minute he had disappeared.

  She glanced about. “Joe?” She looked around. She heard a crashing sound. “Joey?” And before she could peek over the edge of the gazebo, Laurel was just feet from her.

  “Marti, I thought I saw you out here. You just enjoying the day, hun?” She looked about conspicuously.

  “Yup. Just sitting here reading.” She lifted her book as proof. “So what’s going on?”

  “Oh, I thought I’d offer you more to drink.” She stood there with her hands on her hips. “Are you alone?” Here eyes had narrowed as she eyed her suspiciously.

  “Just me and my book…” She said. And all the while she wondered what had happened to Joe.

  “Okay, well, I’ll get you a refill on your drink. You planning on staying out here long?” Laurel had already started to walk back to the café with Marti’s to go cup.

  “I haven’t really given it much thought. I just wanted to enjoy the day.” And with that, she leaned against the post once more and turned her attention back to her book. Moments later she heard a voice.