Restoring Hope

by Smith, C. P.

“I do, I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Sugar, that’s my job now. You living your life alone ends now. I’ve lived the past year with what happens when people keep secrets and don’t talk. You need to trust me to take care of you. I promise nothin’ will happen to you, but you need to promise to be honest with me.” Hope wasn’t sure she could keep that promise. Not sure she could ever tell him the truth.

  “Hope?”

  “I’ll tell you just not tonight, okay?” Nic sighed, and squeezed her tighter against him, trying to give her the security she obviously needed.

  Rubbing her head on his chest, trying to avoid his questions, she realized they were wet from the rain; she still had her shoes on, and his bed was now wet. “Nic, I think we messed up your bed.”

  Knowing when to push and when to hold back, Nic knew she was changing the subject for now, so he rolled Hope to her back, kissed her lips and then wiggled his eyebrows, chuckling “Oh, angel, it’s gonna get worse.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Hope landed on her back; cold fear replaced the pain she felt. He would kill her this time she knew it. Trying to get her feet under her, she scooted backward, her eyes on the knife on the kitchen counter. She’d been cutting vegetables for a salad and made the mistake of saying he was late when he walked through the door. She should have learned by now not to antagonize him, but what was left of the woman she once was held on tight, and every now and then, she’d bite back. “You don’t tell me when to be home,” he roared then pulled the tie from his collar. He stood over her as she tried to crawl away, tried to escape his fucked up mind. Snatching her hair, stopping her as she reached for the knife, fingers slipping on the granite countertop, he wrapped his tie around her neck and twisted….

  Gasping for air, her hand at her throat, Hope sat up, looking around the bedroom. She was alone in Nic’s bed, the sun shining through the blinds. Her dream, an old friend; one she pulled around her like a coat of armor, so she’d never forget that day. She’d left within a few days of the night and had been looking over her shoulder ever since.

  Shaking off the dream, she looked around. The room was masculine, brown walls, old weathered furniture that looked like it came from a rummage sale, but you could tell they were expensive pieces, historic pieces of a time long past. There were black sheets and comforter on the bed, and black and white photos on the wall of Nic’s kids. Looking at the pictures, her gaze caught on one of Chelsea smiling. Wanting a closer look at his daughter, she rolled and found a white iris on his pillow with a note under it. Smiling at the delicate flower that filled Nic’s garden, she loved their purity, how white they were. When she’d first moved in, and they had their coffee in the garden, Nic had told her they were the symbol of France, of the fleur de lis, they meant wisdom, hope and the promise of love. Last night when he’d made love to her in the garden, they’d surrounded them with their scent, mixing with the rain and heat; it was a powerful memory of fresh flowers, sex and passion.

  Lifting the flower to her nose, she breathed in its scent as she picked up the note from his pillow.

  “Gone for coffee and beignets, Nic.”

  Smiling, she crawled out of bed and threw on a discarded T-shirt. Moving to the pictures of Nicky and Chelsea, she gazed at each one, the happy smiles on their faces, Chelsea at different ages, beautiful in all of them. Blonde hair, light, blue eyes like Kat’s, Nic was right—she was perfect. Hope’s chest tightened thinking how hard it must have been for all of them to lose her. For the pain they go through daily still, trying to cope with the loss as they go about their lives. Running a finger down the contour of Chelsea’s face she was startled when warm, hard arms surrounded her.

  “Like I said, she was perfect,” Nic whispered in her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder as they both stared at the photo of his daughter’s angelic face.

  “She was beautiful, Nic, is beautiful. I wish I knew what to say to make it easier for you.”

  “Sugar, there isn’t anything you can say that will help, it just takes time.”

  Turning in his arms, Hope looked at Nic and saw he wasn’t in pain, just resolved to the fact that his road to healing would take him on a winding one. Nic leaned in, kissed her gently and then smiled against her lips. Moving backward, still holding Hope in his arms, when his legs hit the bed he fell back taking her with him.

  Laughing as she fell, when she collided with his chest she smiled, still amazed that last night she’d been on her way out of town, prepared never to return, and with one kiss, her resolve to leave washed away in the rain.

  “Did you bring me beignets?” she asked raising her eyebrows, this was serious business—those sugarcoated pastries had become an addiction.

  “Sugar, I’ve seen the way you look when you eat them. I wouldn’t deny you or me the satisfaction.”

  “And just how do I look?”

  Lifting his head, running his nose against her neck, he nipped her ear and then whispered, “Like you’re gonna come from the sheer taste of them.”

  “That,” she gasped, enjoying his tongue as it flicked out, teasing her, “Would be accurate.”

  Nic rolled Hope to her back and worked his way down her neck and back. He whispered, “Close your eyes,” so she did, waiting to see what happened next. Moments later, the smell of pastry and powdered sugar engulfed her, and she opened her mouth when the sweet treat hit her lips. Moaning as she bit down, she opened her eyes and watched Nic as he watched her. His attention was on her reaction, so she moaned again giving him more of a show.

  “Just so you know,” Nic explained, getting hard just watching her. “I have to be at work in forty-five minutes, so I’m hauling your ass to the shower. You give me a show like that I’m not waiting to pay you back.”

  Hope smiled, licked her lips, and he watched that too, growing harder. Then she leaned up and said, “I’ll do your back if you do mine.”

  One minute she was on her back, the next she was in the air thrown over his shoulder. Hope laughed; Nic smacked her sweet ass, and for the next thirty minutes, Nic gave Hope another reason to forget about ever leaving.

  “What?” Hope asked Rose. The old woman was standing there staring at her.

  “You tell me what,” Rose demanded.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Dat’ what I’m sayin,’ what?”

  “What’s going on?” Abby asked Rose when she entered the kitchen and found Rose standing over Hope.

  “Dat’ what I want to know,” Rose replied.

  “What?” Hope asked again, still confused by the whole conversation.

  “You standin’ dere’ wit’ your head in da’ clouds.”

  “She does look kinda of dreamy,” Abby joined in and Hope just stared at the women.

  “She got a look dat’ say—” Rose stopped mid-sentence and then smiled the smile of a woman who knew when a woman had been thoroughly loved by a man. And not just any man, a man who knew how to make a woman feel good, a man who knew his way around the body, and Rose began nodding and mumbling “Mm hmm, he done good. Fill you up wit’ hope he do, make you dream.”

  “It worked?” Abby replied, but Hope was too busy thinking about what Rose had said to catch her meaning. Had Nic filled her with hope, helped her to dream again? It had been so long since she’d had anything to dream about except staying alive, she’d missed the moment when her thoughts turned to more than just survival. How had that happened in one night? She’d been lonely for so long, trapped inside a hell that she’d forgotten how to dream. But Rose was right, as she stood there cooking she was dreaming about the future, one that included all of them,

  “You tell Maman it not work. She got da’ look of someone wit’ purpose, wit’ a reason to fight instead of run.”

  Hope looked back and forth between the two women and finally tuned into what they were saying. “You two plotted against me didn’t you?”

  No, Cher, plotted for you,” Rose smiled then put bother hands on Hope’s face and leaned in, kissi
ng her forehead. “Plotted for da’ both of you,” then she turned on her heels feeling like she’d won the lottery and patted herself on the back at another job well done.

  Hope watched as Rose left the kitchen and then turned to Abby, “So, you were forced into service were you?”

  “Please, I saw how he looked at you when you served him. And when he came to your rescue? Have mercy, I almost took a picture and updated my Facebook status. That was like something out of a romance novel.”

  “He was being a gentleman.”

  “He was protecting what was his.”

  “Abby, he’d just met me.”

  “Hope, clue in, Nic’s a man’s man, he took one look at you and decided you were it. He may not have known it at that moment, but his caveman did,” Abby laughed.

  Hope smiled at the mention of Nic being a caveman and thought back to him throwing her over his shoulder.

  “Okay, the caveman bit I believe,” she admitted feeling good to just laugh with a friend. It was all so normal, something she hadn’t had in a very long time.

  “Grunts does he?” Abby asked.

  “Grunts, growls, manhandles,” Hope answered looking around to make sure no one was listening.

  “Sounds like a good time to me,” Abby laughed and then she leaned in, “You deserve this; he deserves this, take care of it. A man like Nic, sugar—you won’t know a day of unhappiness if you take care it, let him take care of you.” Nodding her head, she smiled at Abby and then waved as her friend went back into the restaurant. Take care of it, huh? She might need help in that department; she had no clue how to take care of a relationship.

  She was biting her lip deep in thoughts about the how’s of taking care of a relationship when Big Daddy shouted from across the kitchen.

  “Bebe, you give da’ man what he needs, let him take care of you and you give him da’ truth. Dat’ recipe for amour.” Hope smiled at Big Daddy and then ducked her head when she thought about the lie she’d knew she’d have to tell. No way would a man like Nic want her if he knew the truth.

  Her chest tightened when she thought about John hurting any of the people she cared about, and she thought again about running to keep them safe. Her chest tightened further at the idea, and she became nauseous just thinking about it. One month, that’s all it took. How had it happened so fast? One minute she was passing through and the next minute she’d fallen in love. Hope froze when she realized she loved Nic. But, it was true; she felt it deep in her bones. His moving her in, the morning coffees, the rides from work, all of it had paved the way for what happened last night, and now she was in so deep she didn’t want to surface.

  Feeling sweat break out across her forehead, she wiped it away with a towel. She looked back at Big Daddy, and he burst out laughing, “Don’t look so scared, Cher, love never killed anyone.” Closing her eyes, she shook off his words and prayed to God that he was right. ‘Cause if he was wrong she knew it would be her who died fighting to protect it.

  The night was busy, the traffic steady so Hope didn’t have time to worry about what would happen next, only what meal needed to be prepared. Mid-way through the evening Rose handed Hope a ticket. When she looked at it, instead of a number indicating a menu selection, there was a message. As she read the words, she started giggling.

  “Angel, fix me something fiery like you.”

  Hope looked up at Rose and saw the old woman smiling her know-it-all smile, and she rolled her eyes at her. Grabbing a bowl, she ladled up a steaming bowl of gumbo filled with spicy sausage, shrimp and crabmeat. She added Big Daddy’s special cornbread and a big slab of bread pudding, drizzling a warm buttery caramel topping over it. She took off her blue chef’s coat, pulled off her hairnet so she didn’t look unappealing, and then picked up the tray she’d set the food on and headed to the floor.

  She backed into the door, pushing it open with her bottom and then turned as it opened wide. She saw Nic at the end of the bar; a seat she was coming to figure out was his spot and headed towards him. He was lifting a bottle of beer to his lips when he saw her coming, then paused before the bottle reached his lips and his grin appeared. His gaze moved down her and then back up as she got closer, and when she reached him and put his plates in front of him, he reached out, grabbed her at her neck and brought her in for a kiss. It wasn’t sweet; it was claiming, toe curling and when he released her, she took a step back and blinked several times. In a daze, she looked at him and saw his smug look; his eyes turned to her right, and he said, “Henri, another beer?”

  Hope turned and saw Henri standing there with his arms crossed, watching Nic’s little show. He had no expression on his face and then he grinned, raised his hands in surrender and mumbled, “Message received loud and clear big guy.” Nic nodded once and then turned back to Hope.

  “Did you just throw down?”

  “Sure did, sugar.”

  “That’s kinda hot just so you know,” Hope replied and leaned on the counter. Nic grinned, leaned in and kissed her sweetly this time, and then she watched as he picked up his spoon, winked at her and then spooned the spicy gumbo up ready to eat it. They both heard, “Dad,” shouted from behind him, and Nic turned around and found Nicky and Kat both standing at the entrance again. Nic looked back at Hope, and she knew he didn’t want to eat with his ex-wife, but wouldn’t say no to his son. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it to let him know he should go and then it hit her. If Nic could throw down why couldn’t she? When he turned to speak to Nicky, she stopped him. He looked back at her with a questioning look, and she grabbed his face and kissed him for all she was worth.

  Nic’s hand came up and held her mouth to his, consumed by her kiss and felt her own possessiveness. He recognized what she was doing and wasn’t about to stop her. He stroked her tongue, gave her what she needed, letting her know she had nothing to worry about from his ex-wife, and then slowly ended the kiss, trailing two more quickly across her lips when he finished. Then, he placed his forehead on hers and stared back at her, giving her even more. Giving Hope him.

  “Will I see you later?” Hope whispered, hoping he’d say yes.

  “Angel, I’ve had a glimpse of heaven and tasted paradise, if you think I’d be any place else you’d be wrong.”

  “Okay, see you later,” Hope replied and smiled brightly at him. Just for an instant, he thought he could drown in those eyes; they’d turned the color of the bluest ocean after his kiss and the result left him wanting. Releasing her, he kissed her nose and said “Later, angel,” as he stepped back.

  Turning to greet the smiling face of his son and the eyes of a woman who looked like she would explode at any moment, but wouldn’t in a crowded room, so Nic smiled at his son.

  “Does this mean you’re more than friends?” Nicky questioned.

  Nic didn’t say anything back to Nicky. He needed to put a stop to any ideas Kat had about running her mouth off about Hope in front of his son. He grabbed Kat by the arm and walked her away from Nicky’s ears then leaned down, making sure he had her eyes. He tilted his head to the right and with a serious tone said, “Are we gonna have problems or can you act like an adult for once?”

  Kat narrowed her eyes at him, looked over his shoulder at Hope as she pushed through the door of the kitchen and shot lasers of heat at the retreating woman. She smiled tightly, and then through gritted teeth said, “We just thought you might like to eat together, but I can see you have plans.”

  “Got no plans till Hope gets off shift, you wanna eat together we can eat together, but I’ll warn you now, not one word out of your mouth about Hope. Nicky likes her, and it wouldn’t go over well if you bad mouth her.”

  “Then we’ll agree not to talk about your,” she paused to look for the right word and decided on, “Slut.” He knew she had to get a word in before Nicky joined them she couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t wired to keep her mouth shut. But, no way in hell would he let that slide. He leaned in and bit out on a growl, “I’d watch who you call names, Kat. I’m
not the type of man who’ll stand for it, and you know it.” Nic then turned and walked away after his parting shot and curled his arm around his son’s neck. She wants to eat he’ll eat. He’d do anything for Nicky, including keeping peace with his mother.

  Chapter Thirteen

  With the kitchen finally clean and the prep work for the next day’s business complete, Hope was ready to head home and kick back with Nic. They’d been a couple for more than a week now, and she still got excited thinking about seeing him each night when she got off work. She’d get butterflies in her stomach when it was time to leave and realized she felt like a schoolgirl with her first crush, and Nic was like the captain of the football team.

  Looking back on her time being courted by her husband, she realized she hadn’t felt the same about him. The blaring difference in attitude and feelings was obvious now she had something to compare it to. She’d known then he was dangerous, but she’d chalked up her nervous stomach to butterflies and ignored her own subconscious. After years of being alone, shuffled from one foster home to another and no money for college, at eighteen, she’d set out on her own. She’d worked retail at a high-end boutique and tried to better herself taking classes at night. Then the Cummings brothers had walked into the store where she worked, looking for a gift and all of that changed. Her husband’s perverse fascination with her, his possessiveness that she now saw as unhealthy had felt good after being alone. Now when she looked back, she remembered wringing her hands in nervous energy whenever he came to pick her up. At the time she’d worried he would find her lacking, but now she knew it was because she saw the darkness just under the surface. With Nic, she just felt connected, wanted, maybe even loved a little.

  The past week and a half had been nothing short of amazing. They’d spent every night in each other’s arms until it was time for Nicky to stay with Nic. Then they’d spent each night she was off work hanging out with him playing games or helping him with homework. She’d cooked for them; they’d cooked for her and each night when she’d closed her eyes, whether it was in Nic’s bed or her own, she’d felt a contentment she’d never known in her life.