by Marie Harte
Liam had come alone this time. “Sophie wanted to come, but she had something come up at the gallery needing her attention.” His father coughed, emotion bright in his eyes.
“No problem, Dad. Come on in.” He stepped back and let his father enter.
Liam walked in, looked around, then ordered J.T. to sit. Considering J.T. had just seen his father and Sophie the other day when they’d brought him some clothes, he didn’t understand what his dad was doing here again. Had Hope asked him to come check on him? “Dad, what’s up?”
Frowning, Liam ran a hand through his closely cropped hair. He glared at J.T., then exploded. “Jesus, boy. I taught you better than that!”
J.T. blinked. “Dad?”
“You’re getting soft. Letting them punch you from behind? Taking you down? I talked to Heller, who saw some of it. You could have been killed.”
Stupid Heller. “I’m fine. I held my own.”
“Barely.”
“Hey.”
“Damn it.” Liam paced, and J.T. watched his father lose it. The old man swore up and down, not making much sense.
“You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. My son was nearly killed.” Liam’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, his gaze murderous. “You don’t ever let them do that again. Get your ass back in the gym. Once you’re healed up, you’re getting some extra training. If I have to get Sam and Foley to knock some defensive moves into you, I will. And don’t think Heller won’t help as well. We talked about you, and we’re both concerned.” The fire of anger burned bright in his dad’s eyes.
“Aw, Dad. It was a freak thing.”
Liam shook his head. “When I lost your mother, something broke inside me.” He sat in the chair near J.T., his gaze honest, furious, his voice anxious. “But I had you, and I had Del. You two were a huge pain in my ass for years.”
“I tried,” J.T. said drily.
“Little shit.” Liam managed a watery smile, and J.T. worried about his father’s mental state. He’d never seen his dad so rattled. Even when they’d heard that Del had been hit by a car, his father had kept his shit together. “Life is good. So good I keep waiting for something to take it all away. When your sister was injured, I was scared, but I knew, deep down, that she’d be okay. She’s always had a hard head, and truth be told, by the time I knew she’d been hit, I’d already heard from Beth that she was recovering just fine. But you.” His father leaned over and slugged him in the arm.
“Ow, damn it. That hurt.”
“You scared the hell out of me. You’re smart, smarter than I ever was. You have a gift, son. A magic in the way you see the world. And wondering if you’d be alive to share it after they put a beating on you, that shook me. J.T., I love you, boy.”
“Aw, Dad. I know.” Shit. Now his vision was starting to get blurry. “Damn. Got some dust in my eyes.” He blinked to clear his tears.
“Then you should also know Paulie and I had a chat.” At that moment, Liam looked like a man not even J.T. would mess with. “I’ll be talking to his friends soon enough. No one messes with a Webster and gets away with it. You’re mine. And you always will be. I protect what’s mine.”
Liam stared at J.T., who stared back, not sure what to say.
“Um, okay.”
With a grunt, Liam nodded, looked at him, then stood. He expelled a heavy breath, turned, and walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob. “Hope. Is she taking good care of you?”
“Yeah.” J.T. sighed. “She’s…she’s good.”
Liam glanced over his shoulder, no longer looking so stressed. “That she is. Sophie thinks the world of her. I like her too.” He nodded, and J.T. realized he’d just gotten his father’s seal of approval concerning Hope. “She’s the type of woman who’ll love a man for who he is deep inside. Even when he’s too much of a jackass to let her know, she’ll wait and be patient. Because at some point, even a jackass has to know when he’s got a good thing.”
J.T. frowned. “Hold on. I’m the jackass?”
His father just stared at him.
“What happened to you loving me, and me having a gift?”
“Not a damn thing. But it’s worth nothing if you don’t share it. Remember that.” And that said, Liam left.
J.T. sat in quiet speculation, not sure what to make of his father’s compliments and insults uttered in the same breath. All that emotion expelled in a matter of minutes. Shaken yet pleased that his father cared enough to check on him again, J.T. sat and thought about things.
He sat unmoving for several minutes before a knock at the door interrupted him.
“Christ. Now what?” He lumbered to his feet once more, groaning, and moved to the door. Only to look through the peephole and see Hope’s mother.
She knocked again.
He had to let her in, right? J.T. unlocked the door and opened it, stepping back. “Hi, Linda.”
She looked him over, from top to bottom, and shook her head. “You look awful.”
“Thanks.” He closed the door behind her and joined her in the living room. “Hope went to the store. She’ll be back soon.”
“Yes, I know. I called her.”
“Ah, okay.” He walked with her to the couch, watched her sit, and knew he should sit as well to be polite.
It took him a minute and a few muttered curses, but he eased his way into the plush chair by the couch. “So how are you?”
“Better than you.” She looked him over, and in her mannerisms he saw hints of her daughter. The way Linda held her head, the way she looked at him with such intensity. Hell, the way she looked, pretty and classy—a mature version of Hope. “We need to talk.”
“Funny, that’s the line I was going to use on your daughter when she gets home.”
Linda pursed her lips. “What exactly is going on between you and my daughter?”
“That’s between us, don’t you think?”
“You don’t like me, do you?”
“I don’t know you.” He paused. “But I could turn that right around. You don’t know me either, but you don’t like me, do you?”
“I do.”
“Exactly, so—wait. What?”
“I think you are exactly what my daughter needs.”
“Say that again? Aren’t you the same woman who was going on and on about money and men and Hope being too lame to know her own mind?”
“Yes and no. J.T., I’ve done a good bit of thinking about you and Hope since I met you. And don’t even pretend you two were dating weeks ago. I knew from the start she was using you to teach me a lesson.”
“Then why didn’t you call her on it?”
“Because, believe it or not, I care about my daughter.” She crossed her legs, and J.T. cringed, seeing her black heels. Hope had been right about every woman having a pair. “Hope and I are a lot alike. I think she’d die before admitting it, but she’s competitive, bossy—if gentler going about it—and smart. She also has her own set of priorities in life, and sadly, those haven’t included having a decent job or finding a man of worth.” She paused. “Until you.”
“I really do tattoo people for a living.”
She smirked. “I know. I saw your website. I listened to my husband and sons talking about you.”
“Well, ignore everything Landon said.”
“Why? He’s your biggest fan.”
“Yeah right.” This conversation was nothing like what he might have imagined having with Linda Donnigan.
She laughed. “I’m also close to my sister Beth, who thinks you and your sister are just amazing, by the way.”
He flushed. “Aw. Beth is a great lady. She keeps Del in line. My sister needs it. Liam was way too easy on her growing up.”
“So she says about you.” Linda leaned forward, resting her elbows on her chic red skirt. Her black
jacket parted, revealing a silk blouse and a string of pearls around her neck. The woman screamed sophistication with every breath she took. “Hope needs a strong man in her life. She’s been searching for a long time, and part of it’s my fault. In my attempts to make her strong and independent, I’ve managed to make her think she can never live up to my expectations. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. Hope is a sensitive girl with a big heart. But she has so much untapped potential.”
“I disagree.”
“Oh?”
A lot of disdain in that one syllable. “Your daughter is one of the kindest, sweetest, most wonderful women I’ve ever met. She’s got a great sense of humor, works hard, and is always trying to please you. She loves her family and friends. She’s living up to what she needs to be—herself. She isn’t you. Money doesn’t mean much to her, and she has no desire to be king of the castle.”
“You mean ‘queen.’”
Humor, from Linda?
“Yeah, well, queen, then. She likes working for Cam, and she’s good at it. She could have any guy she wants.”
“Yet she chose you.”
“To screw with you, yeah.”
“Ah, but there’s the rub. I knew who you were when she brought you. All I ever wanted was for my daughter to find someone to love her as much as her father and I love each other. And yes, I want her taken care of. Hope has no thoughts for money. But if you want to live more than paycheck to paycheck and enjoy a day or two not focused on bills, someone has to care about the almighty dollar. You’re not poor. Not rich either, but you’re no pauper.”
“Thanks.”
“Yes, I checked up on you. And someday when you have a daughter, you’ll do the same. I’m a bit of a throwback, I’m afraid. I don’t worry for my sons the way I do Hope. She’s just vulnerable in a way they aren’t. I’ve seen her cry when her relationships fall apart, and I know she’s heartbroken when yet another decision of hers turns out to be bad. I don’t want to be right all the time, you know. I just am.” Linda blew out a breath. “But I have to tell you, I’ve never seen her look at a man or talk about him the way she does you. I saw you two at dinner together, and you fit. According to your sister and Mike, Sophie, Beth, Liam, and my sons, you and Hope are involved in more than a scam. You’re a real couple.”
“We are.” No point in lying about it, even to himself.
“Do you love her?”
He wished to hell he hadn’t opened the door.
“Never mind. You will if you don’t already, because my daughter is amazing and lovable and perfect.” Linda touched her hair. “Just like her mother.” She winked. “So I’m going to do you a favor. I’m going to give you some advice.”
Linda stood and walked to the door. After a moment, J.T. straightened, holding his ribs, and joined her.
“What’s the advice?”
“Don’t tell her I like you. That girl will cut off her nose to spite her face. If she thinks I don’t like you, she’ll find you that much more attractive. But if I approve, there must be something wrong with you. We have a weird dynamic, and I know it. But I love my daughter more than anything. And I want what’s best for her.” She stepped closer and cupped his cheek, like Hope did.
He froze, weirded out. Especially when Linda teared up. Hell.
“I heard all about what you’ve been doing to watch over my daughter. And I know you got hurt because of it. I wanted to say thank you. And keep doing what you’re doing—only be safer.”
He smiled, and she patted his cheek before turning away.
“I was never here.”
He repeated, “You were never here.”
She put her hand on the doorknob. “I still don’t think you’ll suit my daughter.”
“Nope, not suiting.”
“If you have a daughter, I want you to slip Linda into her name somewhere.”
“When we—What?”
She laughed and stepped outside. “Funny you said ‘when’ and not ‘if.’ Have a lovely day, and I’ll see you two for brunch next week.”
He watched her walk down the hallway toward the stairs. A ping sounded, signaling the elevator, and Hope stepped out carrying two bags, just missing her mother.
She saw him in the open doorway and started. “You should be lying down.”
When, not if.
“We need to talk.”
Chapter 19
Hope nodded. “You’re right. Let’s talk while I put these groceries away.” She needed more distance. J.T. should have looked like a gym leftover in sweatpants and yet another Jethro Tull tee. Instead he appeared sexy, rumpled, and doable.
She concentrated on unbagging the groceries, determined to go through with this. She’d thought about nothing else since last night. Though it would kill her to let him go, it would be better for him in the long run. And hey, if he did come back to her, then she could keep him, right?
“J.T., I think you should go home.”
“Hope, I think we should—what?”
She nodded, putting the milk in the fridge. “It’s not safe for you to be here. I don’t want you hurt again. And let’s face it, this whole thing was just a scam to get my mother off my back. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty for a friend.”
“For a friend?” He yanked her around to face him, angrier than she’d ever seen him. They’d had their fair share of minor disagreements, but not major fights. Until now, it seemed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He stood close, enraged, but she didn’t feel threatened. The realization she could trust him to that level shook her. She didn’t want him to go.
“I like you, J.T. A lot.” She swallowed. “I just think it’s not fair to ask you to—”
“Who the hell is asking me anything?” he huffed, and she stared in fascination as Mr. Easygoing turned into a rager. His ribs had to be hurting with all the chest heaving, but he didn’t so much as groan or hold his ribs. “I’m your friend, your lover, your goddamn boyfriend. We’re together now, damn it. You don’t ditch a guy because it’s not safe. You stay with each other to get through rough times.” He glared at her, but beneath the anger she saw a glimmer of hurt, and it shocked her.
“But I—”
“But nothing,” he roared. “When two people hit it off like we do, they stick. They don’t toss over the other because it’s hard or uncomfortable. Christ. When you love somebody, you make it work.”
She gaped. Love?
“I mean, we like each other, right?” The words tumbled over one another as he rushed to explain himself. His eyes looked a little wild, and he leaned against the wall, away from her, now grabbing his injured side. “We’re smokin’ in bed. We joke, we laugh. We have fucking fun together. It’s not like I’m stopping you from dating. You told me yourself you were done with those losers.”
“But you—”
“And I have no intention of hooking up with some other chick after getting to hold on to you for a while. No way,” he hissed, still annoyed, apparently. His voice rose once more. “I don’t care about other women. I want you.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her close for a punishing kiss that had to hurt his lip. Yet she could only hold on, enthralled with the man she hadn’t been with in days.
“Now quit talking shit, and settle the hell down. There’s no walking away from us. Not now, not later. Jesus.” He stormed away, not quite as effective in showcasing his rage when he slowed down, but the angry intent was clear.
Hope grinned like an idiot at the empty bag on the counter.
“And put the damn ice cream away before it melts,” he shouted. “I’m taking a nap. If you want me, I’ll be in your bed, where I should have been last night.”
Wow. She felt his anger all the way in the kitchen.
And it was glorious.
The sincere fu
ry and pain and affection he felt had poured out, and Hope forgot all about doing the “right” thing and went back to plan A. Making the man realize that being together was the only way to go—and all his idea.
She laughed and hummed while she put the rest of the food away and cleaned up the tiny mess in the kitchen. Then she puttered, doing odd chores around the house.
An hour later, Hope decided to try to make nice with J.T. Except he’d fallen asleep, the poor, angry angel. She laughed to herself and tucked the blanket around him, thinking that even in sleep the man seemed solid, unbreakable.
Yet she knew all too well how he could be hurt. The bruise on his cheekbone looked painful, and his cut lip had to be sore. From what the hospital had told him, he’d have a few weeks until he healed properly. She guessed she’d need to stay close, then, because people who loved each other stuck.
She stared down at him, a curious warmth in her heart. He’d meant what he’d said. He loved her. She felt it, and she treasured the knowledge. She also knew he’d nearly had a panic attack after letting that slip, so she’d be damned if she’d bring it up and chance scaring him again.
I love him. I love him. I love him. Saying it to herself turned her giddy with joy. But until she knew he wouldn’t run from open confessions of affection, she’d hold it tight to her chest. It meant a lot to her that he hadn’t liked the thought of her sending him away. They could have broken it off right then. She’d clearly given him an out he hadn’t taken.
A long road lay ahead of them, though. Hope with her mother issues and need for acceptance, and J.T. with his fear of abandonment and the pain that came with loving someone. She wondered if he’d listened to himself, because he’d been spot-on about lovers who stuck with each other through thick and thin.
* * *
J.T. felt groggy. He’d gone to sleep annoyed with Hope. Hurt and, yes, angry that she could think to end things “for his protection.” What bullshit. That’s what guys said to women to get out of relationships. The whole “It’s not you, it’s me” crap. Well, this time, he was laying down the law.
She was either with him, or he’d spend the next few months convincing her they belonged together.