I wake several hours later, and an idea pops into my head. Grabbing my phone, I snap a picture of my naked body in his bed and send it to him. With a giggle, I drop the phone by my side. I pull all the blankets and pillows toward me, snuggling them as I close my eyes and take a deep, relaxing breath.
The next thing I know, Holden rushes into the room.
“What are you doing?”
He begins pulling off his shirt. “I told you I wouldn’t be able to focus on work. I have ten minutes.” His body covers mine.
When we finally manage to pull away from one another, he leaves to go back to work, and I take a shower. Standing beneath the hot flow of water, I pick up his body wash and bring the bottle to my nose. I inhale his delicious scent, and it makes my stomach muscles tighten like my body’s waiting for his touch. I pour the liquid soap into the palm of my hand and start washing off. When I get to my hips, I giggle because they’re covered in black smudges from the motorcycle grease that painted his hands.
After I finish my shower and towel off, my hips are still smudged with handprints. It’s not until I follow my trail of clothing that I realize I no longer have a skirt to wear, or panties.
“Fuck,” I mumble to myself while holding up the scrap of material that used to be my skirt.
I find my phone and call Brad.
“Hello?” he answers, sleep evident in his voice.
“I need a favor.”
“Good morning to you too, love.” I can practically hear the smile on his face.
“Brad, this is serious. I’m at Holden’s apartment. I can’t leave.”
“Don’t tell me he left you tied to the bed,” he jokes.
I offer up a fake laugh. “No, I need you to bring me some clothes.”
“What’s wrong with the clothes you wore over there? You’re not too good for the walk of shame, you know?”
“I don’t know where my panties are, and my skirt is no longer a skirt,” I tell him as my face flushes with heat.
His deep laughter fills my ear.
“Yeah, yeah, get it all out.” I’m not surprised.
“Text me the address, and I’ll be there soon.”
“Thank you.”
I hang up the phone and quickly send him the address.
Then I sit on the couch, wrapped in my towel, and send Holden a message.
Me: Brad is bringing me some clothes since you ripped mine.
Almost instantly, I get a message back.
Holden: Damn, my plan to keep you naked and locked away in my apartment all day didn’t work.
I smile at his playfulness.
Me: Not this time. Will I see you tonight?
Holden: I close up at five. I’ll come by your place. Then we can grab some dinner. I love you.
Me: I love you too.
It’s not much longer before knock sounds at the door. I stand, still wrapped in my towel, and pray it’s Brad. I peer into the peephole and let out a relieved breath when I see his smiling face.
Opening the door, I let him in. “Thank God.”
He spins around to face me, handing me my clothes. “The name’s Brad, sweetheart.”
I roll my eyes as I walk into the bedroom to get dressed.
“So, tell me, how did you manage to rip your skirt?” Brad asks from the living room.
I step to the side, so he can clearly see me giving him a dirty look. “I think you know.”
His smile widens. “Oh, damn. He ripped it off, didn’t he?” He lets out a sigh. “Why can’t I find a sexy as fuck man like him? And kinky too?” His eyes go wide.
I laugh and roll my eyes. “He’s mine.” I point my finger at him.
Shortly, I walk back into the living room, fully dressed, and sit down to put my shoes on.
“How old is he, anyway?”
I freeze. It’s not something that can be hidden. One look at him, and it’s easy to tell he’s much older than me. If it wasn’t evident before, it is now that he has a little gray peppering his beard and raven colored hair. But I love it.
“He’s forty-six,” I answer.
He whistles. “You got yourself a suga-daddy.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “No, I don’t. It’s not like that.”
He goes into diva mode by crossing his legs and pointing his toe. “What’s it like then?”
“I love him, Brad. I’m not using him for his money.”
He sits up quickly. “Is he rich too?”
I laugh. “I actually have no idea how much money he has. I’ve never cared to ask him.”
“So, let me get this straight. You, a beautiful twenty-six-year-old woman, are going to marry a man nearing his fifties, and he could be broke?”
I nod. “That’s right. I don’t care how much money he has. What I like to do with him doesn’t require money anyway.” I smile wide.
He busts out laughing. “Dirty girl. I knew we met for a reason.”
The phone rings but before I can move to answer it, the machine picks up. “It’s Holden, speak your piece,” plays out loud.
Brad laughs. “He has an answering machine?”
“Shut up, it’s probably for his business,” I whisper so the person calling can’t hear me, even though I know it doesn’t work that way.
“Holden, it’s Jane. You never returned my call last night, and I need to finalize our plans. Call me back.” The machine beeps, indicating she hung up.
Hearing Jane’s voice makes me freeze. I had no idea he was still talking to her.
Brad gasps. “Who’s Jane?”
Slowly, I turn to look at him. “His ex-wife who caused our break up last time,” I reply as a feeling of dread washes over me.
“Oh, shit.”
We both grow quiet as we think this over.
She needs to finalize their plans? What plans? Did they make plans before we got back together?
I’m guessing he hasn’t told her about us yet. But I know one thing, I refuse to be kept a secret this time. We’re both consenting adults here. There’s no reason to hide. When I see him tonight, I’m going to lay everything on the table. If he wants me, he has to come to terms with the fact that we’re together, whether Jane approves or not.
With my decision made, I stand. “Come on. I need to go see about a job.”
Brad stands with me. “A job? Did someone make you an offer last night?”
I lead him toward the door. “I was given a business card. I’m going to do some research and see if it’s something I could be interested in.” I open the door and hold it open for him to walk through. “Did you get any offers?”
The gallery opening we held last night was Brad’s. He paints and does sculptures. He agreed to hang some of my work in hopes of making a few bucks and finding me a full-time job.
“I sold a few pieces actually.”
“That’s awesome, Brad! Looks like we both had some good luck for once.”
We make it back to our apartment, and I head to my room and grab my laptop. Into Google’s search bar, I type in Scott Woods Photography.
His website pops up, and I click on the link. All the photographers who work for him have their own pages complete with their portraits, descriptions, and several photographs from their portfolios. They all seem very talented, and my excitement rises just from thinking about being listed next to them.
I pick up my phone and call the number I was given.
“Scott Woods,” he answers.
“Hi, this is Hope Daniels. You gave me your card at my gallery opening last night.”
“Hope, how are you doing?”
“Great. And yourself?”
“A lot better now that you’re calling. I have to admit, I didn’t think I’d hear from you.”
I laugh. I’m sure he knows how Holden feels about him. “Well, I just looked at your website and thought I’d give you a call to get the details about your offer. It looks like you have some great photographers working with you.”
“My team is
the best, bar-none. I’d love to meet with you and give you the rundown. Are you free in say, twenty minutes? I was just about to run out to grab some coffee.”
“Yes, that sounds perfect. Where would you like to meet?”
“You know the coffee shop across the street from the gallery we were at last night? Would that work?”
“I’ll be there,” I say with a smile I can’t keep away.
“Great. See you soon,” he says and hangs up.
I jump up quickly and pull on one of my favorite dress suits. I want to look professional. I want him to know I’m a serious photographer, and I want this job. After I pull my dark hair up into a neat bun, I rush out the door.
When I walk into the coffee shop, I’m a few minutes late, but traffic was terrible. He’s sitting at a small table in the corner. I don’t even bother grabbing a coffee. I can’t believe this was my one shot, and I’m late.
“Hi, I’m so sorry I’m late, but traffic was backed up.”
He stands and holds out his hand to shake. “Don’t worry about it. Lunch time is a horrible time to travel. Please have a seat.” He gestures toward the empty chair across from him.
“Normally, I’d ask to see your portfolio, but I think I saw most of your work last night. Based on that, I’m fully prepared to offer you a job after we go over a few details.”
“That’s great.” I can’t contain my smile.
“We’re a group of photographers that share one studio. Each of the team members has their own specialty. Some do on-location work, where they go wherever the shoot is being held. Some prefer to only shoot landscapes. Some only do weddings. Some only do art. Based on what I saw of your work last night, I think you cover everything. I’d really like to bring you on as a floater. You can shoot whatever needs doing. How does that sound?”
I smile and nod. “That sounds great!”
His shoulders fall with relief. “That’s great. I know it’s short notice, but it’d be a big help if you could start on Monday. I have a high-profile client coming in to do a shoot for her album cover.”
I lean forward. “You mean, I’m going to be taking pictures of famous people?”
He laughs. “We like to call them high profile clients, but yes.”
I want to jump for joy. I thought if anything, I’d get a job as a photographer in a Sears photo center, but this is so much better.
We discuss a few more things, like pay and hours before parting with a handshake. I’m so excited, and I can’t wait to tell Holden. I bounce back into the apartment. “I did it! I got the job!” I yell as I jump on the sofa, shaking the hell out of Brad.
He laughs and cheers along with me. When we settle down, he gets up and walks to the fridge. “This is a cause to celebrate!” A cork pops, and he comes back holding two glasses of champagne.
“To you and your bright future,” he says, tapping his glass to mine.
I hold up my finger to stop him from drinking. “And to you for taking a chance on me by hanging my photos in your gallery.”
He smiles and waves me off, as we both take a drink.
“So, tell me about this job. What will you be doing?”
“You’re never going to believe this, but my first job is to shoot a celebrity.”
“Shut the hell up. What if it’s Beyoncé?” His voice is high pitched and bordering on hysterical.
“Then I guess I’ll be taking Beyoncé’s picture.”
“I will kill you if you shoot Beyoncé and don’t bring me along.”
Our laughing and jokes are cut off by a knock on the door.
I stand and go to answer it. It’s Holden. My eyes drink him in. He’s wearing a pair of dark washed jeans, a black t-shirt stretched over his big chest, and his motorcycle jacket. His dark hair is styled neatly, and his lips turn up when he sees me.
“Hey. Good news,” I say as I take his hand and pull him into the apartment. I quickly lean in and give him a kiss. “I got the job!”
“The job? With that douche bag?” He shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it over the back of a kitchen chair.
Planting my hands on my hips, I tilt my head. “He’s not a douche bag. He’s actually a really nice guy. Oh, and the best part, I get a five thousand dollar signing bonus! That could go towards our wedding.”
“A signing bonus? That typically means you’ll be signing a contract.”
“Yeah, three years,” I reply.
His eyes go wide. “Are you sure you want to be tied to this guy for three years?”
I lead him back to the living room, pick up my champagne, and take a sip. “I mean, you have your business here. And as far as I know, it’s going really well, so we shouldn’t be moving or anything. Right?”
He sits down on the end of the couch, putting me between him and Brad. “I’m talking about what if you sign this contract, and then decide you don’t like the guy or the way he runs his business? What if in the next year or two you want to open your own place?”
“I guess I haven’t really thought about any of that yet. I was just so excited about getting offered such a great job.”
“You haven’t signed anything yet, have you?”
I shake my head. “No, we were going to take care of that and all the tax stuff on Monday after my first shoot.”
He places his hand on my thigh. “Just think about it a little more. Make sure it’s something you’re going to want. I know we haven’t talked much about our future yet, but what if you decide to stop working after we get married? You’ll be stuck there.”
My brows lift on their own. “Why would I stop working?”
He looks nervous. “I don’t know. You’re young, I thought there was a chance you’d want to start a family.”
“Oh,” is my only reply. Honestly, I never even thought about having children, especially with Holden. I didn’t even think he could have children. He and Jane never could conceive. And we’ve had sex hundreds of times, always without protection, and I haven’t gotten pregnant.
“This sounds like a conversation I don’t need to be here for,” Brad says, standing and leaving us alone.
“I never thought about having kids before. I didn’t even think you could have kids. You and Jane never…”
“Jane couldn’t have kids, not me. As far as I know, I’m fine. And if you do want kids, I want to give them to you. I want you to have everything you want in life. I don’t want to hold you back, Hope.”
“You mean to tell me that you’re able to have kids, and we’ve been having unprotected sex?”
His eyes flash around the room. “I thought you were on birth control?”
I shake my head and laugh. “We really haven’t talked about anything, have we?”
He joins in on my laughter. “I guess not.” He places his arm around my shoulders. “We’ll get this all figured out.”
I rest my head on his shoulder. “Speaking of Jane, I was in your apartment today and heard her message. I didn’t know you were still seeing her. Does she know about us?” I lift my head to look him in the eye.
He slowly turns his head to look at me. I can feel the nervousness rolling off him.
Chapter 3
Hope
“We stay in touch,” Holden says, turning his whole body to face me.
“Her message said she needed to finalize your plans. Do you two have plans to meet up?”
He takes a deep breath as he runs his hands through his hair. “About a year after we broke up and she moved away, she called me. She said she’d been going to see a therapist, and she was sorry for all the trouble she’d caused us. Ever since then, about once a year, we meet up and have dinner.”
“She comes here, or you go there?”
“She comes here,” he answers.
“Where does she stay?”
“Usually a hotel. Although, she had to stay with me once because every place was booked solid for some local event.”
“What? She stayed with you?” I sit up quickly and grab the bottle
, pouring more into my glass.
“It was only once, two years ago. We’re done. Over. I swear to you. Why would I have proposed to you, if I was still seeing her?”
“Has anything ever happened between you two since the divorce?”
“Hope,” he breathes out while leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands.
“Has there?” I ask again. “You asked me if I’d been with anyone else, and I told you no. I think it’s only fair to ask the same of you.”
“Something almost happened. Once.”
It feels like my heart breaks with his words. I mean, I know we weren’t together, so I have no right to get mad, but it still hurts to find out they’re still close enough that something almost happened.
“What?” I whisper.
He looks over at me. “Are you sure you want to know?”
I nod him on.
He leans back, not looking at me, but straight forward at the tv that isn’t on. “Last year, we went out for our normal dinner. We talked about what had been going on in our lives, mutual friends and family, nothing more.” He takes a deep breath, preparing to tell me the rest. “We’d been having a decent time, laughing and talking about old memories. We had a few drinks over dinner, and when I took her back to her hotel, she invited me up. We’d been getting along great, nothing inappropriate had happened or been said, so I didn’t think anything about it. I went up, and we continued drinking and strolling down memory lane. The next thing I knew, I was drunk off my ass and we were kissing.”
“Is that all that happened? A kiss?” I ask, hopeful.
He shakes his head. “No. She went down of me, and it had been so long for me — since you. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. Then I whispered your name. She didn’t hear me, but it was enough to make me realize I was making a mistake. I couldn’t go through with it after that. I stopped everything and left.”
The truth is hard to swallow, but there’s nothing I can be mad about. We weren’t together last year.
“Has there been anyone else?” I ask.
He finally turns to me, placing his hands on either side of my face. “No, Hope. It’s always been you. I didn’t want anyone else. Fuck, I didn’t want Jane that night, but I was still hurting over you, and I was drunk. I shouldn’t have put myself in that position.”
Bound to Hope: A Forbidden Romance (The Hope Series Book 2) Page 2