Once Hope falls asleep, I get up and pull on my clothes. I’m too pissed to sleep — at Hope for not telling me and at Scott for trying something when he knew she was taken. I need to get out of here and cool off. I lock the front door behind me and head down to my Jeep. I climb behind the wheel and start driving aimlessly.
I’m angry at Hope, yes, but I’m trying not to be. She said she stopped it immediately, that’s all I can really ask for. It’s Scott who needs to learn a lesson. He knows we’re together, and I’m sure the ring she’s been wearing on her finger every day was enough to tell him she’s engaged, even if she didn’t speak the words herself.
Did she tell Scott about the engagement? Is there any reason she’d skip over that piece of important information? I shake my head, trying to clear it. I know these thoughts are nothing more than an old man who’s afraid to lose his beautiful, young fiancée to a younger man. Why does this always come up?
I know Hope loves me. I know she hasn’t ever second guessed our relationship, but I’m still self-conscious about my age. I mean, when I’m alone, I don’t feel like a man that’s pushing fifty. I feel young and vital. But when I’m standing next to her and strangers are looking at us, I feel twice as old as I am. You’d think I was seventy and she was ten with the way people look at us.
I wish it wasn’t an issue, but it always will be. She’ll always be younger than I am. This is something I’ve always been worried about but thought we’d overcome. I had overcome it until it was shoved back in my face by Scott, a guy that is Hope’s age and right for her in every way possible.
Completely annoyed with myself, I pull up to the curb at a small pub. I shut off the engine but don’t move to go inside. This isn’t what I need. I don’t need to drink. I should be at home, curling up with Hope right now. Or even better, beating the shit out of Scott for touching my angel.
I’m about to start the Jeep back up when I hear my name. I turn and look out the window, looking for whoever called it. I see a blonde waving her hand at me. It’s Vanessa, my receptionist.
She’s walking closer, so I step out of the Jeep and join her on the sidewalk.
“Hey, what are you doing in this part of town?” she asks, coming to a stop in front of me.
I shake my head. “I’m not sure. I couldn’t sleep, so I came for a drive to clear my head.”
She nods toward the door to the bar. “Join me for a drink? We can talk about it.” She flashes me a smile of her bright, white teeth.
“No, thank you. I really should get back home before Hope wakes up.” I take a step back.
“Oh, come on, Holden. I’ve worked for you for years now, and I still feel like I don’t know you.”
I smile to be polite. “Maybe another time.” I turn to walk away, but she catches me by the arm, causing me to spin around in confusion.
“One drink. I promise.”
I let out a deep breath. “One drink,” I agree, more so to get her to leave me alone than anything else. It seems it would be quicker to have one drink than to sit here and argue about this any longer.
We walk inside and sit by the window up front. She orders some fancy girlie drink, and I order a draft beer. While we wait, she looks at me with a wide smile. “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this. In all the years we’ve worked together, we’ve never just talked like friends. You know?”
I let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Do you come here often?”
She nods. “Every weekend. My roommate is the bartender.” She points over her shoulder to a short, red-headed woman behind the bar.
“Roommate? How old are you?” I ask, then quickly realize that I sound like an ass. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
She shakes her head. “Not at all. I’m twenty-four.”
I nod, surprised. We never really talk much at work, but she always shows up on time, and she always dresses appropriately. I thought she was much older than she is based on how well she carries herself. Finding out she’s so young, makes me a little nervous. I don’t want her or anyone to think I’m trying something here. I mean, everyone knows my history with younger women — not women, just Hope. But in their eyes, if I left my wife for a younger woman, I’d leave my new fiancée for an even younger woman. I feel as if I’m being watched.
“I should probably get going,” I say, trying to stand, but she reaches out and places her hand on my arm.
“We haven’t even gotten our drinks yet.” Her eyes quickly flash to our empty table and back up to me. “Please, sit. You promised.”
I roll my eyes as I sit back down.
“Do you want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you?”
I let out a deep breath. “No, it’s nothing.”
The waiter brings us our drinks and I slip him a ten for both.
“It’s obviously something, Holden. I’ve worked with you every day for what, three years. I know when something is bothering you. Is everything okay with you and Hope?”
I pick up my beer and take a drink. “We’re fine. It’s everyone else that’s the problem.”
Her brows draw together like she’s concerned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what do you think when you see Hope and me together?”
She takes a sip and thinks it over. “I think you two are very much in love. I can see it in the way you look at her and the way she looks at you. But I must be missing something here.”
“If you didn’t know us and you saw us on the street together, would you think she’s my daughter? Would you think I paid her to be with me, or that she’s only with me for my money?”
She nods. “I understand now.” She absentmindedly runs her fingers around the edge of her glass. “But why do you let what others think matter? As long as you’re both happy, nobody should mind.”
I laugh. “That’s the same thing I tell myself. And I thought it was working, but I just found out that Hope was approached by a much younger man. He kissed her, and she stopped it, but a part of me wonders if she liked it — getting attention like that from a younger man.”
She shakes her head with a smile in place. “I only met her the one time, but I know she doesn’t feel that way.”
I take another drink and sit back. “And how do you know that?”
“Holden…” She locks her eyes on mine. “I don’t know how you two met or got together, but I can tell you that if she’s with you, and about to marry you, it’s because she loves you. Your age, looks, or job doesn’t have anything to do with that.”
“And what if she’s changed her mind?”
“Then I’d say she never would’ve told you about that kiss to begin with.”
I take another drink of my beer and nod. “You’re probably right. I guess it’s only in my head.”
She lets out a laugh. “It usually is.”
“Thank you,” I say, placing my hand on hers that’s resting on the table between us.
“You’re welcome. Now get out of here and get home to the woman you love.”
I finish my beer and stand. “I really appreciate the talk. And you know, I think you and Hope would get along great. You two should hang out some time.”
“I’d love to,” she agrees.
Without a backwards glance, I turn and head for the door. I get behind the wheel of the Jeep and put the key in the ignition. Just as I go to turn it over, I look across the street. Not even a block away is the studio Hope works at. The lights are still on.
I wonder if he’s in there right now. I start the engine and pull out into traffic. I park around the block and get out to walk up to the door. The sign is flipped to closed but all the lights are on inside, not just the front lights showcasing their work. Someone is still in there.
I knock on the door and within seconds, Scott walks up to the door. He looks at me and quickly unlocks it. “Holden, what is it? Is Hope okay?”
Without thinking, I pull back my right fist and swing, landing a solid punch to his stomach.
He lets out a loud groan before doubling over and holding his stomach.
“Keep your fucking hands off Hope. You got it?”
He quickly nods from his bent position.
With that, I walk away, letting the glass door swing closed.
I’m home within minutes, crawling in bed behind Hope. I scoot up to her back and wrap my arm around her midsection, inhaling her deeply. I feel bad for leaving her in bed alone, but I needed to get my head on straight. Talking to Vanessa really helped, and now that I’ve gotten to know her a bit more, I think the two of them really would hit it off. Hope needs more female friends in her life. I’ll run the idea by her soon and see if she’d like to go to dinner or something.
I drift off to sleep, praying I can shake these thoughts from my mind. I don’t want or need anything coming between Hope and me.
***
I wake before Hope and go make a pot of coffee. I’m pouring two cups when she wakes and joins me in the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she mumbles sleepily as she wraps her arms around me, resting her cheek on my bare back.
I spin in her arms and pull her in for a hug. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a baby. I wasn’t ready to wake up yet.”
I plant a kiss to the top of her head and break away, handing her a cup.
We both move to sit at the island with our coffee.
“Listen, Hope… I’m not really comfortable with you going to work when I know about… you know.” I don’t know why I’m so nervous to talk about this. I don’t want her working for that jackass, but I don’t want to take her choice away either. She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions. I finally decide I’ll leave it up to her and support her no matter what she chooses or how I feel about it.
She nods and takes a sip. “I understand, Holden. And to be honest, as much as I enjoy the work, I’m not comfortable there anymore. I thought I could go back, and everything would be how it was before, but I can’t. It feels awkward. I think I’m going to go in and quit today.”
I place my hand on hers and squeeze. “Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to do anything. If you want to work there, I’ll try to keep my feelings to myself.”
She cracks a small smile. “I brought it up last night because I’d already decided to quit. I’ll go back to hanging pictures in Brad’s gallery.”
“Or… we could get you your own studio,” I suggest.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet. Let’s focus on the wedding for now. I want to make sure our lives aren’t going to take us in the opposite direction. I don’t want anything holding me back if we decide to do something different.”
I stand and press a kiss to her forehead. “If that’s what you want, angel.” I place my cup in the sink. “How about a shower?”
She grins wide, jumps up, and I chase her into the bathroom.
Chapter 17
Hope
When Holden leaves for work, I pull on a pair of jeans and a gray sweater. I leave my hair hanging down around me, grab my jacket and walk out the door. Within half an hour, my cab drops me in front of the studio. Morning traffic is horrible — I probably could’ve walked faster, but I needed the time to think through what I’m going to say.
I push myself forward and walk into the studio. I run into Scott in the back. “Oh, hey,” I say, unprepared.
“Good morning, Hope. How are you today?”
I bite my lower lip. “Actually, there’s something we need to talk about.”
A puff of air escapes his lips as he nods once. “Let me guess, you quit?”
My mouth drops open. I push away the surprise. “How’d you know?”
He nods toward his office. “Come on.”
I follow him back, and he takes his place behind his desk, while I sit across from him. Even with the desk between us, I feel like we’re way too close, especially alone in his office.
He hands me an envelope.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking it and opening it.
“I was out in the city last night, trying out my new camera, and I ran into someone. I thought you wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t have proof.”
My face scrunches together. “Proof of what?” I ask as I pull out a stack of pictures. I flip them over, and the first one is Holden with his receptionist. They’re standing on a sidewalk in front of a bar. I flip to the next one, and they’re sitting at a table, talking over drinks. In each one, they seem to be getting friendlier and friendlier. The images string together like a stilted film. Their smiles get bigger. His hand covers hers. They hug.
My chest tightens so much it feels like it stops my heart. “These are from last night?”
“Check the time stamp,” he says, quietly.
I look at the bottom corner of the picture and discover while I was sleeping last night, he was meeting with another woman. My jealously spikes.
“Why are you doing this, Scott?” I look directly at him.
He holds up his hands, palms facing me. “Hey, you don’t want to believe it — fine. It might not be anything at all. It could be completely innocent. But I knew you wouldn’t believe me unless I had proof. I just thought you’d like the whole truth before you got married since you told him our secret.”
“What?”
“After his little rendezvous last night, he came here and punched me. Then he threatened me. That’s how I knew you were going to quit today.”
I stand, clutching the pictures in my hands. “See ya around,” I say, walking out. I roll my eyes at myself as I leave the studio, because those weren’t the last words I envisioned myself saying to him. I was hoping for a dramatic, I quit, before slamming the door and storming out. He threw me off completely with these pictures — something he planned on doing.
I find myself sitting in a coffee shop, drinking coffee after coffee. My gaze stares unfocused out the window as traffic passes. The pictures are setting in front of me. I can’t stop looking at them. My thoughts morph into something dark and worrisome. At first glance, this meeting captured on film looks completely casual — two friends meeting up for drinks. They aren’t touching inappropriately in any of the pictures. But then, something happens. Questions swirl in my mind. Why did he sneak out of bed last night? Why did he go meet up with her in the middle of the night?
Moving the images back into a neat stack, I put them back in the envelope before standing and walking out to hail a cab. The next thing I know, I’m standing in front of his shop. I take a deep breath and push myself forward.
“Good morning, Hope,” Vanessa says as I walk past her like I don’t hear her. Shoving my way through the swinging door, I march into his office. He’s sitting at his desk with his attention trained on the computer screen, but when I walk in, he looks up in surprise.
“Hope, what are you doing here?”
I step up to his desk and drop the envelope in front of him. It makes a sickening thud when it lands.
He looks confused, but he picks it up and thumbs through the photos.
“Hope, this isn’t what it looks like,” he says with wrinkles forming around his eyes.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Can you explain why you snuck out of the house last night to meet up with her?”
“I didn’t sneak out of the house to meet up with her, or anybody.” He takes a deep breath. “I left because I was bothered by what you told me. I couldn’t sleep. I just needed to burn off some steam.”
I want to believe him. But does that make me foolish? Holden would never hurt me. He loves me. I’m the only one that could ever make him happy.
But it wouldn’t be the first time he’s cheat—
No. That was different. He wasn’t happy with Jane. She was killing them both. He tried to leave her. He wouldn’t do this to me.
I argue with myself.
I know him.
“And punching Scott?” I ask.
He lets out a chuckle. “That was act
ually the reason I left. I was going to drive over there and teach him a lesson, but I talked myself out of it. I drove around and stopped for a drink. That’s when I ran into Vanessa. We had one drink and talked about you the whole time.” Honesty shines in his eyes, and he sees when I let my guard down. He stands and walks over to me with open arms, pulling me against his chest. “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”
With my head against his chest, I nod. “I know, and even when I saw the pictures, I didn’t want to believe it.”
He places both hands on either side of my face and tilts my head back to look up at him. “I love you, angel.”
I offer up a small smile. “I love you, too.”
He presses his lips against mine strongly, and I feel everything between us — all the emotions he caused me to feel years ago, and the way that yearning for him turned into pure love. I know I couldn’t live without him. Something deep inside me calls for his touch, his love, him.
I fist my hands in the front of his navy-blue t-shirt and live in this kiss — the taste of him flooding my mouth, his scent engulfing me, and his hard body pressing against mine. It makes me forget everything. It’s only him and me, and I can’t wait to marry him, so he can be mine forever.
While we’re sitting at our favorite Chinese restaurant having dinner, his phone rings.
“Hello?” There’s a long pause before he comes back with, “No, I still haven’t heard from her. I’m sorry I can’t be of any help.”
My ears perk up. Her? Who’s he talking to, and who’s it about?
“Have a good evening,” he says, ending the call.
I pick up my glass of wine. “Who was that?”
“Jane’s physiologist, she hasn’t been going to her court ordered sessions, and she’s not answering his calls.”
“Court ordered?” I respond in surprise.
He nods and resumes eating. “She got into some kind of trouble, but I have no idea what. I haven’t heard from her since I kicked her out of the apartment.”
“Nobody knows where she is or if she’s okay?”
Bound to Hope: A Forbidden Romance (The Hope Series Book 2) Page 12