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Follow Me Back (A Fight for Me Stand-Alone Novel Book 2) by A.L. Jackson (11)

Hope

You’ve got to be shittin’ me.”

I glanced over the back of the couch and toward the hallway to make sure the coast was clear before I turned back to Jenna, who waited impatiently, legs crisscrossed under her and hugging a frilly throw pillow to her chest. She looked seconds away from pressing her face to it and releasing a frustrated scream.

Or maybe that was what I was imagining.

Because it was the truth. I wanted to scream.

Or maybe cry.

I wasn’t sure.

So, I opted to clutch my wine glass in my hands.

Maybe it wasn’t healthy, but tonight, it was my lifeline.

“Do you really think I’d joke around about something like that?”

“You’d better not. Good God almighty, Harley Hope. He’s a doctor. I should’ve seen it all along.” She fanned herself.

My eyes narrowed, my voice dropping to an incredulous whisper. “Why are you acting like this is a good thing?”

Hers widened, her brows disappearing behind her bangs. “Um . . . have we not established that man is nothin’ but straight deliciousness? He’s sex on a stick and should be licked up and down. I’d eat that boy with a spoon. Hell, you could name a cupcake after him and put one of those little stakes in it with a picture of his face. Bam. Bestseller. And he’s a doctor. Honestly, the only thing I’m seein’ here are the positives.”

“He’s Evan’s doctor.”

She shrugged. “So.”

“So I’m going to have to see him for basically all of forever.”

It was hard enough to resist him when he kept coming into my store.

Seeing him care for my son?

Those puddles he’d left me in during our date had up and boiled at the sight, leaving me a shaking, quivering mess of awe and desire. I’d sat there watching him from behind, my stomach clenching in need and my heart doing wild, wild things.

My subconscious had been quick to offer up all kinds of excuses to convince my mind why seeing him again would be just fine. A whisper that urged me to reach out, caress his striking face, to run my fingertips across that magnificent jaw.

And maybe, just maybe, it would be okay to reach out to touch on the beauty of his kind, genuine heart.

Shivers raced my spine.

That was definitely going to cause all kinds of problems I wasn’t sure I knew how to deal with.

“You don’t see the complication?” I asked.

She huffed. “You and your complications. What it seems to me is convenient. One-stop shopping. You are the one who’s always sayin’ she doesn’t have time.”

“This isn’t about having time, Jenna. You know that. This is about Dane.”

“Who you need to stop letting control you.”

“I’m not letting Dane control me. I’m trying to protect my son.”

“That’s it? You’re not going to see Kale anymore?”

I gave her a resolute nod that made a rush of sadness billow through my spirit.

Someday.

But as of right then, I had to make the sacrifice. This wasn’t about me, and I had to put my son first.

“That means you wouldn’t mind if I went for him then?” Jenna tossed out, sipping her wine as if I shouldn’t reach out and smack her just for suggesting it. “You know, I wouldn’t mind a little of that royal treatment.”

She waggled her brows. Goading me.

God, I never should have told her that. I was never gonna hear the end of it.

“You’re disgusting and crass and no longer my best friend,” I told her as petulantly as I could.

She laughed, set her glass down, and then scrambled across the couch, hugging me to her side. “You know you love me. Just like you know I love you. Which is why I want you to take care of you, too. You give and you give and you give, and you never know when that giving is finally going to bleed you dry.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I rested my head on her shoulder. “Evan is enough for me, Jenna.”

The only thing I needed, at least for a little while. Until life sorted itself out. Until we were free, and we could move on and leave the ugliness behind.

All I wanted was a safe, secure home for my son. That was what I’d strived for all along. I was determined to give it to him. The rest would fill itself in. I had faith that it would.

Jenna ran her fingers through my hair. “I know. I just want you to promise me you will remember that it’s okay to love, too, especially if you’re doing it because you want to instead of because you have to. You deserve it.”

“I know that. But right now, with Dane showing up here, I need to be careful.”

Honestly, I shouldn’t have been shocked when I’d received the papers that he was going after joint custody.

It was nothing but a show, I knew that. The vile man wasn’t doing anything but keeping up appearances and then turning right around and hating me for having the audacity to actually leave him.

I should have left him as soon as he’d reacted to the news of Evan’s heart the way he had, our son only a couple days old.

But I’d believed in him, in the man I’d thought I’d married, and had been certain it was only shock and grief and fear making him behave the way he had.

Rejecting our precious child as if he were a stain.

The years had whittled away that faith until there’d been nothing left before the proverbial final nail was driven into the coffin, the one that still made me sick to my stomach.

“Not all men are pricks, Hope. You just happened to marry one.”

“He definitely set the bar, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, so low the snake couldn’t even slither under it.”

Light laughter escaped me, and I let her hold me up for a little bit. When I heard the clatter of footsteps smacking the floor behind me, I shifted, turning to look back over the couch.

Evan stood there, dripping wet and making puddles on my wood floor, clutching the ends of the towel, which he hadn’t taken the time to actually dry with, to his chest.

He was grinning that smile that decimated me. My heart so full I was sure any second it would burst.

He hooked his towel under his chin and chest.

FINISHED, he signed.

GOOD BOY, I signed back.

Jenna shifted all the way around. “Come give Auntie a hug good night.”

Evan scrambled around the couch, throwing himself at her. My best friend squeezed him and wiggled him around. She roughed a hand through his wet hair. “Who’s my favorite little man?”

EVAN THE GREAT! he signed.

“That’s right,” she said. “Because You. Are. Great.”

Grinning from ear to ear, he nodded emphatically.

My miracle boy.

They say there is no love like a mother’s, and I’d never claim to love my child more than any other mother loved theirs. But what I did know with everything inside me was I couldn’t love mine more. That I’d never know a love greater.

He’d been written on me.

In me.

For me.

I knew I’d been the one created specifically for his care because I loved him in a way that no one else could.

In a way that was ours.

Whole and complete.

I pushed from the couch and set my wine on the coffee table.

TIME FOR BED.

He made an oh-man face, before he was trotting off toward his room, and by the time I made it there, he had already pulled on his underwear and tee. He jumped into bed, and I dimmed the light, crossed the room, and lowered to my knees beside him.

He pulled the covers up to his chest and wiggled beneath them.

COZY?

A nod, Evan still oozing love and smiles.

GOOD.

I hesitated, considering what to say. If I even should. I bit my lip as I stared down at my incredible son.

WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT TODAY? I finally asked.

In the dim light, his green eyes danced, his lips and hands quick with their reply.

ABOUT MY NEW DOCTOR?

We always mouthed the words to each other when we signed since Dane had refused to learn. He’d claimed we were only giving Evan a crutch. If he worked hard enough, listened better, if we didn’t coddle him, he might be normal.

What an asshole.

YES, I gestured.

I THINK YOU WERE RIGHT.

I frowned. ABOUT WHAT?

THAT HE’S NICE.

BECAUSE OF THE LOLLIPOPS?

He didn’t hesitate with his response. YES. THAT, AND HE’S GENTLE, AND HE DOESN’T WANT TO HURT ME.

My guts clenched. I DON’T THINK ANY OF YOUR DOCTORS WANT TO HURT YOU. SOMETIMES THEY HAVE TO. TO KEEP YOU HEALTHY.

With honesty, he blinked up at me. BUT SOMETIMES THEY GET USED TO IT, AND THEY FORGET TO BE CAREFUL.

My son saw things in a different way.

As if he were years older.

Insightful.

Quick and keen.

Kind and knowing.

Maybe it was because the constant noises most of us were inundated with were silenced for him. Because he could observe people without having to listen to the things they said. Actions always spoke so much louder than words.

I WISH YOU NEVER HAD TO HURT, I told him. IF I COULD, I WOULD TAKE IT ALL AWAY.

I KNOW, M-A-M-A. He signed Mama instead of Mom, which he only did when he wanted to make me feel special. I could feel the affection in it, his love as he spelled out the letters.

I smoothed my hand out over his chest, felt the steady thrum beneath my palm. My heart, I mouthed.

Evan reached out and set his on mine. My heart, he mouthed the same.

Smiling down at him, I brushed my fingers through his hair, leaned up, and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead.

I leaned back so he could see my mouth. “I love you.”

I LOVE YOU THE MOST, he signed.

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT? I teased.

Because it wasn’t possible.

Not when he was my center. My earth, moon, and sky.

* * *

Night seeped in through the window and branches scraped at the eaves in the slight breeze. The tiny lamp on my nightstand cast my bedroom in a golden glow.

Basking it in warmth.

I lay propped against the white fabric headboard, surrounded by pillows and huddled under my comforter, reading some smutty novel Jenna had shoved at me and insisted I read.

It wasn’t helping things. Not with the riot that had been ignited in my body. Not after Kale had taken me to a place where I’d touched on the most intense kind of beauty.

My phone lit up on the nightstand, vibrating on the wood.

Unease slammed me when I glanced at the clock.

Twelve thirty-three.

It wasn’t all that late, but . . . still. I hated that I was instantly on guard. Continually on watch. God, how I was counting the days to that court date circled on the calendar. Two months and all of this would be over, and then Evan and I could finally fully move on.

But Jenna was right.

It was time I stopped tiptoeing and allowing Dane to control me in the way only he could—through fear and apprehension. The asshole knew my weakness.

And my weakness was my son.

Taking in a steeling breath, I prepared myself to fight another battle in this war and swiped my thumb across the screen.

The air left me on a shaky exhale.

Not Dane. Emotion pulled tight across my ribs when my eyes moved over the text.

Kale: Your son is amazing.

That emotion climbed my throat and trembled across my lips. My tongue swept out to wet them, unsure of how to respond, wondering what good any of this would do.

Still, I found myself tapping out a reply.

Me: He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

I almost jumped when my phone buzzed in my hand.

Kale: He looks like you. He has your eyes. Your hair. Your smile.

Kale: Your heart.

That one came in a few seconds behind. As if he’d hesitated to say it.

Hands shaking, I replied.

Me: If I could, I would give him mine.

Time spun on, me staring at my phone, wondering why the man made me feel as if I could tell him anything.

It was probably stupid that I’d even returned his text. Because we’d already established that we couldn’t do this. That the timing was all wrong. And even if the timing were right, I really had no idea what Kale’s intentions would be. If he even wanted to date a woman with a child. Because Evan and I? We were a package deal.

But that didn’t mean my heart wasn’t fluttering in its confines, legs trembling with the rush of excitement that stampeded through my body, warming my flesh.

I sucked in a breath when he responded.

Kale: I think you already have.

A wistful smile lifted my mouth. Gratefulness a shaky heave from my lungs.

It was as if he got it.

Understood the sacrifice.

I should have shut the conversation down, but instead, I was typing out another reply.

Me: He likes you.

His response was instant.

Kale: I like him, too. A lot.

A second passed and then another text came in.

Kale: Problem is, I like his mom as well. Not sure what to do about that.

Butterflies scattered.

God, what was I doing? But I couldn’t stop the way my bottom lip quivered, the way my belly flipped, or the way my fingers were all too eager as they tapped across the screen.

Me: Then I guess it’s an even bigger problem that his mom likes his doctor, too.

I bit my lip, knowing I needed to rein this in, so I sent a second behind it.

Me: But we can’t do this, can we?

I didn’t know if it was a question or a plea. Because my mind was back there, on that balcony where he’d made me feel like a woman for the first time in years. As if I’d been exactly where I was supposed to be.

As if maybe I’d belonged there all along.

His breath on my neck and his hands on my body.

My name on his tongue.

A shiver rolled down my spine and need became an achy appeal in my core.

Kale: What? Text?

I could almost see him lifting that strong brow, biting his lip as he fought a mischievous smile. It took everything I had not to imagine him doing it on his bed with his shirt off.

Me: This isn’t a joking matter.

Kale: No?

Me: No.

Kale: You’re right. It’s not. But tell me one thing. What’s the second-best thing that’s happened to you? I’d bet my bank account it went down on that balcony.

Redness flushed my cheeks, and I typed out my response and hit send before I could think better of it.

Me: No man has ever made me feel the way you did.

Kale: That’s because you deserve a man who will treat you right. Guessing that fucker didn’t come close.

Wow.

I shouldn’t have been surprised.

I’d seen it in Kale’s eyes when I’d watched him come to the realization in the office earlier today. When it dawned on him exactly what was at stake.

Rage had burned across his face and tightened his hold, as if he didn’t want to let me go.

Then he’d realized he had to. That we might be drawn to each other, but our paths couldn’t connect.

Me: I can’t do this with you. There’s too much on the line.

Someday.

Someday, I could let myself get lost in the sea of a brilliant, beautiful man. Swept away. No need for solid ground because he would be my footing.

It took the longest time before a response came through.

Kale: I know. I know better. I’m sorry. I keep crossing that line when it’s clear neither of us are allowed to have what’s waiting on the other side. But you make it really damned hard not to try to jump over it.

Neither of us.

I frowned at that, wondering what he meant. What would hold him back—his own circumstances or my baggage? Maybe he didn’t have the capacity to be with someone like me.

Even if I weren’t in the middle of a divorce, my life would always be hinged on the most perfect complication.

The center of my world a red-headed, freckle-faced boy.

A bunch of texts blipped through in quick succession behind it.

Kale: Shit.

Kale: I’m sorry.

Kale: I’m fucking this up.

Kale: I just wanted to check on you both. Tell you, you have an amazing kid.

Kale: See what you do to me? You make me lose control.

An affected smile lit on my face. I had the unsettled feeling this man could be the completion of my joy.

I let the feeling take me over, gaze moving back over his words, wishing for a way.

Then I did what I knew I needed to do.

Me: Good night, Kale.

Kale: Good night, Hope.

I started to set it aside, but it blipped again.

Kale: Good night kiss?

Oh, this man. I was right all along. He really was trouble.

Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

I hoped it came across as stern and he couldn’t tell there was a giddy grin threatening to light on my mouth.

Kale: Boob shot? I’ll reciprocate.

It was no longer a threat, affection racing out, twisting my lips in a ridiculous smile, my heart beating overtime.

Me: You’re out of your mind.

Kale: I was thinking more along the lines of blowing yours.

Sitting in my bed, I laughed, out loud. It was as if I could actually feel his playfulness behind it. That easy confidence that had slipped into his tone.

Me: Go to sleep.

I was still wearing that silly grin when I hit send.

If only Jenna could see me right then.

Kale: If you won’t blow me a kiss, tell me you’ll at least dream of me?

I would not be admitting to that, though, the chances were good.

Me: Stop it.

When the next one came through, my heart grew heavy.

Kale: You’re beautiful, Hope. Seriously. That’s the last thing I’m going to say. Now I’m gonna back away.

I held his message to my chest and looked toward the ceiling, cherishing the words, fighting the urge to beg him not to.

Finally, I forced myself to set my phone aside.

I flipped off the lamp and curled on my side, hugging the comforter to my chest.

And it shouldn’t have been possible.

Not with everything that was going on.

But that night, as I drifted to sleep, I did so with a smile on my lips.

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