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Open Wounds: Abel and Hope: Love Against the Odds by Inger Iversen (12)

Hope

Hope’s entire adult life had always been about work, whether it was medical school, or her residency, she’d always found solace in a hard day’s work. But as she and Abel went about their week together, attempting to lure Edwin out, she finally realized what she’d been missing in life—true companionship. Not that she needed her life filled to the brim with people, but there was something about having a true companion that chased away some of the loneliness she felt over time.

The summer sun bore down on them as they walked hand in hand through the park. She and Abel had just finished a picnic, and Hope was stuffed to the brim with the food Abel had prepared. In the few weeks he’d been feeding her, she’d managed to gain a couple pounds, and the dark circles under her eyes had disappeared. She now had a healthy glow, as he’d made sure the sun met her skin at least once a day.

“What’s on your mind?” Abel asked, his voice breaking through the sounds of birds chirping and people playing in the park.

She glanced up at him. “The future.” Tightening her arm around his waist, she leaned into him. While she knew their relationship was supposed to be a show for Edwin, Hope couldn’t help but enjoy Abel’s touch. She placed head on his shoulder, and one of his hands on her hip.

“What about the future?” His tone was low, his eyes covertly surveying the surrounding area.

Hope turned and scanned the area as well, hoping if Edwin was near, he couldn’t see or sense the fear he’d placed in her. “I’m thinking about how close I am to having the future I’d planned for my entire childhood.” She felt Abel stiffen at her words. What had she said? Or did he see Edwin lurking about? Her survey of the park turned nothing up, but that didn’t mean Edwin wasn’t near.

“Are you thinking you can get your old job in New York back?” Hope noted his low tone and tight voice, and stopped her light stroll. Turning to face him, she kept his hands in hers while gazing into his eyes.

“No, I have a job here,” she said, hoping to pull from him the question she sensed he wanted to ask her. “I have a place here at the clinic, and I really enjoy the work. There are a lot of people in this town who can’t afford proper medical care, and Thea and I have done well combatting that. My goal in life has always been to make a difference in others, and to find my place in the world.” She shrugged. “Who knew I’d find it while on the run from Mark?”

Abel caressed Hope’s back. “Thank God that you found your place in the world, and thank God that place is near me.” His gentle words aided in her belief that they could have something more when this was over. Leaning in, he kissed her lips. The passion between them was too fierce to be something they’d just faked for their stalker. Hope pushed up on her tiptoes for more, but Abel pulled away. Frowning, she glared up at him.

He chuckled, leaned in, and whispered in her ear, “I can’t keep an eye out if I have my tongue in that sweet little mouth of yours.”

Hope blushed, the heat spreading over her face and down her chest.

He continued walking, guiding her down the brick path and to the bridge rising over the gleaming lake.

Hope quickly realized this was what a healthy relationship should be like. Take away Edwin, Mark, and the letters, and you had exactly what Hope had been searching for.

Suddenly, Abel’s arm tightened around her waist and she was twirled in a circle, her chest flush against his. He gripped her waist. “Pretend to kiss me, then lay your head on my chest,” he commanded, his voice stern and concise.

Hope did as told, placing a trembling kiss on Abel’s lips. She closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest. The world disappeared behind her closed lids, and Abel’s warmth enveloped her, reminding her that she no longer had to face this alone. Her heart began to race, beating so hard she feared it might break free from her ribs and chest.

His soft words met her ears. “There’s a man with a camera about thirty yards away.”

Hope felt a chill steal over her. “Is it Edwin?” she asked, working hard to hide the quaver in her voice.

Abel lifted her head, his fingers splayed through her hair. “I’m not sure.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s give him a moment to see what he does.” Though Abel stood vigilant and ready for action, his voice had become tender and his touches were soft and sensual.

Her fear eased, and her heart responded to his loving caresses. Nothing felt feigned for their audience. Hope, no longer allowing their stalker to direct her actions, reached up and laced her fingers through his blond hair. His eyes met hers and heat flared within their depths.

A sultry smile curved his lips. “While I love the feel of your hands on me,” his eyes flitted back to the man, “I think he has all the pictures he wanted because he is packing up his shit and leaving.”

Hope was surprised her normal fear was nowhere present at the mention of Edwin. She’d never needed a man to protect her, but unfortunately, Mark had nearly been successful in not only taking away her independence, but also her ability to have healthy relationships. Through Lex, Abel, and Thea, Hope had been given the push she’d needed.

Weaving her fingers through his, Hope squeezed. The idea that this crap could be over soon nearly overwhelmed her. “Well, it seems that worked.”

Abel gazed down at her as he pulled her forward. “Yes, it does.”

“And you are positive it was him?” she asked.

“Ninety-nine percent sure.” Abel seemed pensive, his eyes still scanning the area. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t follow us home.”

“So, we should probably push this along and have our dinner date then.” She blushed a little, remembering the conversation she and Abel had had about this date. Things would need to look more intimate between the two of them.

“I’m going to text V to get her to trace Mark’s whereabouts. She will let us know the second he leaves New York.”

***

Abel sat across the table from her in a dimly lit restaurant, wearing the sexiest navy-blue button up and a pair of dark jeans. She sat back in her low-cut, white cotton dress as Abel eyed the deep plunge of her neckline. In her entire life, she’d never made it past a B-cup and had even considered breast implants at one point; but now, as Abel watched her body, a pink blush spread from her chest to her face.

“Damn, that’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Picking up her glass of wine, Hope took a large gulp. She needed to slow down—the food hadn’t shown up yet and she was already on the second glass. Nervous from trying to draw out her stalker, while getting to know Abel, had her soaking it up like a sponge.

“Just taking in my date.” He winked and took a drink of his water. He’d refused to drink, just in case Edwin made an appearance … and for that, Hope was grateful.

She waved the waiter over for another glass of water, as she needed to slow down, or she would be drunk in no time.

“Hey,” he called, his soothing voice calming a bit of her nerves. “What’s going on?”

Hope pressed her palms to her belly. “Nervous flutters.”

Moving the centerpiece, he pushed his hands to her, palms up. “Talk to me.”

Hope nervously placed her hands in his. His strong hands enclosed hers, the warmth spreading from him to her cool fingers.

“What about?”

“You,” Abel suggested coolly, sad it surprised her.

Mark had never once asked her a question about herself, but had been more than willing to explain to her his struggles at Merrill Lynch, or at the gym. She struggled to come up with something to tell him. There were so many things she could talk about, but where to start?

“My real name isn’t Hope.” She returned his shocked expression with a sly smile. In fluent Korean, Hope spoke her full name and where her mother was originally from.

“What?” His delighted surprise made her giggle.

“Yep, Gidae, but you would pronounce it, Gi-day. I changed it to its meaning, Hope, when I was picked on in school for its rarity.”

He gently squeezed her hands, then flipped them over, tracing circles across her palms. Electricity raced up her spine. Hope’s body heated, and her head went fuzzy. His hands were so sensual, she could feel the tension building between them. And never once had she flinched or run from his touch.

“Man, I hate kids sometimes,” he said. “They can be ignorant and hurtful with their words.”

Yes, that was very true, but her childhood had been too amazing for her to hold on to a few memories of bullies. She shrugged. “That all seems so far in the past. I don’t think about it much now, but I just kept using Hope because it was easier than constantly correcting people’s pronunciations.” Gidae was a relatively easy Korean word, but most Americans butchered it horribly.

A smile grew across his face as he admired her. “Wow, I didn’t even know you were Korean. Not that Koreans look a certain way. Call me crazy, but I’ve worked in a Korean BBQ up north for a few years and you look nothing like any of the ladies I worked for.” He laughed nervously.

“How so?” Hope wasn’t in the least bit offended. Her mother was half-white and Korean, and her father was of mixed descent as well. She was a blend of many ethnicities, a melting pot of Asian and European descent, and she loved all her attributes. Her dark hair—so similar to her mother’s jet-black, silky tresses—and her pale skin, due more to her ethnicity than her recent bouts of lack of sun. Her skin reminded her of her father. He’d taught her German, promising her one day to take her to Germany, the home of his father’s ancestors. The memories were warm and welcomed, and too often ignored.

She quirked a brow when his eyes met hers, scrutinizing her face. “What in the world are you looking for?” she asked. Was she blushing again? Now she cursed her pale skin and its betrayal of her emotions. She tried to pull her hands from his to hide her blush, but Abel refused to let her go.

He smiled a purely decadent smile. “Baby, I’m not looking for anything. I’ve already found it.” As he spoke, his voice took on a reverent tone.

The sound caused her heart to quicken, and her breath whooshed out of her. What in the hell was he saying? For her, it was different when it was just sex. Sex could just be sex, but when emotions were added into the mix, she wasn’t sure how to react. She’d come from a relationship in which lies and pain were the norm. Could she even try for something serious with Abel, or would her past halt her happiness and destroy him? No, she wouldn’t allow this to happen. She wouldn’t allow the shadow of the past to choke the future and destroy any optimism trying to take root and grow.

The waiter gave her a moment of reprieve as he arrived with their food. Pulling her trembling hands away, Hope placed them in her lap. Her ragged breath came in pants, and for the first time in a long time, Hope enjoyed the anticipation of what would come next in the night. No fear of pain looming on the horizon, just more time spent with Abel.

As if on autopilot, Hope picked up her knife and fork and cut into the steak. She watched him across from her as he took his first bite. Though she felt nerves buzzing a mile a minute, Hope knew she’d be safe with Abel, but there was a concern that she hadn’t yet spoken to him about. Unwilling to ruin the night, Hope kept the concern of her inheritance to herself. She didn’t want to talk about her parents’ deaths, nor did she want to admit to Abel that she’d lost everything her mother and father had left her to Mark.

“So, tell me more about your life in New York.” He took another sip of water. “What was it like living in . . .” He trailed off because she hadn’t really told him much about her life in New York.

Biting her lip, she searched for something interesting to say. “Things are changing in New York. Rents are rising, the original New Yorkers are moving out, and we have this new wave of wealthy people moving in, driving the cost of everything up.” She shrugged. “I honestly prefer it in Blackwater, but that’s just my opinion. I’m sure you could find a hundred people who’d disagree.”

“Interesting. I didn’t know that, but I guess it all makes sense.” Abel dipped a steak fry into his ketchup. “Gentrification and all.” He popped the fry in his mouth and nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah. I mean, Thea’s place is in a great part of town and costs nearly four times the amount of the place you just rented. Space in New York is a commodity.” She placed her fork down and stole a sip of wine before continuing. “My friend had a place with a view of Central Park.”

“Millionaire?” He quirked a brow and she nodded. “Damn, it sounds like you like to hobnob with the rich and famous.”