“It’s a great starting price, Ms. Kendall. I’m sure you’ll have a number of offers right away.”
I honestly don’t care. “Do what you have to.”
Sheila pauses and gives all the empty space a sour look. “I wish you’d left furniture in the bedrooms.”
I shrug because I don’t care about that either. Let her work to earn her five percent commission. “Sorry, it couldn’t be helped.”
She sighs and slips her notes into her handbag. “Leo should have the sign in the ground in a few minutes. I’ll put a lockbox on the door if that’s okay? I’ll call you before showing it to anyone, though.”
“That’s not necessary.” One way or another, I won’t be spending another night in this house.
After the realtor leaves, I wander outside. There’s a white pickup truck full of lumber and signs at the end of my driveway. My “For Sale” sign looks pretty damn good right in the middle of the grass that borders the quiet, dead-end street.
The truck does a lazy circle in the cul-de-sac and leaves. After watching it disappear down the street, I pull out my cell phone. Blood thunders through my ears, drowning out the sounds in my quiet neighborhood. My stomach twists, but before I can chicken out, I send Rock a text.
I need to speak with you.
I don’t know what the hell I’ll do if he doesn’t answer.
Thankfully, I don’t have to figure it out, because my phone vibrates almost immediately.
Where are you?
My house.
Give me 20.
Air rushes out of my lungs as relief washes through me. He’s coming. I can do this. I need to do it now. Before someone else tells him.
It’s another beautiful spring day. Warmer than yesterday, but not too warm. With the unpredictable weather we get in upstate New York, it could be like this until mid-June or it could be ninety degrees next week. So I sit down in the grass beside the for sale sign and soak up the pretty day while I wait.
I’m not waiting long until I hear the rumble of his bike. The sound sends a thrill through me.
He’s here.
Hope’s ring burns a fucking hole in my pocket the entire way to her house. I can’t describe the relief that went through me seeing her name pop up on my phone. The text she sent is so perfectly Hope. I’m a little ashamed she reached out to me first when I know damn well how hard that is for her.
There’s not a thing in this world that could have stopped me from going to her. I don’t know what she wants to talk about. It doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving without her on the back of my bike. At least I know that much.
As always, her narrow road is quiet. I’m reminded of before we were together. All the times I drove by her house, dying to catch a glimpse of her. Then I finally had her, but I let her go. Pushed her away instead of helping her.
I’m lucky she wants to talk to me.
As I approach, I catch her sitting in the grass next to a big white for sale sign. My heart speeds up at the sight. Of her. Of the sign. What I pray like fuck she’s brought me here to tell me. Her head tips up, her lips curving into the sweetest smile. I’ve missed that smile.
At the curb, I shut down the bike and take a moment to fill my lungs with air.
Hope unfolds herself from the ground. “Hi,” she says softly.
I’m fighting every urge inside me to wrap her in my arms and kiss the ever-loving fuck out of her. I lift my chin at the sign. “What’s this?”
Her hands flutter nervously in front of her. “I wanted you to… I wanted to tell you… for you to see. I put it up for sale today.”
My heart constricts and I swallow hard. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes. I did.”
Her head drops and she stares at the grass for a few seconds before finally looking up and meeting my eyes.
“Will you come inside?”
It takes a minute to loosen my tongue. “Yeah. Sure, doll.”
Her eyes widen in shock, but she nods, turns, and walks up the driveway. I catch up to her easily. Our arms brush, but her hands are stuffed in her pockets, so I do the same. With measured calm, I take in the storage container next to her garage. This could be something else. She might tell me she’s decided to move to the other side of the country. I wouldn’t put an impulsive move like that past my girl.
And then what the fuck would I do?
Follow her wherever the fuck she goes and drag her back home with me.
She holds the door open for me to follow her inside. As usual, Hope’s a contradiction of shy and sexy. So sweet I want to lick her all over. So sexy I want to take her to the floor and fuck the hell out of her.
Without words, she walks me to her bedroom.
I stop dead when we cross the threshold.
It’s bare. Empty.
Everything gone.
I don’t know what to think, so I blurt out the first thing that pops in my thick skull. “Your whole bedroom set didn’t fit in that little box outside?” I ask, jerking my thumb in the direction of her driveway.
“No. I sold it. To a nice young married couple. They came and got it this morning.”
“Oh,” I say lamely. “What are you going to do?”
Instead of answering, she walks over and opens her closet door. No more explosion of clothes inside. It’s as empty as the rest of the room. Except for two big blue suitcases she rolls out. My heart skips. I can’t fit those on the back of my bike.
“Well, I was hoping I could come home with you.”
“No. You can’t.”
She reels back as if I slapped her, and I rush to correct myself. “I mean, Bricks and Winter moved into my house. I’m up at the clubhouse full time now.”
Shiny tears threaten to fall, her cheeks reddening. “Oh. Sure. Okay. I, uh… My plan B was a hotel. It’s—”
My girl’s so nervous. Even all teary-eyed, she’s beautiful, and I want to stop time just to take her in, but I can’t stand another second of her hurting. Pulling her into my arms and running my hands over her back, I kiss the top of her head. “Baby doll, it’s okay. Of course you’re coming home with me. Did you honestly think I was leaving here without you?”
She pulls away and stares up at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. I swipe them away with my thumbs. “Please don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I can’t stop the tears. I hate that I’ve hurt him. “Rock. I’m so sorry. I don’t ever want you to think you don’t come first for me. You do.”
“Baby, you’ve never made me feel that way.”
I grasp his hand, kissing his scarred knuckles. “I love you. So much. More than anything. Please tell me you know that.”
He hugs me tight against him, and I soak up all the comforting warmth his body offers. “I know you do. I’m not stupid. I know it hasn’t been that long.”
It surprises me that the first thing he mentions is Clay. “It’s been more than two years.”
“Doll, you spent most of your adult life with him. Two years is nothin’.”
Have I ever known a more understanding and forgiving person? No, and I don’t know what I did to deserve him. He needs to hear the full truth from me. I owe him that. “It’s not just Clay. It’s losing the baby. Not sure if I can give you any—”
“Hope. You have to talk to me. You can’t keep shit like that from me.”
“You have so much on your shoulders already. I’m so afraid if I distract you with my silly stuff or add to your stress—”
“Stop. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. You can—about anything. You had a life before me. I know that. Your loyalty, your devotion, it’s why I fell in love with you in the first place. All those prior experiences made you who you are.” He hesitates and runs his hand through his hair. “I think I’ve got my own fucking guilt, doll. I used to wish so fucking bad you could be mine. Knowing if he was still alive, I’d never have you, I feel like—”
I cry even harder at that. “I don’t even know if that’s true anymore.”
Rock freezes and pins me with a shocked stare. “What?”
One of the painful things I’d been hiding comes out of me in a rush. “I don’t. I love you so much. I know I told you Clay and I had a good marriage, and we did. But it wasn’t anything near what you and I have.”
I can’t believe I said that out loud. I have to finish, though.
“Once that thought formed, I couldn’t shake it. I started having these dreams where Clay and I divorced so I could be with you, and he was happy with someone else too. And then I’d wake up with such crushing guilt.”
“Baby, why didn’t you tell me—”
“Then that scene with Lynn made me feel so much worse… about everything.”
“I could kill that fucking bitch,” he growls.
“Not if I get to her first.”
Laughter rumbles out of him and he shakes his head. “You are my little spitfire. Still proud of you for slapping her.”
Nervous laughter bubbles out of me. Especially the way he’s staring down at me with a more serious expression settling over his features. “I want you to talk to me about whatever is on your mind. It’s okay to tell me about your first wedding. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
My breath catches when I remember my wedding album that I left up at the clubhouse. Did he look at it? Did he see?
Rock must sense my mind wandered, because he squeezes me a little harder. “Don’t think you have to hide those stories from me. I’m sorry if I tried to push you into marriage too fast.” He stops and runs a hand over my cheek. “You took my patch, which was so important to me, baby doll. I didn’t need to be greedy. I know you’re mine no matter what. As long as I have you, the rest doesn’t matter.”
“You have me. I don’t know why you want me, but you have me.”
He shoves his hand in his pocket, uncurling his fingers. “Good, then put this back on.”
My engagement ring rests in his palm, and my face breaks into a grin. “You want me to have it back?”
“Of course. We don’t have to get married now. Or next week. Next month. Whenever you’re ready.”
I hold out my hand, and he slides it back on my finger. “I’m getting there.”
“I know you are.”
We’re silent for a moment while I stand there and absorb the feeling of belonging again. Rock’s leather and woods scent comforts my racing heart. After a bit, I step back and make a show out of patting down his leather cut, searching his many pockets.
His forehead crinkles. “What are you doing?”
“You brought my ring. Where’s my patch? I want that back too.”
His shoulders shake with laughter.
“It’s waitin’ for you.”
I can’t process all the things Hope just admitted to me, so I focus on the things I can deal with.
Getting her ring on her finger.
Getting her on the back of my bike.
Bringing her home.
It wasn’t anything near what you and I have.
Here I’m always worried I’m not good enough for her. That she deserves some nice citizen husband.
And then she goes and admits that.
Holy fuck.
Because there are so many things I can’t give her, I try damn hard to give her everything else in my power.
Every fight we’ve had, every frustrating moment, has been worth it to hear those words.