Hope's Redemption (Redemption Road Book 2), page 17
“What? It’s absolutely true. If you love that man—and we both know you do—then there should be nothing in this world keeping you apart.”
“Everything keeps us apart,” I admitted on a choked whisper. “We missed our chance, Grace.”
“Bullshit. You didn’t miss anything. You’re giving it up.”
“No—”
“Yes. You are. You’re a smart girl. You could figure things out if you wanted to.”
“He doesn’t want me.” I voiced my biggest, deepest, most soul-crushing fear.
“Hope. If you believe that, then you are deaf, dumb, and blind. He’s miserable here without you.”
I dropped my head as the breath rushed from me and I realized why all the color had suddenly left my world.
I’d left it behind in Redemption.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tobias
Business was good since everything settled down with my charges. Booming actually.
CJ was fucking thrilled that I’d hired Adam, and he was turning out to be one hell of a quick learner. I wasn’t letting him anywhere near a tattoo gun just yet, but he was soaking in the basics of the instruments and the art like a sponge. He was a natural—definitely a better artist than me by a mile. And having a pretty boy around the shop wasn’t hurting business either, especially with the female clientele. Not that he’d noticed. You’d think prison had made my brother into a monk, except for when little Faith McMasters came around. Then all bets were off.
But Faith had made herself scarce, which seemed to suit Adam just fine. I knew he had to wonder what she was up to. Hell, I did. We’d been intertwined with the McMasters sisters since we were kids.
The Redemption Road church had suspended services for the two months since the reverend’s funeral. I’d heard through the rumor mill that there was a search on for his replacement. I wondered if Faith would stay on working at the church now that her father wasn’t the pastor or if she’d find something else.
But mostly, I wondered how Hope was doing back in Atlanta. I hated that I cared about her at all, and I despised the ways she’d creep into my dreams at night and thoughts during the day when I wasn’t paying attention. The woman had gone and gotten under my skin again and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, and there was no way to get her out. Not this time. I was doomed to a lifetime of Hope-induced misery without her.
You can go to Atlanta.
The voice in the back of my mind whispered that traitorous idea at odd times of the day and night, but I savagely cut it off. No way, no how was I subjecting myself to another humiliating trip to Atlanta. She knew my number and she hadn’t used it. Enough said.
“What do you think, Henry?” I asked, bending over to ask my fish buddy. “What do you think of Atlanta?” He just swished around, ignoring me. “Yeah, you’re right. Bad idea.”
I dropped a few flakes of food in his bowl, then moved to my bedroom to finish getting ready for work. Matching my mood, I was in all black—jeans, t-shirt, combat boots, thick leather watch. My hair was getting long, and I made a mental note to get it cut soon. Fuck the shave.
I stuffed my wallet in my pocket, palmed my keys, and strode out the front door.
I stopped short when I found Hope leaning against the driver’s side door of my Charger.
Her head was down, but she lifted it when she heard me, her long waves dancing around her shoulders, those dark eyes studying me with an emotion I couldn’t name.
My gaze drifted from her face down her body, encased in a formfitting black dress and heels, much like the night we’d made love at her house again after all those years apart . . . as if she’d also gotten the memo of emotion to match mine.
I shifted my keys from one hand to the other as she stepped toward me.
She got close enough for me to catch her scent. Honeyed roses. Sweet. Dangerous. “Hey,” she said, her eyes wary, her back straight.
“Hey.”
She eyed me from the scruff of my jaw down to my boots. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“I was just on my way to the shop.”
She nodded once, biting her bottom lip as she glanced away, giving away a tiny hint of her nerves, which was not like the Hope I knew.
“What are you doing here? Everything okay with your sisters?” It was the only thing I could figure that would bring her back to Redemption.
Her gaze slid back to mine full of emotion. Full of uncertainty. “I’m here for you.”
I blinked, taking in her words, even though they did not compute. “Sorry?”
“No. I’m sorry.” She took another step in my direction with her hand raised to touch me, but I stepped back. Hurt filled her face and she let her arm drop. “Tobias, please.”
“Please what? You left me not once, but twice, Hope. You’ve made it pretty clear that your life isn’t here, so . . .” I stepped around her with my key fob in hand, unlocking the Charger with a satisfying click. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”
“Do you love me?”
Her words stopped me cold, my gaze fixed on my car.
Slowly, I turned my head to look at her and our eyes clashed. “What?”
“Or do you think you could ever love me again? After everything?”
Love her again?
Had I ever stopped?
I could hardly remember the beginning, I’d loved her so damn long. She was my every breath, my every heartbeat, my reason for being. Literally the only reason I got up every morning now was out of habit and because I had to for my brother. He needed me and that gave me some push toward survival. But Hope? She was the one who filled all my empty spaces, and without her, I was nothing but a blank canvas.
Still, I didn’t think I could take the torment of losing her a third time. I couldn’t.
“That’s not fair,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to ask me that. Not now.”
She inched closer and tentatively placed her palm over my hand, covering the word ‘pain’ on my knuckles, which were now white from where I was clenching my fist. “I haven’t been fair to you, Tobias, you’re right. And I’m sorry.” She squeezed my hand until I accepted hers. “It’s not an excuse, but I think you’re the only person in this world other than my sisters who understands me and why I ran.” She lifted our joined hands and kissed my knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Hope—”
She shook her head as I opened my hand and cradled her face in my palm. She closed her eyes, enjoying the touch.
I did understand, but I also wanted to hold on to my own hurt. She was making it hard.
She turned her head and kissed my palm, then faced me. “Is there any chance you can take the night off?”
“I don’t know if—”
She wrapped her hand around my wrist and rubbed my pulse gently. “It’s fine. If you can’t, I’ll just wait here until you get back. I’m not leaving until we get a chance to talk.”
I debated it for a moment, then decided it might be best to hear her out. There wasn’t anything booked tonight that CJ couldn’t handle. With a nod, I drew back and pulled out my cell phone to call him and let him know I’d be out, and he was in charge.
I faced her again. “Okay. Let’s talk.” I moved to head back inside, but she didn’t try to follow.
I turned back, my brow lifted in question.
She gave me a coy little smile. “Actually, I was hoping we could take a little ride in the Bel Air?”
What she meant by a little ride in my Bel Air was actually a two-hour trip to the French Quarter.
To The Rogue, more specifically.
A part of me screamed this was a terrible idea, but a bigger part of me wanted to see what she was up to. She’d said she wanted to talk, but she was remarkably quiet on the drive, keeping it to tiny spurts of small talk about her sisters and a few snippets about people in town. Nothing important. She was holding back until we got to our destination, though I had no idea why.
As teenagers, we used to sneak out to this place with our fake IDs and drink the cheap beer, people watch, and listen to the jazz music. Something in the dark wooden walls of that place hid our secrets well and let us explore the steamier side of New Orleans and ourselves. I hadn’t been in years and I wondered if it was the same.
We parked and headed to the front. No more fake IDs as she paid our entry fee and we went inside.
She grabbed my hand and led me to the same booth to the left side of the stage where we always used to sit, and I slid inside.
She leaned down so I could hear her over the smooth jazz band that was already playing nearby. “I’m gonna go get us some drinks.”
I nodded and when she was gone, I took in the sprinkling of couples dancing and groping on the small dance floor as well as the other interesting characters interspersed at the tables and booths. It was early, so the place wasn’t overly crowded yet.
Hope returned a few minutes later with a tray that held two draft beers and four shot glasses. Plain, just like the one I had at home. My heart lurched in my chest as I met her eyes, but she didn’t do anything but sit next to me and hand me a shot.
She picked up one for herself, then held it up. “To us.”
We clinked and threw back the smooth tequila, better than anything we could have afforded as teenagers, then thunked our glasses down on the table.
Next, she offered me one of the beers.
She took a few sips, then finally glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “I fell in love with you here.”
I had my beer halfway to my mouth and paused as I realized she was diving into whatever she wanted to talk about. I put my mug down carefully and turned to face her in the booth. “Ditto.”
This seemed to fortify her a bit. “And I need you to know that I’ve never stopped loving you, Tobias. Not for one second. Never. In fact . . . since we’ve reconnected, I think . . .” Her gaze dropped from mine as if her liquid courage wasn’t sustaining her.
“Since we’ve reconnected, what?” I dipped my head down, tipping her chin up to find her eyes.
The music quieted as the song changed and she swallowed, her next words breathy. “I’m more in love with you now than ever.”
I studied her face, searching for the catch. Surely, there had to be one. She’d ghosted me for weeks. Not a word, definitely nothing about love.
“Say something, please,” she pleaded, tears crowding her eyes.
And that’s when I realized she was telling me the truth. My girl was a runner and she’d run because she was scared. Being vulnerable wasn’t in her nature because she’d spent a lifetime being hurt by the one man who was supposed to protect her and had failed spectacularly.
Yet, she’d finally come back to me and was offering me her heart.
“What changed?” I asked. I had to know so I could trust this. “After all the years we spent apart, even after these past weeks, why are you back here now telling me this?”
“Because I’m ready,” she said simply.
I tilted my head at that.
“I’m ready,” she said again. “You know how you couldn’t leave Redemption back then because you had to take care of Adam and your grandparents, but I had to leave for my own sanity?” I nodded. “Then you came to me when I was with Oliver and again, our timing was off, but I wouldn’t have been ready then either, because I was still finding myself as a woman on my own and as a lawyer, plus I was still very angry with my dad. With that whole town, really.” She reached out and brushed a hand down my chest. “I’ve done a lot of soul searching and healing these past couple of months. I’m finally in a place where, while I’m not totally over everything in my childhood, I’m working through it and I’m not letting it hold me back anymore.”
“That’s good.” She deserved that. She really did.
“I know. But more than that, I realized in letting it hold me back emotionally, it was holding me back from you, and that wasn’t okay.” She inched forward. “Because you are my person, Tobias. That’s just a fact.”
I couldn’t help the half smile that inched up my mouth. “Is it now?”
“Yes.” She moved even closer. So close, her intoxicating scent was wrapping around my heart and making me crazy. “And I want to be your person, too.”
She reached over to the tray and slid one of the cocktail napkins my way, her phoenix wrist tattoo so dark and sexy in this lighting.
It took me a second to focus on the tiny white cloth she’d placed in front of me.
Then I saw the dark-purple ink, fresh this time, so it was obvious she’d just written the words. The same ones of our past, yet so new.
H + T 4Ever
My eyes ripped up to hers. “What is this?”
“A fresh start?”
I stared at her as the music changed again, a sensual rhythm drifting over and around us, cocooning us in a lover’s melody.
She kept her gaze locked on mine, daring me to believe her. Believe in this, whatever it was.
“Hope, we can’t just—”
“Do you remember what you said to me the night I told you I couldn’t marry you?” she cut me off.
I took a breath, my hand tight on my beer. “Yes.”
“You said, ‘If you walk away from me, don’t expect me to forgive you. And don’t ever expect me to ask you again. I’m not in the business of groveling. Love is love and if we’re not in this together, we’re not in it at all.’”
“Yeah, well, I was pissed.” I honestly couldn’t believe she remembered all that. How fucking dramatic I was. I looked away and sipped my beer.
“But you were right.”
I looked back.
“At least about the love part. If we’re going to be in it, we need to be in it together.” She pried my drink from my hand and traced her finger over her name. “Can you forgive me?”
“I did that a long time ago,” I murmured.
Relief washed over her features. “I do love you, Tobias.”
“I love you, too.” I couldn’t hold it back anymore and I wasn’t going to play games with either of our emotions.
Her smile rivaled the sun. “You do?”
“Jesus, Hope. Of course, I do.”
Her body wilted in a sigh and she dropped her head back as if thanking her lucky stars before looking at me again with a dazzling smile. “Thank God.”
“Yeah, well . . .” I tipped back the last of my beer, then pushed the glass away. “I’m still not sure what this changes. I live in Redemption; you live in Atlanta. Our history is complicated as—”
She cut off my words when she slid into my lap, straddling my hips with her knees, making her dress hike up high on her thighs, her fingers forking through the hair near my nape. It felt so much like the old us, it made me ache. “Do you love me?” she asked again.
I frowned. “I just told you I do.”
“And I love you. It’s only complicated if we make it complicated.”
This did not sound at all like the Hope I knew. Still, it felt like her as I put my hands on her curvy hips to pull her closer. Everything in me wanted to jump feet first into whatever it was she was offering because nothing felt as good without her in my life. But I also knew how she could shred my heart.
“Tobias, I need you. I think we could have a good life together.”
I tried to focus on her words as her nails did maddening things to my scalp, but it was damn hard.
“You said you’d never propose again, and that’s fine because I’m on it.”
“Wait. What?”
I stopped short when I looked down at the black ring she held between our bodies, the glint of a fiery silvery pattern embedded in the black glinting up at us.
My eyes shot up to hers in complete and utter shock.
“Marry me?”
Holy shit, she was serious.
Without another thought, I slid both my hands through her hair and dragged her lips to mine in a fierce kiss. I dove in with lips and tongue, pouring every ounce of emotion I had into her, which she swallowed eagerly and gave right back.
With a groan, she ground down on my now hard cock, her body rocking to the rhythm that was ours alone.
She drew back, her breath coming in choppy pants, her eyes heavy with lust. “Is that a yes?”
“That’s a hell yes. I’ll go to Atlanta for you. I’d go to the fucking moon for you.”
This made her laugh. “Good thing you don’t have to. I accepted a position with a firm here in New Orleans.”
Speechless again, I just blinked as she laughed.
“You—what?” I shook my head. She’d been busy. Planning for a life with me. “You’re serious?”
“I hope so,” she smirked. “I start there in two weeks.” She raised an eyebrow. “Think we can make that work?”
Love roared through my chest like a hurricane for this woman. Fierce and a bit reckless. “Fuck yes.”
She nodded, then slid that ring on my left hand with a kiss to my knuckles. She glanced up with a smile. “Looks good.”
“Don’t think you’re not getting a big fucking diamond,” I warned.
“Oh, I’m gonna hold you to that,” she said, her grin growing to epic proportions as she turned enough to flip over that napkin to show me the other side. Perhaps it was a prediction? A wish?
A lipstick kiss with her signature beneath it.
Hope Bishop 4Ever . . .
EPILOGUE
Hope
I wasn’t in a huge hurry to get married, honestly. I was just happy to have Tobias back and to be getting my life back together.
And, God, I was happy.
Finally, and for once, I was blissfully, almost painfully happy, though some days it took all I had not to ruin my own good mood with worrying that something would come along and burst my bubble. It was a constant battle sometimes but having Tobias by my side really helped.
I’d settled things in Atlanta and started with my new firm, a much smaller family law practice that I really loved, in New Orleans. Tobias still ran his shop and was talking about maybe opening another one.
