Page 14 of Everlasting Promises

Her head snaps to her son, who bears the same freckles across his nose and cheeks as she does. “What on earth is going on?” she asks Evan, but he drops his gaze to his feet and shuffles in place without answering her. His shoulders hunch, and the scent of shame fills the air as he fidgets with the hem of his T-shirt.

Her eyes rise to meet mine, the stunning aquamarine overflowing with questions, so I step forward and hold out my hand. “Sergeant Taylor.”

She slides her small palm along mine, and the warmth from her touch scalds me, sending flames licking up my arm as I wrap my fingers around hers. “Hope Sullivan. What’s this about, Sergeant?” When I release her hand—much too soon for my liking—she raises it to stroke Evan’s hair. “S-sorry, where are my manners? Would you like to come inside?”

“Sure. That’d be great.” She steps inside and holds the screen door open for me. I wipe my boots on the mat, then step closer to her and Evan. I’m immediately enveloped by her soft vanilla scent that’s reminiscent of my favorite cookie. Everything about this woman is femininity personified—from her delicate bone structure and petite frame to her curly, honey-colored hair and the fragrance she wears. My protective instincts kick into overdrive.

“Do you realize you left your front door unlocked?” I ask as we wander down the hallway, passing photo after photo of a young, loved-up couple, gradually aging into a family of three. The man wears a military uniform in several of the images, and one shows Hope wearing a pink tutu and pointe shoes. It’s like a timeline, showing their life over the years. Hope looks different in the images. Happier. Lighter somehow.

“Was it? I guess I forgot to latch it,” she says, unbothered, as voices filter from the living room where I assume the television is on.

“May I suggest you ensure it’s always locked, ma’am?” I tell her as I follow her into an open kitchen/dining room that leads back into the living room I passed on the way in. It’s light and airy, with mixing bowls and cooking trays spread across the countertops.

She reaches up into a cupboard, exposing an inch of pale smooth skin above her fitted jeans. “Yeah, sure. I usually have it locked. Do you want a cup of coffee?”

Since I’m on patrol, I shouldn’t stop for long. I should explain what happened and invite Evan to join my program, but I’ll be damned if I can tear my eyes from this beauty. “Sure, coffee would be great, thanks.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black, thank you.” I drag a stool out, adjust my pants that are growing tighter by the second, and sit at the counter next to Evan.

“So is anyone gonna tell me what’s going on?” Hope asks as she makes our drinks.

I nudge Evan. “Are you gonna tell your mom, or should I?” I lean in close to his ear and lower my voice. “It usually works out better if you come clean yourself.”

He looks up at me with a miserable expression and drops his shoulders in defeat, then tells her what happened.

She passes my coffee to me across the counter, and then slams her fists into her slim hips. “Evan Wyatt Sullivan,” she snaps. “We did not bring you up to be so disrespectful. How dare you steal property and disrupt someone’s business? I thought you were at Elliott’s house!” Her eyes narrow. “So now you’re lying to me?” Hurt reverberates in her voice, and I sense their relationship is a little fractured.

He drops his head, shifting on the stool. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Why would you lie to me?” she asks softly, her worried gaze locked on her son as she leans on the counter across from us.

One small shoulder rises and falls as Evan traces an imaginary pattern on the counter. “I’m just trying to fit in and make new friends.”

Hope’s eyes rise to mine, her face full of disbelief and pain. “What happens now? Will he be charged? We can go back so Evan can apologize, and I’ll pay for anything he stole.”

I shake my head. “Evan didn’t actually steal anything. According to the gas station manager, his friends were responsible for most of the trouble. Evan has already apologized for his part, and even though the manager was upset and angry, he conceded that a warning would be enough this time.” I look down at Evan. “Because it’s not gonna happen again, right?” I raise a brow and wait for him to respond.

“No, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not, Ev. I’m gonna have to take your computer games away from you, and you’re grounded for a month.” I wince. I’m glad she’s taking this seriously, but that’s probably a little harsh.

Evan’s shoulders curl inward. “Yes, Mom.” He looks up at his mom, his eyes beseeching. “Can I still play soccer?”

Hope blows out a long breath and runs her fingers through her curls. “I guess. It wouldn’t be fair to let your team down, but that’s it, Evan. And we’ll be going back to that gas station so you can apologize again.”

He nods, still focusing on the countertop. “Can I go to my room?”

With an exasperated sigh, Hope nods.

Evan hops down from his stool and looks up at me. “Thanks for talking to the manager about not pressing charges and for bringing me home. I’m sorry.” He leaves the room with slumped shoulders before I can say anything further, and Hope sags against the counter as she watches him leave.

“I’m so sorry and embarrassed. You must think I’m a terrible parent, because I didn’t know where my son was or what he was up to.” Pink tints her porcelain cheeks, making her freckles stand out. Her bottom lip trembles, but she presses her mouth into a tight line, and I watch as her posture stiffens.

“Not at all. Kids can be pretty creative when they want to be, and I get the impression he’s learned his lesson. I don’t think he’ll repeat the behavior. I believe he’s trying to fit in with his friends.” I shrug. “Sometimes kids make a bad judgment call.”

“He started middle school, and it’s changed him. He’s been more moody and angry, but I never expected this from him.” She slides her fingers into her hair, holding them there for a moment, keeping the curls away from her face and exposing that smooth swathe of perfect skin at her waist again. “I don’t knowwhat’s going on with him. I guess it’s hormones—or whatever.” She seems lost. They both do.

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