Page 72 of Everlasting Promises

“I’ve got this. Why don’t you put your feet up?” I suggest, tipping my chin toward the living room I’ve already put back together.

Her eyes trace over my face, and drop to my hands buried deep beneath bubbles in the sink. A slow grin takes over her face. “Okay.”

I finish in the kitchen, wiping down the counters and taking out the trash. With nothing left to do, I pour Hope a glass of wine, grab a beer, and wander into the living room. She’s curledup on one end of the couch, and soft music plays as she stares out the front window. I put our drinks on the coffee table, sit next to her—keeping a polite amount of space between us—then collect her sock-covered feet and place them in my lap. Without thinking too deeply, I dig my thumbs into the arch of her foot and massage.

She drops her head back on her shoulders with a soft moan, and my dick twitches in response. The sound of her pleasure vibrates through every cell in my body, heating my blood and waking that primal urge to claim her. “That feels so good,” she murmurs.

I adjust my position, making a little more room in my jeans. “Good to know.” I continue my ministrations, noting how small her feet are. I trace my eyes up her slender legs, to her narrow hips and even narrower waist. She has such a tiny frame, but from the photographs of her on the wall and mantel, I know she was never as slim as she is now, and I wonder if it’s because of the grief she’s living with.

“Thanks for coming today,” Hope murmurs, and when I lift my eyes from her feet, I find hers locked on me.

I raise and drop a shoulder. “If you or Evan want me here, there’s nowhere else I’d be.” I hope she understands what I’m saying. But just in case she doesn’t, I add. “I hope you know how important the two of you have become to me.”

She reaches out and grabs her wine, then sinks further into the couch, and it’s like her entire body sighs. “I know,” she whispers.

I watch her watching me as she takes a sip of her sweet wine. My eyes trace over her features, cataloging them. Neither of us speaks because there’s no need to fill the quiet. It’s perfect. This time, this space—it’s perfect as is.

“You don’t have the TV on.”

She snickers. “Yeah. I needed a little quiet after the noisiness of the day. Normally, I can’t stand the house being this quiet.”

“Why’s that?” She’s mentioned that the house is too quiet before, but is that all it is?

She adjusts her position, and the heel of her foot inadvertently presses against my dick.

Myharddick.

I freeze—unsure what she’ll do next. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull her foot away. I watch her swallow. When I look more closely, I notice the fast fluttering of her pulse at the base of her neck and her pupils eclipsing the aquamarine I love so much. My body heats, and my blood thrums through my veins as I watch her chest rise and fall quickly.

Neither of us moves or looks away, and the air grows heavy with tension. I wonder if she even realizes she’s aroused? Or has she closed herself off for so long that she’s forgotten she’s a woman who has needs and is allowed to have them fulfilled?

After a long silence, she moistens her lips, and I fight to hold in my groan. “I guess I like the noise, so I don’t feel so lonely. It was a strategy I developed whenever Wyatt was deployed before Evan was born. You’d think, with Evan in the house, I wouldn’t feel so lonely, but he’s often doing his own thing, especially now that he’s getting older. He doesn’t really like to hang out with me so much.” She shrugs and her fingers move to play with some invisible thread on her sweater and I sense her disappointment. “My fault, really. I’ve been so disengaged, so I can’t really blame him.”

I hate how hard she is on herself. “You were grieving.”

She shakes her head with vigor and places her wine back onto the table. “That’s no excuse. He needed me, and I wasn’t emotionally available to him. I’ll never forgive myself for abandoning my son like that, especially through his formative years. It wasn’t good enough to be going through the motions.He needed more. I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten himself into more trouble than he did.” Her shoulders rise and fall dramatically, and her chest expands and deflates with a loud sigh. “Everyone’s given me a pass becauseI’m grieving, but I failed at parenting 101, and I’ll work my ass off to make it up to him. He was grieving too, and I left him to flounder.” Her eyes glisten, and she presses her lips together, but not before I see them quiver.

Gripping her ankles, I pull her closer, then position her across my lap so I can wrap my arms around her. She presses her body into mine as a sharp sob breaks free, and she may as well have plunged a dagger into my heart and ripped it in two. Needing her closer, I cup the back of her head as she buries her face in my shoulder and cries.

Her pain.

Her guilt.

Her trauma bleeds into me, and I take it all, absorbing it and hoping that, by some miracle, this helps her let go of some of it. Her body shudders, and her tears soak through my sweater, but I don’t care. I’ll soak up her tears for eternity if she’ll let me—and I’ll consider it a honor.

All I can do is soothe her with gentle kisses to her hair and stroke her back softly as she purges her guilt and regrets. There are no words I can say to her. Deep down, she knows she’s not a terrible parent. If she digs beneath all the self-blaming and shaming, she’ll discover she hasn’t left Evan to flounder as much as she thinks she has. I’ve seen some shitty parents, and she’s definitely not one of them.

Slowly, her sobs subside, and her breathing evens out. Her body feels heavier against mine, and relief fills every cell in body that she’s calm again. I continue to stroke her slowly, but my eyes grow heavy, almost like I was the one to purge my heart.

When Hope doesn’t move, I drag the blanket from the back of the couch and gently drape it over her. She snuggles down into me further, burying herself inside my heart as she does.

One day, I’m going to marry this woman.

33

HOPE

I forgotto draw my curtains last night, is my first thought as the bright morning sunlight sends sharp pins through my eyes.

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