Page 83 of Everlasting Promises

She sighs. “I’d like to talk with you about it. I mean, if you have time.”

“I have nothing but time for you … and for Evan.” I drop back onto my bed and get comfortable again, shoving my pillows behind my back.

She blows out a long breath, and I hear the rustle of fabric. “I’ve had an emotional day all around. First, this morning with you, then Mom insisted on having lunch together. She was adamant I haven’t screwed up Evan and that all parents question their ability to parent. And while I’d love to believe that’s true, I feel as though she’s only saying that to relieve some of the burden from my heart.”

I nod even though she can’t see me, and when she pauses, I jump in. “I’m not a parent, so I don’t know how it works from personal experience, but in my line of work, I see a lot of kids who have definitely been emotionally abandoned or physicallyforgotten by their parents. The signs of their neglect are as obvious as a neon sign to me, and I want to tell you that Evan doesn’t bear any. Sure, he made an error in judgment with his new friends, but he was genuinely remorseful. He’s a great kid, Hope. He has a strong moral compass, and he’s well cared for and loved. The minute I laid eyes on him in the gas station, I knew he was a good kid who’d made a mistake.”

“As much as I wish he’d never gotten caught up with those boys, I’m thankful you’re the one who brought him home. I’m not sure if the positive change in Evan would have happened if it weren’t for you.” I draw in a silent breath, caught off guard by her declaration. Something deep inside me warms with her acknowledgment. “I’m so appreciative of the time and compassion you’ve given Evan. The change in him has been … remarkable … and so good for my soul.”

I rub my hand over the top of my head, sending flashes of Hope cutting my hair through my mind. “As I said, he’s a good kid.”

“He is.” She pauses for a long time, and I wonder if that’s the end of the conversation. “Then, this afternoon, Clara called while Evan was playing soccer.” The tone of her voice has changed, grown heavier, more weighed down. “She wanted the lowdown about you.” She chuckles mischievously.I wonder what she had to say about me?“I told her I cheated on Wyatt,” she murmurs so softly, and I’m unsure if I heard her correctly.

Cheated?

But how?

Then, as if lightning strikes, realization hits me. She still considers herself a married woman. She still wears her wedding ring and still holds herself to the same promises she made when she made her vows to Wyatt. Guilt crawls its way up my throat and tears out of my mouth. “I’m so sorry, Hope. I should havestopped things before they went that far.” I can’t believe I put her in that position. I’m such a selfish ass.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything. That was all on me, and I realized this afternoon that if … if I had the chance … if you were even remotely interested … after my breakdown and all … I … uh … I’d like to do it again some time,” she whispers the last part, as if she’s worried I’ll deny her.Does she not realize I’d never deny her anything?

My heart takes off at a gallop. I thought this conversation was her way of telling me nothing could happen between us again. Instead, she’s surprised the hell out of me. “Hope.” Her name escapes my lips on a breath, mixed with compassion and need. “Don’t ever doubt my interest in you,” I almost growl—disappointed. Frustrated she hasn’t been paying attention.

Her breaths echo across the line. “Oh-kay.” Her nervous chuckle follows after a few seconds. “So … uhm … maybe we could go on a da?—”

“Yes!” I almost shout and she chuckles more freely. “I’d love to take you on a date,” I rush to add. Feeling like an asshole that she had to ask. “When can we make this happen?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure. When are you free?” Her tone has grown playful.

“I’m on days this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, so we can do something one of those evenings.” I can’t believe a date with Hope is within my grasp. Now, to make it memorable for her.

“Leave it to me, and I’ll see when I can organize a babysitter for Evan. I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” she tells me, and I can practically hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

39

BEN

I gaveour date a lot of consideration. Wondering if I should reserve a table at a nice restaurant so we can enjoy a meal together, or if I should organize something fun and lighthearted? But when I remembered how much fun Hope had at mini golf, it was an easy decision—indoor archery atThe Golden Circle.

I figure it’ll be a relaxed evening without too much pressure, and hopefully we’ll have a few laughs along the way. Then we can grab a couple of pizzas and enjoy a picnic beneath the stars in the back of my truck. You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy.

As I pull up to a stop in front of the neat gray-and-white trim home, my heart races like I’m about to perform a search and rescue. Blowing out a nervous breath, I run my hand through my hair and climb out of my truck, then lean in to grab the flowers and gift bag from the passenger seat. I didn’t want to be cliché, but I was at a loss as to what to bring, and I wanted to bring something.

Striding up the walkway, I’m unsure what to expect, which sends my mind racing in a hundred different directions—along with contingency plans for each one. There’s no way of knowing if she’s had second thoughts, or if she’s feeling guilty about going on a date with me. I’m hopeful she’s as ready as she says she is, but I’m prepared to cut our time short if that’s what she needs. I certainly don’t want to pressure her; she puts enough pressure on herself.

The door opens suddenly as I breach the top step, and all the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. My heart beats frantically for a completely different reason as my eyes eat her up. She’s wearing tight, dark denim jeans, tan boots up to her knees, and a simple pink knitted top, but she’s so damn beautiful. When my gaze finally makes it up to her face, her clear, aquamarine gaze is studying me with uncertainty, and my heart sinks.

She’s having second thoughts.

Closing the distance between us, I trace her face carefully, looking for an answer. “You’re so beautiful, Hope,” I whisper on a breath, unable to contain the words and unwilling to let the disappointment of her change of heart stop me from sharing my thoughts with her.

Her shoulders drop as a puff of air leaves her lips. A smile lights her face, and the uncertainty I saw vanishes. “Thank you,” she murmurs, dropping her eyes away from mine.

Realization strikes that she was waiting for my approval, which she absolutely doesn’t need. She could wear a paper bag, and she’d still be the most beautiful woman to me. I lean in and press a kiss to her cheek, soaking in the smooth softness of her skin and her addictive vanilla scent. Moving my mouth closer to her ear, I murmur with a heated breath, “You’re perfect in every way, Cookie.”

A shiver races through her, and my mouth stretches into a smile. Good to know I affect her as much as she affects me.Stepping back a little, I hold out the flowers to her—light pink roses, mixed with baby’s breath, wrapped in white tissue paper. The gray-eyed woman atBlooms and Balloonssaid they’d be perfect for a first date, and if the smile on Hope’s face is any indication, the florist knew her stuff.

Hope brings them to her nose and dips her head closer to the arrangement, drawing in a deep breath. When she looks back up at me, gratitude fills her gaze. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She chuckles softly. “I’m not gonna say you shouldn’t have, because I’m so glad you did. I’ve never been given flowers before.” Her tone relays the disappointment she’s felt at not receiving such a simple gift, and I vow then and there that I’ll make sure she has fresh flowers regularly for the rest of her days. I hold up the gift bag, and her eyes widen. “Now, I’m gonna say you shouldn’t have.”

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