Page 42 of Embracing Hope

“You don’t know where it is,” she said matter of factly.

“I’m good at finding my way; I’ll find it.” He sauntered off to take care of the safety and security of the house.

Upstairs, she dressed in pajamas. She usually slept naked, but because she’d have company tonight, she chose her thickest flannels. It was almost comical knowing that she and Isaac had already explored each other’s bodies.

Crawling into her bed, she picked up her phone and skimmed a message from Jean.

“Did you make it home safely? Jean.”

Hope replied,“Sorry. I just saw your message. I’m home. Hope.”Leaving out the part about the intruder.

Then she silenced the notifications and placed the phone on the charger.

She sunk under the covers, and her mind wandered to the intruder. Obviously, she wondered who he was, but she also was curious about what he was searching for in Daddy’s office. Knowing that someone had invaded her home made goosebumps scatter across her skin. What if it had been Liberty that walked in on the intruder? Her baby’s safety could have been at risk.

Hope felt sickened by the thought.

Although she didn’t consider taking care of herself impossible, she was grateful that Isaac wanted to stay with her. She doubted the intruder would be brave enough to return, but so many unusual things had occurred with the family in the last year.

Tonight she would be sleeping with Isaac. She couldn’t say that she was mad, even though she would have liked it to be under better circumstances.

Would he have nightmares? Would he even fall asleep?

She would be finding out soon because she heard the thuds of his boots on the polished floor outside of her bedroom. He appeared in the doorway, looking tall and broad, almost warrior-like. “I checked the perimeter again. Nothing there that doesn’t belong,” he growled.

“Welcome to my bedroom.” Once the words were out, she wanted to reel them back in. Why was she so nervous? They were adults, and he was only staying all night because he liked to play the alpha male.

He sat on the bed, and although it was a firm mattress, his weight made her lean closer to him. He toed off his boots and stretched out, rubbing the lines out of his forehead. He looked tired and indecisive.

“So? What happened to your hand?” she asked once he was settled with his back against the headboard.

“First things first. More importantly, any idea who it was that broke in?” he asked.

She gave a slight shrug of her shoulder. “No clue. It came in a blur. He left in a flash.”

“You keep referring to the intruder as a “he”. Are you sure?”

“I’m not completely positive but the person stood at least a foot taller than me.”

He gazed at her, worry forming lines between his brows. “Perhaps you’ll recall something if you rest.” He lowered himself onto the mattress and shut his eyes.

“Hold on there, cowboy. What happened to your hand? I can spot raw knuckles from a fight. You don’t have any other injuries, so it seems your opponent didn’t struggle much.”

He flicked his eyes open and rubbed his forehead. “I might have punched one of the hands.”

She raised her brows. “Might have or did?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Impatience.”

“Why?”

“He made a poor choice.” He frowned.

“Please clarify.”

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