“Anything I should know about?”
“Nah, man. Everything you need to know should come from her. When she trusts you, she’ll spill.” We shake hands, and I watch as he and his friend walk away with a wave to Hope before I head back inside.
“So, what were you going to ask Luca to do?” I grin when I see she’s finished her tea and muffin. Providing for her, even in a small way, is one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever done.
Hope
I thought, for a minute, Luca was going to kick Reed out. I’m not sure how to be around so many alpha males, and I think Reed usurps them all.
Staring at Reed as I ponder how to answer his question, I’m quickly lost in his rakish looks. His hair is a mocha brown and just long enough to run my fingers through. His eyes match, appearing like melted chocolate and filled with compassion and excitement. His full lips are perpetually quirked in a sexy smile with just the hint of a dimple showing in his chin.
He’s tall, too; well over six feet and overshadows my short, five-foot three-inch frame. The way he’s watching me now has butterflies exploding in my belly that are much different than the little peanut I’m carrying.
“Hope?” I love how he says my name with a little possessive growl, like he owns it. Or maybe me? “Earth to Hope.” His husky chuckle as he waves a hand in front of my face has me shaking my head.
“Sorry. Daydreaming, I guess.” Swallowing, I try to stall and think of a response. I don’t want to lie to him, but I can’t tell him the truth either. “I was going to go shopping for a new bookshelf, and I needed Luca’s help to carry it to the car and into the house.” My chin tries to wobble from the lie, but I force a smile in its place.
“I’ll do it. We can get dinner too.” Reed doesn’t give me a chance to agree or protest before gripping my much smaller hand in his overly large one and pulling me along behind him to the door. “We’ll take my truck in case it’s too big for your SUV.”
Snatching my purse and house keys off the pedestal table by the front door, I get the locks turned, and we’re in his truck in minutes, heading to the furniture store.
I was supposed to be shopping for the baby’s bedroom set. Crib, dresser, rocking chair, change table, now, I’m getting a bookshelf that I doubt I’ll ever use.
“Where do you want to eat?”
“Anywhere is fine.” I feel sick about lying to him. I’m not sure I’ll eat much anyway.
“St. John's Town Center okay with you? It’s got food and shopping.” I nod as he drives. I’m not much for small talk, but Reed seems to enjoy it. “Are you from Jacksonville?”
I shake my head as I answer. “Daytona Beach.”
“I’m originally from Queens. My parents are still there. We’re a very Greek family. My brother Theo is up in West Virginia. Works for some special ops team or something. I’m sure whichever of us settles down first, our parents will be moving close by.” Watching as he speaks, the smile on his lips, his relaxed nature, I can see he loves his family very much.
“Luca moved here a few years ago to start his own company. I only recently followed.” My morose tone gives away my sadness, and Reed reaches over to where I’m sitting and squeezes my thigh.
“What do you do for work?” I freeze, not anticipating that question.
“Uhm, I just graduated from college. I was an art history major.” I’ve always been fascinated with sculptures. Never good enough to create my own, I’ve always wanted to be the curator of an art gallery. My plans are on hold now.
“What is an art history major, exactly?” When he asks, I have trouble discerning his tone between sarcasm and curiosity.
“It’s boring, really.” I choose to give the bare facts. “I studied and analyzed works of art, learning the history of the pieces as well as the criteria for what makes one unique or a rip-off.”
“Do you create your own pieces of art?” The road sign for the mall is close, and I’m watching him like a hawk, trying to understand his line of questioning.
“No, I was never incredibly talented or coordinated enough to create anything worth saving. I’d like to curate for a gallery or a museum one day, though.”
“I doubt you weren’t good enough. You just didn’t have the proper encouragement. We’ll work on that.” The way he says that makes me believe he envisions some sort of future for us. Placing a hand on my belly as he backs into a parking space, I know there can’t be.
Reed is all about family. Why would he want the baby of a single mother who doesn’t even share their DNA?
I’m going to get hurt.
Pushing the negative thought to the back of my mind, I decide to enjoy this one evening with Reed. The way he smiles, how he always puts me first. When he opens the truck door and helps me down, I fall into his chest, and if it weren’t for the baby doing a flip, I think he would have kissed me. But I pulled away too quickly.
“Burgers?” I blurt out instead.
“MShack?” I nod in response. They have the thickest shakes.
Sitting down to eat, I see the way people stare at Reed, with lust and interest in their eyes. But I don’t believe he notices. Anytime I sneak a look towards him, his eyes are always on me.
The hairs on my arms stand up when he speaks, and when he touches me, sliding a finger down my arm, caressing my cheek, I could get lost in the feelings he’s beginning to evoke in me.
Because of my disorder, dating has never piqued my interest. I've had no idea how to approach a man, let alone read how he feels about me, but Reed makes me want to.
In a lot of ways, I wish some things could be different, but I wouldn’t change my situation for the world. Not for anyone.
I just hope he can forgive me when he finds out the truth.
3
Reed
Every cop I know savors the uneventful days on the job. We relish in them because it means we’re doing our jobs, and the citizens are safe. The downside is that it also means a twelve-hour tour feels like twenty-four.
I’m halfway through my day of working on a ton of paperwork I need to catch up on, and all I can think about is Hope. The way she smiles, laughs, even when she’s not sure when to laugh. It wasn’t until after we’d eaten and been in two stores that she relaxed around me last night.
We talked about nothing overly important but enough for me to get an understanding of who she is. She loves comedy movies, drama TV shows, and romance books. She’d like to travel to Iceland one day to see the northern lights. After watching a documentary about it, she became fascinated. Other than that, Hope is a simple girl just looking to live a quiet life.
We didn’t talk much about our romantic lives because it seemed to make her uncomfortable when I asked her about family and the future. But I get the feeling she hasn’t dated too much, and I think that can be attributed to her shyness. I also made it clear to her that I was single and interested. Her ruddy blush afterwards was endearing.
When we returned home, she was too tired to stay up for me to put the shelf together, so I promised to do it tonight and managed to snag her cell number. That alone felt like a victory. I sent her a message a few minutes ago to ask how she’s feeling, and the wait for an answer is killing me.