Restoring Hope (11 page)

Chapter Eight

The sound of a bell ringing woke Hope. Opening her eyes to the morning light, she shut them immediately and groaned. She’d closed the night before and didn’t get to bed until after midnight, and from the angle of the sun, it couldn’t be more than eight in the morning. The bell sound came again, and she wrinkled her brow. It sounded like the doorbell. A moment of fear crawled up her throat as she slipped from the bed and moved to the window to look out front. Standing with a phone at his ear, Nic was waiting at the front door looking freshly showered; a light tan suit dressed his large frame. He must have noticed the movement at the window because he turned his head towards her and grinned, raising a hand in greeting. Half asleep still, she stumbled down the hall to the front door and unlocked it, pulled it open and looked up at Nic. His almost black eyes gave her a cursory once-over, and she realized all she had on was a large T-shirt. Stepping behind the door to cover herself, she saw Nic’s grin grow wider.

“Sorry to wake you, sugar, but Rose is on the phone and needs to speak to you.”

Not saying a word, she stuck out her hand for the phone, and Nic chuckled as he handed it over to her.

“Hello?” Hope finally spoke in the phone.

“No work today havin’ a partay’ at my house.”

“You’re closing the bar?”

“No, why you tink’ dat’?”

“You just said I didn’t have to work today.”

“Dat’ ‘cause you comin’ to my house for da’ partay.'”

“Rose I don’t think—”

“Abby and I gonna take you shoppin’ be ready at ten we gonna pick you up.”

“Rose, I don’t need to go shopping.”

“Pretty girl like you need sometin’ pretty to wear to my house, no arguments, we’ll be dere’ at ten.”

“But—”

“TEN!” Rose bit out, and then hung up the phone.

“Rose’s shindigs are legendary,” Nic broke in as Hope stood there wondering how she kept being roped into things.

“How does this keep happening to me?” Hope whispered, not really paying attention to Nic.

“She’s Rose,” Nic explained as if that was all that needed to be said.

“Hurricane Rose is more like it,” Hope mumbled.

“Now you’re getting’ it,” Nic grinned and Hope kinda lost herself in his smile. His olive skin set off his straight, white teeth, and the effect was bewitching. Clearing her throat to cover the fact she’d been staring, she looked at the clock on the wall and noticed it was eight-thirty.

“Shit, there gonna be here in an hour and a half.”

“Then you better hop to it. Rose hates to wait,” Nic laughed and winked at her as he started to turn. For some reason only known to God, she blurted out “Are you going tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, besides, I’m your ride.”

“What?”

“Rose informed me when she called that I was escorting you to this shindig.”

“She told you to escort me?”

“Yep.”

“Is she trying to set us up?” Nic grinned bigger his face sexier with his full smile.

“Absolutely,” he replied then gave a one-finger salute and turned to leave.

“It won’t work,” Hope blurted out and he turned back around, his lips twitching at her outburst.

“Nope,” he answered back as he kept walking backwards and then he winked again, turned on his heels and headed to his car.

Hope watched from the door as he got into his black Mercedes with the black leather interior she’d been in every night this week. They’d fallen into a routine since she moved in; he’d bring beignets on the mornings he worked at home, and they’d have coffee on the patio, surrounded by all the white irises in his garden. Then he’d stop by the bar for a nightcap before she got off work and drive her home. Only problem was, he’d done so much for her in the past couple of weeks, and spent so much time with her almost every day; she could feel her walls breaking down every time he smiled at her. It was obvious to her at this point if she let her guard down and Nic made an advance; she’d have a hard time holding him off and that was dangerous for Nic.

When John came looking for her, and she knew he would, she had to be ready to run. Not only would emotional entanglements make it hard to leave, she’d be putting all those she’d grown to care about in harm’s way. John was ruthless and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and what he wanted was Hope dead and anyone in his way would pay the price.

Looking around the condo, she thought about leaving now, instead of waiting. She didn’t have enough money to leave yet, and she knew it, but could she risk staying and becoming more attached? The more time she spent with Nic, be it in the car or his popping in with beignets, she could tell he was attracted to her, as well. If she could just keep her distance and had a little more time to save money, she could thank them all for their help, promise to keep in contact and then leave town before anyone got hurt.

The clock chimed nine breaking her from her thoughts, and she realized she’d been standing there thinking way too long and needed to make a decision. Pack now and leave, or stay a little while longer and risk losing her heart to the man. Thinking about spending the day shopping and then an evening with Nic, she hesitated about leaving. Just once, she’d like to forget about her past and look forward to something. Right or wrong, selfish or not, she wanted to be normal for just one day.
One more week, just one more week and then you’ll leave.

Hope stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her long, light blonde hair was down, flowing around her in soft curls. The aquamarine halter-top that Rose had insisted was perfect for a hot night in New Orleans seemed a bit too revealing. Her back was bare down to the dimples above her curvaceous butt, and the front was cut sharp, at an angle from the sides up to the collar around her neck. No cleavage at least, but when she turned back and looked at how low the back fell she felt naked. She had a new pair of jeans in a dark, indigo blue that hugged her curves like a second skin, and a new pair of wedge sandals in tan leather. Silver bangles on her wrists, large silver hoops at her ears and a new tan leather clutch that matched her shoes. She looked dressed to kill from head to toe, and the price for this look about killed her. Rose being Rose had insisted on paying, said it was her treat and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She’d been right when she called Rose a Hurricane; she blew in, took over, and left you speechless with her aftermath.

Taking a deep breath, she surveyed her face and worried if she’d gone overboard. She’d gone a little dramatic with her eye makeup. The smoky shadow brought out the blue of her eyes and light pink gloss finished off her face, she’d thought. But, she looked ready for a date, and that’s what concerned her. She was a little excited, well, more than a little, it had been a while since she’d looked forward to anything this much. A night out eating good food, listening to music and spending time with people she really liked seemed too good to be true, and as she stared at her reflection, she questioned her sanity.
What are you doing Hope?
Having one night of fun before she left the people she’d come to care about, whether she believed herself or not.

Looking at her watch she knew she was out of time, Nic would ring the bell any moment and then there’d be no turning back. She looked in the mirror one more time, and she liked what she saw, then told herself one night of fun wouldn’t hurt anyone. She’d keep Nic at arm’s length, and she could plan where she’d go tomorrow. Maybe up north, a cabin in the mountains, she could grow her own food and live off the land and never be heard from again. Chuckling and shaking her head at the thought of living like Grizzly Adams, she heard the doorbell ring, and she panicked for a second.
It’s just one night, relax!

When Hope opened the door, Nic stopped breathing. She’d gone from an angel to a seductress all in one day. Seeing her that morning with her hair wild, no makeup on and that huge T-shirt had sent his thoughts to a place they shouldn’t. In his bed. He’d spent the better part of the day trying to ignore how she’d looked. Seeing her now in those tight jeans, that sexy as hell top with her hair down; begging him to wrap his hand in it and tug her to his lips he knew he was losing ground. Taking a much-needed breath, he filled his lungs and then, as casually as he could, asked if she was ready to leave.

“You ready to go, sugar?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she smiled.

Hope exited the condo, turned and locked the door, and Nic moaned,
Mon Dieu
. The silky skin of her back, all of it, was calling him to run his tongue down her spine. He wanted to tell her to grab something to cover herself, ‘cause the thought of another man seeing her sexy back made his hands fist, but he didn’t.

Nic tightened his jaw to reign in his attraction and replied, “Then let’s go sugar.” Hope turned back to him and without any thought in the matter; he grabbed her hand and held it as he walked her to his car. He was surprised she didn’t’ pull her hand away from his, but he noticed a little spasm as their hands touched for the first time. Helping her into the car, he mumbled “Buckle it,” once she was settled, and then waited to see that she’d done it before closing the door and rounding the car. This was going to be a long fucking night he decided as he climbed in and started his car.

Rose’s house wasn’t far from the French Quarter; it had been in her family for years and just like her father before her, she’d raised her children there with her husband Roscoe. It was two-story, antebellum, plantation style home with a huge front porch that wrapped around on both sides. Whitewashed with black shutters, it reminded Hope of “Tara,” the famous house in the movie “Gone with the Wind.” She heard loud music coming from the backyard, and there were people hanging around shooting the breeze when Nic parked the car. He’d insisted she wait for him to come to her side and open the door, and after he had helped her out, and they started to move toward the house, she felt Nic’s hand on her back guiding her. A tingle shot up her spine at his touch, and she stiffened a bit. If Nic noticed he didn’t react to it, he just kept leading her to the side of the house. There were twinkle lights everywhere, in the trees, the shrubs and intertwined in the trellis of the homemade stage, where three men and two women were in full swing playing a soulful Cajun song called Evangeline. An older woman with long, dark brown hair dressed in jeans, dark T-shirt and boots, sang in a rich Cajun accent about a woman standing on the banks of the Mississippi looking for her lover who was a gambling man. The song, mournful and full of longing spoke about a man married to the life of a riverboat gambler on the Mississippi Queen.

Everyone was dressed casual, even Nic. He’d worn jeans and another black T-shirt with motorcycle boots that made the already sexy man, even more so. Even though she was in jeans, she felt over-dressed, and wondered why Rose had insisted she wear this to the party. When she felt Nic’s hand on her back, never leaving it, as if he was covering her skin, Hope finally got it and shook her head. Hurricane Rose had struck again she was sure of it.

Taking in the huge yard, she saw tables and chairs scattered around with candles in the center of each. A long table with food of every kind laid out at the side, with big wooden tubs filled with beer. Big Daddy was manning a huge pot with crawfish Hope had no doubt, and Rose was talking with a guest next to a man that made her look small.

“Is that Rose’s husband?” Hope leaned in and asked Nic. He turned to where she was pointing and saw Roscoe, all six foot five and two hundred and fifty pounds of him, standing next to Rosie. The man adored his wife, would kill anyone who did her harm, and at sixty-five, after years of working oil rigs, he hadn’t lost his edge.