Restoring Hope (21 page)

After her careful examination of Hope and her attire, Kat launched into why she was on her doorstep, though Hope was not the least bit surprised by her explanation.

“I think you and I should get a few things straight,” was Kat’s opening line and hearing that, Hope moved into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She would need plenty of caffeine to deal with Nic’s ex this early.

“You want coffee while you explain what we need to get straight?”

“You’re just a replacement,” Kat blurted out and Hope stopped and looked over her shoulder at the woman.

“For?”

“Why me of course . . . Sugar, Nic and I may have a few silly problems but I’m his wife, and once he gets over his little snit he’ll come back to me. So, woman to woman, I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

“A few silly problems?” Hope choked out. “Last I heard he divorced you over those silly problems,” she reminded Kat.

“In the south we call that a technicality. The important thing for you to know is that I want us back together, Nicky wants us back together and when Nic is done having his fun with a pale comparison of the woman he loves, you’ll be forgotten like yesterday’s news.”

“And what makes you think I’m a pale comparison?” She knew the woman was trying to rattle her, lay the groundwork for doubts that Hope wasn’t woman enough for a man like Nic. She wasn’t doing a half-bad job of it except for one thing; she’d seen firsthand Nic was done with her. His trust broken Nic wouldn’t easily forgive, Hope was sure of that, and it was then she realized how her own situation might end with the same results.

“Why just look at you, sugar. Blonde hair, blue eyes, it’s like looking in the mirror. Though, your style of dress is, of course,” she sniffed in indignation at Hope’s attire and continued “Different.”

Switching the pot to on, Hope turned around and looked at Kat. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, but much taller than Hope’s own five foot two. She was sleek, polished, the type of woman a man like Nic would have as his wife. Then she thought about Kat out on a boat with Nic, trudging through the mud of the bayou, being chased by wild hogs or eating mystery meat sandwiches and couldn’t see her with Nic. The man she had married had changed over time, changed due to heartbreak and death, and the man who’d emerged had a sense of how delicate life was and seemed to have a need to live it fully while he was here. He might have a thing for blondes, but she doubted that hair and eye color were what kept him around. Nic had a need to protect people, but also feel loved above all others by his woman, and Hope had a need to be protected, cherished, while she gave her whole heart to someone. They complemented each other, giving each what the other needed, and that was the draw for both of them. They’d found each other at a time that both needed what the other had to give.

Pausing before answering, Hope looked one last time at Nic’s past and realized she had nothing to worry about from this woman. Nic was hers as long as she didn’t screw it up all on her own.

“I appreciate your stopping by and imparting your heartfelt concern for my well-being.”

“It sounds like a “but’’ is coming,” Kat snapped.

“The lady is not only beautiful, she’s smart,” Hope bit out, her own anger increasing at having been confronted by this woman. A woman, she might add, who’d had it all in the palm of her hands, and let it slip through her fingers because she was selfish.

Kat narrowed her eyes, the cordial, almost friendly woman she’d portrayed disappeared, and the true Kat made an appearance.

“You’re a common waitress with no breeding. Nic will have his fill, get his rocks off with you and then, sugar, he will return to the
true
love of his life. Enjoy what time you have with
my
husband, but when he dumps you for a superior model; don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that parting shot Kat marched to the door, her head held high as she opened it, walked through it, and slammed it behind her. Then she wobbled on her feet as she made her way to her car. She was sure she could rattle the bimbo’s cage, get her to back down, but if anything, Kat had watched her resolve strengthen as she explained to her that Nic would dump her. It may be eight in the morning, but Kat needed a drink, and her momma—Momma Monroe would know exactly how to handle this tart.

For the second time that morning, Hope’s doorbell rang. Only this time she was sure it wasn’t Kat. She had no doubt the woman would be back, but after a long shower and two cups of coffee in her system, Hope was smart enough to look through the peephole this time before opening the door.

Nic smiled as he entered; a bag from a local bakery in his hand and Hope crossed her fingers he’d brought her beignets again. She wasn’t disappointed.

“I come bearing pastries, angel. Tell me you have coffee, and we can run away together.”

“Tempting, but Rose would find us and then you’d have some explaining to do.”

“As scary as the old woman can be I’d take my chances,” Nic crooned as he lowered his mouth and kissed Hope for the first time that day. It had been ten hours since he’d touched her lips, and he decided it was about ten hours too long.

“You just want me for my coffee, admit it,” Hope whispered against his lips. He thought about that for a second; her coffee was infinitely more desirable than his, so he agreed.

“Sugar, you found me out. It’s not your body, your mind or your gumbo I want, it’s your coffee. Now, fill me up woman and make haste.”

“Ogre,” Hope laughed.

“Wench,” Nic answered back then swatted her ass as she made her way to her kitchen. Nic followed and pulled out a plate for the pastries as Hope filled two cups. When she made her way back to him, he grabbed her arm, pulled her to the couch, and made her sit. Turning to give her his full attention, he put his arm across the back of the couch and then took her hand in his, tangling her fingers with his own.

“Tell me about your childhood,” Nic asked, not waiting for the right time. He wanted to know more about her past, and was tired of waiting for her to tell him on her own.

Hope was caught off guard by his question, but relieved when he’d asked about her childhood instead of her husband. She knew he wanted more information, but she was afraid he would walk away if she told him the truth. He’d breathed life into her this past month and after thirty-eight years of just existing, ten of those living in fear, she was afraid of losing him.

“I was twelve when my parents died. My mother, father and brother were coming back from a ball game, and they ran a red light. A large truck struck them, and it flipped the car killing all of them. I had stayed the night at a friend’s house and wasn’t with them.” Nic’s face softened and he curled his hand around her neck squeezing it for support as she continued.

“I was able to stay at my same school, so I didn’t lose my friends when I went into foster care. The Johnson’s were older, already had four kids to take care of, but they made room for me, and I lived there for two years until they grew too old to care for us.”

“And after that?” Nic asked. Hope didn’t look at his eyes when she answered. She didn’t want to see his pity; it was what it was and she’d had twelve years with loving parents and then two more years with kind elderly people. She was luckier than most in foster care, and she knew it.

“I bounced around from home to home.”

“Because they couldn’t find a permanent home?”

“More or less,” Hope hedged hoping he’d accept that as her answer.

Nic could see her wall go up; there was something she didn’t want to talk about, but he needed her to trust him. He squeezed her neck again, and she looked at him as he whispered, “Tell me, sugar.” He watched her eyes close, and then she took a deep breath and nodded.

“Sometimes they were abusive, and I’d leave, go to a friend’s house and then social services would take me back. After I’d run enough times, they’d find a new place for me.”

“Abusive how?” Nic bit out, trying to control his reaction.

Hope looked away then took another deep breath and told him, “Fists sometimes, sexually, or they’d want a slave to do all their housework.”

“Christ,” Nic swore under his breath, and then pulled her into his arms. Hope laid her head on his chest as he ran his finger through her hair. She hadn’t thought about those times in a while, and in comparison to what the last ten years had been like, they were a walk-in-the-park.

“What happened when you turned eighteen?” Nic asked still holding on to Hope.

“I packed my bags, was given some money that the state had been holding for me from my parent’s estate and found an apartment, a roommate and never looked back.”

“And then you met your husband?” He felt Hope tense, but he held on. He wanted it out in the open, all of it. She couldn’t move forward until she told him everything, and he needed to know what that bastard had done.

“No, it was ten years before I met him.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“It doesn’t matter; it’s all in the past, and I’d rather not talk about it,” Hope told him as she pulled back from his embrace.

She watched Nic’s face growing angry at her refusal to talk about the past, but she couldn’t tell him, not yet. She stood from the couch to get some distance from him and to pull herself together. Moving to the window, trying to think of something to change the topic, Kat came to mind. She wasn’t going to tell him about her morning visitor, but if Kat could save her hide right now, she would take it.

“Hope, dammit, talk to me,” Nic told her back as he walked up behind her.

“Kat came for a visit this morning,” she blurted out as she turned to face him, and then watched his shock and then anger at what she’d said sink in.

“And you’re just now telling me this?”

“Yes, I just remembered to tell you,” she lied.

“Anything else you just remembered to tell me?” he bit out in frustration. Hope bit her lips to avoid answering the question and Nic saw the move, narrowed his eyes at her and then crossed his arms looking formidable. “You ever gonna let me in?” Nic asked when she didn’t answer, and he watched as her face paled.

“I’m trying,” Hope answered honestly and they stood there at an impasse, staring each other down. Nic gave in this time, but he wouldn’t the next—he wanted answers.

“You gonna share about Kat?” He tried to gentle his words, he could see she was trying, had revealed a lot already, so he’d give her more time to come to him before he backed her into a corner and demanded it. You can’t build a relationship on secrets or lies, and he wasn’t sure what she was keeping from him, but something told him it was a little bit of both. He needed her to trust him with her past so he could protect her from it. He didn’t want another situation like the one he had with Chelsea; he wasn’t going to lose one more person he cared about because of secrets.

“She wanted me to know that she wanted you back,” Hope finally replied and he watched her face and gauged her expression for the truth. He figured that was the gist of it, though he had no doubt that Kat had said more than she wanted Nic back.

“I don’t give a shit what she wants, it’s not gonna happen.”

“Even if Nicky wanted it?” Hope heard herself ask. That was the one point that Kat had brought up that caused her concern. He loved his son and would do anything for him, but would he tie himself to a woman he didn’t respect?

“He doesn’t, he knows what she did, but even if he did, I wouldn’t. There’s been too much water pass under that bridge, and the fact is, I don’t love her or trust her. All I see now when I look at her is a selfish woman who put her own needs above those of her family.”

Nic moved closer, leaned his forehead against Hope’s and whispered “Loving someone means you put them first and put yourself last. You trust them with your heart; you trust them with your life, and you fucking trust them to guard your heart with their life . . . Will you, Hope?” Nic asked and then leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips.

“Will I what?”

“Will you trust me with your heart?” he replied and then watched as her confusion lifted and tears filled her eyes.

Hope buried her head in his neck drinking in his strength and prayed to God that he’d feel the same way once John was arrested, and she told him the truth. Because she knew with every fiber of her being, it would kill her if he walked away.