The Son & His Hope (The Ribbon Duet 3) - Page 82

But then the nightmares started.

The living breathing torments of her coughing, her dying, her gone.

And it hurt.

So fucking much.

And I wasn’t strong enough.

For any of it.

So I’d plotted my way out of purgatory and shut down such needy desires. I locked away that compulsion for human connection and remembered that love became loss, weddings became funerals, families became dust.

That helped me yesterday when I finally got up the balls to tell her that I would be polite from now on. I would be helpful and gracious and do whatever it took to make her stay the best it could be.

But that was all I could offer her.

No more arguments.

No more kisses.

Just civil, meaningless interaction where neither of us got hurt.

Graham turned to his daughter. “And what do you want to be, Little Lace?”

She gulped, pretending cutting a piece of broccoli was way more involved than reality. “Um, not sure.”

I hated that I knew she had no other family. That it was just her and her dad. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts.

I was the loner yet I had a family that didn’t let me stay alone. Whereas she was the quintessential family lover with only one.

“She wants to work the land,” I murmured, unable to tear my eyes from Hope. “She’s good at it too. You should buy her a hobby farm and let her do whatever she wants with it.”

Graham stiffened. “She could buy her own. She has her own income.” Looking at his daughter with pride, he said, “You know, Steve has been asking when you’ll be back. He has a role in a crime show he thinks would be perfect for you. The lead.”

I couldn’t stop watching Hope, and I didn’t miss the way she tensed but grinned as bright as the stars. “That sounds great. Thanks.”

“Want me to tell him you’ll audition for it?”

“Um…” Hope placed the broccoli on her tongue, giving herself time to reply. After she’d chewed for far longer than necessary, she said quietly, “Can I, um, think about it? There’s still so much to do here, and…and I’d like to stay a bit longer, if that’s okay?”

Graham jerked as if he wasn’t expecting such a reply. But then he nodded sadly. “You don’t want to come home.”

Everyone stilled.

Hope stared at her plate. “It’s not that. I’m beyond grateful you came to see me. That you helped us last night. It’s amazing to see you, and I love you so much, but…eh—” Her gaze shot to my mother’s, begging her for help.

A strange kind of possessiveness clawed me. She looked at Mom for help. She’d accepted my desire to stay distant and didn’t expect me to fight her battles.

Goddammit, that hurt.

How did I stop it from hurting?

How did I turn off emotions when they were the worst thing in the world?

Mom cleared her throat. “It’s not that she doesn’t want to go home, Graham. She’s just too kind-hearted to leave in the middle of a busy summer.” Her attempt at damage control couldn’t hide the stares father and daughter gave each other. The admittance from Hope that she wasn’t into acting. And the disappointment from Graham for finally seeing what he’d ignored all along.

“Besides, Jacob hurt his back. He’s healing, but Hope has been invaluable. It’s fine if she stays with us,” Mom murmured. “For however long she wants.”

Graham looked up, smiling gently. “That’s very kind of you, Ribbon.”

Wait…what the—?

Gasps sounded around the table.

My hands fisted around my knife and fork.

Ribbon was my father’s nickname.

Ribbon was full of love and marriage and history.

Ribbon was a name no one else was allowed to use.

It was buried, just like he was.

What the hell was this jackass doing, using something that wasn’t his to use? That would never be his?

Mom shot me a worried glance. John reached over and planted his big paw over my shaking fist. Aunt Cassie hushed up Nina, and Chip took a swig of beer.

But it was Graham who stopped me from launching across the table and punching him.

“Sorry.” He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to use that. It came out. Habit from the movie, I’m afraid.” He bowed his head, true contrition in his gaze. “Sorry, Della. I know what that nickname means, and it wasn’t my intention to—”

“It’s fine.” Mom grinned, not doing a very good job at hiding the faint gleam of tears. “Been a long time since I’ve heard that. It’s…it’s just a shock, that’s all.”

Graham hunched. “My mistake. I won’t do it again.”

He was right because after this dinner—a dinner thanking everyone for their help hauling last night—Graham was going back to Hollywood, and I wished he’d take his daughter with him.

I wanted my farm back.

I wanted my life back.

I wanted an end to this pain.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Hope

* * * * * *

“LET ME CARRY that.”

I shook my head, walking away from Jacob with the heavy sack of horse feed in my arms. “Nuh-uh, I can manage.”

Tags: Pepper Winters The Ribbon Duet Romance
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