“Oh, I don’t know, because you don’t want to be a creepy old man who lives in the middle of nowhere and has to run off silly high school kids with his shotgun because they tell ghost stories about him?”
He looked at her, half sure that she was the one who’d lost her damn mind.
“That’s not a thing.”
“It is most definitely a thing.” She leaned back on her hands and stared at the sky. The move arched her back and pressed her breasts against the fancy tank top she wore. It was made of some kind of drapey fabric that looked soft and shiny, and it highlighted the fact that he seriously doubted she was wearing a bra. “You’re too young to just give up.”
“It’s not about giving up.” Though he didn’t expect Hope to understand that. He’d checked up on her a few times since the accident, and every single time he was amazed at the things she’d accomplished. Life had kicked her in the teeth and she’d come back swinging. She’d taken two years off and then attended the University of Texas and graduated with honors. She ran her own successful consulting business to work with companies that wanted to set up scholarships and nonprofits.
She shifted to look at him. “It looks like giving up from where I’m sitting.” She continued before he could respond, not that he knew what the fuck he was supposed to say to that. “Are you happy?”
What the hell kind of question was that? “I’m getting by.”
“That pretty much answers that.” She gave him a bittersweet smile. “I should have come back before now to check on you—or at least knock some sense into you, since apparently you need some tough love.”
Check on him like he was her responsibility, when the truth was he was the one to blame for everything bad that had happened to her. “You worry about your own life and leave me to worry about mine.”
“Because you’re doing such a stand-up job of living it?”
He glared. “What in the fuck is that supposed to mean? It’s great that you’re happy—better than great. You deserve that and more. How I go about my business isn’t any of yours.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” She sighed, the sound so small that he wanted to wrap his arms around her. It was more than the sigh, though. They’d dated for two years back in high school, been each other’s firsts across the board. Apparently even after all this time, his body still remembered the feel of hers and craved it like crazy. He just hadn’t been aware of it until she was sitting here next to him.
That’s a goddamn lie.
The truth was he’d never stopped craving her in his arms and in his bed. He’d just stopped deserving her around the time John took his last breath. A person didn’t come back from something like that, and no matter how well Hope had done with her life, that didn’t change the fact that he’d taken things from her that were downright unforgivable.
Needing to get them onto solid ground—though he doubted that was a possibility at all—he said, “What’s brought you back to town?”
“Work. Sort of.” She pulled at the hem of her skirt, lifting the fabric enough for him to catch a glint of scar tissue on her calf. She hadn’t done it on purpose—that he was sure of—but the reminder still struck him cold to the core. Oblivious, Hope continued. “Mom and Dad have been talking about doing a scholarship for John for years. They got in contact with the mayor and the principal of the high school and the city council and basically whoever would listen, and they’ve got a fund set up. So I’m here to get the details ironed out and officially announce it.”
It made sense that she’d come back here for John. If he’d had a chance to stop and think since she showed up, he would have come to that conclusion on his own. Daniel quietly smothered the little voice inside him insisting that she’d really come back here for him. She hadn’t. End of story. Allowing himself the fantasy would only make the truth hurt more.
And the truth was that any possibility of a future between him and Hope Moore was as dead as her brother.
Chapter Three
Hope should have known Jules had an ulterior motive for inviting her to dinner. As soon as she’d seen the cars in front of the house, she’d realized something more was going on, and she’d refused to get out of the truck until the other woman spilled. So she’d been able to brace for the knowledge that she’d see Daniel—as much as anyone could brace for seeing the man she once considered the love of her life.
Judging from the tension lining his shoulders, he hadn’t had the slightest clue that his cousin had been meddling. In fact, everything about Daniel seemed to be tense these days. There were new lines around his mouth—deep brackets that she doubted came from smiling—and it was obvious that he spent significant time in the sun from how dark his normally tanned skin was.
It didn’t detract from his looks, though.
Instead, it was almost like he’d been honed down and purged in a fire, coming out a leaner, meaner version of himself. Considering what she’d picked up from Jules, that was probably more accurate than anything else she could have compared it to. His thick black hair was longer than it had been, almost shaggy, and his dark eyes were downright haunted.
Hope bit her lip, wondering what she was supposed to do to help. He obviously wasn’t happy to see her, and a part of her couldn’t help feeling a little disappointment.
That’s not why she’d come back. He wasn’t why she’d come back, though she’d be a liar if she said the thought of running into her old flame hadn’t crossed her mind. But that’s exactly what Daniel was to her—what he had to be. Ancient history.
They’d had a chance to live the American dream that they’d always imagined, but instead of walking away from that car crash stronger, they’d been broken completely. Even if she wanted to magically bounce back from that, it was too late.
Maybe if he’d returned her calls after he came to visit her in the hospital…
But the time for maybes was long gone.
She was here to finally do what she’d promised her parents and set up John’s trust. As much as she’d wanted to avoid coming back into town, avoid driving down Interstate 10 again and seeing the spot where their car went off the road, it was time.
Not a moment too soon, if the intervention Jules had mentioned breezily was something the Rodriguez family was actually planning. She didn’t know if Daniel was really that badly off or if his parents and aunts and uncles and cousins had gotten together and riled themselves up into making it a thing.
She had to do something, she just didn’t know what. She couldn’t leave town again without at least trying to help him work through things—and getting his family off his back. She promised herself that right then and there.
“Whatever you’re thinking, knock that shit off right now, darling.”
The sound of his old nickname for her settling in the air between them temporarily shocked her into saying something she never would have otherwise. “I do what I want.”
He turned to face her fully, brows lowered. It should have looked ridiculous with that tiny puppy bounding around him, into his lap and back out again, but something inside her quivered as a result of being pinned down by that expression. She couldn’t quite tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing, though. Daniel leaned in, so close she wasn’t sure of the heat she felt was coming from his body or the summer night around them. “That line never worked on me.”
“It never worked on anyone.” For one eternal second they were back there, in the world before.
Then he shook his head like he was waking from a dream. “I’m glad you’re setting this thing up for John. It’s football based?”
“Yeah.” Her brother had gotten a full ride to the University of Texas when he graduated high school, and he’d been in his junior year of college, back home for the holidays, when the wreck took his life. So much potential, snuffed out in the space of a minute. The familiar ache settled in her chest, but it wasn’t as strong or present as it had been this afternoon.
When she’d woken up in that hospital bed and realized her brother hadn’t survived, she’d vowed to herself that she’d do whatever it took to make sure the gap created by John’s death was filled. It’d been an irrational promise, but she’d stuck with it. Every time physical therapy brought her to the brink of despair, she fought it off because John never would
have given up. And then she’d finished college with honors because that’s what John had been on his way to doing.
She had no interest in being a lawyer—and she wasn’t particularly good at arguing her point when strong emotions were involved—so she’d gone into the private sector, helping people and companies with too much money on their hands set up foundations and scholarships to help people who could actually use that money. Most of them were doing it for the tax write-off, but their motivation didn’t matter—what they were doing did.
But those foundations and scholarships weren’t personal. This one was. This felt like the final accumulation of what she’d been working toward—giving other kids from Devil’s Falls a chance to follow the same path John had been on—to succeed where his life was cut short. “Football based, and they have to have the same kind of grades he did. There are other factors, too, but ultimately it’ll be up to the discretion of the town council.”
He gave a short nod. “It’s good that you’re doing this.”
Funny, but he didn’t sound particularly happy about it. Then again, he hadn’t sounded happy from the moment she’d walked through that door. She took a deep breath. It was time to talk about that forbidden subject, the one that lay like a pulsing wound between them. Maybe getting it all out in the open would help him. “Danny—”
He pushed to his feet. “As fun as this has been, I’ve got to go.”
“Go? You just got here.” She struggled to her feet as he scooped up Ollie and started around the back of the house. Hope cursed under her breath, muttering about insane men, and hurried after him. The ground was too uneven to actually catch up with him, but she rounded the corner almost on his heels. Which was right about the time that her ankle wobbled, twisting her weak knee and sending her sprawling.