Eight Long Years (Heart of Hope 5)

Fate was totally fucking with me. Bismarck wasn’t so small that I should be running into April like this. Not when I finally decided it was time to let her go once and for all. Seriously, if we were meant to be, she wouldn’t have dumped my ass eight years ago. Or, when we saw each other again at the restaurant, it would have been like a scene from a romantic movie in which we confessed our love and lived happily ever after.

Instead, April acted indifferent to me at best, annoyed at the worst, which made no sense since she was the one who broke things off with me. Either way, I doubted she was having sexy dreams about me and wondering if maybe we could try again. Nope, that was my dumbass heart.

But didn’t I just decide that my heart was holding on to something that had died years ago? Yes, I did. So why was fate putting this beautiful woman in my path again? I was here to move forward with my future and put my past behind me. How could I do that with April here?

The minute I walked into the leasing office, the air changed in that way it always had when April was around. This time, because I was committed to forging ahead with my life, I wasn’t going to acknowledge it. I put on my war face and tried to pretend she was just another person looking to rent an apartment. Of course, that was easier said than done because her scent was intoxicating. She wore her hair down, and it hung in long luscious waves that my hands itched to touch. Just in case they had minds of their own, I shoved them into my pockets and focused on the leasing lady.

The leasing lady’s gaze inventoried my body and she made a few comments about working out and saunas that I knew were code for “I want to fuck you.” I wondered what April thought about that? Did she care that another woman was openly apprising me and liking what she saw? The woman was attractive and there was a time I might have taken her up on her implied offer. Before April, I’d dated a few girls that I’d fucked. I liked them, but it wasn’t until April that I understood what it meant to be in love. Or at least I thought I did. Perhaps I was just young and naïve. After April, I tried to move on, dating occasionally, but not really feeling a connection to them like I had with April. Eventually, I gave up looking for love. Except for an occasional hookup, my sex life consisted mostly of my hand in the shower. Although April and I were clearly done, it didn’t feel right to consider a hookup with the leasing lady, especially since the only woman my dick wanted to be inside was April. Again, fate was being such a jerk to me.

Pushing away thoughts of sex, I walked with April and the leasing woman down to an end unit. The leasing woman chatted away although I wasn’t sure what the hell she was saying because April’s scent wafted behind her, making me drunk with longing.

“Here is the two-bedroom unit,” the woman said, opening the door.

I wondered why April needed two bedrooms. Were she and August having financial troubles and moving? Did she have a significant other and needed extra space? I had to bite back a growl at that idea. Maybe she was going to have a roommate. I wondered if she was still friends with Petal.

“As you can see, its layout makes it quite spacious,” the woman said, turning on the light.

She was right. The entry walked into a hall. To the left was a galley kitchen and dining area at the far end of it. The hall opened into a decent sized living area, with French doors to a large patio that looked out over a grassy area.

The leasing agent’s phone beeped. “Excuse me, I need to check this. You two can look over the place and then I’ll show you the one-bedroom,” she said, motioning that she was going to stand outside.

I followed April up the hall, passing a fair amount of storage in a wall of closets. Across from them were the doors to two bedrooms. I waited outside one as April walked in, looked around and came back out. She went to the next room, which from the doorway looked larger and was likely the master. At the end of the hall was a guest back.

“Why do you need two bedrooms?” I asked, unable to stop myself. I was practically crossing my fingers hoping she didn’t have a boyfriend or fiancé or fuck…a husband.

A slight tinge of pink came to her cheeks. Immediately, I was back eight years ago and loving how her cheeks blushed when I expressed my lust for her.

“I need a home office,” she said, turning away from me and checking the bathtub in the guest bath. “I’m making a career change.”

“Oh? How’s that?” I leaned a shoulder against the wall, with my hands still safely in my pockets.

“I just quit my job and am trying to determine my next move.”

Like the universe was talking to me, I immediately thought of Mr. Lassen’s comment about having someone up front at the office.

“What do you do? As a profession?” I asked.

“My degree is in business administration and accounting—”

“Accounting? Like August.” Jesus, did she follow in his footsteps? How depressing. Not that accounting was a bad thing, but it wasn’t what April had planned to do. At least I didn’t think so. One of the things I’d loved about her was how open she was to life. She was curious about everything. She couldn’t ever answer the question about what she wanted to major in in college because she didn’t know.

“I want to take a class in every subject and see what speaks to me,” she’d say.

I remembered one time after we’d made love, we lay naked in bed and went through her college catalog where she told me about all the classes she wanted to take. Italian. Folklore. Women’s Studies. Criminology. Child Development. Dance. I’d suggested human sexuality, but she informed me she was taking that now, and then she blew my brains out with a blow job.

What I didn’t remember was her expressing any interest in business or accounting.

She nodded. “I wanted to study something practical. That I knew I could use to support myself.”

I frowned as I got the feeling that her answer was practiced. I wondered if August had forced her into giving up her desire to study as many different things as she could, and instead get a practical degree. It sounded like something he’d do. August had always been one for order and pragmatism. He’d taken it to the nth degree when he told me that I wasn’t good enough for April. From a practical standpoint, he was probably right. I didn’t have a career that was always steady or paid well. Construction was often at the whim of weather and the economy. But I loved her with everything I had. I couldn’t imagine anyone loving her as much as I did. Hell, I left her to improve my financial prospects simply so I’d have something to offer her.

I shook my head of thoughts of the past and focused on her. “Do you work at your dad’s firm?”

“I did. I quit.” There was a determination and fire in her eyes at that statement. It couldn’t have been easy to walk away from he

r father’s firm. From August. I wondered what had happened to make her want to leave.

I also wondered how desperate she was for a job. Would she take one from me?