Hold on to Hope

“I didn’t—”

Her barking laugh cut me off. “You did. You thought you needed to carry more of his burden, protect him, and he did the same for you by removing himself from the picture. Look where that got both of you.”

My pants pocket continued to go off like the Fourth of July. A new message came in every few seconds.

She angled her head. “So, talk to him. Let him know where you stand. And I’m asking you as a friend and someone who cares about you both . . . no more secrets, Frankie Leigh.”

She grabbed a big jug of creamer, not looking back when she left me alone in the kitchen.

Wow.

Okay then.

Sighing, I pulled out my phone to read the string of waiting messages.

Evan: I can think of all kinds of places for us to go, Frankie.

Evan: My bed.

Evan: The kitchen.

Evan: The shower.

Oh, it was a fine time for desire to spark right in the middle of the morning rush. Memories of his mouth and those hands and that body.

Evan: The park with my son.

Evan: Dinner.

Evan: Go to dinner with me, Frankie. A date. You and me. Let’s start again. Figure this out together.

Evan: I’m finished living my life without you in it.

Another had come in behind it. It was a selfie. Evan and Everett with their faces smooshed together, the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Green eyes matching, sweetness gushing out from the lens.

Evan: Someone has been asking for his Fi-Fi.

Evan: And you’re right. He is a miracle. Just like you.

My chest squeezed so damned tight I was wondering if I’d up and developed myself a severe case of asthma.

Because feeling like this shouldn’t be right, and I was a little worried that it wasn’t healthy.

Falling so hard and so fast.

One thing for certain, Evan Bryant was not fighting fair.

I hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. I let my fingers tap out the message.

Me: Dinner would be nice. I think it’s a great idea to get to know each other again. Talk. Take some time to reconnect.

He’d know it was code for I thought we should maybe put on the brakes. He’d know he’d completely knocked me for a loop. That I was terrified I was going to get sucked right back into his vortex. Problem was, the whole other side of me was thinking I wouldn’t mind that one bit considering all that talk about his bed and the shower and the kitchen sounded really damn nice.

Me: And if you’re having fantasies about a kitchen counter, I think you’re gonna need to figure out some other living arrangements because I’m pretty sure your mama and daddy wouldn’t be all that keen to finding us buck naked on the island in the middle of the night, and I’m afraid Carly might like it too much.

Maybe I was askin’ for it, but I couldn’t help myself. Bantering with Evan had always been about as easy as it’d come. Teasing each other. Laughing constantly. Making each other blush. It was pretty much our favorite game until those blushes had grown into flames.

Evan: I think that can be arranged.

I bit at my lip like it was goin’ to stop my grin while I typed away.

Me: Getting your own place or dinner?

His response was instant.

Evan: Carly watching.

I busted out laughing.

Me: Um . . . not in your dreams, big boy.

Evan: You’re my only dream, Frankie Leigh.

Damn him.

I was giggling like I used to, having the urge to do a couple twirls and a skip and a jump or two.

The door swung open, and I shrieked in surprise, so wrapped up in the two of us. Which basically was the way it’d always been. Evan and I living out those fantasies.

Innocently.

Maybe even naively.

But that was okay.

We’d deserved those years.

“Aunt Hope.” I fumbled to get my phone back into my pocket. I pinned on a bright smile, rocking back on my heels and huffing a piece of hair out of my face.

She waved a flippant hand in the air. “Oh, don’t even try to play coy, Frankie Leigh. You think I don’t know who you’re talking to? You should see your face. And believe me, it looks way happier right now than it did when you were sneaking out Evan’s window at the crack of dawn this morning.”

She cocked a brow.

A gasp of guilt and shock and oh shit blundered out of my mouth.

“Wha . . . I . . . I just . . .”

Well, that wasn’t helpin’ things.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, Sweet Pea. You think I don’t know you’ve been in love with my son for his whole life? Same as he has been with you? You think it was some kind of secret? Because I promise you, it was not.”

Unease shivered.

“You knew?”

I guessed the question was, how much? What did Uncle Kale tell her? Because I’d wanted to spare her that grief, too.