The Son & His Hope (The Ribbon Duet 3)

My hands curled, fighting away sick appreciation. For years, I hadn’t bothered mingling with anyone other than family. Back when I’d attended school, the girls showed off their newly formed bodies and flaunted their sexual preference. Their obvious flirting turned me off rather than on. They all seemed so desperate to impress, so eager for a connection that would end up destroying them.

Hope, meanwhile, was none of those things.

She was shy beneath strength. Quiet beneath conversation. And when she’d hugged me?

God, she’d shown me pain had multiple levels.

A hug from family could sear and sting.

But a hug from her?

It drew blood.

“It isn’t safe to wander around this late on your own.” My hands balled, my voice thickened, and I did my best to keep my eyes on her face because there was no way I could look at her body. No way I could permit myself to see the change in her, the growth, the knowledge that she might drive me to rage and disturb my carefully perfected world, but she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

Soft but sharp. Trusting but careful. Fragile but brave.

All the things that drew out the best and worst in me. I wanted to be kind, so she was happy. I wanted to be cruel, so she’d leave.

I didn’t have the strength to fight both instincts or convince myself I was content with being alone. My phobia of getting close to anyone ordered me to back up and point at Mom’s house. “Go back, Hope.”

She bit her lower lip, looking at where I pointed before capturing my stare again.

I didn’t stand a chance with the way she studied me. The same way she’d watched me as a child with a certainty and calmness that made me fidget and bristle. Only now, a deeper element was there too. A terrifying welcome. A petrifying invitation that had nothing to do with the years we’d danced around each other and everything to do with this new torturous existence.

“I don’t want to go back yet.” Her voice whispered through the grass, sounding part breeze, part shadow.

“What do you want?” My jaw clenched.

What the hell sort of question is that, and why did I ask it?

She cocked her head, hair tumbling, eyes searching. “To walk.” Taking a hesitant step toward me, she smiled softly. “Want to walk with me?”

“What I want is for you to get off my property.”

Her smile warmed instead of cooled. “Can I walk on it first? Then I’ll get off it.”

I couldn’t understand her. Was she joking with me? Teasing? Being plain exasperating? Crossing my arms, I raised my chin. “Walking it would take hours. It’s big.”

A snicker fell under her breath. “Big, huh?”

I froze. Did the girl who’d screamed riding my horse just make a sexual innuendo? Then again, nothing was child-like about her anymore. Her youth had transformed into an elegance I didn’t like.

I wanted to shut her up, to send her away, and forget about this odd encounter. Instead, I found myself dragged into the strangeness. “Oh, it’s big. Bigger than you’ve seen.”

Her cheeks pinked. Her gaze dropped to my mouth. “I like big.”

The heavy air electrified with something I didn’t like. Something that made my heart race and body tingle against my will.

I didn’t appreciate her answer. How did she know she liked big? What exactly were we discussing here? The size of my cock or my farm? I wasn’t adept at playing these games. I didn’t want to play these games. I wanted her gone.

“Look—”

“I get it.” Hope interrupted me, her voice losing its horrifying invitation and returning to simple acquaintance. “It’s late, and you want to go back to bed. Don’t mind me.” Her lips twitched, unable to help herself. “Besides, if your farm is so big, surely you won’t care if I walk a small piece of it? You won’t even notice the areas I’ve explored.”

“I can’t leave knowing you’re out here on your own.”

“Why? Think I’m going to get abducted?”

“No.” My hands curled into fists. “No one would dare trespass. I’m worried you’ll trip and break your leg, and no one will be around to save you.”

“So you’re worried about me?”

I scowled. “I didn’t say that.”

“You said you’re worried I’d trip and break a leg.”

“Exactly.” I nodded. “You’re not to be trusted.”

“I have walked before, you know.”

“Yeah, on red carpets.”

She stepped toward me purposely, planting bare feet into thick grass. “Wrong, I’ve walked on Scottish moors well past midnight after an ex dumped me. I’ve gotten lost in a thunderstorm after a picnic went wrong. I’ve—”

“Someone dumped you?” Once again, anger bubbled at something I shouldn’t care about. She was dating already? She was only seventeen, for God’s sake.

Her eyes flashed. “To be fair, I wanted to be dumped.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to give him my virginity.” Her voice was level and honest, not in the least bit self-conscious discussing this sort of thing with me.