Love & Hope - Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

 
Rachel sidestepped her date with graceful ease, avoiding his wandering hands. She didn’t want to let him get too close; he was on his fifth beer, and that was just the ones she’d seen. He was unsteady on his feet, and his surface shine had certainly vanished in the two hours they’d been at the party.

She pushed him, almost playfully, like she didn’t really mean it. No point in causing a scene and having her brother and cousins descend on her, to defend and berate at the same time. She could deal with this. Eric DeLaney just needed air, and probably six black coffees.

“I want a kiss, sexy,” he said and pulled her in for a down and dirty kiss right in front of her parents.

“Let’s get some air,” she said with a smile, breaking the embrace and ignoring the frown on her dad’s face. At least her dad disapproved quietly, unlike her brother who had spent five minutes with her trapped between him and the celebration cake, telling her Eric DeLaney was a complete asshole.

Which, let’s face it, he was. Eric was way too eager to get out of the party and paw her, but anything was better than her dealing with it in front of everyone; kicking him in the balls and taking him down.

“Just a kiss.” His voice was tending toward the whiny side and not for the first time tonight; Rachel considered why the hell she’d brought Eric as her date. He was a no-hope loser from Stanford Four Corners, visiting a cousin or some such story, and she’d decided he would be an easy to pass off date. They’d been at school together, him a few years above her, captain of the football team, limited academic achievement, blah blah blah.

But he’d asked her out, and she’d said there was a party, and he’d jumped at the idea of a free bar.

And maybe, this time, she’d end up kissing someone that didn’t make her sick to her stomach. A small part of her where hope lived was the thought that Eric wasn’t a dick to the core, and that he was just misunderstood.

She was wrong.

He was the very definition of hot, tall, built, and with an impressive line in tips on which boring team would win which dull tournament. But there was nothing between his ears, other than sports stats, and there was certainly not a single spark between them.

Which was exactly how she liked it. She only dated to look normal to friends and family. Normal was something critical to her, in her normal life, and her regular town.

So, she’d give him one kiss, and send him on his way with a pat on the back and a see you later, big guy. Getting serious with Eric—or any man, come to think of it—was not on the cards. The sound of a baby crying filtered through the cooling night air and Eric glanced in the direction of the noise, allowing her to get past him.

“No, Eric.” She caught her stupidly high heels on a paving stone, and it slowed her down enough so that Eric held her arm. With remarkable agility which belied his size, he got in front of her and pasted what he probably thought was a cute expression on his face.

“One. Just one.”

Rachel sighed. Eric was not going to stop. She opened her mouth to discuss rationally why she wasn’t kissing him, but the words left her in a huff as Eric gripped her upper arms. He shuffled her back into the darkness against the fence and pressed her there, and she was squashed between the wall and the heavyset man.

“Eric, stop,” Rachel said, a lot louder. He grinned down at her like this was a big game to him.

“C’mon, baby, one kiss.”

“Eric!” Rachel attempted to shove him, but she couldn’t get purchase in her heels and toed them off as best she could.

“No one can see us,” Eric muttered. “So fucking hot, I want you out of that dress.”

A dozen scenarios went through her mind, all the Krav Maga techniques she’d learned to take care of herself. The quick sharp movements that kept her life under control. The first step of which was stopping action before escalation. She’d failed that part; thinking she’d had control over the laughing drunk guy who just wanted to dance. Until, that is, she wanted fresh air, and he seemed to think what she was really asking for was sex in the gardens. That left talking and getting him to move back just enough so she could get purchase.

“C’mon, sweetie, not here,” Rachel said, in her best girly tone.

He didn’t move, just nuzzling her neck, sucking at her neck. No fucking way was he marking her skin, and she shuddered at the thought of his teeth on her.

Too many shadows in my head. Too many memories that won’t leave me alone.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” she said.

“For more than kissing,” Eric said with a chuckle as he pressed his erection against her stomach and she insinuated her hands between them. All she needed was a pivot point, and she could get him off her, but it would take some time.

“My family is here,” she said, still smiling up at him, even though panic began to filter into her thoughts. She desperately attempted to focus on sounds and smells around her—the baby crying, soft talking, the music filtering outside from the party, the scents of spring in the air. Anything to find peace.

“We can go in a minute, I want to fuck you here, right here,” Eric said. “So beautiful.”

“No.”

“C’mon, sexy, you could just suck me off.”

“Eric, get off me,” she said with more force. He still didn’t move.

“You should let her go,” a voice said from their side.

Eric looked sideways. “Fuck off, pretty boy,” he snapped. “Not your business.”

She didn’t recognize the new voice, and couldn’t see who it was, given her head was smushed up against Eric’s chest and turned the wrong way. It didn’t sound like her brother, though, or Justin, or Garrett, thank God. All of them would, in turn, yank Erik off, beat him into a bloody pulp, and then lecture her, and she’d stand there and take it like she always did, because she had no choice.

Choice had been taken from her, violently, brutally, and with utter finality a long time ago.

“Let me go,” Rachel snapped.

“Step away,” the man she couldn’t see said again. He was closer, or he was talking louder. Either way, she recognized that voice and her shame was complete. Danny Hudson.

“And I said, Mr. Millionaire, that you should fuck off back to wherever you came from.” Eric rested back on his heels, and that gap was enough to allow her to twist her hands, and kick his shin with her foot followed up by a knee to the groin as he stumbled back. With a shout of pain, Eric fell to his knees, cursing a storm.

“I said no,” Rachel said. She didn’t raise her voice, couldn’t even face Danny directly who was standing right there with a sleeping baby in his arms. She could see him move closer in her peripheral vision, hand outstretched, probably to help her, to reassure her? She didn’t know, but she didn’t need another man’s hand on her right now.

“Fucking cock-tease,” Eric cursed, pushing himself to stand, but not getting any nearer.

“You’re drunk, Eric,” Rachel said patiently.

“I’ve wasted a whole night on you,” Eric said. “I bought a fucking suit,” he added, a little more pathetically. He stepped toward Rachel and she tensed, sideways on, ready to take him down if she needed to, even though he’d passed from horny to affronted. He must have sensed her intention; either that or he was so drunk that he wasn’t focusing on what he wanted.

“It’s okay, Eric, you can go now,” she said, with patience, even though she felt sick and angry. Calm the situation, pay attention to the cues. The only cues Eric was giving were ones that screamed he was pissed.

Then he threw his hands in the air, stumbled at the momentum, and caught himself with another curse. Then he rounded on a startled Danny.

“No fucking way you’re getting inside the ice princess,” he snapped. Then without another glance, he walked away, limping as he did.

The words hurt. The fact that Eric called her ice. And that he was exactly right, she was ice. To the outside world Rachel appeared normal, but inside was nothing but ice.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked.

She couldn’t avoid looking at him, and wished she hadn’t. He looked worried; his mouth pressed into a tight line and concern written in every line of him. He used his free hand to push back his bangs, which had the annoying habit of falling over his eye, jiggling the baby as he stood. Not that she’d been watching him for the last few weeks. Ever since he’d arrived in Stanford Creek, he’d been right there insinuating into her life. He was friends with Megan, shot pool with Kyle, drank beer with Justin, and charmed everyone he met.

Gorgeous, lithe, muscled, with his floppy dark hair and stunning blue eyes, he’d caught Rachel’s attention; not in a sexual way, but in the way you’d stare at something to learn more about it. She was curious about the man with the child, and the air of sadness that followed him everywhere. Add in the fact that he seemed like a genuine guy, despite his career as a singer with a band, and he was an ordinary man.

Well, as regular as was possible for someone with his eyes, his body, and the fact he could sing and dance, had an adorable kid, and held a cloak of vulnerability around him.

The damn man was everywhere. Only yesterday she’d gone to Megan’s house and found Danny sitting on the sofa with Hope asleep on his chest, and it was all Rachel could do to turn straight back around and leave. She knew he was staying with her cousin but to see him in all his sexy cuteness, hugging Hope, and looking at Rachel with a welcoming smile on his face, was too much for her to handle.

She could almost imagine desiring a man like him, or, at least, the person he pretended to be. She liked to think she could see through everyone’s masks, but Danny was an intriguing mess of opposites. Quiet, but funny, sad, but happy with his child in his arms, he was contradiction central.

Desire? That wasn’t something she was going to feel again. She’d dated since college, but she kept things light and the men she was with knew the rules. One night only, no sex, then done. Thinking of an alternative to that was impossible. She blamed being close to Megan all day, every day; proximity was messing with her psyche. Just because Megan had a man to herself didn’t mean Rachel wanted one.

I don’t ever want one.

I can’t ever have one.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked, and she was mute, still staring at the arch Eric had limped through.

“Of course, I am,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

Danny finally quirked a smile at her. “So I see,” he said. Hope squirmed a little, her pacifier dipping out of her cute rosebud mouth, and he cooed at her and pressed it enough so she could find it and latch on. “I wanted to help, to get him off you; I couldn’t because I had Hope…”

“Like I said, I don’t need any help,” she said.

“Okay.” He was smiling at her now. “You want me to get someone? Your brother? Or Justin?”

Horror flooded her, not just at the idea of her brother getting up in her face about the choices she made. To add the sheriff in the mix, despite the fact he was her cousin, was a step too far.

“God no,” Rachel said, heat in her tone. She made a show of brushing herself down, even though there was nothing there, and Danny didn’t move. Was he waiting for something else? She searched her head for something to say, but social graces escaped her; particularly when her heart was still racing from Eric’s early exit from the party. Or at least from his kissing her.

She normally had all her defenses in place, the bubbly, slight ditzy Rachel who dated the wrong men and smiled at everyone. She’d made a perfect act of it, enough even to fool her observant family.

But one minute with Danny and abruptly she’d lost her ability to fake social graces with a man? At this point she was probably expected to thank the big strong man for his presence; that is what a normal, whole woman would do. Right? “Thank you,” she added grudgingly, and before she found herself saying anything else, she left.

“Rachel?”

Danny’s voice had her stopping, and she pivoted to face him, temper spiking. If he was going to lecture her, tell her that she’d pretty much asked for Eric to turn into a handsy asshole, she’d kill Danny dead. After taking Hope from him.

Of course, he wouldn’t say it outright; he’d maybe hint that her skirt was too short, or her top a little low cut, or maybe her lipstick was just a shade too red. She was used to that.

“What?” she asked, curtly, expecting the worst.

He held up his free hand in defense. “Whoa, I was just going to say you don’t need to thank me, I think you had it covered yourself, I was impressed.”

Temper inside her eased from boiling to simmering. He almost admitted right there and then that she didn’t need a man taking care of her problems. She nodded once, and with determination carried on back into the party, schooling her features into happy-smiling-carefree Rachel. She was good at that.

Kyle swung her into a dance as soon as she stepped inside, hugging her close, then passing her to Cody, who had some serious moves. She danced opposite him until she cried off, saying she needed wine.

She couldn’t help but track where Danny was sitting, and she found him, sitting at a corner table, rocking a car seat with Hope inside, and talking animatedly to Megan’s mom, her Aunt Shelby. He looked up as she glanced over, and nodded to her.

She had no idea what that meant. No idea at all.

She managed to get away from the dance floor, shimmied through the crowd to the open bar, grabbed two white wines, and went in search of Megan, who had positioned herself by the buffet table. She was massaging her wrist, which hadn’t long come out of the cast, and Rachel patted it gently in acknowledgement. Then she changed the subject.

“Your boyfriend can sure move despite the leg pain; I haven’t seen that much hip action since… well, ever. I thought he was supposed to be recovering.”

Megan laughed. “The doctor said it was okay as long as he felt right, he said he’d just shake his hips, nothing complicated.” Then she leaned in. “Anyway, you should see him in bed.”

Rachel waved a hand to fan her face. “Don’t start telling me sex stories now.”

“I wasn’t. Well not much. So many stories so little time.”

“Bitch,” Rachel teased. She could do this. She could do normal.

“What happened with Eric?” Megan asked as she placed her wine down next to a plate of fresh fruit.

Rachel sipped hers. “He got handsy; I sent him home.”

Megan sighed. “When are you going to learn? He’s an arrogant, entitled ass. Everyone knows he was an idiot at school, and he’s still one now.”

“Yeah,” Rachel said, non-committedly. She wasn’t ready for one of Megan’s well-meaning talks about how Rachel always went for losers; she’d heard them all before. Dating a loser as a defense mechanism worked well for her. Not one of them expected too much; no one wanted too much.

Losers don’t make you fall in love with them, lull you into a false sense of security, and then single-mindedly destroy you. She glanced over at Danny and met his steady gaze. He was staring at her, a thoughtful expression on his face, his head tilted a little to the left. She imagined he could see right through her, and that made her want to run. That was dangerous, and she didn’t like emotions that made life treacherous and unpredictable.

She looked away and focused back on Megan.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” She shimmied closer to her cousin and best friend.

“Would you dance when you can stand here and get an eyeful of that? Not just Cody, but Danny as well.”

Rachel turned to see that Danny had stood up, no sign of Hope in his arms, and he was moving to a complicated dance move with Cody, the two of them laughing like idiots.

Glancing back to where he’d been sitting, she saw that her aunt had Hope, rocking and staring down at the tiny baby. Something snapped inside her and a grief too hard to handle filled her thoughts.

“See?” Megan said, her voice in the distance, her laughter loud. “That is what I want to watch, sexy men dancing.”

But all Rachel wanted to do was run. Megan wasn’t drinking wine. She was sipping on Diet Coke and wearing a stupid grin, and Rachel instinctively knew that the bottom was about to fall out of her world. Why would Megan not be nursing a glass of wine like Rachel was?

The worst had happened, the best at the same time, Megan had to be pregnant.

I have to get out of here before everything closes in on me.

Rachel nodded and smiled, and talked to all the right people. She hugged her mom, kissed her dad, punched Kyle in the arm, then walked into the women’s restroom, two beers in her purse and an entire bottle of wine in her hand. She chose the last cubicle, locked the door, then sat on the closed lid, her feet up on the seat, her shoes on the floor, and the scent of a pine air freshener permeating her senses.

She drank the beers, then the wine straight from the bottle, and let the grief and anger wash over her.

She allowed herself to cry for a man who had hurt her.

And the baby who was gone.



CHAPTER TWO
 

Danny helped CJ to their table, supporting his weight until his friend managed to get into a chair. “You shouldn’t have done that much dancing, CJ.”

“My name is Cody, asshole,” Cody muttered.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Danny still had a hard time thinking about his best friend as anything other than CJ, but he was kind of getting used to it.

“Fuck,” Cody groaned under his breath as he settled into the chair.

Danny knew it was hard for Cody to walk properly. He was still in pain from the accident where a car had plowed into him, and dancing was likely something he shouldn’t be doing. His ribs were mended yet still sore, but there was nerve damage where his leg had been trapped between the car and the shop. Most of the time it was fine, but dancing energetically probably wasn’t the best thing. He attended physio and time would tell, but it would probably be something he’d live with on and off for a while.

“Felt good to dance, though,” Danny said, taking the seat next to Cody and picking up his beer. He’d been nursing the same one all evening and it was warm. But, it was something to hold that gave everyone looking at him the impression that he was like the others, and not avoiding drinking in case Hope needed him. Across the table Doctor Lindsay Mercer, Rachel and Kyle’s mom cradled a sleeping Hope, rocking her gently, and when Danny met her eye he inclined his head to indicate he’d take his daughter back. She smiled at him and shook her head, made a show of holding Hope tighter. Danny didn’t even worry, Lindsay was a doctor; who better to understand Hope’s issues and to hold her?

Megan danced her way over, bringing a fresh beer for Cody and sitting on his lap. He only winced once, then appeared to forget any pain as he held her as close as Lindsay was holding Hope.

He held her like he never wanted to let her go. Megan leaned down and spoke into Cody’s ear, and Cody talked back; all too low for anyone to hear, not even Danny who was right there next to them. Cody was different here, and not just because he’d fallen in love with Megan, and had a life-changing murder attempt thrown at him. Nope, he was different because somehow Stanford Creek had worked its magic around the man. He wasn’t messed up, or exhausted, or looking for anything that wasn’t the life he’d had. He was settled, steady, and he had Megan.

And Megan was really nice, funny, cute, and the two of them looked so good together. Cody had shown Danny some of the lyrics he’d been writing in the last month and they were good. Really good. In fact, maybe Hudson Hart would buy some of them. They weren’t all about love and romance in the way H2 fans expected—there were serious lyrics in the love songs. The fans might not like it to start with, but H2 had been temporarily disbanded six months now and they could come back from this with a whole new look. Serious, focused, less a boy band and more a group. They’d be a four-piece, what with Cody refusing to go back, but it could work, and Danny didn’t begrudge his friend from needing to stay out of it all. Being in Hudson Hart had messed with his mind, and his life, and he’d disappeared for a long time.

Of course, part of that was because of Danny and his stupid resentment. Cody had never liked Danny’s ex Katya, telling Danny that she was a user who had come on to him when she thought Danny wouldn’t find out. But Danny had been blinded by what he thought was love, chosen Katya over his friendship with Cody. He’d nearly lost his best friend over that, and he’d certainly lost a lot more.

“Is this where the boring kids sit?” Kyle asked as he turned a chair around and straddled it. He had his own beer, and another tumbler that held ice. No one else was listening to him, Cody and Megan kissing and talking low, and it seemed Danny was the one who’d have to answer. Which was difficult, because Kyle was Rachel’s brother, and Rachel was all kinds of hot and ticking all of Danny’s boxes. Hell, Danny had even contemplated asking if she’d like to get a drink with him at some point, despite the logistics of finding a babysitter for Hope and that Rachel clammed up as soon as they were in the same room together.

But yeah, more importantly, care for Hope. Because he was the one who knew Hope, the way her eyes brightened for him, the way she sometimes looked a little pale but that this was okay, why she cried, how she cried, how he could help her. He knew everything about her, knew what to do if she became ill, and didn’t quite trust anyone else yet, although living with Cody and Megan now meant they were getting used to her and listening to what he told them.

So, maybe not a date with Rachel then. Which was probably a good thing, because the way she looked at him made him feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

Add in what just happened in the gardens and he was on the back foot with her.

“Glad you could join us,” he teased, pulling himself back to that moment where he pretended with Kyle that he wasn’t thinking about kissing Rachel, sleeping with Rachel, doing all kinds of nasty with Rachel.

Kyle leaned over and gestured with his bottle, which Danny clinked with his own, like a bottle fist bump. Kyle was one of the good guys—thoughtful, hardworking, and constantly badgering his sister about her dates. Danny had seen all of this over the weeks he’d been in town. That was the one thing that drew him to her. Poor woman didn’t seem to get much right in the way of dating in her brother’s eyes. But, then, what Danny had just seen hadn’t looked good, and for the first time he agreed with Kyle.

Whoever had her pushed up against the fence was some kind of low life who needed someone to take him aside to explain why a man didn’t fuck around like that.

And fuck knows why, but Danny wanted it to be him. Because, seeing the guy’s paws all over her, the way he gripped Rachel’s ass, ground into her, and used his size to pin her, had Danny seeing red.

But she’d dealt with it in smooth moves, as soon as she had a pivot point. She had the fucker on his knees with his hands on his balls. Then she’d turned to Danny, like she expected him to say something bad.

But all he wanted was to applaud; only he couldn’t as he had Hope in his arms.

“Did anyone see Rachel? She brought that asshole Eric with her,” Kyle grumped. Danny realized he was scanning the crowd on the dance floor. “And last I saw, Eric was storming out the front door, and Rachel was drinking and had her face on,” he gestured at his own face and moved his finger, “the one where she’s all, nothing fucking matters so back off, big brother.”

Danny opened his mouth to tell Kyle what had gone down in the gardens, but that felt a little bit too much like siccing big brother onto Rachel, and Danny instinctively knew he shouldn’t poke the Kyle-bear where his sister was concerned. Kyle and Rachel had a similar look to them and both of them favored their mother. Doctor Lindsey Mercer had the same green eyes and broad teasing smile, a quirk of looking at you like they knew all your secrets.

Of course, there was a marked height difference between the siblings; Kyle was over six-foot, and Rachel was maybe five and half foot. Kyle was broad and built like his cousin Justin, whereas Rachel was all curves and legs that went on forever. Still, you knew Kyle and Rachel were related, emphasized by the bickering which reared its head every so often. Well, teasing more like, but still, Kyle loved to wind up his sister and worry about her in equal measure.

“She was talking to Justin,” Megan said. “Haven’t seen Eric come back in. Think she got him to leave.”

Danny stifled a smile; he didn’t imagine Eric would come back tonight, not after being taken down by Rachel in such a definite way. Kyle nodded, then relaxed at that reassurance, sipping his beer and leaning back to talk to his mom.

Danny thought maybe he should make the effort to talk to Kyle, given Megan and Cody were lost in each other and Lindsay was chatting to a friend and cooing over Hope, but before he could think what to say his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face when he saw Sam’s name there.

His brother, one of the founding members of H2, and the best singer in the band, was one of the reasons Danny smiled these days. Sam was lost when Hudson Hart split, easily the one who had felt it the most, but recently he’d become more positive. There were murmurings that the reunion concert could turn into a tour, and that meant that the four remaining members of H2, as Sam and Danny called them, could actually make some money. Money that meant Danny would be able to get a place, somewhere he and Hope could call home. Not to mention clear medical bills and plan for any more surgeries if Hope needed them.

Sam had pulled together a proposal for new music, cutting an album, doing something serious, and he’d presented it today to his agent; the same agent as Danny used, the same that still looked out for Cody’s interests, Zee Childs.

He answered the call, caught Lindsay’s eye to indicate he’d be outside, and was she okay with Hope? She nodded and smiled at him, and really, he was only just outside the main door and he could even see her if he looked through the glass.

He took the phone out to the hall.

“Hey,” he said.

“Danny, hey,” Sam replied, his tone flat.

Shit. His heart twisted in his chest. Sam sounded broken, and Danny knew how much today meant to his little brother. Evidently H2 were not going to be getting back together.

“Oh, Sam, shit,” he said, before Sam could say anything else. “Look, we’ll get a new management team, hell, a new agent, we’ll sort this.”

Silence. Sam said nothing. This was serious; Sam always had something to say.

“Danny, things didn’t go according to plan,” Sam began, and he sounded wrong. “You have to know I didn’t have any idea they’d do this, right?”

“What?” Danny glanced at Lindsay and Hope, his daughter sleeping, and moved further down the corridor, away from the rhythm of music and dancing, and ended up by the fire exit. Sam’s tone sounded serious and Danny wanted to listen properly. “Sam, talk to me.”

“Management have floated the idea of H2 being a three-piece,” Sam finally said. A hundred thoughts whirled in Danny’s head, until only one remained. That was him. Three meant only one thing; Management wanted the core of H2, they wanted Sam and the Hart twins, wanted it to be Zachary, Tyler and Sam. And why wouldn’t they? Sam was the voice, Tyler the counterpoint to Sam’s soaring vocals, and Zachary was a dancer that put them all to shame.

Danny had been the guy at the back, the same as Cody, but at least Cody had his lyrics, knew what he wanted to do. Why would they want Danny back? His ability to earn money for the label had nosedived with all the shit in the tabloids about him and Katya. His ex-wife had screwed him over completely, and he’d let her just so he’d have Hope.

Danny heard the guilt that consumed Sam, knew his brother was waiting for Danny to show disappointment. How could he do that to Sam? It wasn’t Sam’s fault if the management team were focusing on what was going to make them the most money.

“I thought they might,” Danny lied. Because that is what Danny did best—protected Sam, looked out for his little brother.

“You did?” Sam sounded uncertain, but Danny, in an instant, had decided how he was playing this. He didn’t need H2 like Sam; he didn’t breathe Hudson Hart like the twins. And hell, he’d still have his residuals, the five of them always had joint ownership of the songs they’d written themselves. That would be some money once the management team had been paid off.

“Of course, since Cody… y’know…” Since Cody left, the band was wrong, they’d limped along for a year before imploding, the dynamics wrong, with Danny having the trouble with Katya and then Hope arriving in his life, and the fact that the band had lost a lot of money. Danny didn’t say all that.

“Yeah,” Sam said, and he sounded pissed. “I tried everything, I promise.”

Danny forced himself to smile so that he didn’t sound destroyed to Sam. “Hey, little brother, you were the one born with the talent.”

Silence again.

“Dan, I’m sorry,” Sam said. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

The door opened to the room and music filled the corridor temporarily. A kid, no older than ten, grinned at him, and then scampered past him to the bathrooms. It took everything for Danny to smile back.

“Don’t be sorry, little brother. I’ll still have the residuals, and hell, I have a family I want to be with now.” Well, Hope at least. And Cody, who was more than his best friend now they’d reconnected.

“Dan, you know I’ll send what money I can.”

Pride stiffened Danny’s spine. “I’m fine, I don’t need money at the moment.”

“Where are you living?” Sam asked, and suspicion filled his voice.

“I have this place in town, I’ll send you an address and you can come visit if you get a chance, catch up with me, Hope and Cody.”

There was hesitation on Sam’s end, then his brother said, in a small voice, “You’re not coming back to LA then?”

Danny didn’t have to think long. LA was just a reminder of what he’d lost, and too close to San Diego where he’d been born and raised. Nope, this corner of Vermont was the best place for him to lick his wounds and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“No, I love it here.” Love. Like. Tolerate. It’s all the same thing, right?

“How’s my niece? How’s little Hope?” Sam asked, cautiously feeling his way through this minefield of a phone call.

“She’s good.”

“I want to visit. As soon as I have all this tied up I’m coming up there.” Danny did smile at that. He missed Sam. “When is she due her next checkup?”

“I don’t know yet, I’ll text you when I know for sure,” Danny lied, because right now he couldn’t think about dates and times of something that terrified him when his life was being pulled out from under him. The kid came out from the bathrooms, flicking water from wet hands as he passed, and dragged open the door. A Hudson Hart song swelled into the hallway, and Danny immediately covered the phone. He didn’t want a conversation about the irony of the universe from his brother.

“You okay?” Sam asked. He needed reassurance, and Danny was used to being the one that made things okay for others. That was how he ended up broke, divorced, and now with no career in sight.

But I have Hope, and she is all I need.

“God yes,” Danny said with injected enthusiasm. “Now I can start planning what Hope and I will do next.”

“I’ll get us a place, Dan, for all three of us, one day. I want to do that.”

Danny’s chest tightened. He missed Sam, they were close, and he knew Sam would do anything for him, but right now, he just wanted to get off the phone.

“Only if it’s in Stanford Creek, Vermont,” he put on his best teasing voice. Though, to be honest, he wasn’t lying when he said that. For the first time in a long time he was at peace in this place, with the river, and the family, and Cody, and that small town feeling. Or at least that’s what he tried to convince himself when he lay in bed at night wondering where the hell his life was going.

Sam huffed a laugh. “You’re happy there.” Then his tone sobered. “Leah always talked about wanting to move to a small town.”

Sam sounded sad, and that didn’t surprise Danny, Sam had been on the cusp of asking Leah to marry him when she’d been killed by a woman stalking Cody. That seemed like so long ago now, and Danny knew it had broken his brother for the longest time.

Danny didn’t hesitate for even an instant. “It’s a good place to bring up kids,” he hedged. “Look, I gotta go, I’ll text you with details for Hope, okay? Now, go kick ass.”

“Love you, Dan,” Sam added as he finished the call.

“Love you too,” Danny said. But he was talking to empty air.

For a few seconds he stood absolutely still, resting his head back on the wall, looking up at the squares in the ceiling. The door to the bathrooms opened and he immediately straightened, no way was he letting anyone catch him looking like he’d just got bad news. His eyebrows raised when he realized it was Rachel coming out from the ladies, her heels in one hand, an empty bottle of wine in the other, and she looked disheveled. He’d never seen her go in, so she’d probably been doing whatever girls did in bathrooms for such a long time, talking, or whatever. But no one else came out after her. And yeah, she looked wild-eyed and messed up. He couldn’t think of another word for it, her dress creased and rucked up on one side, her eyes bright, and a wide grin on her face.

“Hey sexy-Danny,” she slurred and gestured with the bottle which missed his arm by an inch. “You waitin’ for me?”

Danny pocketed his phone and relieved her of the bottle, placing it carefully on the floor before she beaned him with it. Then he took her arm when she wobbled dangerously.

“You’re drunk,” he announced.

She blinked up at him like this was a new thing to her, then giggled. Yep, full on giggled, before leaning on him and grasping his shirt in a fist. “I know.”

He held her so she wouldn’t fall, which necessitated one hand on her left arm, the other on her right hip. She was just the right size for the hold, fit into his arms just perfectly, despite the fact she was swaying. Then she moved, and ended up with her cheek on his chest, her heels dropping to the floor.

“Your chest,” she murmured against him.

“My chest what?” he asked, although he knew he wasn’t going to get an answer. He looked around in the vain hope someone was here to help her.

She pulled back, and he supported her again, and she looked up at him, her jade eyes swimming with tears. Then, in a messy uncoordinated movement, she went up on tiptoes and placed a wet kiss on his lips. Her aim was a little off, it was more half lip half face, but there was tongue, and Danny had never had such a sexy, unsexy, kiss before in his life. Didn’t matter that she was gorgeous and Danny really wouldn’t have minded a kiss. Nope, she was drunk, and needed her family, not some exhausted dad with brittle walls of protection.

He pressed her away gently, even as she chased for the kiss, and held her at arm’s length. She frowned at him.

“What’s wrong? Everyone wants to kiss me,” she announced.

This was clearly some kind of post trauma thing going on here. That confrontation with the guy in the garden had probably caused it. “I’ll get your mom.”

“No.”

“Megan?”

“Hell, no.”

“Kyle then.”

She yanked herself away, stumbling back and righting herself by leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. “Him? No,” she said.

She closed her eyes momentarily then opened them as she sighed. “Why don’t you want to kiss me?” she said.

“Because you’re drunk.”

Rachel pulled herself straight, and took the two steps to get back into his space, shoving him a little, and he was in the small alcove by the emergency door, his back to the glass.

“No. I’m. Not,” she said, very deliberately. Then she wrapped her hands around his neck. “I just need a kiss,” she murmured. “A nice one from a nice man.” The last she said really quietly and he had to strain to hear the words. And then he couldn’t think anymore. She pressed her lips to his, but not sloppy drunk and off target. No, this was calm, gentle, her tongue tasting the seam of his lips, and pressing for entrance. He could fight it, he could extricate himself if he wanted to, but his head spun with the bad news he’d gotten from Sam, and Rachel was as sexy to taste as she was to touch.

His lips parted and he deepened the kiss; he tasted wine and Rachel, and it was every bit as good as he’d imagined it would be. Call it the emotional intensity of that phone call or call it proximity, whatever it was, he was hard so damn fast. Hard and needy, and all he wanted was more of whatever Rachel was offering.

She pressed closer, his hand caught between them, he only had to move it a little, and he was caressing her belly. A little lower and she pushed at his hand so he cupped her mound, and she moved against him sinuously, a moan low in her throat.

And it was that moan that had him crashing back to reality. What the hell was he doing kissing a woman who was obviously drunk, and pressing against her like that?

Gently but firmly he disentangled himself and eased her away. She chased for the kiss, her eyes closed, but he couldn’t let this go on. She opened her eyes on a small sigh, and he could see the moment when reality crashed into her thoughts. Her eyes widened and she stepped back, a hand covering her mouth.

Then she slid her way down the wall, smoothly, until she was on the carpet. He crouched down in front of her.

“I’ll get some water.”

“No, don’t go, I don’t do this, not since college,” she said, so quietly he had to strain to hear.

“Getting drunk, you mean?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s scared.”

It’s scared? “What’s scared.”

“Me.”

“What?” Hadn’t she said it’s scared, not she was scared. This conversation wasn’t making sense.

“I know, she wasn’t drinking, so I know she’s pregnant.”

Danny reached out and brushed Rachel’s long dark bangs from her face, tucking the weight of it behind her ear. “Who is?”

Rachel looked at him, and he was lost in her eyes, the taste of her still on his lips. More wine than Rachel, he imagined, but still, he kind of wanted more.

She looked as if she wanted to say something and then shut her mouth, closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“Come on, let’s get you back.”

She didn’t move at first. “I can’t,” she said.

Something about tonight made Danny feel like Rachel was very good at putting up a front, at letting others see only what she wanted them to see. Inspiration hit him.

“People will come out, do you want them to see you like this?” he asked. Seemed like that was the right thing to say and she stiffened before shaking her head.

With his help she stood and he pulled at the skirt of her dress without her realizing, until it was even and showed nothing untoward. She reached into the purse on her shoulder, pulled out a mirror and checked her face, wiping at the black that was prominent under her eyes.

Then, shoulders back, she bent over and slid on her heels, and in a split instant it looked like she hadn’t touched alcohol, that she’d never let vulnerability show at all. With a nod at Danny, likely acknowledging nothing more than his presence, she turned and left him standing there, walking back into the party.

For a second he stood where he was, the crushing weight of Sam’s call, and the shit that stirred inside his head, overwhelming.

And then he copied Rachel’s example. Shoulders back, he went into the party, collected a sleepy Hope from Lindsay, securing her in the car seat, said that she needed a feed and he should go home, and left. The venue was a few miles from Stanford Creek, a country club that had a fleet of drivers at the disposal of the guests. He fixed the car seat into the back with him, and spent the three miles or so considering everything from the evening.

And coming to a few conclusions, which he attempted to put in order.

He was done singing with his brother and the twins. Okay, so that meant he needed another career, singing teacher maybe, or he could start up his own daddy-day care, or learn to fly fast jets. He shook his head at the turn of thought. Like flying jets was even an option with Hope in his life. He needed to find somewhere to live.

But mostly, and surprisingly given the weight of all the other things he had to contemplate, he wanted to kiss Rachel for real.

* * * * *


Out 1 September from All Romance e-Books