If You See Her (18 page)

There was a pitcher of peach tea in there—hers. Law wouldn’t drink any sort of tea with fruit in it. Actually, the only tea
he
liked came in a gallon jug from the grocery store.

Taking the pitcher out, she glanced at Remy. Although she really wanted him to go back out there and finish up whatever business he had with Law, manners dictated she be polite. “Would you like some tea?”

“Sure.”

As he slid onto a stool, she turned to the cabinets and bit her lip. Damn it. Now what?

“Ahh, if you need to discuss some things with Law, I can bring it out to you,” she offered.

“I’m not here on business.”

“Oh?” She shot him a quick, nervous look and then focused back on the glass-fronted cabinets. Relief jolted through her and the tension she hadn’t realized she was feeling started to unravel. Taking a deep breath, she set the pitcher down before it fell from her hands. Resting them flat on the counter, she stared at the cabinets and tried to remember what she was doing.

Her dry throat clued her in.

Tea.

Drinks.

For her. For him.

That meant glasses. Two of them.

Even as she thought she could maybe relax, a whole new sort of tension decided to creep in.

Damn it, why was he here if he wasn’t talking business?

He and Law weren’t exactly friends, were they?

Getting a couple of glasses down, she took her time getting ice from the freezer, tried to pretend her hands weren’t just a little unsteady. Friends … had Law ever mentioned Remy before—like on the friend-type level? No, Hope was pretty sure he hadn’t. But that didn’t mean much.

“So you’re just …”

She turned around and then jumped as she realized he’d gotten up and moved around the table, his feet soundless on the smooth, polished wooden floors.

He stood just a few feet away, leaning against the counter, his thumbs hooked in his pockets, his eyes watchful.

Her heart fluttered.

Spinning back around, she grabbed the pitcher and poured his tea. Anything to avoid looking at him, anything to give herself a chance to settle—not that she
could
. After she poured the tea, she turned around and pushed it at him so fast some of it sloshed out onto her hand, but she didn’t care. She needed him
out
of there.

“There you go,” she said, forcing a tight smile. “Now, if you don’t mind, I really do need to get some stuff done now.”

“Is that a polite way of telling me to leave?” Remy said, lifting a golden brow.

Hope swallowed, then bit her lip. “Actually, it wasn’t much of an attempt to be polite—I’ve got some things to do and I’m sure you have better things to do than stand around in here with me.”

“Actually …” He looked down at the glass of tea he held in his hand, stared at it as though he found it fascinating. “Now that you mention it, you’re kind of the reason I came out here.”

“I am?”

Her heart started racing, but this time it was fear.

Oh, God.

He’d said she wasn’t going to be arrested, and for some reason, she
did
believe him. But that didn’t mean he wanted somebody like her hanging around his town.

She had already caused all sorts of trouble or at least, it seemed like it had followed her. Despite the fact that she’d only been in town a few weeks, she already knew the kind of influence the Jennings family had around here. Was he here because …

“Hope?”

Screw that
, she thought, turning away from him once more. She poured her own tea and took a sip, slowly, deliberately.
You haven’t done anything wrong. This is Law’s home—as long as he says you’re welcome, you don’t have to go anywhere
.

“Hey, are you in there?”

Shooting Remy a narrow look over her shoulder, she bit off, “I’m standing right here. Where else would I be?”

Turning around, she lifted her glass to her lips, took another drink of the tea. Her throat was still dry, burning tight, and her heart raced. But she was mad, and getting madder. Fed up, she realized.

It had taken her almost fifteen years to find her stopping point, but damn it, she was sick and tired of being pushed around and if this slick lawyer thought he had any right …

“Why do you suddenly look so pissed off?” Remy asked.

“Why?” Hope asked slowly. She set the glass down and then folded her arms over her chest, staring at him. “Well, let me see. First I get arrested for something I didn’t do. I get attacked. Nobody
believed
me when I said I didn’t hurt Law, except Law, of course. Well, Law and a few other people. But that’s beside the point. I didn’t do a damn thing. And now you’re out here harassing me. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong and if you
think you can make me leave your precious little town, you can shove it.”

Remy blinked. Then he passed a hand over his face and muttered something too low for her to hear. Finally, he looked back at her and said, “Okay, exactly what have I done that you consider harassment, Hope? And when in the hell did I say anything about you leaving?”

“Well, why else would you be here?” she demanded defensively. Spine rigid, she shoved off the counter and just barely resisted the urge to back away as he took a step toward her. “It’s not like you and Law are best buds or something. Are you?”

“No.” He snorted. “Up until the past few weeks, I could hardly stand him, if you want the honest truth.”

“Well, then.” Hope sniffed. That just proved he was too much of an idiot to waste time on anyway. “See? You’re not hanging out here to shoot the breeze with him, so the only other reason you’d be here would be me.”

Remy blew out a slow breath. “I’m following
that
part of your logic, but I still fail to see why you automatically assume I’m here because I’m trying to run you out of town.”

“What else would it be?” She hunched her shoulders. “Unless you lied about not wanting me arrested. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Remy closed his eyes and tried to figure out if he had ever heard a more convoluted line of thinking.

He was pretty sure he had—after all, he was a lawyer, he’d heard some seriously inventive arguments.

But this … Opening his eyes, he studied her heart-shaped face. Without all that hair, she didn’t look so fragile, he realized. Not that she really was, he was coming to realize. A fragile woman would have broken after what had been done to her. No matter what people
thought, Hope hadn’t broken. She had been forced to bend, to take unimaginable shit and heartbreak.

But she hadn’t broken.

She had to be one of the strongest women he’d ever met.

Still, just looking at her flooded him with the most insane urges—the need to protect her. The need to touch her. The need to fuck her. The need to see her laugh. To smile … at him.

And she thought he was here because he wanted her out of town?
His
town? Like he owned the damned ground it was built on?

Shit.

“I’m not here because I’m trying to run you out of town,” he finally said, when he thought he might be able to say it in a somewhat level voice.

With that doubt still glinting in her pale green eyes, she jerked one shoulder in a shrug. “Fine. Then whatever you’re doing here, would you please just get it over with? Please? So you can leave?”

Something moved inside him. It might have been anger. Might have been wounded pride. Might have been frustration … or all of the above. “Just get it over with?” he repeated, some of his tension edging into his voice.

“Yes.” She swallowed. “Please.”

“So polite. Even when you’re that pissed off at me. Still so polite,” he murmured. “Okay, Hope. I’ll get it over with.”

Then he closed the two feet between them. He wanted to touch her … fuck it, he wanted it so bad, he hurt with it, ached with it, would have gone to his knees and begged if he thought it would have done any good.

Instead, he jammed one hand into a pocket, closed it in a fist.

He raised the other hand and used the tip of his finger to lift her chin.

He had just a second to see her eyes flare wide before he dipped his head and brushed his mouth against hers. Just the lightest brush—hardly enough to even get a taste.

Still, that one taste blistered through him, rushed through him, setting his blood to boil.

He heard her gasp, felt it … and as her lips parted against his, he wanted desperately to tease that slight opening with his tongue, see if he couldn’t coax her mouth into opening for him, just a little more.

Instead, he whispered against her lips, “I’ve wanted to do that from the first second I laid eyes on you.”

Then he turned around, and without looking at her again, he left the kitchen.

He didn’t stop to say anything to Law, didn’t stop until he was in his car with the seat belt fastened. And even then, he wouldn’t let himself look back, wouldn’t let himself look and see, if maybe, just maybe, she had come to watch him leave.

She was still standing there, dazed, when Law came into the kitchen about two minutes after the front door closed.

Still standing there, with her hand touching her lips, and her heart racing.

Remy had just kissed her.

And right before he had lifted his head, he’d whispered,
“I’ve wanted to do that from the first second I laid eyes on you.”

“Hey.”

Shaken, she looked up and saw Law standing by the island, staring at her, his face drawn tight in a worried scowl. “You okay there?”

“Um … I … I’m not sure.”

He leaned back against the counter, assuming almost the same pose Remy had stood in just minutes earlier. Hope closed her eyes and then immediately wished she hadn’t, because she could see that image in her mind, the way his shirt had stretched across his shoulders, the way the light glinted off his hair.

Then she found herself thinking about how he’d stared into her eyes as he’d lowered his head and kissed her …

“Hope?”

Gulping, she opened her eyes and stared at Law.

“Remy kissed me.”

If she’d expected Law to be shocked, well … she was expecting too much. All he did was lift a brow and fold his arms over his chest. “Okay. So is that a problem for you?”

“A problem?” She shoved a hand through her hair and shook her head. “Damn it, Law. He kissed me! A week ago he was out here grilling you about me and today he thinks it’s okay to
kiss
me?”

“Actually, a week ago, he wasn’t
grilling
me about anything.” Law’s mouth softened in a smile. “He just wanted to …”

She grimaced. “Find out things he had no right finding out.”

Law sighed. “Hope, he already had most of it figured it. He just wanted to make … hell. Look, cut him some slack. The guy was in one shitty place—I get the feeling he was …” He scowled, a dull red flush climbing up his cheeks. “Damn it, this is like giving a kid sister dating advice or something. Look, I think he’s been attracted to you like from the get-go, but can you figure out where that put him? Whether we
like
it or not, somebody did a damn good job trying to set you up and I hate it like hell, but what kind of man would he be if he turned a
blind eye to his job just because he thought the girl involved was cute?”

Hope blushed and looked away. “I’m not …” Then she stopped herself. The hell she wasn’t mad about it. But she understood what Law was getting at. “I understand he had a job to do—I do. I don’t have to
like
it, but I understand it. Still, this is giving me whiplash.” Looking down, she stared at the healing scars on her wrists.

Gingerly, she touched one, winced at the lingering pain. She’d carry those scars for life, forever carry that reminder that somebody hadn’t just tried to kill her, but they’d tried to do it in a way that had made the past two years of her life a lie. So what if she’d spent them running—she’d left her husband, that bastard who’d tried so hard to destroy her.

She was trying to be strong. These marks were done to make her look like a coward.

“Law, I don’t know if I’m up for this. I’m just … I’m so confused,” she murmured.

Heaving out a sigh, he lifted a hand. She placed hers in it and he tugged her close, tucking her up against his chest. As he rubbed a hand up and down her back, she snuggled close and tried to relax, but she couldn’t. Just couldn’t.

Her heart was still racing, her mind was whirling … and her mouth. It burned.

“There’s only one question you really need to focus on right now,” Law said pragmatically. “And it’s a simple question. You answer that, and after that, you decide where to go from there.”

“Okay.”

“Are you attracted to him?”

Hope winced. “Damn it, you call that simple?”

“Well, yeah.” He reached up and tugged on her shortened hair. “It’s a very simple question.”

She pulled away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “It’s
not
simple.”

Grinning at her, he said, “Sure it is. And here’s how you can tell … when he kissed you, did you have that
ewww, gross
moment, or did you, well, you know, like it?”

Blood rushed to her cheeks—stained them pink. She didn’t even have to see it—she was blushing, painfully, vividly blushing. Covering her face with her hands, she turned away.

Behind her, Law chuckled. “And there’s your answer. Hope, you like the guy, and I can tell you this—he’s a decent guy.”

“Hell, that shows what
you
know—up until recently, he didn’t even
like
you.”

“That’s no surprise.” Law shrugged. He shoved overlong hair out of his eyes and said, “He used to date Lena, and well …”

Hope frowned and pressed a hand to her belly, a little dismayed when it clenched. “He dated Lena?”

“Yeah. Rubbed me wrong like crazy, and he knew it, too. So …” His voice trailed off.

Feeling the weight of his stare, she shot him a glance and then looked away, trying to shrug off the heavy, weighted feeling in her gut. Lena. Of course, Remy had dated Lena. Why wouldn’t he?

She was beautiful. And she had
it
—that indefinable something. She wasn’t the kind of woman who would ever—