Dirty Hope Read online

  Women, not so much.

  Or rather woman. One in particular. Barb.

  Until her, he’d never had a problem knowing what to say to a woman or how to take care of one or make them happy. But then again, he’d only ever tried hard with Karly. Never wanted to try with anyone except her. Never expected that to change either. Even after she was gone.

  Gone. His wife was gone.

  The thought always sent a pang to his gut. Always. But over time that pain had lessened to something bearable. Something achy, but dull.

  He blew out a breath and examined the machine. “Wendel,” he called. “I need a blower over here.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  As he plucked at the rubber coated wires, his mind reeled with worry. The same as it always did. It was becoming a real problem, this anxiety that lived as a constant part of him these days. He could think of a million outlandish things that could go wrong at any given moment. Ways that Megan could be harmed, accidents that could cause his friends pain, an unspeakable number of ways Barb could get hurt on the race track…

  And it didn’t stop there. The worry could get especially meta without even trying. It took on a mind of its own.

  Was Megan warm enough with three sweaters? Did her shoes pinch her feet? Was he raising her okay without a mama?

  Was Rider doing fine now that he was mated? Could Sally be trusted not to hurt him like other women in his life had?

  Same for Aaron and Rod. Were his boys really solid now? Did mating like they had make that much of a difference?

  What about Old Man Hubbard. He was getting up there in age. Were the vixen’s helping him enough? Did he need anything? Was he comfortable?

  These were just some of the errant thoughts Adam couldn’t wrangle control of. Not to mention what race day always did to him. Every spinout, every slide, every flip, trick, and skid gave him heart palpitations and had him holding his breath until his lungs burned.

  It wasn’t always like this, he reminded himself.

  Losing Karly had shaken the foundation he was built on. It had made him question everything about himself. About life. About what could happen when you least expected it.

  Even still, things took a turn for the worse the minute the vixens rode into town.

  The first time he spotted Barb at Red Cap, he knew she was going to change things for him. And not in a way that he would welcome.

  She was bright and beautiful. Her expression was one hundred percent authentic at all times. Which meant it was either smiling or smirking. Or in very rare cases, scowling pissed. Usually when he was in the same room.

  She was sexy and fun. His complete opposite. She got his attention in a way no woman had in a long, long time. In a way he desperately didn’t want. And in the beginning, he swore he’d fight this attraction to her with everything in him. Even if he had to fight dirty. Because he wasn’t meant to feel again. Especially not love again.

  You couldn’t have a perfect life twice.

  Losing his other half meant he was half a fucking man, and he intended to stay that way.

  Those were his intentions.

  But now he found himself thinking about Barb often. Wondering if she was alone or what she’d eaten for dinner. If she was happy with her job as Head of Hospitality at Old Man Hubbard’s hotel.

  About the safety of her bike.

  And most recently, he’d been wondering if those fox hound fuckers that rolled into town a few months ago were trying to win her heart. He knew how important it was for shifters to find their true mates, and he knew those males were looking for theirs.

  Barb wasn’t for them.

  Or maybe she was, but he didn’t like the thought. Hated it actually.

  Adam jumped as Wendel knelt beside him and aimed the blower hose at the open machine. A hard blast of air cleared the view so Adam could locate the fried wires more easily.

  “Thanks,” he muttered.

  “No problem. The damage on the far end is patched. If you can fix this side, it should hold us over until we can get new parts in.”

  Adam nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  He just needed to get this fixed, then he could deal with shit at home. Barb babysitting Megan wasn’t ideal. Not if he wanted to keep his distance from the vixen. But at least with both of them safe in his home, he could breathe a little. For now, they were secure. They were fed. No one was getting to trouble for at least the rest of the night.

  And damn if trouble wasn’t that vixen’s middle name.

  The ringing of his phone from his back pocket jarred him from his thoughts.

  He let the wrench clatter to the floor and reached for his cell. If anything had happened to Megan…

  He didn’t even bother checking the number before hitting the button to answer the call.

  “Hello.” His voice was so hard, it almost hurt coming up his throat.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Rod deadpanned. The man was one of his closest friends, and the most sarcastic of them all. He said what he wanted, however he wanted, and expected the world to adjust. “This a bad time?”

  Adam blew out a breath. “Not the best if I’m honest. What do you need?”

  “Need… need… well, I need to bust your balls.”

  “What for now?”

  “Well see, I just heard that a certain blond vixen’s car is parked in your driveway. Is there something you forgot to tell me?”

  Adam scoffed. “You know you’re nosier than the old town gossips.”

  “That’s not an answer. Did you finally get tired of living in denial and ask her over?”

  Ask her over. The back of Adam’s neck turned hot just thinking of Barb being in his home for that reason. “That’s not how I work and you know it.”

  “Still. Not. An answer. You are the king of denial, you know that? The Tut of rebut, if you will. The pharaoh of—”

  “I’m at work.” Interrupting was the only way to shut this shit down.

  “You’re at work. This late?”

  “Got called back in to fix the lathe. There was no one to watch Meg.”

  “So Barb’s babysitting.”

  “Yes.”

  “Hm.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing. It’s sweet, that’s all.”

  “Sweet? What are you talking about?” Rod’s life had leveled out a lot since mating Seraphina, but it wasn’t like him to use the word sweet. Although... losing his mother recently had made him a little more sentimental.

  “Barb adores Megan. Haven’t you ever noticed how she looks at the girl. Her eyes do that glowy female thing that means they care. You know. Big eyes get kinda shiny and shit. Happens to Seraphina all the time.”

  Adam frowned, grateful that he was on the phone and Rod couldn’t see him. Barb was friendly, and she’d always been nice to Megan, but there was no reason to think her feelings for his girl went any deeper.

  “I haven’t seen anything like that.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re not looking,” Rod mused.

  His friend wasn’t wrong. He was definitely not looking for reasons to soften toward Barb anymore than he already had. “I should get back to work.”

  “Yeah, you do that,” Rod agreed. “We still meeting Rider and Aaron for beers tomorrow night?”

  “Still on.”

  “Awright, then. Later.”

  It was after midnight when Adam pulled his truck into the driveway of his home. The front porch was lit up bright and through the windows, he could see the glow of the TV playing some late night show.

  The entire ten minute drive from the factory to his house was an exercise in how to breathe while trying not to shatter apart from the inside. He’d forgotten what it was like coming home to a woman. What it felt like to be walking into a house that wasn’t empty, and the concept was wreaking havoc on his anxiety. What would he say to her? Could he keep his composure? Would he want to kiss her?

  There’d been moments before, when the desire was nearl
y overwhelming. If he could just quiet his mind, maybe he wouldn’t be such a mess.

  Sitting in the cab of his truck, he went through the deep breathing exercises Dr. Tracey had taught him. No one knew he’d seen the doc because he thought he was dying of a heart condition and was terrified to leave Megan without a father. But all those cardiac tests came out normal and he learned a shit ton about panic attacks and the nervous system and the way your mind can send false signals to your body to make it think you’re about to keel over.

  Ten more minutes of breathing and building up the courage to walk into his own house, and he was finally climbing the steps to unlock the front door. Easing inside, he dropped his boots by the door and listened. It was quiet. Even the television was turned down low, as if Barb didn’t want to disturb Megan’s sleep. Little did she know the girl could probably sleep through an actual train wreck.

  A smile softened his lips and took him by surprise as he passed through the kitchen and noticed a plate full of food had been left for him. It was an odd feeling to have someone looking out for him. He was the one who played that role for everyone else, but since Karly, he’d been on his own. The way he took care of shit made him proud. Being a single father was hard, and he’d risen to the occasion. But he couldn’t deny what Barb’s small gesture did to his heart.

  Made it want to open, when he needed to keep it shut.

  Made it want to grow, when growing meant saying goodbye to the past.

  He stood at the counter, contemplating his next move. He’d have to face her soon. It wasn’t as though he could bypass the living room to escape to his bedroom. And even if he could, she wouldn’t just leave without speaking to him.

  You idiot. Get moving.

  He sighed. Time to get this over with.

  Adam opened his mouth to call out, but as he stepped through to the living room, he noticed her curled on the couch. Fast asleep.

  Shit.

  The sight of her so at peace in his home, like… like she belonged here, had his feet frozen to the floor. He let his eyes roam, grabbing onto every detail before he could tell them not to. She had changed out of the clothes she was wearing at the shop. Now she wore dark leggings and a big oversized sweatshirt. The thing hid all her beautiful curves but it looked comfy as hell. Made him want to hold her. Like she was a fucking teddy bear or something. Her long blond hair which was usually high on her head in a ponytail, was now loose and scattered over the throw pillow she rested on. Her hands were folded under one cheek and a soft snore sounded every three breaths.

  Shit. His heart thundered in his chest, fighting off a volley of emotions and losing the battle.

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, he picked up the remote and turned off the TV, hoping the silence would wake her up. It didn’t. Call him weak, but the idea of waking her himself left him feeling sad. In this moment, there was no animosity, no awkwardness, no reason to hide his yearning. He’d lost a lot in life. Losing this tiny breath of time would just be another thing on the list. The day had been shitty enough. No reason to make it harder.

  Crossing the room, he dug a blanket out of the basket he kept in the corner and brought it back to the couch. Carefully, he spread it over her legs and tucked it around her shoulders. She didn’t stir.

  Okay. So Barb was staying here tonight. In his living room. On his sofa. It was fine. Everything was fine.

  He stood back, taking one more look before he went to check on Megan.

  Chapter Three

  “Shhh. Don’t wake her, daddy! She’s working on her sassy sleep.” The familiar voice bled through Barb’s consciousness, dragging her from the depths of a hard, solid slumber. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d made it the whole night without waking.

  But why was she hearing sweet little Megan’s voice right now? And why was her bed harder than usual?

  “Her sassy sleep?”

  She was dreaming, wasn’t she? Because that voice belonged to Adam. And maaaaybe he’d starred in her dreams a time or two before, but since those were… ahem… lusty in nature, Megan was never part of them.

  Barb tried to open her eyes but waking seemed so far away.

  “Mm hmm. Sassy sleep. Barb says we don’t need beauty sleep because we’re already beautiful enough. But we do need sassy sleep. Very important.”

  “That right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well it seems like Barb is sassy enough too. She probably needs less than you, so we should wake her up.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Not until you make her breakfast.”

  Just as she was about to come to, Adam chuckled and her world stood still.

  The man… chuckled.

  She’d never heard him laugh before. Not a true laugh. Only sarcastic or derisive ones. This time, it was different. This must be how her psyche imagined he was with his daughter. Lighter, more carefree. Even if it was just for spare moments at a time. She didn’t want to break the spell.

  “You want me to make her breakfast?” Adam’s voice held a hint of teasing.

  “Of course, daddy. You have to make it for me anyways. You might as well make some for Barb. She deserves it.”

  “She does, huh?”

  “Mmm hm.”

  “Why?” Adam asked, his tone going suspicious. “Were you lots of trouble last night?”

  “No!” Megan gasped, and then lowered her voice. “No, daddy. I was super good. When she wakes up, I’m sure she will tell you so.”

  “Mmm. Maybe that’s why you want me to let her sleep? Is that why, Nutmeg?”

  “Daddy, nooo.” Megan giggled and Barb came awake enough to realize she wasn’t dreaming. Suddenly, she was very aware that she was lying on Adam’s couch. And if the light filtering through her eyelids was any indication, it was morning. Which meant…

  Shit.

  Shit.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s go find something to eat.” Adam’s voice was so warm, it sounded like sunshine. Who was this man? Where was the gruff and grouchy one she was used to? It was like he was two different people entirely.

  “Okay, daddy, but remember. It has to be something very yummy so she’ll eat it. She didn’t eat dinner last night.”

  Adam grumbled something that ended with, “… she hates lasagna. Who in the world hates lasagna?”

  “No, she doesn’t. She loves it.”

  Shit.

  “Then why didn’t she eat?”

  “I dunno.”

  Barb pried her eyes open to confirm her suspicions. Yep. This was Adam’s living room and that was the sunlight streaming in through the window blinds. She was exactly as she’d been the night before when she drifted to sleep. The only thing changed was the TV was turned off and a blanket had been draped across her legs.

  She blinked, trying to understand why she was still here. Had he left her to sleep or was he just now getting home? Surely it was the first option. She hoped it was the first option.

  Reaching up, she patted her lopsided ponytail. God, she probably looked like hot raccoon death. Eye makeup and her pale skin made for an ugly morning if you didn’t wash it off. And yeah, she didn’t eat the lasagna but her breath still tasted like a garlic clove had sex with a mushroom and made a nasty morning breath baby.

  Move, Barb. You can’t let him see you like this.

  Easing off the couch, she grabbed her purse and tiptoed to the bathroom, hoping to gain her composure before they realized she was awake.

  Closing the door as quietly as she could, she took a deep breath and turned to the mirror…

  Well, shit on a shingle.

  She looked like a smooshed marshmallow. The roasted kind, with charred crust on the outside but too goopy in the middle so when you pull it off the skewer, it loses all its goodness. That was her face.

  Charred goopy marshmallow.

  It wasn’t a problem. Everything was fine. Just fine. She could fix this in a matter of minutes.

  She pulled a p
ack of makeup remover wipes from her purse and quickly scrubbed down. For once, she was grateful that she’d spent a few extra dollah-dollah bills on the expensive stuff. These things were like Magic Erasers for the face.

  When she was finished, she put on fresh moisturizer and brushed her teeth. “Thank you, Barb, you wonderful bitch, for being smart enough to carry a toothbrush in your purse,” she muttered to herself. “And curse anyone who has made fun of said suitcase sized purse.” Sally.

  Quickly, she ran a brush through her long hair and tucked it back into a messy bun on top of her head. Standing back to check her reflection, she gave a sigh. Not her A+ game, but pretty decent for having slept on a couch with makeup on.

  This was as good as it was getting.

  She was a less charred marshmallow.

  With a long blink, she drew in a deep breath. Okay, foxilicious… if you got any vixen goodness in there that can erase these red marks on my cheek, go at it, mmkay?

  Her vixen didn’t answer, and she didn’t expect it to. In fact, she doubted anyone else talked to their inner animals the way she did, but she liked talking to herself. It was like having a built-in bestie. Because seriously, she was awesome.

  She was… but believing it was the hard part.

  “You’re awesome,” she said aloud to the mirror with a nod. “He’d be lucky to have you. Of course he would. If he can’t see it, then he’s blind.” She nodded. “Yep.”

  With another breath for courage, she stepped out of the bathroom and made her way toward the kitchen where Megan’s giggles bounced off the walls.

  As soon as she walked into the room, they both went quiet. Adam stood at the stove, a spatula in one hand. Wearing a white t-shirt and dark jeans, he looked so yummy she didn’t even care what he was actually cooking. He stared at her like he’d forgotten she was on his sofa. But something was different this time. Maybe it was just because Megan was there, but he seemed more relaxed than normal. Less guarded.

  God, she could picture him like this all the time, with his walls down, no fear or bitterness. How amazing would that be, to see him happy. For that to be his normal.