Dirty Hope Read online

  Hashtag goals.

  She was going to write it down in her planner.

  “Uh… hi.” Barb lifted her chin and resisted the urge to wring her hands.

  “Barb!” Megan sprang from her seat at the counter and wrapped her arms around Barb’s waist for a hug. “Did we wake you up? Was I laughing too loud? I was trying to make sure you got plenty of sassy sleep.”

  The little girl’s enthusiasm was contagious and Barb let out the breath she was holding to smile down at the girl.

  “No worries, girly. It was time to wake up. In fact…” She looked back at Adam. “… it was past time. I didn’t mean to stay the night.”

  Adam hadn’t moved an inch. His hand still held the spatula halfway over the pan and his eyes seemed like they’d never left her.

  Her stomach twisted with nerves. That familiar feeling of embarrassment crept up her cheeks.

  Why was he looking at her like that? Did her face really look like a smashed marshmallow? Or had she just overstepped his boundary again? It wasn’t like she could have just walked out the front door without at least saying bye to Megan.

  Heavy smoke wafted from the pan two seconds before the smoke alarm started blaring to snap Adam out of whatever trance he was in.

  “Shit!” he growled.

  “Daddy! Language.” Megan screeched over the alarm in order to be heard as Barb sprang into action, grabbing a hand towel and fanning the air near the smoke detector. Adam quickly dumped the blackened pancake down the disposal. Megan ran from the kitchen and came back with a towel from the bathroom which she waved frantically above her head even though she wasn’t tall enough to make much of a difference.

  Seconds later, the alarm ceased and the silence was nearly deafening. Barb turned to find Adam staring at the two of them, one eyebrow raised.

  Megan fisted her hands and set them on her hips. “Daddy, how could you?”

  Adam’s eyebrows shot into his forehead. “Come again.”

  “I told you breakfast had to be good!”

  “There’s an entire stack of perfectly acceptable pancakes, your highness.” Adam swung his arm toward the counter where a plate full of flapjacks sat waiting to be scarfed.

  Megan crossed her arms. “Hmph.”

  “I believe what you meant to say was thank you.” He grabbed a clean plate and piled two pancakes on top, dousing them with syrup, before setting them on the bar for Megan.

  She glanced guiltily at Barb… at the pancakes… and then back to her father. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. Barb couldn’t help admiring him right then. He was stern but his expression was soft when dealing with Megan. He was nothing like the foxes she was raised with, brutal and harsh. He might not have patience for any adult in the world—least of all her—but he was a wellspring of it for his little girl.

  Adam reached for another plate and stacked it high with food. This one, he set at the spot next to Megan. He added a fork to the plate and filled a cup with orange juice before finally finding Barb’s gaze.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” he murmured. “This little girl is afraid you’re going to starve.”

  The pancakes smelled delicious. They really did. And her stomach was going to eat itself soon if she didn’t give it food. But she couldn’t help feeling like he’d been coerced into this little breakfast.

  “I’m not really—”

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re not,” he rumbled, sounding so alpha that her vixen wanted to bow to him. The way he stared at her was like he could see everything. All the secret longings she had for him. All the fears that he’d never return the feelings. How deeply out of place she felt in his home.

  Okay, clearly not that out of place, because she’d conked out on his sofa. But still. The uncertainty, did he want her here or not, was getting hard to stomach.

  “Eat, princess,” he said softly, and her belly went wild with butterflies. It was the first time he’d ever used the word in a way that sounded sweet instead of mocking. The effect it had on her was like a drug. It sent her into a daze of bliss.

  Mine, her fox purred. Mine.

  He stepped back to the stove and she settled next to Megan to eat her pancakes. Two bites in and Barb’s stomach stopped its revolt. Maybe she was just really hungry, but Adam’s pancakes were the best she’d ever eaten. “These are delicious,” she told him, and she was rewarded with a fraction of a smile. But it was fine. In fact, it was amazing. Because that smile was real.

  A real damn smile from Assey Adam Kennedy.

  Miracles do happen, she thought.

  A few minutes later, he joined them at the counter and they all ate in silence until Megan’s head popped up like she’d just had a lightbulb moment.

  “I got a really great idea, daddy.”

  “What’s that, Nutmeg?” he asked, shoving a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.

  “Well, you know how we’re going to Game Palace today?”

  Adam set his fork down and stared at his daughter. “Yes?”

  Megan smiled a winning grin that Barb suspected had gotten her out of trouble a time or two. Barb couldn’t keep her own grin from forming. That’s right, girly. Use that smile power.

  “Wellll. I was a’thinking. What if Barb came with us?”

  Barb had just lifted her glass and taken a giant swallow of OJ. Bad timing because the little girl’s words had her choking it back up. She went from marshmallow to nose fountain. Super classy. This is how you get the guy, bitches.

  When she managed to stop choking, she found Adam frowning at her. More accurately, scowling.

  There. There was the human she knew and loved.

  Barb cleared her throat.

  “I’m sure Barb has things to do today,” Adam muttered.

  Megan turned to her. “Is that true? Are you busy?”

  Barb cleared her throat again. Was that some orange pulp stuck in the back or was it her ego and its inability to take one more second being not wanted?

  Megan blinked up at her, expecting an answer. She wouldn’t lie to the girl. Not even to avoid humiliation.

  “Well, let’s see.” She stalled by rifling through her purse to dig out Bitch, her faithful planner. She was a planner junkie through and through. Talking colored pens (the erasable kind, of course), stickers, washi tape, stencils, the whole shebang. She made sure Bitch was dressed up like a fucking queen, and Bitch repaid the favor by keeping her life on track.

  She set the planner on the counter and did her best to cover the silver scrolling words on the cover. My Bitch was probably something Adam didn’t want Megan to repeat. Flipping to the current week, she silently prayed there would be something written on the page for today’s date.

  Her prayers were not answered. The page was blank as a fresh snow.

  “Uh… no,” Barb said, closing the planner and pushing it away. “Not terribly busy today.” She avoided Adam’s stare by forking up another bite of pancakes even though she probably couldn’t get it down her throat even if she wanted to.

  “See, daddy?” Megan exclaimed.

  “Megan,” Barb interrupted gently. “I think today is supposed to be just for you and your father.”

  The relief on Adam’s face was palpable. It sent a pang to Barb’s chest. It was a double ache when little Megan’s expression fell like a tree crashing in a forest.

  She turned to Adam. “But daddy, you said we could do anything I want today, that I get to choose. I really, really want Barb to come with us.”

  “I did say that, baby, but—”

  “There are no buts on promises! That’s a rule. Daddy, you have to follow the rules, even if you made ‘em.”

  Adam pressed his lips together and Barb held her breath. There was no way this was going to end well. Her face would be flaming all the way home. Her fingers and toes were already numb with shame. Just call her Mortified Marshmallow Face because that’s all she could take away from this morning. She wasn’t a crier
, but she felt like tears waited just past her eyelids anyway.

  “Okay,” Adam said, leaning back in his chair.

  Wait, what?

  “Barb can come with us,” he told Megan, who was already bouncing in her seat. “But only on one condition.”

  Her smile was huge, as if she already knew this was a foregone conclusion. “Anything, daddy. What is it? Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

  Adam turned his gaze on Barb.

  “Two conditions, actually. No go-kart racing—”

  “But dad—”

  “No racing, Megan,” Adam said firmly, giving his daughter a hard look before turning back to Barb.

  “Oh, all right.”

  It was an odd request coming from him since racing was such a huge part of their lives, but Barb tucked it away to think about later.

  “And second,” he continued, his gaze softening again as he looked at Barb. What was this? “Winner buys lunch, loser chooses where.”

  She stared at him. There was an almost playful gleam in his eye.

  Was this real life? Maybe she was stuck in a silly dream where all her wishes magically came true. But no, it couldn’t be that. Because she’d seen the trepidation in him just minutes ago. That desire to shore up his defenses and push her out.

  “I’ll agree to that.” She smiled, testing the waters. So far, so good. He wasn’t scowling or biting her head off. “But I gotta warn you, I always win.”

  Adam smirked. “We’ll see, princess.”

  Princess. God, the way he said it now versus the way he did a day ago… it made her heart pitter-patter. Made her animal writhe beneath her skin.

  If he kept this up, she might just lose on purpose.

  Chapter Four

  Game Palace was a giant cinder block and steel building decorated with countless neon signs and flashing lights. It boasted an all-in-one experience of fun with laser tag, mini golf, bowling, go-karts, and an arcade. It was Megan’s favorite place, but since it was in the next county over, they could only go on Adam’s days off. Which were few and far between.

  The thirty minute car ride over was a lesson in torture as Barb and Megan did an entire round of 99 Bottles of Sweet Tea on the Wall. But fuck him, because it wasn’t the singing that he found torturous. It was the obvious connection his daughter had made with the vixen. And how Barb clearly reciprocated. Megan had a heart the size of a cantaloupe, but she didn’t take to any woman like she’d taken to Barb.

  All this made it harder for him to rationalize keeping his distance. Made it harder to fight his feelings for her.

  And shit, did he have feelings.

  When she’d walked into the kitchen, bare faced and pretty as hell, he’d wanted to march right up to her and kiss her hard for the first time. He’d wanted to hold her close and let her make him feel like a man again, worthy of love. He’d wanted to fucking cry. He’d wanted to—

  “Daddy, let’s go!” Megan walked hand in hand with Barb while he straggled a few feet behind them, trying to come to terms with everything swirling in his chest.

  “Where to first?” he asked.

  “The games!” Megan squealed. “Skeeball, Whack-n-win, Dart Ballz, Dance Wars….”

  Adam groaned. “Not Dance Wars.”

  “Why not Dance Wars?” Barb asked.

  “Daddy doesn’t like to dance.” Megan rolled her eyes so hard her head almost went with them. Probably learned that from Gracie. The young bobcat shifter had the kind of attitude only a child of Surge’s could contain.

  Barb tilted her head as she eyed Adam. “Is that true? You don’t like to dance?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not my thing.”

  “Well, how much have you even tried it?”

  “Not much,” Megan piped up.

  Adam pointed a finger at her. “That’s not true. I’ve danced at a wedding or two. Including my own. Both times it was a disaster.” Barb’s expression tensed. Shit, he’d mentioned his wedding. Everyone knew his past was a sore subject, why would she be any different. “And I’ve played that game a few times just because you asked,” he told Megan, determined to power through the awkward moment. But shit, this was what he was. A fucked-up widower. Why shy away from it.

  “Yeah, but you always just move your arms a little. You don’t really try.”

  “How do you know? Maybe that is me trying.”

  Barb grinned, and the awkwardness was forgotten about. “Prove it,” she said. “We each play against Megan and you have to really try. After all, we’re battling for lunch, right?”

  Megan jumped up and down. “Yeah, daddy! Do it!”

  He really did not want to dance on that lit up neon box of doom. But just like Meg, Barb was hard to say no to when she gave him that smile. He was such a sucker.

  Shit.

  “Come on.” She reached for his hand, pulling him toward the game. “I’ll go first. Show ya how it’s done.” She turned to wink at him over her shoulder and his heart went crazy in his chest. The feel of her hand in his was strange but not unwelcome. It was small in his, softer than his. It would be nothing to wind his fingers through hers. Almost natural really.

  Barb dropped his hand, stopping in front of the machine to choose a song, and he blinked at the sudden absence. It was as if she didn’t even notice she’d done it. Touched him. The only time she’d even come close before was when he accidentally got roped into watching a movie with her and Tabatha one night and their hands brushed grabbing popcorn.

  “What song should we do, Megipoo?” she asked.

  Megi…poo? What the hell kind of nickname was that for his adorable, rotten little angel.

  “Something boppy,” Megan answered.

  “I agree. Boppy… boppy… let’s see. How about this one?”

  A hideous beat that reminded him of lollipops and jump ropes bounced from the speakers.

  “Yeah!” Megan exclaimed, her head already moving to the music.

  “All right, let’s go, girly!” Barb jumped onto one set of neon footprints and Megan stood on the others as the game counted down to start.

  Three. Two. One…

  And the battle was on.

  Adam stood back to watch, studying every move because he knew his turn was next and there was no way he was going to pull off a win. Not with the way Barb was moving. Like she’d done this a time or two. Of course she had.

  Her steps were quick, her arms above her head as if they were an extension of her body, as her hips swayed. It wasn’t in an obscene way, but he could imagine—no, he’d witnessed—the way her hips could move when she wanted them to. They could spell the word obscene by memory. They could win a fucking spelling bee. Barb loved to dance and he’d seen her enjoying herself at Red Cap many times.

  Suddenly, her and Megan both twisted to face him and he blinked, trying to appear casual.

  “Now this is how you play the game, daddy,” Megan said, giggling with Barb as they moved in time to the music.

  “See, Adam.” Barb grinned and it reached her eyes in that way that made them practically twinkle. “Why be moody when you can shake ya booty?”

  He couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. He could only hope it wasn’t as goofy as it felt. He turned away just in case, pretending to be interested in another game.

  They twisted back to the front and several moves later, the song ended. Megan jumped with glee when the machine spit out a stream of tickets that could be exchanged for prizes later.

  “That’s a lot of tickets, Nutmeg,” he said, stepping onto Barb’s vacant footprints.

  “I know, daddy! It’s because Barb is a way better dancer than you.”

  “You think so?”

  “Oh, I know so.”

  He sighed, playfully. “I’m afraid you might be right. Let’s get this over with, then.” He shook out his hands.

  “Now remember, daddy. You have to tryyyy.”

  “Yes,” Barb agreed, holding enough tickets that she needed both arms to contain them. “You’l
l have to really work to beat me at this one.”

  “That’s okay,” Adam muttered as the game counted down again. “I’ve got you beat at mini-golf. Just wait.”

  For the next two and a half minutes he tried to keep step with Megan and swing his hips the way Barb did. Okay, maybe not quite that way… but he shifted left to right a few times. But halfway through his run Megan and Barb were laughing so hard neither of them could breathe. By the time the song was over, it was clear what they thought of his fine, fine moves.

  He bent and gripped his knees, trying to catch his breath. “You think that’s funny, huh?”

  This only made them both laugh harder. And fuck, it was a beautiful sound. His baby girl and his… friend? No, that didn’t feel right. Barb was more, even if he’d been running from it for so long. And in a lot of ways, they weren’t even that. How many times had he been rude to her just to keep some kind of barrier between them?

  He had a feeling that shit was ending right here and now, whether he meant for it to or not. How could he keep resisting her when Megan loved her so much? When it could be like this.

  The machine spit out his tickets, stopping at a measly five.

  Megan ran to rip them from the dispenser but he cut her off, snatching them up himself. “Mine,” he said. “Clearly, I need all the help I can get.”

  She grinned so huge it was like looking at the sun. “I’ll share my tickets with you, daddy.”

  “Thank ya, little lady. That’s awfully kind.”

  She nodded looking so proud of herself.

  “Where to next?”

  “Skeeballll,” she screamed, running in the direction of the next game.

  Adam found Barb quietly grinning as she watched their interaction. “What?” he asked, trying to seem unaffected.

  She shook her head as they followed Megan. “I just never thought I’d see the day when Assey Adam Kennedy would let loose like that. Didn’t know you had it in ya, stud.”

  He smirked, helpless to keep a straight face. “Assey Adam has his moments. Few and far between, but they happen sometimes.”

  “Well, you know…” Her voice got quiet. Almost careful. “Maybe they can happen more often. If… if you want.”