Hope Against Hope: The Hope Brothers Series (13 page)

I shook off the plaguing doubts and picked up my cell phone and dialed her number, my stomach in knots.

What the hell was wrong with me? I had asked out lots of women, this wasn’t like me. My usual confidence was shredded to bits when it came to Georgie. I couldn’t let her see that, though, or she’d surely say no.

“Hello?” she answered after the third ring.

“Howdy, Georgia. It’s Beau,” I said, wiping my palms on my jeans, thankful she couldn’t see me.

“I know,” she said, laughing softly. “Caller ID.”

Her soft laughter sounded like music to my ears.

“Oh, right. How are you doing today?” I asked.

“I’m alright. How are you, Beau?” she asked.

“Fine, fine, just dandy,” I replied. I took a deep breath and dove in head first.

“Do you want to go out with me?” I blurted out.

“Go out?” she echoed.

“Yes,” I replied, feeling sick.

“You mean, like, on a date?” she asked. I couldn’t read her reaction over the phone. I cursed myself silently for not asking her in person.

“Yes, Georgia Anne Hope, will you go out on a date with me, Beau Haggard?”

Her laughter peeled through the phone and I swallowed hard.

“I would love to, Beau Haggard,” she replied curtly.

“Oh,” I replied, my eyes wide with surprise.

“Did you think I’d say no?” she asked.

“What? Oh, no, no…so Friday night?” I asked, suddenly wanting to hang up the phone, because I felt like a twelve year old.

“Sure, Beau,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, and this time I could hear her smile.

My heart soared with joy, and I reminded myself to keep my cool.

“Cool, alright then. That’s just dandy. See you then,” I said.

“Bye, Beau,” she replied, and then the phone clicked in my ear.

“She hung up,” I said to the empty truck. “She said yes!”

Hot damn
, I thought.
I have a date with Georgia.

Now, all I had to do was keep this monster in my pants under control and I’d be just fine.

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“Oh, baby, yes right there, right there, don’t stop,” I cried, reaching down and sinking my fingers into my lover’s hair as waves of pleasure washed over me. His skillful fingers pushed into me, pushing me over that blissful edge of passion just like he always did. After six months of sneaking around and finding every secret opportunity to spend time together, he had learned exactly how to please me.

I shuddered under his caress, my body exploding into hot spasming release as he rode every wave with me, slowing down, speeding up, moving harder, softer, listening to my body instinctively until I lay spent and panting under him. Slowly, he crawled up my body, planting tiny kisses along my skin that felt like electric shocks in my heightened state.

I opened my eyes at last and was greeted with Crit’s handsome grinning face.

“My turn,” he said, as he sank into me, his hardness sliding into me easily, his mouth melting against mine as we rocked together, our bodies pushing towards each other, our hands flying over each other’s skin as we tried desperately to get closer. I opened my legs and wrapped them around his thrusting hips, pulling him deeper into me.

“Oh, Ruby baby, you feel so fucking amazing,” he said, tearing his mouth away as he gasped for air, and then smashing his lips against mine again, our tongues twirling together, our bodies parting and coming together over and over in a luscious dance of passion.

When it was all over, he lay panting next to me, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body as he pulled me to him.

“That was amazing, as usual,” he whispered.

“It was,” I whispered back. “You’re amazing.”

I trailed a finger along the outline of his chest, watching as it rose and fell with every breath. I looked up at him, his strong profile so perfectly handsome that it took my breath away every time. I had been crushing on Crit since I was in junior high school, but he had never considered me anything but his kid sister’s best friend.

Until six months ago, when we ran into each other at a coffee shop, and he looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. The low cut shirt I was wearing probably helped, considering it was so low that if I bent over, my tits would have fallen out. Whatever it was, sparks flew between us and neither of us could resist it.

We got together that night, and we haven’t been able to keep our hands off of each other since then.

It was absolutely delicious and he was the best lover I had ever had.

There was only problem. He refused to tell anyone about us. In the beginning, I went along with it because he said he didn’t want to upset George, even though I didn’t really think she would care.

Now, his parents were gone and he was under so much pressure, I just couldn’t press the issue, no matter how much I wanted everyone in Sugar Hill to know that I was Crit Hope’s girl.

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

Three different outfits were spread out on my bed as I tried to get ready for my date with Beau. Luckily, all three of my brothers were gone, allowing me to avoid any explanation of why Beau Haggard was picking me up for a date on a Friday night.

Now, if I could just pick one thing to wear, and find a way to get over these nerves that were tearing through my body, I’d be just fine.

Beau had called me this afternoon to let me know that he was taking me to the nicest steakhouse in Sugar Hill. Pretty impressive for a first date, but it only made me more nervous.

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” I said aloud. I’ve known Beau Haggard my whole life, why was I so nervous now? It was like cupid had come down and struck me with his stupid arrow, and put me under some obsessive love-struck spell. It was so sudden and out of nowhere that I kept trying to find an explanation for it, but I was coming up empty.

I struggled with trying to decide between jeans or a dress, sexy or demure, casual or fancy? This was all so peculiar. I wanted to go on this date, I reminded myself. Just like I had wanted Beau to kiss me, even if I didn’t know it consciously at the time.

What I really wanted, and was most afraid of, was that Beau wouldn’t be able to see me as anything other than that little girl he watched grow up. The only way that was going to happen was if I showed him someone else.

I opted for daring and sexy, and chose a short, tight black dress that would show off all the things that Beau had probably never noticed before.

I threw on the dress, zipped it up, slipped my feet into a pair of very uncomfortable black high heels and looked at myself in the mirror. The neckline plunged threateningly low, and the clingy material hugged my curvy hips. I had curled my long black hair, and even put on a little makeup, which I hadn’t done in weeks.

In the last few years I had worn pretty much nothing but jeans and boots. I was a country girl, through and through. In fact, I hadn’t worn these shoes more than fifteen minutes at my cousin’s wedding before I took them off, running around barefoot until I got home and threw them in the closet.

So, to say that I felt just a little uncomfortable would be an understatement. For the hundredth time, I wondered why on Earth Beau had chosen to be so formal as to ask me for a date like that, and then to take me to the fanciest place in town?

I would have felt so much more comfortable if we had hopped on our horses and had a picnic somewhere. Apparently, Beau had other things in mind.

And if I was being honest, I did too. In fact, I had many other things on my mind…like his lips, that kissed so me gently it was almost criminal, leaving me yearning for more like I’d never been kissed before, or his hands, his enormous hands that made me wonder exactly how big that bulge was under those Wrangler’s he was so fond of, the very ones that stretched tightly across that amazingly tight ass that I couldn’t take my eyes off of every time he turned around.

Yeah, I had been doing a lot of thinking.

I kicked off the shoes, tossing them to the side of my bed. I walked over to my closet and pulled out my favorite dusty cowboy boots. I spent the next half hour cleaning them, opting for comfort over fashion. I knew it would be better than ending up barefoot in the steakhouse.

With one more look in the mirror, I nodded. This was as good as it gets.

I grabbed my purse and walked downstairs to the living room, passing all the old family pictures as I slowly descended the stairs. There were pictures of all of us, happy and smiling, just going on and living our lives like everything was always going to be the same.

You never think anything will change
, I thought.

I thought they’d be here forever. I thought we’d see them get old and retire and live out their days sitting on the rocking chairs they had placed on the front porch for that very reason, surrounded by a gaggle of grandchildren. None of that would happen now.

I sighed, and turned away from the pictures just as Beau knocked on the front door. I fought back tears, shaking off the sorrow as best I could, and took a deep breath before I opened the door.

The full force of his handsomeness hit me like a train wreck. The ability to breath abandoned me and as I tried to form some coherent thought, I realized that my brain had also chosen to betray me. I gave up on even attempting to speak and just moved to the side to let him in.

He was wearing a black cowboy shirt with red roses embroidered on it, black jeans and black cowboy boots. His black Stetson topped his head, and all that black only made his sky-blue eyes more prominent.

How in the hell was I going to be able to look into those things all night
, I wondered.

He took five steps and turned around to face me. I closed the door, and leaned back onto it, silently thanking it for being there to support me.

I swallowed hard and waited for him to speak. For what seemed like hours but must have been merely seconds, his eyes trailed over me, his pupils dilating as a slow grin spread across his face, only serving to make him that much more handsome.

“Georgia,” he whispered, his eyes filling with unmistakeable pleasure, “you look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” I managed to say. He closed the distance between us, lingering just in front of me. His aftershave drifted over me and I inhaled hungrily. I smiled up at him, his large frame towering over me.

“I like your dress,” he said, reaching up and pushing a lock of hair behind my ears. My stomach flipped upside down and at that moment I became convinced I would never make it through dinner without puking.