“Look, Hope is different. She’s not like other women. You can’t play with her.” His instinct to protect his sister is admirable.
“I don’t intend to. I’m not a player. I don’t sleep around, and not that it’s any of your business, but she’s a big girl. She can make her own decisions.” I cross my arms, waiting for whatever it is he really wants to say to me.
“Just don’t break her fucking heart. She’s had enough of that in her short life.” I nod. I can respect his desire to protect Hope, but she has me now. I’ll do the protecting from now on.
“Anything I should know about?”
“Nah, man. Everything you need to know should come from her. When she trusts you, she’ll spill.” We shake hands, and I watch as he and his friend walk away with a wave to Hope before I head back inside.
“So, what were you going to ask Luca to do?” I grin when I see she’s finished her tea and muffin. Providing for her, even in a small way, is one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever done.
Hope
I thought, for a minute, Luca was going to kick Reed out. I’m not sure how to be around so many alpha males, and I think Reed usurps them all.
Staring at Reed as I ponder how to answer his question, I’m quickly lost in his rakish looks. His hair is a mocha brown and just long enough to run my fingers through. His eyes match, appearing like melted chocolate and filled with compassion and excitement. His full lips are perpetually quirked in a sexy smile with just the hint of a dimple showing in his chin.
He’s tall, too; well over six feet and overshadows my short, five-foot three-inch frame. The way he’s watching me now has butterflies exploding in my belly that are much different than the little peanut I’m carrying.
“Hope?” I love how he says my name with a little possessive growl, like he owns it. Or maybe me? “Earth to Hope.” His husky chuckle as he waves a hand in front of my face has me shaking my head.
“Sorry. Daydreaming, I guess.” Swallowing, I try to stall and think of a response. I don’t want to lie to him, but I can’t tell him the truth either. “I was going to go shopping for a new bookshelf, and I needed Luca’s help to carry it to the car and into the house.” My chin tries to wobble from the lie, but I force a smile in its place.
“I’ll do it. We can get dinner too.” Reed doesn’t give me a chance to agree or protest before
gripping my much smaller hand in his overly large one and pulling me along behind him to the door. “We’ll take my truck in case it’s too big for your SUV.”
Snatching my purse and house keys off the pedestal table by the front door, I get the locks turned, and we’re in his truck in minutes, heading to the furniture store.
I was supposed to be shopping for the baby’s bedroom set. Crib, dresser, rocking chair, change table, now, I’m getting a bookshelf that I doubt I’ll ever use.
“Where do you want to eat?”
“Anywhere is fine.” I feel sick about lying to him. I’m not sure I’ll eat much anyway.
“St. John's Town Center okay with you? It’s got food and shopping.” I nod as he drives. I’m not much for small talk, but Reed seems to enjoy it. “Are you from Jacksonville?”
I shake my head as I answer. “Daytona Beach.”
“I’m originally from Queens. My parents are still there. We’re a very Greek family. My brother Theo is up in West Virginia. Works for some special ops team or something. I’m sure whichever of us settles down first, our parents will be moving close by.” Watching as he speaks, the smile on his lips, his relaxed nature, I can see he loves his family very much.
“Luca moved here a few years ago to start his own company. I only recently followed.” My morose tone gives away my sadness, and Reed reaches over to where I’m sitting and squeezes my thigh.
“What do you do for work?” I freeze, not anticipating that question.
“Uhm, I just graduated from college. I was an art history major.” I’ve always been fascinated with sculptures. Never good enough to create my own, I’ve always wanted to be the curator of an art gallery. My plans are on hold now.
“What is an art history major, exactly?” When he asks, I have trouble discerning his tone between sarcasm and curiosity.
“It’s boring, really.” I choose to give the bare facts. “I studied and analyzed works of art, learning the history of the pieces as well as the criteria for what makes one unique or a rip-off.”
“Do you create your own pieces of art?” The road sign for the mall is close, and I’m watching him like a hawk, trying to understand his line of questioning.
“No, I was never incredibly talented or coordinated enough to create anything worth saving. I’d like to curate for a gallery or a museum one day, though.”
“I doubt you weren’t good enough. You just didn’t have the proper encouragement. We’ll work on that.” The way he says that makes me believe he envisions some sort of future for us. Placing a hand on my belly as he backs into a parking space, I know there can’t be.
Reed is all about family. Why would he want the baby of a single mother who doesn’t even share their DNA?