Page 81 of True Confessions

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Surprised that Paris might actually be making a joke, Hope looked up at her, but by the extremely irritated expression on her face, it was very clear she wasn’t kidding.

“In the glass will be fine.” Juliette shook her head as Paris walked away. “I don’t know how anyone can stand to live here.”

“Actually, it grows on you,” Hope said and was surprised as much as Juliette by her statement.

“How long have you known Dylan?”

“Long enough.”

“It was a real shock to walk into his house today and find you in his bed.”

“It was a shock to wake up and find you in his house.”

A reluctant smile tilted the corners of Juliette’s red lips. “He must care about you.”

Hope took a drink of her milkshake. She didn’t know for certain how Dylan felt about her. Beyond telling her she was important to him, he’d never actually said. Now she might never know.

A local couple sat down in the booth behind Juliette and wanted a booster seat for their toddler. Paris brought it, and Hope was struck by how nice and chatty she was to them.

“You don’t look like the sort of woman I always pictured with Dylan,” Juliette said, drawing Hope’s attention away from the change in Paris.

“Why’s that?”

“I always knew he’d end up with a pretty woman, but I figured he’d want someone more… homespun, I guess.” Juliette tucked the brown wig hairs behind her ears, then laid her hands on the table. For the first time, Hope noticed the impressive diamond on her finger. “How much has Dylan told you about me?” she wanted to know.

“Not a lot. Just that you and he were never married and when he left, he took Adam with him,” Hope answered and figured she didn’t owe Juliette anything more.

“When Dylan left L.A., he took Adam because he is a wonderful father.” Juliette lowered her gaze to her hands. “People look at a woman differently if she gives up custody of her child, even if it is best for the child, like there is something wrong with her, like she has no heart. That’s just not true. I love my son, and I never meant to keep him a secret.”

Hope didn’t know what to say about that. She didn’t have children, would never have children, but she didn’t think she could give up custody no matter how wonderful the father.

“I’m only telling you this in case you go ahead with a story. I’m telling you so you know my side. I gave Dylan custody of Adam because Dylan is a good father and a good man. I gave him custody because I love them both.”

As Hope looked into the heavenly blue eyes of America’s favorite a

ngel, she believed her. It didn’t matter if she understood Juliette Bancroft or even liked her. She was right. Dylan was a good father and a good man.

Even before she’d fallen in love, she’d made a connection, and for the first time in a very long time, she’d shared her life and dark, painful secrets. She’d shared with Dylan because she felt safe with him. She trusted him, and he’d trusted her enough to share his life with her, too.

But only to a certain point. She hadn’t told him the truth about what she really did for a living, and he’d lied to her about the woman sitting across the table. He’d told her Adam’s mom was a waitress. He hadn’t trusted her that far. She’d lied to him, and he’d lied to her. Perhaps not the best beginning for any relationship, but they could work through it.

Dylan was being a big hypocrite about it all now, but that would shortly change. When he realized she wasn’t a gossip reporter, he’d have to apologize. She’d forgive him, but she just hoped he didn’t wait too long. She wasn’t a patient woman.

And Adam. During the short time she’d been in Gospel, she’d come to care for him, and his anger hurt almost as much as his father’s.

Chapter Fourteen

MICROPHONE DETECTS SOUND OF BREAKING HEART

The cord to Hope’s Discman bumped against the front of her gray sweatshirt as she jogged toward Main Street. Her sunglasses shaded her eyes from the morning sun, and through her earphones Jewel provided commiseration for her breaking heart. She sucked cool mountain air into her lungs as her ponytail bobbed and swayed on her head.

Dylan hadn’t called. He hadn’t called the night before, and he hadn’t called that morning. Hope wasn’t good at waiting. Not when it felt as if her whole life were at stake. She’d given him until nine-thirty that morning before she’d pulled on her jogging shorts and set out for his house.

She was in love with him, and she was certain he cared about her, too. It had taken three years and more than a thousand miles to find him. They could work through their problems because she wasn’t going to give up now, but the closer she got to his house, the more her stomach twisted into a knot. As she entered town, she wasn’t so certain showing up at his door was the wisest move, but she’d had enough of waiting around for him. She had to know for certain what he was thinking and feeling. And exactly how important she was to him.

She rounded the corner at Hansen’s Emporium and slowed. A crowd had gathered outside the Cozy Corner Cafe half a block away, and it appeared to be a film crew, photographers, and a chaotic mess of spectators.

Immediately she recognized the back of Dylan’s battered cowboy hat in the crowd. She pushed her headphones down around her neck, and the knot in her stomach tightened. The closer she got, the tighter it got.


Tags: Rachel Gibson Fiction