Fire Inside

Chapter Seven One Way or Another

My cell on the nightstand clattered, waking me.

Sleepily, I reached out, looked at the display, touched it with my thumb and put it to my ear, a smile curving my lips.

“Hey,” I greeted quietly.

“How’d it go last night?” Hop asked.

He’d been worried about me.

God, God… I liked that.

“It went,” I answered.

“My mouth is between your legs.”

I blinked at the pillows. “What?”

“Fuck, you taste like honey,” he growled.

My legs shifted under the sheets.

I knew what this was. It was an excellent way to take my mind off things and I wanted it.

“Hop—”

“Touch yourself, lady,” he whispered.

Without delay, I slid my hand in my panties.

I must have made some noise because Hop was growling again in my ear. “My tongue’s right there.”

Oh God, this was good.

“No,” he stated. “I’m sucking.”

Oh God, this was good.

“Baby,” I breathed.

“Quiet, lady, and listen to me.”

I did as he said and miraculously, because usually when I did this my fingers didn’t work, I needed a toy, Hop achieved spectacular results with taking my mind off things.

After I came down, I heard silence.

“Do you want me to keep going? Give the same to you?” I offered, my voice sated, husky.

“Don’t come on my gut, babe.”

He had noted this before but, in these circumstances, I found this was interesting and surprising.

“You don’t, uh…?” I trailed off.

“I do but not with a woman.”

“Um, just pointing out, honey, I’m not with you.”

“You on the phone?”

I smiled and answered, “Yeah.”

“Then you’re with me,” he stated.

Even on the phone, I was with him.

Nice.

“I gave you that, you make it up to me Monday night,” he finished.

“I can do that,” I replied.

“I know you can,” he told me. I could hear the grin in his voice as he went on to say where he’d be with the kids for breakfast and when. “You think you can get your folks there?”

We were going to “bump into each other”, friends coincidentally on the same mountain at the same time, all so Hop could have my back without my parents knowing he was.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Do that, babe. See you in a few.”

“Okay, and… Hop?”

“Right here.”

“Uh, thanks for the orgasm.”

He didn’t hide the laughter in his voice when he replied, “Anything you need, lady, I’m there for you one way or another.”

Yes, it seemed he was.

“Thanks, honey.”

“Later, babe.”

“Bye, Hop.”

We disconnected. I looked at my phone a moment before putting it back on the nightstand. I stared at it resting there while stretching a bit and smiling a whole lot more.

Then I curved my arms around a pillow, holding it close.

Anything you need, babe, I’m there for you one way or another.

Yes.

It seemed he was.

My smile got bigger.

“Miss Lanie!”

This was screeched the moment I walked into the restaurant behind my mother but ahead of my father, who was holding the door, and it was shrieked by Molly Kincaid.

Obviously Hopper hadn’t told his kids I’d be there. I knew this because Molly was screeching and Cody was sitting on a bench at the side of the entry of the restaurant and considering me with some surprise. Hop was standing by him looking his usual amazing in faded jeans and boots. He had a black thermal henley under his cut and his hair was falling in his face.

All him, just him, no pretense.

However, he had shaved but he’d left a new patch of whiskers under his lip as he’d said he’d do.

It was a good addition.

I only had seconds to take all this in because Molly was racing to me with her usual Molly exuberance.

She skidded to a halt, her head tipped back, her long, gorgeous, wavy black hair wild and free, her gray eyes shining with little kid excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried then twisted toward her dad. “Dad, look! Miss Lanie’s here!”

“I see,” Hop murmured, moving toward us, and it crashed over me this sucked because I couldn’t touch him, kiss him, even smile at him like I wanted to smile.

Instead, I caught his eyes and greeted, “Hey, Hop.” I looked down to Molly. “How are you, sweetie?”

“Great!” she cried.

I grinned at her and looked to Cody. “Hey, Cody.”

“Yo!” he called, all mini-biker badass.

I smiled at him, my eyes slid to Hop and I thought, to hell with it.

I moved into him, wrapped my hand around the leather over his bicep and leaned in.

Brushing my lips against his cheek close to his ear, quick and low, I whispered a much different, “Hey.”

“Hey.” His return whisper was also quick, low, and rough.

I pulled back, caught his eyes, saw they were intent, warm and pleased, gave him a small smile then turned toward my parents.

“Mom, Dad, isn’t this fabulous?” I asked even though they were taking all this in, especially Hop. The blank masks on their faces didn’t quite hide their aversion to our present company. “This is a really good friend of mine, Hopper Kincaid.” I motioned to Hop. “And his kids, Molly and Cody.” I motioned to the kids.

“Hey!” Molly chirped, grinning big at Mom and Dad.

“How do you do,” Mom replied and, at her formal words uttered to an eleven-year-old, my head quickly turned to Hop whereupon I rolled my eyes before I turned back to Mom and Dad.

I did this hearing Cody’s repeated, “Yo!”

Dad’s mouth got tight before he forced it to smile at Molly then he looked to Hop.

Hop stuck out his hand. “Mr. Heron.”

“Yes,” Dad mumbled. “Good to meet you, erm… Hopper.”

Hop gripped Dad’s hand tight and let it go. “Hop.”

“I’m sorry?” Dad asked, taking a step he didn’t need to take away from Hop.

“Hop,” Hop repeated. “Friends call me Hop. Lanie’s a good friend, means her family are friends.” He smiled at Dad. “So call me Hop.”

“Right,” Dad murmured, then obviously forced out a mumbled, “Hop.”

Hopper ignored that, leaned into Mom and took her hand, saying, “Mizz Heron.”

“Well, um… of course, uh… pleased to meet you,” Mom stammered, uncomfortable and also moving back quickly after Hop released her.

We all stood there and I waited.

It didn’t happen.

This ticked me off so I did something about it.

“Just FYI,” I began. “Mom and Dad aren’t Mr. and Mrs. Heron. They’re Joellyn and Edward.”

Mom’s face was so hard I thought it would crack when she pushed her lips up into a smile. Dad jerked up his chin.

Ugh.

My eyes went back to Hop and I watched his eyelids go soft, a barely there movement but it eloquently stated he was good; he didn’t care my parents were how they were and I shouldn’t either.

So I decided not to.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands. “I know!” I looked to Hop. “Have you put your name in already?”

“Yeah, Lanie,” Hop replied, his lips twitching.

“Well, we’ll go to the hostess station and change it.” I looked to Mom and Dad. “Table for six!”

Dad’s face looked as if it had become carved in stone and Mom made a strangled noise but I just looked down at Molly.

“Would you like that?” I asked.

“Yeah!” she cried, jumping toward me, grabbing my hand and tugging me to the hostess station.

I went but turned my head as I did so, asking Cody, “What about you, kiddo?”

“Cool,” he stated nonchalantly.

I threw him a smile, went to the hostess station and changed Hop’s table request to a six top. I got the bad news a bigger table was going to take ten minutes and headed back to the crew. Mom and Dad were clearly uncomfortable, but Hop was just Hop, hot and casual. Cody was swinging his legs, oblivious to everything.

“We’re in,” I announced. “But it’ll take ten minutes or so.”

“Bummer, I’m starved,” Cody muttered.

“You’ll live,” Hop rumbled, looking down at his son and smiling.

“I’ll do it starving,” Cody returned.

“But you’ll do it,” Hop retorted.

I grinned at them.

“So, how do you know our daughter?” Dad asked a question he was being purposefully obtuse in asking because he knew the answer and Hop’s eyes went to him.

“She’s Chaos,” he answered, and that warmth gathered around my heart again.

“I’m sorry?” Dad queried.

“Chaos. She’s Chaos. Her girl, Tyra, is married to a brother of mine,” Hop explained. “Known Tyra years, known Lanie years. Both of them are Chaos.”

“Right. Of course,” Dad said, sounding like he didn’t think it was right at all. “I had heard that Tyra had…” He trailed off then to me, “I haven’t asked yet. How are Tyra and her boys?”

He pointedly did not ask after Tack.

I ignored this. “She’s great. Over the moon happy. Tack’s good, too. The boys are good kids even though they’re hooligans.”

“They aren’t hooligans,” Cody contradicted and I looked down at him. “They’re awesome.” He looked at my dad. “They’re younger than me but I hang with them because they got good ideas.” He lifted his hand and tapped his fingertips to his head. “Genius.”

“Genius at getting in trouble,” I put in and Cody looked at me.

“Mister Tack doesn’t mind.”

“Miss Tyra does,” Hop stated and his son looked up to him.

“Girls do that, not likin’ the way boys act,” Cody retorted.

“They do that when boys act like idiots,” Hop returned.

Apparently Cody couldn’t argue with this because he shut up.

I started laughing.

Molly leaned into me and she laughed too.

I slid my arm around her and pulled her closer. Hop trained eyes to his daughter then to me and the warmth in them, the soft around his mouth, made the snug feeling around my heart gather closer.

“What are you doin’ today, Miss Lanie?” Molly asked and I looked down at her.

“Don’t know yet, honey. My parents are here from Connecticut so just visiting, I guess,” I answered.

“You can’t just visit in Vail!” she objected and looked from Dad to Mom. “You should hang with us. We got all sorts of fun things planned.”

I decided in that moment I loved Molly Kincaid.

“I don’t think—” Dad started but I was faster than him and jumped at Molly’s innocent offer.

“What a fantastic idea!” I cried and looked to Mom and Dad. “Isn’t that a fantastic idea?”

“Darling, we don’t even know their plans,” Mom noted logically but slightly desperately.

We didn’t but I knew whatever it was would be a lot more fun than visiting with Mom and Dad.

“Kids make everything fun,” I declared.

“Can’t argue with that,” Hop put in, then looked between the elder Herons. “You’d be welcome and my kids would love it. They think the world of your daughter.”

That was well played, an out and out invitation no one could politely refuse coupled with a compliment to their daughter that was clearly genuine, making it additionally impossible to refuse.

It was so well played, it took a mammoth amount of effort not to smile huge at Hop or, say, throw my arms around him and kiss him hard. Instead, I just caught his eyes and hoped he read what was in mine.

He did and I knew it when his eyes flashed and a wave of goodness surged from him and crashed into me.

Hop’s remark was met with silence. Through the wave of goodness I noted this and I looked to my mom and dad.

Mom rallied first, too Southern not to.

“We’d be delighted, of course. Any friends of Lanie’s and obviously, children do make everything fun.”

She apparently decided to ignore all the things she didn’t like about Hop and smiled with real warmth at his kids.

“Awesome!” Molly cried, jumping away from my arm but grabbing my hand again.

“Sucks there’s no snow,” Cody declared. “But there’s like, a gazillion candy shops in the village and Dad says we can hit them all.”

Molly let my hand go to lift both of hers in the air and yell, “Sugar high!”

“Right on,” Cody mumbled, grinning up at his sister.

I grinned at him then I turned to find Hop grinning at me.

All good. It was all good.

Because Hop made it that way.

And, well, Molly, but Molly was Hop’s so I decided to give him the credit.

“Kincaid? Party of six?” We all turned to the hostess and she smiled. “We had a table open up early.”

“Well, isn’t this an all-around lucky day?” I declared, curving an arm around Molly and turning us both to the hostess.

No one answered. I didn’t care.

It was a lucky day and I was hanging onto that.

The hostess took us to the table.

Hop smoothly engineered a seating situation where he sat by me, which meant he could press his thigh against mine and steal touches to my leg and, outwardly casually but anything but, hook his arm around the back of my chair when we were talking and not eating.

Dad didn’t miss it and wasn’t happy about it, casual or not.

Mom pretended to ignore it.

Molly and Cody didn’t catch any meaning to it.

I loved it.

“Will they be okay for fifteen minutes?”

I whispered this in Hop’s ear.

It was late August. There was no snow but the golden leaves of the aspens seemed to glitter in the sun, and the mountain air was a shade nippy. Waning summer was on the mountain, which meant daytrippers and weekenders were abundant, and someone had organized kids’ games on the base of a slope.

Therefore, Molly and Cody were currently engaged in a three-legged race with a gaggle of other kids. My guess was they’d win seeing as Hop had given them what he promised, and they were both currently burning through the sugar high to end all sugar highs.

Mom and Dad had murmured that they needed a sit-down with a cup of coffee so they were in a coffee shop down the main drag of Lionshead Village.

This meant Hop and I were alone.

He turned his head and looked at me with warm curiosity. “You good?”

“I will be,” I told him. His head cocked in question and I moved, walking away from the slope to the side of a building where there were public restrooms.

One of them was a single for handicapped people.

I had to admit, I felt some guilt about occupying a handicap bathroom as I walked to it, but when I looked back at Hop, I liked the curiosity I saw in his features.

But the need was on me.

I slid through, holding the door open for him.

He slid in behind me.

I let the door close and locked it.

“Lady, what the fuck?” he asked and I turned to him.

Then I walked right to him, pressing my chest against his and cupping his crotch in my hand.

His head instantly bent to mine, his hand driving into the back of my hair and fisting as he growled unintelligibly against my mouth.

Then he asked, his voice rough, “You seriously down with this?”

“Absolutely,” I whispered. “Hurry.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, slanted his head and kissed me, backing me up until I hit wall.

That was all I needed. Hop’s mouth. Hop’s body.

Hop.

I was ready.

Then again, I was ready before I walked in just knowing Hop was following me.

His hand in my hair, his other one tugged forcefully at my belt buckle, undoing it, then the button of my jeans, then the zip went down and his hand went in.

God, that felt good.

I moaned into his mouth.

“Get these off,” he ordered. “Now.”

Heretofore unknown illicit excitement bolting through me, I moved immediately to do what I was told. It wasn’t easy because Hop didn’t move, his chest pressing into mine, which pressed me into the wall. His hand went to the back of his jeans to get his wallet.

I yanked down my jeans as best I could then shifted my legs to tug them off over my boots, kicking them aside, repeat with my panties.

Hop was free, hard and gloved by the time I did this and he growled, “Hop up.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hopped up.

He caught me at my ass, pressed me into the wall. My legs curved around his hips and he thrust in, hard and deep.

I shoved my face in his neck, held on tight with arms and legs and whimpered.

“Fuck me, goddamn hot,” he grunted into my neck, pounding between my legs.

“Harder, baby,” I urged breathlessly.

He thrust harder.

“Tip for me, Lanie,” he rumbled into my neck and I tipped my hips toward him. He drove deeper and my breath hitched loudly.

“Love that,” I panted.

“Me too, honey.”

“Love it, Hop,” I gasped, suddenly close and it was going to be mammoth.

“Hold on, lady.”

I held on harder than I already was holding, and he moved a hand from my ass to the back of my head half a second before I came, my head shooting back, slamming his hand into the wall.

“Look at me,” he ordered roughly.

I trembled in his arms, holding tight, unable to do anything but feel the beauty of the high.

His hand fisted in my hair. “Lanie, fuckin’ look at me.”

With effort, I struggled through the haze, dipped my chin and looked at him.

He kept pounding, stopped, ground in, and I whimpered.

“All soft, every inch. Got my dick buried in beauty,” he grunted.

I loved that too.

A lot.

I put my lips to his. “Keep fucking me, honey.”

He began thrusting again, harder, faster, pounding me into the wall.

“Yes, beauty,” I breathed. His hand twisted in my hair, crushed my mouth down on his, and he groaned his orgasm down my throat.

I took it in. Happily.

Coming down from his climax, he started kissing me then broke the kiss to slide his lips and mustache down my cheek to my neck where his mouth stopped to work.

I pressed my lips to his neck, took a taste then moved them to his ear.

Closing my eyes tight, smelling him, feeling him holding me, filling me, I knew it was time.

He’d given so much, I could no longer stop myself from giving back.

“I’m thinking I like my shield,” I whispered and his body went solid in my limbs.

But I wasn’t done.

“Thank you, Hopper Kincaid. Suitcases. Sandwiches. Chinese. God’s country. Sweet kids. I didn’t go to sleep last night buried under emotional exhaustion. I went to sleep looking forward to seeing you. That’s a miracle, honey, and you have to know I appreciate you making that miracle happen for me.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak; his mouth stayed at my neck but it didn’t glide, taste, lick. His cock stayed planted but his hips didn’t so much as twitch.

I didn’t know what to do with that. I thought he’d like what I said and his inactivity didn’t say he didn’t but it also didn’t say he did.

I shifted my head, trying to pull back but his hand pressed forward, keeping me where I was.

“Hop?” I called uncertainly.

“I’m in there,” he murmured into my neck.

Yes. Oh yes.

He was in there.

I sighed, moved so my nose tweaked his earlobe and gave him more.

“Uh… yeah. Presently in more ways than one.”

His head went back, he let mine up and he caught my eyes.

I caught my breath at what I saw in his.

“Then don’t thank me, lady. You give me that, it was all worth it.” My teeth came out to graze my lip, his eyes dropped to them and stayed there as he ordered. “Kiss me hard while I’m still inside you then we gotta get back to the kids.”

“Okay, honey,” I agreed, pressed my lips to his, kissed him hard as he pushed me into the wall and ground his hips into mine, which made me give a soft whimper against his tongue before he ended the kiss, eased me back, eased out of me, and eased me to my feet.

I held on as my trembling legs recovered.

So did Hop.

“Steady?” he asked. My eyes caught his and I nodded.

I was.

Steady.

Maybe.

Finally.

I pulled in breath. He bent in to kiss my temple then he slowly let me go.

I went to my panties and jeans.

Hop went to the toilet.

I was leaning against the wall and, with no small amount of difficulty, tugging my jeans over my boots when Hop crouched at my feet, his hands out to help me.

My jeans successfully pulled over my boots, I straightened. He did too and slid an arm loose around my waist as I tugged them up, zipped, buttoned, and belted them.

“Um… not big on putting these back on after they’ve been on the floor of a public bathroom,” I murmured, giving my panties in my fingers a little twirl. “And I don’t have a purse.”

Hop’s eyes got dark but he said not a word, grabbed my panties and shoved them in his front pocket.

Knowing my panties were in Hop’s jeans pocket, my thighs quivered.

“Just so you know,” I started, feeling suddenly nervous, “I’ve never had public handicapped bathroom sex before.”

“Just so you know,” Hop returned, grinning, “I haven’t either.”

“Uh… okay,” I muttered, finding it difficult to hold his smiling eyes and wanting to look at his shoulder. Instead, I lifted my hands to rest them there.

“Stall sex with a skank, yeah,” he went on and my head jerked. “Twice,” he continued and I felt my lips part. “Though, a private handicapped restroom is definitely the way to go with a lady. I’d never do you in a stall.”

He was teasing so I relaxed.

Slightly.

“I don’t think I could do a stall,” I shared.

“Like I said, wouldn’t do you in a stall.”

My lips curved up. “It’s good we agree on that.”

“Yeah,” he replied and tipped his head to the side, asking quietly, “You good?”

I did a mental assessment.

I was.

Shockingly, I not only was good. I was very good, and in more ways than one.

“Yeah,” I answered. It was his turn for his lips to curve up, and then they came to mine for a touch.

When he finished with that, he led me to the door while I asked, “So, is that true? Twice?”

“Yeah, it’s true.”

Wow.

“Bikers don’t have boundaries,” he imparted, unlocking the door, but he didn’t open it so I looked up to him. “Pleased as fuck to learn my woman doesn’t either, babe. I think you clued in when I started fuckin’ you against a wall about a minute after you got me in here that I thought that was hot, but just in case you missed any of that… that was hot.”

I stared into his eyes.

Hop stared into mine, not done. “You keep getting better and better.”

He did too.

“Well, good to know,” I started softly, “that I’m returning the favor.”

His face went dark, his eyes went hot and he growled, “Fuck, don’t do that shit.”

“What shit?” I asked, perplexed at his expression and tone.

“Did you against a wall in a bathroom and you bein’ sweet makes me want it again.”

“I think the kids and my parents will wonder where we are.”

“That’s why you can’t do that shit.”

“Okay, I’ll stop being sweet.” I gave in.

“Be obliged.”

I grinned.

Hop looked at my mouth.

I swayed into him.

Hop looked into my eyes.

“You go out first, lady. I’ll follow in a few.”

I nodded.

He dipped his head and gave me another lip touch.

When he lifted his head, I got on my toes and gave it back.

He gave me a squeeze.

Then he let me go and I went out first.

He followed in a few.

Thankfully, the kids were engaged in a sack race by the time we returned so they had no clue we’d been gone, and my parents didn’t rejoin us until fifteen minutes after we got back.

As for me, I stood in the Colorado sun at the base of a magnificent mountain in the heart of God’s country feeling good. Feeling steady. Feeling fabulous.

Finally.

“I’m going out to take a walk,” I called from the door of the spacious, well-appointed, six-bedroom “condo” owned by my parents’ friends. It was currently occupied by me at the door in my coat, Dad in front of the TV, and Mom already in bed with her crutch even though it was only eight-thirty. “The night feels great. I’ll probably be a while.”

“Lanie!” Dad called back and his voice was closer than I expected it to be.

He was coming my way.

“Later!” I cried, slipped out, closed the door and hustled my booty on its way toward the village.

I pulled my cell from my pocket, found the text Hopper sent me and scrolled through it. Then I followed his directions out of the posh area where I was staying with my parents, through the village, and into the denser area of attractive condos where Hop and the kids were staying.

I found his, walked up the open flight of steps at the side and knocked on the door.

Seconds later, it was thrown open.

Molly looked up at me then turned to shout into the condo, “Finally! Miss Lanie’s here! Now we can play Pictionary!”

She raced into the condo, leaving the door open and me outside.

“We aren’t playing Pictionary!” I heard Cody yell.

“We so are!” Molly yelled back.

“We aren’t. It’s gay!” Cody shouted.

“Games can’t be gay, boy. People are gay, games aren’t, and it isn’t a bad thing to be.” I heard Hop’s rumble but it was coming my way so I stepped in and closed the door.

“Dad!” Cody cried.

“Shut it,” Hop warned then appeared in the entryway.

I pulled off my jacket.

Hop’s head, looking back into the condo, turned to me.

My heart warmed and my lips smiled.

His eyes dropped to my mouth and his teeth caught his lower lip.

I’d never seen him do that. It was a good look so my legs trembled but I managed to stay standing as Hop made it to me.

“I’m getting Pictionary,” Molly yelled as Hop rounded me and took my jacket but did it close.

His lips came to my ear. “Wish I could kiss you.”

I wished that too.

I twisted my neck and caught his eyes.

At the look in his, my legs nearly buckled.

“We should play Wii. They have a Wii, we should play it.” I heard Cody declare.

“We have a Wii at home, Cody,” Molly told him.

“So?” Cody asked.

“Though, this shit is killin’ the mood,” Hop muttered, and I grinned as I moved into their condo.

It was spacious too but warmly, not architecturally.

“Hey, Cody,” I called.

“You like Wii?” he called back.

“You wanna say hello?” Hop suggested from behind me in a way that was not entirely a suggestion.

“Yo, Miss Lanie,” Cody mumbled, wisely taking up his dad’s thinly veiled order.

I smiled at him.

Molly materialized at my side. “Do you like Pictionary?”

I looked down at her. “I do, but we can’t play.”

Her face fell. “Why not?”

“Because it’s a moral imperative to play boys against girls and we’d whup their butts. I’m sort of creative, do it for a living. This means I never lose at Pictionary,” I announced.

“Dad and me’ll kill you,” Cody declared.

I looked at him and threw out the challenge, “Impossible.”

He hurled himself over the back of the couch, racing away, shouting, “I’m getting Pictionary!”

My work done, I moved to the couch and sat down.

Already this was better than TV with Dad.

“Nice work, lady.”

This was murmured in my ear by Hop. I turned my neck. He was behind the couch but bent toward me. I caught Hop’s smile and gave him one back.

He straightened and moved away while Cody raced back with the game and got on his knees beside the coffee table. Molly moved in to help him set up.

I took in a deep breath and let it out right before I felt cold on my arm. I looked down, saw a bottle of beer pressed there, and lifted a hand to take it even as I tipped my head back to smile my gratitude at Hop.

He smiled his acceptance.

Definitely better than TV with Dad.

Pads and pencils disbursed, timer at the ready, we settled in and I played Pictionary with badass biker Hopper Kincaid and his two kids.

The best.

The best I’d ever had.

And, incidentally, Molly and I whupped their butts.

Three times.

Hop and I were standing outside his condo door making out, me in my jacket, him in his thermal henley.

This was lasting awhile and I was going with it, hoping Hop knew the drill inside where his kids were getting ready for bed, so he’d know how much time we had to enjoy what we were doing.

I was also going with it because we’d never just made out, it leading nowhere but to the goodness of taste and touch, bodies pressed together in the cold.

It was fabulous.

Eventually and regrettably, he broke the connection of our mouths but not our embrace.

“Gotta make sure they’re good,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” I muttered back.

“Also gotta let you know, before you got here, got a call from an old buddy of mine. He’s gonna be close. In Denver for the first time in a while. I don’t wanna miss seein’ him. We were tight back in the day. It’ll be good seein’ him but my only shot is Monday night.”

This was a disappointment but still I said, “Okay.”

“Want you to come with me.”

I held his eyes in the outside lights.

I’d made a decision. It wasn’t conscious, it was intuitive. Going with my gut, leading with my heart, I was moving forward not thinking about the consequences.

I’d let Hop in.

That day, I’d eaten breakfast, spent the day and played Pictionary with his kids.

Was I ready to meet an old buddy?

“I’d like that,” I stated before my brain could catch up and do something other than go with my gut and lead with my heart.

“Good,” he replied on a grin, then his arms tightened and his grin faded. “Check in in the morning. Wanna take your pulse.”

Afraid for a long time where my gut and heart might lead, I hadn’t listened to them for years. It was good to know, from Hop’s concern, I could trust them again.

“I’ll call.”

“Do that,” he murmured.

I grinned.

He touched his mouth to mine.

When he lifted his head, I whispered, “I better let you go.”

“Don’t ever do that.”

His words flowed through me in a way I couldn’t help but press close, angle my head and push my face in his neck.

“Are you real?” I asked his skin.

“Baby, you’re standing in my arms,” he answered.

“Please be real,” I whispered.

“Feel this.” He gave me a squeeze. “I’m real, Lanie.”

I drew in breath, drawing him in, then I pulled back and looked at him.

“Okay, then I won’t let you go but I will say good night.”

“That, I’ll accept,” he replied, his lips curving up.

I moved in to touch mine to his. He let me then shifted to kiss my forehead.

He let me go and I moved to the stairs. Hand on the railing, I looked back to where Hop stood in the doorway.

Hop was watching me and, for my troubles, he gave me a grin and a chin lift.

I returned the grin and raised it with a wave.

His grin turned into a smile.

I let his smile feed me as I skipped down the last few stairs and headed to the village.

It was late and, I hoped, late enough my mom would be passed out so my dad would have joined her.

I felt guilt that I’d left them to play Pictionary with Hop and his kids. But Mom was down for the night and Dad wasn’t a brilliant conversationalist, preferring to stare at a television set and let the screen mute the guilt he should feel at what his deception and disloyalty had manifested upstairs in his bed.

He didn’t need me around for that.

I slid inside the door to our condo, closing it quietly, feeling the house at rest and letting the tension that had grown during my walk ebb, knowing that I’d timed things right. I could just go to bed, look forward to checking in with Hop tomorrow and endure the best part of my parents’ visit. The end of it.

Hand on the banister and foot lifted to walk up the stairs to my room, I stilled when my Dad’s voice hit me.

“I know what he is to you.”

I turned at the foot of the stairs to see him standing there, his fingers curled around a cut crystal glass of Scotch. He rarely drank. He let Mom do the drinking. His addiction was betrayal and he indulged in that liberally.

“Hey, Dad,” I said quietly, my mind reeling to find the right way to play this.

“You think you two are being clever but you didn’t hide it. Maybe your mother missed it and his kids are too young to understand, but I didn’t miss it,” Dad declared and I looked at him.

He was angry.

But I was thirty-nine and I didn’t need my father’s approval in regards to who I spent time with.

So I straightened my shoulders and declared, “Hop and I have known each other for a long time. Recently, we got together. His kids don’t know yet.”

He shook his head and took two steps toward me before he stopped and asked, “Lanie? Seriously?”

“Seriously what?” I asked back.

“Seriously, you didn’t learn a lesson that it was impossible to miss when your last choice got you in Critical Care for six days?”

That was a blow he meant to land viciously, and he succeeded brilliantly.

“Dad—”

“And this one, this… this… man is worse. By far. My God, when was the last time he cut his hair?”

“I’m not sure when Hop does or does not cut his hair is the measure of a man, Dad,” I replied.

“You would be very wrong, Lanie, and I’ll point out again, not for the first time,” Dad shot back.

Blow two. Direct hit.

“You don’t know him,” I returned.

“I don’t need to know him. One look at him and I know the kind of man he is.”

God, I hated that from anyone, but especially my father.

“Sorry, but unless you have clairvoyance, something like that is impossible,” I bit out.

“I don’t need clairvoyance when I have age and wisdom, Elaine Heron. The first of those are creeping up on you without you seeming to realize it, your life wasting away, and the second seems to have escaped you.”

“I’ve known Hopper for eight years and you’ve known him less than a day and you think you can stand there and tell me you know him better than me?” I asked.

“We can start with that. What kind of name is Hopper for what kind of man?”

I had to admit, unlike all the other guys, Hop didn’t have a nickname that the brothers used almost exclusively to refer to him and I’d always been curious about that. One of the many inconsequential (but I found fascinating) facts I’d learned about Hop before I was with him was that his name actually was Hopper Kincaid. Seeing as he already had a name that fit, the boys didn’t bother giving him another one.

And I liked it.

But I wondered at it.

“I don’t know,” I answered Dad. “The name his parents gave him?”

“That’s ridiculous,” he bit out.

“I like his name,” I returned sharply. “I like pretty much everything about him.”

Dad took two more steps toward me, stopped again and hissed, “Lanie, wake up. Do it now before you waste your life. No children, no decent man to look after you, no future. Before you’re dragged into yet another world that is not good for you in any way, by a weak man who takes the easy path of life, and you find yourself paying for his choices.”

His words, each one…

No.

Each syllable slammed into me, breaking something I was holding together by a miracle.

And when it broke, there was no way to hold back what it was keeping at bay.

So I let it rip.

“Would that Papaw took the time before he died to warn Mom of that very thing,” I clipped and Dad’s head jerked. “You gave her children but you took away everything else, being a weak man who chose his own selfish needs over his family. You cannot stand there and say Hop is not decent, at the same time sinking in the mud you stepped in your own damned self. All that while Mom’s passed out cold upstairs, losing herself in a bottle because she can’t cope with the fact she lost her husband three decades ago. But he didn’t have the courage to cut ties and walk away so he tortures her with his selfishness every single day.”

His face turned to stone before he made an attempt to do something he couldn’t do. That was, putting the lid back on his boiling over pot of deceptions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you,” I leaned toward him, “fucking do.”

“Remember who you’re speaking to and who you are, Elaine. That language—”

“Go fuck yourself, Dad,” I snapped and his head jerked again.

“I cannot believe you would dare—”

I took a step toward him and hissed, “Believe it!” I leaned back and threw out both my hands. “You know, when you go to her, you don’t just fuck over Mom. You fuck over Lis and me. Every time. Every time you go to her, it says, straight up, you do not give one single,” I leaned into him again, “shit about any of us.”

“This, this right here is the effect of spending time with that Tyra friend of yours and the kind of people her husband and your friend Hopper are.”

“Yes,” I agreed, nodding my head. “Yes, Dad. This right here is the effect of being around people who are loyal, decent, and honest. This right here is the effect of being around people who do not let other people mess with their heads or screw them over. This right here is the effect of exactly that. And, in about five seconds, there’ll be another effect. The effect of me walking upstairs and packing my bag. After that, the effect will be me walking out of here. After that, the effect will be you having to explain to Mom tomorrow where I’ve gone. And after that will be the effect of me explaining to Mom that I’ll speak to her if she doesn’t call me drunk off her ass but I am never again speaking to you.”

“You play that game, just like your sister, you’ll be cut off,” he warned.

“Newsflash, Dad. Just like Elissa, I wanted a father who was loyal and true to my mother and, if he couldn’t be that, he could at least let her go so she could find happiness in herself or someone else. Money and cars and houses, nothing holds a candle to that, so you can’t buy my love and loyalty and you can’t hurt me by taking things away I never wanted in the first place.”

“You say that now but—”

“Save it,” I bit off, lifting my hand and throwing it out at the same time turning on my boot and stomping to the stairs.

“Lanie, you leave, you do this, your mother will be devastated,” he called to my back. Four steps up, I turned back to him.

“You’re right. She will. And that sucks. But you know what? She’s lived with devastation a really long time. She knows the drill.”

On that, I turned again and stomped up the steps.

I yanked out my suitcase while pressing buttons on my phone.

“Lady,” Hop greeted after one ring.

“I… uh, Hop…” I trailed off mostly because my throat closed and I couldn’t force words out of my mouth.

He heard it, sensed it by Hop Magic or both.

I knew this when he ordered low, “Talk to me.”

I forced down a swallow and tossed my suitcase on the bed. “There was a, um… some unpleasantness… when I got back. Actually I would say it was more like… extreme unpleasantness.”

He didn’t ask.

He didn’t hesitate.

He just clipped out, “Pack. Text your address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

My body stopped dead and my eyes closed tight.

“Lanie? You hear me?” Hop called.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His voice was gentle when he replied, “Pack, baby.”

“Okay.”

“Text me first. I want to be waiting at the door when you’re done.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, lady.”

“Bye, Hop.”

We disconnected and I moved, flying through the room, packing with haste.

I was nearly finished when Dad appeared in my doorway.

“Don’t say another word,” I warned, not looking at him.

He didn’t heed my warning.

“Please understand. I started that downstairs because I’m worried about you, Lanie. Your mother and I are both worried. Very worried, and we have been for years. You’ve been alone for a long time and a beautiful girl like you, a girl with your heart… honey, that’s just not natural.”

I made no reply, just kept packing.

“I love her,” he whispered, and pain seared through me.

“Not another word, Dad.”

“I love both of them.”

Oh God!

I stopped and whirled on him. “Not another word, Dad.”

“Can you imagine, living years, loving two women, knowing what you’re doing to both of them?”

“No, I can’t and I don’t want to and furthermore, what is the matter with you that you’d even ask me that shit? I’m your daughter.”

He winced.

I went back to packing.

“I love you too, Lanie,” he said quietly as I zipped up my case.

I yanked it off the bed, stomped to him and stopped.

“Then prove it. Pick one or the other. If it’s Mom, get her in a program. But do something, Dad, because this is going to end in tragedy one way or another. You’ve had a good run but you lost one daughter to this, and you’re losing another right now. Two tragedies. Don’t court more.”

With that, I shoved by him, hauling my case with me. I struggled down the stairs (it did weigh half a ton) grabbed my purse off the side table by the front door and took off through it.

Hop in his shiny, black, twin-cab Dodge Ram was idling outside my parents’ condo.

He leaned across the cab and pushed open the door the minute he saw me, the interior light coming on.

With a heave, I failed to toss my bag in the truck bed. On the second heave, it was caught in Hop’s hands, pulled from mine and tossed over like it weighed as much as a pillow. Without hesitation, I turned to the car door and, with another heave, I hauled my body into the passenger seat.

Seconds later, Hop hauled his in on the driver’s side.

“Babe—”

“Go,” I whispered to the seatbelt I was wrapping around me.

“Lanie—”

I twisted to him and cried, “Go, go, go!”

Eyes glued to me, he put the truck in gear. He only looked to the road when we were moving.

“You gonna talk to me?” he asked.

“No.”

“Didn’t like leavin’ the kids, babe. Gotta take you back there.”

“Okay.”

“You sleep with me. We’ll get up early.”

“Okay.”

“Lanie—”

“Please,” I whispered and got silence.

We were closing in on his condo when he broke it.

“Your eyes are haunted, honey. This is more than your mom bein’ an alcoholic and your family livin’ in denial and that’s already fuckin’ bad enough.”

“Yes.”

More silence while he waited for me to share.

I didn’t.

Hop didn’t push. He parked, came around to my side, hauled my suitcase out of the back and grabbed my hand. His condo was quiet when we got in. I hadn’t been gone long but clearly his kids had crashed after an active day.

And clearly Hop read my mood because he took me and my bag straight to his room and ordered, “Get ready for bed. I’m closin’ down and lockin’ up. Be back.”

I nodded, did as ordered and wandered from the master bathroom into his room while he was pulling off his tee.

I went directly to the bed.

Hop went to the bathroom and met me in bed after he turned off the lights.

He didn’t turn me into his arms.

I burrowed there.

“Thank God you came up here. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God,” I chanted quietly into his chest.

He gathered my hair away and I felt his lips at the top of my head where he whispered, “Lanie, talk to me.”

I shook my head.

“Later?” he asked.

“Later,” I answered, relieved I didn’t have to get into it then. I didn’t have it in me.

“Promise?” he asked.

“I promise,” I answered.

His hands left my hair and he closed his arms around me.

I let his warmth and strength seep into me, feeling the tension and pain dull. It did not go away but I’d take it dulling for now.

“It’s his.”

Hop said this into the dark.

“What?” I asked.

“Knew it the minute I saw the arrogant, stick-up-his-ass fucker.”

I lifted my head and looked at him in the dark. “What, honey?”

“That monster in you. It might have fed on other shit along the way, got strong and took control, but it was your father who planted the egg that hatched.”

I dropped my face to his chest. This was my way of answering in the affirmative.

He cupped his hand to the back of my head.

“Enough. I’m done. You sleep,” he ordered.

“Okay.”

His hand sifted through my hair.

I turned my cheek to his chest and held onto his warm, strong body.

His fingers kept sifting through my hair.

My body had melted into his, my eyes drooping, I was close to sleep when I whispered, “Please be real.”

His hand in my hair stilled, curled around my head and Hop whispered back, “Lady, I’m as real as it gets.”

I burrowed closer and fell asleep hoping he was telling the truth.

No.