Page 31 of Ravaged Hearts
I nodded.
“He’s talented.”
Not only with woodworking, but now probably wasn’t the time to tell Hope that after getting out of Zulu, Shep had become a hit man for the mafia. Meeting Cam and, more recently, becoming a dad had changed his career focus, but ourteam still called upon his skills when we had a big op. And they didn’t come much bigger than toppling the Pacific Coast Cartel.
“Come on. Let’s wash up before bed.” I took Hope by the hand and led her upstairs to the bedroom. Sage had helped me decorate it, but I hadn’t let her go overboard. Big bed with a blue-and-gray plaid duvet, a floor rug, wooden furniture, and a deer-antler pendant light—a smaller version of the ones in the lodge—hanging from the exposed pitched ceiling.
“Shower or tub?” I asked.
Hope, who’d been taking in every detail of my bedroom, turned toward me. “Tub sounds nice. I’m so exhausted I don’t know if I can stand long enough for a shower.”
In the en suite, I ran a hot bath and added salts. The creak of the boards told me Hope was exploring my room. She wouldn’t find much. The team had been so busy with missions that I didn’t spend a whole lot of time at home. And when I was here, I kept myself busy helping out around the ranch. Idle time was never good for someone with as much baggage as me.
“You keep your place tidy,” Hope said just as I returned to the bedroom. “And you read?” She picked up a book from the otherwise-empty nightstand, flipping it to read the back cover.
It was the biography of an NFL quarterback who’d suffered what should’ve been a career-ending injury and had gone on to be the league’s Comeback Player of the Year. I was inspired by stories of those who’d stared down the barrel of crippling adversity and saidNot today. It gave me hope that I could one day do the same. Turned out I didn’t need a book. I just needed this brave woman.
I smirked. “Don’t look so surprised.”
She chuckled. “I’d apologize for going through your stuff, but you went through mine, so…”
“Fair play, and I have nothing to hide from you.” I gestured around the room. “Snoop to your heart’s content.”
“All right, then.” She opened my closet and rolled her eyeswhen she found nothing but black clothing. “You need to diversify.”
I raised a brow. “And ruin my vibe?”
With a small smile, Hope shook her head and went to my nightstand to poke through the top drawer. Her expression turned frustrated as she pushed the contents around. “It’s full of weapons. And a”—she flipped over the small booklet—“Glock owner’s manual.”
“Not a sex toy to be found. Sorry.”
She dealt me a nasty glare.
“Search farther back.”
Hope pushed aside a multi-tool and a switchblade to pull out the only things she’d find interesting. Photographs.
She stared at one intently. “Is this your family?”
I glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah.”
It’d been taken on Christmas Eve when I was around twelve and Owen ten. We sat on a beige sofa on either side of Mom, both of us boys already almost as big as her. She wore a red-and-white snowflake sweater and smiled warmly as she embraced us. Her dark eyes—the same color as mine—shone with joy.
At the other end of the sofa sat Dad. Buzz cut, stiff green shirt, and lips tilted up, which was as much emotion as anyone could get out of the cold bastard.
The air force general was a big man. Six foot six, solid as a heavyweight boxer, and every bit the stereotypical military parent who demanded we adhere to his structure and routine. Despite my early aviation achievements, I spent my childhood trying not to be a constant disappointment to him, but gave up in my teens when I figured nothing I did would ever meet his standards.
Hope smoothed her finger and thumb over the dog-eared corner. “Your mom’s beautiful.”
I scratched the back of my head. “She is.”
“Your dad looks…”
“Like he has a stick up his ass?” I snorted. “It’s all right. You can say it. He’s kind of a big deal back home, so no one will tell him that to his face apart from Owen and me, but everyone thinks it.”
Fortunately, where Dad was frosty, Mom was the sweetest woman you’d ever meet. I had no fucking clue what she was doing with my old man, but they were still happily married to this day.
“That must be Owen.” Hope pointed to my brother. “God, apart from you being a little bigger, you two could be twins.”