Bleeding Love (Hope Town #2)

As I watch his wide shoulders walk through my bedroom I let his words sink in. He’s right. I know it. He knows it. The only problem is, I’m not sure I know how to clear a path to the road he wants me to travel on.

He’s right. I feel guilt. Probably not for the reasons he suspects, but it’s guilt nonetheless. I had a man who gave up everything for me. Hopes, dreams, a career, and eventually his life. A man who gave up everything so that I could escape a nightmare I was living. A best friend who turned into a husband of safety and then eventually one of friendly love. I was content with that, and I know Jack was too.

The part I struggle with the most is the feelings Liam brings into my cold, painful life. They are so much more powerful than what I ever felt for the husband that saved me. The battle I feel within is that Liam, with all his annoying determination, is showing me a promise of something that I know deep down, if I were to lose it, would take me to my knees with a pain I know I could never shake free of.

That . . . that is a terrifying feeling.

But one that I know I need to be brave enough to take that step toward and that hand he’s been offering me.





I GIVE MOLLY A HUG and ignore the pain her begging me to stay causes. That little girl could shake me to my core with just one little pout.

“Stay until she comes out?” I ask Nate.

“Yup. I’ve got a date with the prettiest girl in the world.” He looks down at Molly and she smiles huge. Her brown eyes crinkle at the corner and her crooked grin shining bright. “Isn’t that right, Molly-Wolly?”

She giggles and I hate that it isn’t me she’s giving that look to. Fuck me, I’m in deep here.

“Next date’s mine, little lady,” I tell her and she nods her head, her curls bouncing around her face.

I turn and right when I make it to the door I hear her yell my name, her little voice ringing out and echoing against the walls. I turn just in time to catch her small body before it comes crashing into my legs, reaching down I pull her up and her small arms wrap around my neck.

“I’ll miss you, Leelee,” she whispers.

I hold her tight and when I look up, I see Megan standing in the hallway with her hand pressed against her chest and her eyes wide.

“I’ll miss you too, little lady, so much.”

My eyes never leave Megan’s. Her pained face the last thing I see before I drop Molly softly to her feet, ruffle her curls and turn to leave them behind. Ignoring every instinct I have to charge in there and demand Megan see what I see.

That together, if she would just grab that damn rope I’m struggling to hold on to and climb, that we—us and Molly—would have everything.

It isn’t until I pull my truck into my parent’s driveway that I realize it wasn’t just pain in her gaze right before I left her house. If I’m not mistaken . . . there was also hope.

I climb down from the cab and make my way up the walk to the front door, my thoughts running a million miles a minute. If I’m right, if that was hope, then maybe—fucking maybe—I’ve finally started to break through the wall that’s been separating us.

“Whoa, baby boy!”

Pushing my thoughts aside, I look up and smile at my mom. Her dark hair streaked with gray, her brown eyes holding strong laugh lines, but right now looking at me and seeing right through the smile I’ve plastered on my face.

“Do you need your mom or your dad right now, honey?”

I reach out, pull her into my arms and give her a tight hug. Her arms come up and hold me close.

As my hug pulls her off her feet, she laughs. “My guess is my boy needs me.” She guesses correctly.

“A little of both, Mom. Definitely a little of both.”

After I place her back down on her heels, she reaches up and pats my cheek. I look down and give her a weak smile.

“Well, come on. Let’s not let any flies in the house. Your dad is out back mowing the lawn. Let’s me and you have a chat before he comes and hogs all your attention.”

I follow her in, going straight to the kitchen and pulling one of the chairs from the table before dropping down.

“Water, coke or beer?” she asks from the open fridge door.

“Vodka?”

“Ah, I figured this chat would be coming sooner or later.”

I look at her, questions clear in my eyes because she just smiles. She doesn’t speak as she bends to the cabinet that holds the strong liquor. I watch—and wait—as she fixes my drink before rounding the island and joining me at the table.

“It’s Megan, right?”

I narrow my eyes and take a healthy pull, enjoying the way the burn feels down my throat.

“Should I ask how you know this?”

“You could, but I won’t give away my secrets. One day, when you’re in my shoes you’ll understand me when I tell you that a mother always knows.”

I shake my head and look down into the glass. Not really seeing anything except the way that Megan looked when I walked out of her door.