She lit the candles before slipping into the hot, soapy water, and took a long sip of wine. Leaning her head back, she thought the experience seemed different than it had the day before, more luxurious somehow. As she relaxed, she replayed that moment on the beach when Tru had almost kissed her. Even though she had ultimately stopped him, there’d been a dreamlike quality to all of it, and she wanted to relive it. It wasn’t just about feeling attractive again; there was something graceful and unforced about her connection with Tru, something almost peaceful. Until meeting him, she’d had no idea how much she’d been craving something exactly like that.
What she didn’t know was whether that feeling was new or had been buried in her subconscious all along, lost among her worries and frustrations and the anger she felt at Josh. All she knew for sure was that the emotional turbulence of the last few months had left her with little energy to take care of herself. Periods of peace or simple relaxation were rare these days; sadly, she realized that she wasn’t even excited about seeing her friends this weekend. Somewhere along the way, she’d lost her spark.
Spending time with Tru had awakened her to the fact that she didn’t want to be the person she’d recently become. She wanted to be the person she remembered herself to be—someone who embraced life, an enthusiast for both the ordinary and extraordinary. Not in the future, but starting now.
She shaved her legs and soaked a little while longer before the water finally began to cool. After toweling off, she reached for the lotion on the counter. She spread it over her legs and breasts and belly, relishing the silky feeling as her skin came to life.
Pulling out the new sundress, she slipped it on, along with her new sandals. She thought about putting on a bra but decided it wasn’t necessary. Feeling scandalous but not wanting to think about what it might mean for later, she didn’t reach for a pair of panties, either.
She dried and styled her hair, trying to remember exactly how Claire had done it. When she was satisfied, she started with her makeup. For eye shadow, she selected a dusting of aqua, hoping it would accent the color of her eyes. She dabbed on a bit of perfume and chose a pair of crystal drop earrings that Robin had given her for her birthday.
Afterward, she stood in front of the mirror. She adjusted the straps of her sundress and primped her hair until she was satisfied. There were times when she was somewhat critical about her appearance, but tonight, she couldn’t help but be pleased with the way she looked.
She carried what was left of her glass of wine back to the kitchen. Beyond the windows, the world continued to darken. Instead of starting the dinner preparations, she mopped up the remainder of Scottie’s mess in the entranceway and did a quick run-through of the family room, straightening up the pillows and putting the novel she’d been reading back on the shelf. She switched on some lamps in the living room, using the dimmer to get the ambiance right. She turned on the radio and adjusted the tuner until she found a station offering classic jazz. Perfect.
In the kitchen, she opened another bottle of wine but put it in the refrigerator to cool. Then, pulling out some yellow squash, zucchini, and onions, she brought them to the counter and diced them before setting them aside. The salad came next—tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, and romaine lettuce, which she’d just finished tossing in a wooden bowl when she heard a knock at the front door.
The sound kicked up butterflies in her stomach.
“Come in!” she called out as she moved to the sink. “It’s open!”
The sound of rain suddenly intensified as the door opened, then quickly receded again.
“Give me just a minute, would you?”
“Take your time,” his voice echoed in the hallway.
She rinsed and dried her hands, then retrieved the wine. As she poured it into glasses, it occurred to her that she should probably set out snacks. There wasn’t much in the cabinets, but in the refrigerator she found some kalamata olives. Good enough. She dumped a handful into a small ceramic bowl and placed it on the dining room table. Then, after turning on the light above the stove, she turned off the overhead light and picked up the glasses. She took a deep breath before heading around the corner to the family room.
He’d squatted low to show some affection to Scottie, his back to her. He was dressed in a long-sleeved blue shirt and she noted the way his jeans stretched tight around his thighs and his butt. She stopped in midstride and all she could do was stare. It was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
He must have heard her, because he finally stood and turned with an automatic smile before registering the sight of her. His eyes widened as he absorbed the way she looked, his mouth slightly ajar. He seemed immobilized, struggling and failing to find his voice.
“You’re…indescribably beautiful,” he finally whispered. “Truly.”
He was in love with her, she realized with sudden force. Despite herself, she basked in the sensation, somehow certain that the two of them had been moving toward this moment all along. More than that, she knew now that she’d wanted this to happen, because she understood that she was undeniably in love with him, too.
When Tru finally lowered his gaze, Hope moved to his side and handed him a glass of wine.
“Thank you,” he said, taking in her appearance again. “I would have worn a jacket if I’d known. And if I’d packed one.”
“You look perfect,” she said, knowing that she wouldn’t have wanted him dressed any other way. “It’s a different wine from last night. I hope it’s okay.”
“I’m not particular,” he said. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
“I haven’t started cooking yet. I wasn’t sure if you were ready to eat.”
“It’s up to you.”
“I put out some olives if you want to nibble on something.”
“All right.”
“They’re on the dining room table.”
She knew they were skirting the edge of things, but with her emotions in upheaval, it was all she could do not to spill her wine. With a deep breath, she started toward the dining area. Beyond the window, the horizon flickered as though hiding a strobe light in its depths.
She pulled out a chair and took a seat. Tru did the same, both of them facing the window. Her throat felt dry and she took a sip of wine, thinking that their actions were unconsciously mirroring each other’s. When Tru lowered his glass to the table, the fingers of both his hands remained on the stem. She knew he was as nervous as she was, which she found strangely comforting.
“I’m glad you came with me today.”
“Me too,” he said.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Where else would I be?”
The phone rang.
The receiver was on the wall, near Tru, but for a few beats, they just continued to watch each other. Only when it rang a second time did Hope turn toward the sound. Part of her was inclined to let the answering machine get it, but then she thought of her parents. Rising, she stepped past Tru and lifted the receiver.
“Hey there,” Josh said. “It’s me.”
Her stomach tightened. She had no desire to talk to him. Not with Tru here, not now.
“Hi,” she said tightly.
“I wasn’t sure I’d catch you. I thought you might be out somewhere.”
She heard him slur his words and realized he’d been drinking.
“I’m here.”
“I just came in from the pool for a few minutes. It’s pretty hot out there. How are you?”
Tru sat unmoving and silent at the table. He was so near…
Noting the way his shirt hugged his body, she sensed the muscles beneath the fabric, remembering the feel of his hand on her hip.
“I’m fine,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You?”
“I’m doing great,” he said. “I won some money last night playing blackjack.”
“Good for you.”
“How’s the cottage? Good weather at the beach?”
“It’s raining right now, and it’s supposed to last through the weekend.”
“I’ll bet Ellen’s upset, huh?”
“Yes,” Hope answered, and for an awkward moment there was silence on both ends.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. She could almost see his frown. “You seem quiet.”
“I told you I’m fine.”
“It seems like you’re still angry with me.”
“What do you think?” She fought to keep her irritation under control.
“Don’t you think you might be overreacting?”
“I’d rather not talk about it on the phone,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because this is something we should do face-to-face.”
“I don’t know why you’re acting like this,” he said.