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Reluctant Hope

Acclaim for Erin Dutton’s Work

“Designed for Love is…rich in love, romance, and sex. Dutton gives

her readers a roller coaster ride filled with sexual thrills and chills.

Designed for Love is the perfect book to curl up with on a cold

winter’s day.” —Just About Write

“Sequestered Hearts is packed with raw emotion, but filled with

tender moments too. The author writes with sophistication that one

would expect from a veteran author. …A romance is about more

than just plot and character development. It’s about passion, physical

intimacy, and connection between the characters. The reader should

have a visceral reaction to what is going on within the pages for the

novel to succeed. Dutton’s words match perfectly with the emotion

she has created. Sequestered Hearts is one book that cannot be

overlooked. It is romance at its finest . ” —L-word Literature.com

“Sequestered Hearts by first time novelist, Erin Dutton, is everything

a romance should be. It is teeming with longing, heartbreak, and of

course, love. …as pure romances go, it is one of the best in print

today.”— Just About Write

In Fully Involved “…Dutton’s studied evocation of the macho world

of firefighting gives the story extra oomph—and happily ever after

is what a good romance is all about, right?”— Q Syndicate

With Point of Ignition “…Erin Dutton has given her fans another fast

paced story of fire, with both buildings and emotions burning hotly.

…Dutton has done an excellent job of portraying two women who

are each fighting for their own dignity and learning to trust again.

The delicate tug of war between the characters is well done as is the

dichotomy of boredom and drama faced daily by the firefighters.

Point of Ignition is a story told well that will touch its readers.”

— Just About Write

Visit us at www.boldstrokesbooks.com

By the Author

Sequestered Hearts

Fully Involved

A Place to Rest

Designed for Love

Point of Ignition

A Perfect Match

Reluctant Hope

Reluctant Hope

by

Erin Dutton

2011

Reluctant Hope

© 2011 By Erin Dutton. All rights rEsErvED.

isBn 13: 978-1-60282-523-9

This ElEcTronic Book is PuBlishEd By

Bold sTrokEs Books, inc.

P.o. Box 249

VallEy Falls, ny 12185

FirsT EdiTion: JunE 2011

This is a Work oF FicTion. naMEs, characTErs, PlacEs, and

incidEnTs arE ThE ProducT oF ThE auThor’s iMaGinaTion or

arE usEd FicTiTiously. any rEsEMBlancE To acTual PErsons,

liVinG or dEad, BusinEss EsTaBlishMEnTs, EVEnTs, or localEs

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This Book, or ParTs ThErEoF, May noT BE rEProducEd in any

ForM WiThouT PErMission.

CrEDits

EdiTor: shEllEy ThrashEr

ProducTion dEsiGn: susan raMundo

coVEr dEsiGn By shEri (GraPhicarTisT2020@hoTMail.coM)

Acknowledgments

During the process of bringing these characters to the page, I was

reminded that though they may be fictional, their stories could be

very real. Every day, many people face the same challenges as these

two women. I am inspired by their strength and grace, and that of

the families and friends who walk through this disease with them.

Cancer touches most of us in one way or another. So I decided I

wanted the effects of this story to carry through my life off the page

as well. In looking for a way to do that, I found many organizations

that contribute to research and offer support to people coping with

various forms of cancer. In the end, I chose a foundation that offers

support and assistance with treatment options.

A portion of my royalties from this novel will be donated to The

Minnie Pearl Cancer Foundation. The foundation was started right

here in Nashville by two local doctors. They continue to help

families dealing with cancer, not only in my community but across

the country.

For more information visit: www.minniepearl.org

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR one

Brooke Donahue hadn’t considered the afterlife since her

childhood Sunday-school classes, and she didn’t have any

more idea what she believed now than she had then. It wasn’t as if

she were feeling philosophical. She wouldn’t be contemplating it

now if she hadn’t been forced to.

She negotiated down the tree-lined neighborhood street and

pulled to the curb more out of habit than intention. Today would

likely be the last time she drove the familiar route—the last time

she visited the home of her best friend since high school. She

remembered when Diane had bought the house, shortly after her

divorce. After spending nearly ten years with her husband, Diane

had been nervous about starting over on her own. She’d regretted

her failed marriage but been optimistic about her new beginning.

We’re so sorry for your loss, but at least she’s in a better place.

That’s what people had been telling Brooke for three days now. But

she was convinced they didn’t know what else to say. No words

could make up for losing your closest friend or express no longer

having the only person in the world you could rely on.

Instead, well-meaning folks told her how Diane was no longer

suffering. Brooke didn’t know if people actually went anywhere

when they died. But, if so, how could anyone be certain that it was

a better place?

The sentiment didn’t provide any more comfort than the

countless unwanted hugs that Brooke had endured in the past few

hours. Somehow she’d made it through Diane’s funeral, steadfastly

• 11 •

eRin Dutton

ignoring the tears that trickled down her cheeks. Thank God, at the

burial she’d had the afternoon sunshine as an excuse to hide behind

her sunglasses.

She shook away the memory, reminding herself that her next

task would be just as difficult. Instead of getting out of the car, she

sat and watched a lone woman go up the walk to Diane’s house.

Brooke had seen her at the funeral and thought then that she seemed

familiar, but she couldn’t place her. The woman stepped carefully

onto the uneven porch like someone treading on unfamiliar ground.

After glancing at the numbers on the column, she crossed to the

front door and rang the doorbell. Then, instead of dropping her hand

she raised it to smooth the length of her auburn hair. Brooke had

time to register the woman’s black pencil skirt and loosely draped

charcoal blouse before someone opened the door and the woman

disappeared inside.

With her convenient distraction gone, Brooke forced herself

to get out of the car. At the cemetery, Diane’s mother had made her

promise to come back to the house afterward. Brooke couldn’t say

no when she looked into those eyes so much like Diane’s. So instead

of fleeing she pushed open the door.

As she entered, she dropped her keys on the table to her right

and glanced in the ornate mirror hanging over it. She looked nearly

as haggard as she felt. The smudges under her eyes testified to her

restless sleep lately. Instead of her usual purposely careless tousle,

her dark hair hung limply against her forehead, and she didn’t bother

to push it out of her eyes.

Brooke wove through the people gathering in the living room.

Diane would have laughed at the rotund man perched carefully on

the edge of the dainty settee. She’d raved over the antique piece

when they’d discovered it at an auction, but to Brooke it still looked

like a silly little sofa. Brooke’s taste tended as far toward simplicity

as Diane’s did toward opulence. Even from the beginning, when

they met in junior high, their differences had somehow made their

bond stronger. Diane was flamboyant and impulsive, and she often

pushed Brooke outside her comfort zone. But when Diane could

have gone over the top, Brooke’s practical side pulled her back.

• 12 •

Reluctant Hope

Diane’s tiny kitchen was the one drawback of the house, but

Diane hadn’t minded since she so rarely cooked. Now, the small

space was filled well beyond capacity, and Diane’s mother stood

at the center of the crowd. Brooke had seen pictures of her when

she was Diane’s age and often teased Diane that she had a living

snapshot of how she would age. Brooke swallowed against a ball of

grief in her throat. What had become a running joke between them

every time her mother was around was now a sad reminder that

Diane would never reach this age. The hair that had been graying

around Diane’s temple for years would never go completely white

like her mother’s.

Despite the other people in the kitchen urging Diane’s mother

to sit down and let them handle things, she bent to pull a casserole

out of the oven.

“I prefer to keep busy,” she said as she set the dish among the

patchwork of other food lining the counter.

“Someone else can do all this.” A well-meaning woman in a

paisley frock patted her shoulder.

“Brooke,” Diane’s mother said when she saw Brooke hovering

just inside the room. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

Brooke dutifully wound her way into the room and allowed

Diane’s mother to embrace her. She breathed in the heavy scent of

perfume and wondered if she would ever be able to smell flowers

without thinking of the funeral home.

“It’s so hard being here, in her house,” Diane’s mother

whispered in her ear.

“I know,” Brooke said, forcing the words through the thick

emotion climbing up her throat. Growing up, Diane’s mother had

been as close to Brooke as her own, and it cut deep to hear the pain

in her voice. Brooke gathered her closer and led her into the adjacent

laundry room and away from the chattering women around them.

“You cared so much for my Diane.”

“She was my best friend.”

“She was more than that. And you were more to her.” She

smiled sadly. “She was your sister. And you’re still a daughter to

me.” She grasped Brooke’s hand desperately.

• 13 •

eRin Dutton

Brooke squeezed back, amazed that Diane’s mother offered

such comfort in the midst of her own pain.

“I just want everyone to leave, so I can be alone with her.” The

shaking voice echoed Brooke’s own feelings. Her heart broke at the

anguish in those words, but before she could say anything, Diane’s

mother pulled away and swiped at her tears. “So many people who

loved her are here. I suppose they need to grieve just like I do.”

She returned to the kitchen and dove back into the busywork of

adding to the mountain of food already set out. Brooke worked her

way around the outside of the kitchen, then paused in the archway

leading to the living room and looked back. Diane’s meticulously

decorated kitchen faded into the homey, comfortable room where

they’d eaten chocolate-chip cookies fresh from the oven. She erased

the memory before it could penetrate her heart.

She stood there awkwardly for several more minutes, then spun

toward the living room and nearly ran into the redhead she’d seen

outside.

“Excuse me,” the woman murmured as she turned sideways to

slip between Brooke and the door casing.

“I’m sorry. I seem to be right in the way here.” Brooke tried to

step back quickly, but almost lost her balance. The woman grabbed

Brooke’s flailing hand and steadied her. Suddenly Brooke was looking

into eyes nearly the same shade of cool charcoal as the woman’s blouse.

“You’re Diane’s friend, Brooke, right?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. “I saw you at the funeral. Your eulogy was

beautiful.” She squeezed Brooke’s hand before releasing it.

“Thank you,” Brooke muttered, feeling strange about accepting

compliments on such a speech. She’d been nervous enough,

addressing a room full of people about something so personal as her

relationship with Diane, and her struggle to contain her grief had

made things worse. Her recollection of the eulogy was a myriad of

discomfort and pain.

“You must have been very close to her. By the way, I’m Addison

Hunt. I hadn’t known Diane long, only a year or so since she joined

our group. She was a wonderful woman.”

• 14 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke nodded, unsure what she should say in response. She

didn’t necessarily doubt Addison’s sincerity, but she’d been listening

to how wonderful Diane was all day. Did anyone go to a funeral and

mention the deceased person’s faults? Did anyone say she was a

stubborn woman who always had to have things her way? Or that

she loved to gossip? Or that she spent entirely too much money on

uncomfortable furniture?

Brooke wouldn’t have tolerated such remarks anyway. Much

like siblings, they were allowed to talk badly about the other, but

would fiercely defend them against anyone else doing the same.

Diane’s illness was probably the only thing she’d ever tried to

keep from Brooke. She had first battled bladder cancer two years

ago and endured treatment for several weeks before she broke down

and told Brooke what was going on. Diane had been resistant to

treatment, both psychologically and physically. She had fought her

diagnosis and her doctors with every new step, convinced she could

will the disease out of her body. The radiation, then chemotherapy

made her extremely sick. But as far as Brooke was concerned, it was

all worth it when she was finally declared cancer-free.

Then, a year ago, the cancer was back, and this time the

prognosis was worse. After the second diagnosis, Diane’s attitude

had changed. She immersed herself in an aggressive treatment plan

and attended a cancer support group. And though Brooke had never

understood why, Diane had taken immediately to the group. Brooke

couldn’t imagine that being around a bunch of other sick people

could make anyone feel better. Weren’t they all just waiting to see

who would die first? Brooke wasn’t surprised that she resented even

the mention of the group, but she hadn’t expected to be disappointed

when she discovered Addison was a member.

“…such a positive attitude even when things were difficult.

We’re planning a special tribute to her at our next meeting, and we’d

love it if you would come.”

Addison hadn’t stopped talking and Brooke had missed most

of what she said.

“I—um…” Brooke searched for a polite way to tell Addison she

wouldn’t attend. And that she didn’t think some cluster of strangers

• 15 •

eRin Dutton

who had only been acquainted with Diane as a cancer patient knew

her well enough to honor her. Really, this woman thought Diane had

a positive attitude, but Brooke had seen Diane’s agony and darkness

when things got bad.

“I’m sorry. I’m rambling.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I do that when I’m uncomfortable.” The shy way

Addison smiled contradicted the outward confidence Brooke had

sensed in her.

“Well, maybe you were. But it’s okay.”

The beginning strains of a sad melody drifted from the other

side of the living room, and the crowd fell silent. Someone had turned

on the television and Diane’s face filled the screen. Brooke vaguely

remembered glimpsing the slide-show DVD earlier at the service,

and had even provided some of her own personal photos to Diane’s

family to be included. But in her effort to keep enough control to

give her speech, she had purposely not watched the progression of

pictures. Now, the crush of people coming from the kitchen to see

the screen penned her in and she couldn’t escape.

So she gathered her defenses and inwardly promised herself

she could break down later if she could just get through the next

couple of hours. As Diane’s childhood played out on the television

in front of them, the expected chorus of “awww” and “how cute”

didn’t drown out the unrestrained sobs of Diane’s mother.

As the photos reflected Diane’s teenage years, Brooke began

to appear in them as well. During high school, they had been

inseparable. Brooke cringed at their over-teased hair and the stretch

pants and oversized T-shirts they wore. When Diane’s brother made

a teasing remark, Brooke ignored him, and even though she didn’t

look, she sensed Addison’s eyes on her.

The images flashing on the screen chronicled Diane’s life, but

so much was missing. These snapshots in time left glaring gaps

that laughter, anger, sadness, strength, and sometimes frivolity had

filled. Pieces of Diane were absent now, and Brooke struggled to

ensnare them in her mind so she wouldn’t lose them.

• 16 •

Reluctant Hope

In the next slide, Diane smiled and held up a plastic cup as

if toasting. Despite her wide grin, an ashen pallor dusted her skin

like too much makeup. Five months ago, after finding out that her

bladder surgery hadn’t been successful and her cancer had spread,

Diane had thrown herself a party—to celebrate her life, she’d said.

She didn’t want to wait until her funeral to hear all the nice

things people would say about her. She’d called together all her

friends and, as they reminisced about good times, she seemed the

happiest Brooke had seen her since her diagnosis. But despite

Diane’s repeated appeals, and a good deal of pouting, Brooke had

refused to—as Diane put it—do a dry run of her eulogy.

“That was the first time I’d ever been to a party quite like that,”

Addison murmured.

“You were there?” Brooke didn’t remember seeing Addison,

but maybe that explained why she seemed familiar.

Addison nodded. “I didn’t stay long. But I remember thinking

it was actually a good idea.”

“A good idea?”

“Yes, to celebrate, instead of feeling sorry for herself.”

“Celebrate what?” Brooke bit back. She maintained enough

composure to keep her voice down. “Giving up? Deciding not to

fight? Dying?”

Addison flinched at the last word. “I think she preferred to think

of it as acceptance and appreciation for the time she’d been given.”

A renewed flush of anger filled Brooke, but she shut it down

before it could surface. “I couldn’t see it that way.”

“But you were there that day, right?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you see how happy she was to be surrounded by her

family and friends?”

“Happy?” Diane had certainly put up a good front that night.

But countless other nights Brooke had held Diane while she cried,

when pain assaulted her in intense waves and she was hyperaware

of her mortality.

“Well, maybe ‘happy’ isn’t the right word, given the circum-

stances. But not everyone gets the closure of saying good-bye.”

• 17 •

eRin Dutton

Brooke didn’t agree that “closure” was a good thing. She’d

hated feeling like she was waiting around for Diane to die. She

couldn’t make herself cherish those moments. But she also didn’t

feel like debating with Addison. “I suppose whether you see that as

positive or negative is a personal opinion.”

“You may be right about that.” Addison glanced around the

room, her gray eyes clouded and serious. “I recognize some of

Diane’s family and friends from the party. I can’t believe I don’t

remember seeing you.”

“A lot of people were there.” Brooke recalled being

uncomfortable in the crowded room and taking her first opportunity

to escape. She didn’t think Diane would miss her, but she’d barely

gotten down the block when her phone signaled a text message.

Diane’s gentle admonishment wasn’t enough to make her turn the

car around though. Now she wished she’d gone back, that time and

every other time as well.

“She was well-loved. I don’t think I’ve talked to anyone who

didn’t like her instantly.”

Brooke nodded absently and mumbled, “Excuse me.” She

couldn’t stand to listen to Addison talk about Diane in the past tense

any longer. She skirted the people gathered nearby and headed for

the hallway.

Addison watched Brooke walk away, caught off guard by the

sudden change in Brooke’s demeanor. Their entire exchange had

been odd, beginning with the jolt of awareness Addison felt when

she’d inadvertently brushed against Brooke’s breasts in the doorway.

Taken by itself, that feeling wasn’t foreign; Addison had been in

touch with her sexuality since high school. But she’d barely felt

anything for anyone in over eight years because she’d been focused

on other things.

She turned back to the slideshow in time to see a quick

succession of photos flash on the screen like the rapid-fire finale

of a fireworks display. A series of shots of Diane and Brooke on a

beach flickered by. They both seemed happy, but Addison could tell

Diane was nearing the end. Her illness was even more apparent next

to Brooke’s obvious vitality. The thick hair falling across Brooke’s

• 18 •

Reluctant Hope

forehead was dark and shiny. Her skin glowed beneath the bright

sunlight and her cheeks were slightly flushed, unlike Diane’s pasty

complexion. The photo was gone before Addison could figure out

the expression in Brooke’s dark eyes, and a shot of Diane standing

alone at the edge of the surf replaced it.

The last picture lingered for a moment. Diane seemed small

against the vast expanse of water behind her. She smiled down at

her feet, where foamy water swirled around her ankles. The image

faded with the final strains of the music, and Diane disappeared in

an eerie flicker of white light before the screen went black.

Around the room, conversations resumed, but Addison

couldn’t shake the memory of a time when she had feared her own

friends and family might gather this way to mourn her passing.

She’d approached her own diagnosis in the same manner as she did

everything else. After allowing herself less than a day to succumb to

the fear, she shoved it aside and began to think practically. She hit

the Internet to research and attended her next doctor’s appointment

armed and ready for war.

But there the similarity to her and Diane’s situations ended.

Addison’s treatment had given her back her life, and Diane’s had

failed. She didn’t know if she could have handled the end with as

much grace as Diane had. Would she have known when it was time

to stop fighting?

❖

Addison left the noise of the living room behind and walked

down the darkened hallway. She opened the first door on her left

and didn’t realize she’d chosen the wrong room until she’d already

stepped inside. She’d entered what appeared to be the master

bedroom. Brooke sat on the edge of the bed, her fists balled in the

plush red comforter as if that were the only way she could keep from

bolting from the room. She’d looked up when Addison came in, and

fresh tears clung to her eyelashes.

“I’m sorry, I was looking for the bathroom.”

Brooke swiped at her eyes. “It was the second door on the left.”

• 19 •

eRin Dutton

“Are you okay?” Addison hovered in the doorway, unsure if

she should leave.

“Not really.”

“Of course, stupid question. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk?”

“We just did, out in the living room.”

“Yes, but—”

“I can’t talk about Diane anymore right now.”

“Okay.” She hadn’t said she didn’t want to talk at all. Addison

sat on the bed beside Brooke. “Pick another subject.”

“I don’t—I can’t—” Brooke appeared frustrated and her fists

tightened even more. Addison reached to cover the one closest to

her, but Brooke snatched it away. “What about you? What’s your

story?”

“My story?”

“Your cancer? Doesn’t everyone in your little group have one?”

The rancor in Brooke’s tone confused Addison. She’d never

seen anyone react so negatively to their support group. She wanted

to snap back at Brooke, but friends and family members had all

kinds of reasons to be angry, and those feelings sometimes got

misdirected.

“Breast cancer. I was diagnosed eight years ago.”

“Eight years? Weren’t you too young?”

“There’s no such thing as too young. ” Addison was surprised

to still hear the bitter edge in her own words after so long. At first

she too had believed she wasn’t at risk. She’d known women her age

who found lumps and had them removed, then discovered they were

benign, and she fully expected that would be the case with hers.

“Well, I meant statistically—”

“I was thirty-three when I was diagnosed. And, yes, it’s less

common at that age, but it happens.”

Brooke had studied bladder cancer after Diane’s diagnosis,

but her education on breast cancer consisted only of the publicity

found on television or in magazines. She’d seen the ads about the

importance of mammograms and self-exams, and she tried to visit

her gynecologist once a year. But until Diane’s first diagnosis,

cancer always seemed like something that happened to other people.

• 20 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke felt bad for Addison. Surely her ordeal was difficult,

but she was still alive. Diane was gone, and Brooke couldn’t seem to

put aside her grief to find true empathy for Addison. She didn’t want

to accept that she would never talk to Diane again.

Reminders of her filled every room in this house, both when

she was well and, worse, when she was sick. Brooke had sat on

this bed and commiserated with Diane through her divorce. She’d

also lain next to her when, ravaged by both cancer and chemo, she

couldn’t go to sleep, and they had talked until one of them drifted

off. She couldn’t escape the painful memories while in this house.

Maybe she could somehow shake the ghost in her own apartment.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Brooke jerked to her feet. “I needed

a moment in here alone, but now I’ve got to go.”

“I can go. Leave you by yourself.” Addison stood quickly as

well, her knees bumping Brooke’s as they stumbled into the same

space next to the bed.

When Addison grasped Brooke’s shoulders, Brooke cupped

her hands around Addison’s elbows for as long as it took to regain

her footing. Again Brooke looked into gray eyes now softened with

more sympathy than she could bear. Her desire to hold Addison for

a moment longer, to cling to the comfort of her touch, surprised

her. She summoned her usual need for physical distance and eased

Addison away from her.

“No, you stay. I have to get out of here.” She waved at the room

around them, which smelled like Diane, an annoying combination

of vanilla and lilac. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday and the heavy

scent turned her stomach, but she drew it in and engraved it deep in

her memory.

• 21 •

• 22 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR two

Damn it.” Brooke shoved her guitar out of her lap and onto

the sofa beside her. Sighing, she struggled to extricate

herself from the overstuffed cushions, then crossed the room.

“Stupid sofa,” she muttered, aware of how irrational she sounded

blaming the furniture for her frustration.

She glared at her guitar, though she knew the instrument didn’t

deserve her anger either. After all, her current lack of focus or her

inability to compose even a simple verse wasn’t her guitar’s fault. It

only lay there on the couch, innocently, mocking her. Come on, play

me. You’ll feel better. She’d been struggling with her latest song for

over an hour—well, butchering her latest song was more like it—

and she didn’t feel any better.

Every day she went through the same routine. She forced

herself to work and felt absolutely no inspiration. She couldn’t

quiet her mind enough to focus and usually gave up after a token

attempt at writing. More times than she wanted to admit, she ended

up watching true-crime television. But she was determined to keep

trying. She couldn’t hide out in her little apartment forever, and after

three months she should be productive again.

She wandered over to the bookcase and lifted a framed picture

from a middle shelf. Diane smiled back at her and Brooke’s eyes

welled. Through her loneliness, she imagined she could feel the

judgment in Diane’s expression. Shortly before Diane’s cancer

returned, she had sold a couple of songs, one of which had finally

made it to radio as a single. She’d been living off that check and her

• 23 •

eRin Dutton

savings ever since. In the beginning, she did so out of necessity, as

Diane’s treatment left her weak and ill and needing a lot of help. But

later, Brooke sought to remain in her misery. She couldn’t summon

the passion for songwriting that she’d set aside so many months ago.

After staring at her guitar for several more seconds, she

accepted that inspiration wouldn’t strike right now. Weak, Donahue.

She should force herself to work on the new song. When the phone

rang, she opted for the lesser punishment and answered it.

“Ms. Donahue?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Stacey Tanner. I’m calling to let you know we’ll

be having our first meeting Monday night at seven.”

“Meeting?”

“Yes, I know the event is still several months away, but the

earlier we start planning the better. At this first gathering, I’ll split

everyone into various committees, then you’ll meet in your smaller

groups. I mainly wanted to call and make sure you’ll be there

Monday and also to ask if you have any special skills that might

steer you toward a specific committee.”

“Special skills?” Since Brooke still didn’t know what they were

talking about, she didn’t have a clue what skills she might have that

this woman would be interested in.

“Yes. For example, Diane mentioned that you were a songwriter.

Does that mean you have contacts in the music business and maybe

could help plan the entertainment for the concert?”

Diane. Brooke had completely forgotten that she’d told Diane

she would help plan a benefit event to raise money for cancer

research. At the time they hadn’t known if Diane would be around

to see it through, but she’d made Brooke promise to get involved

either way.

“I could make some calls.” Maybe if she tossed a few moderately

famous acts in Ms. Tanner’s direction that would be enough to fulfill

her obligation.

“Great. Hang on to those names, and after you’ve met with the

rest of your committee you can start lining people up. I’ll put you on

the entertainment committee.”

• 24 •

Reluctant Hope

“Well, actually I have a lot of—”

“I’ll see you on Monday.” She hung up before Brooke could

argue.

❖

“Ramsey, five minutes.” Addison stuffed a peanut-butter-and-

jelly sandwich into a plastic Baggie.

“I can’t find my hat.”

“Your dad will be here soon.”

“We’re going on a field trip to the park today, Mom. I need my

hat.” Addison smiled. Ramsey had Addison’s practical side, but the

pink-and-brown striped cap she waved in the air as she entered the

kitchen perfectly matched her sweater and showed a glimpse of her

father’s appreciation for fashion.

“Well, since you found it, make sure you wear it.” Addison

tugged the brim of the hat low over Ramsey’s forehead and brushed

her hand down one of Ramsey’s pigtails. “I don’t want this beautiful

face sunburned.” Ramsey had her father’s golden complexion and

didn’t burn immediately, like Addison. But, hypervigilant against skin

cancer, Addison still insisted that Ramsey slather on sunscreen often.

As Addison finished packing Ramsey’s lunch in an insulated

bag, the chime of the alarm sensor signaled the front door opening.

Charles was predictably punctual, especially when it concerned

Ramsey. Addison couldn’t recall a single time that he’d been late

picking her up.

“Daddy,” Ramsey exclaimed.

“Hello, gorgeous girls,” Charles said as he entered the kitchen.

He caught Ramsey when she flung herself against his legs and

swung her into his arms. He didn’t flinch when she grabbed his silk

tie and tugged.

“Ready for school?”

“Yep. We’re having a picnic.”

“I know. You’re going to have fun. And all I get to do today is

work.” He pressed his cheek against Ramsey’s for a moment.

• 25 •

eRin Dutton

“You can take vacation and come on my picnic.”

He smiled. “Vacation? I wish I could, sweetie. But I have a

very important meeting.”

“Closing the deal today?” Addison asked. She crossed to them

and touched Ramsey’s shoulder.

“Let’s hope so.” Charles swept fashionably shaggy blond hair

off his forehead. “I’ve been wooing these people for months. I think

we’ve finally found a hook they’ll love.” Charles had been leading

his team on a proposed advertising campaign for a national sporting-

goods chain.

Though Nashville wasn’t known for advertising, twelve years

ago, Charles’s college roommate had opened a small but aggressive

agency, and Charles had followed to work with him. Since then,

they’d built a great reputation locally, but still had to fight hard

against agencies in Chicago, New York, and L.A. for the big jobs.

“Well, good luck. I know you’ll be great.” She smoothed a

hand over the impeccably pressed shoulder of his shirt.

“I’d better be. We need this campaign.”

“Is everything okay?” He hadn’t mentioned a problem, but

Addison knew he’d been stressed about this pitch.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine. It’s just that this could be the step

into the larger markets that we’ve been waiting for. And my bonus

would put a nice deposit in baby girl’s college account.”

“Well, she won’t get into college by being late for school. So,

off you go,” Addison said as she handed him Ramsey’s lunch, then

kissed Ramsey’s cheek. “Have a good day, baby.”

“Bye, Mommy.”

As Charles walked to the front door, Ramsey talked excitedly

about her school picnic once more. Addison watched them for only a

few seconds before heading down the hallway toward her bedroom.

She had fifteen minutes before she should be leaving for work, and

she still needed to change and put on makeup.

The mortgage firm Addison worked for had been struggling

lately, and rumors were swirling that cuts were coming high up in

the ranks. Her boss, one of the brokers, hadn’t been producing and

wasn’t very good at hiding his fear that he was at risk of being let

• 26 •

Reluctant Hope

go. As his administrative assistant, Addison was under nearly as

much stress. On mornings like this, she wondered if she should look

for another job. But she’d been with the company for fifteen years,

and with her salary and benefits she couldn’t afford to start over

someplace else.

So, just like every other day, she’d suck it up and hope the

housing market turned around soon enough to take the pressure off.

She lived in the real world and no one was ever happy with their

job all of the time. She couldn’t daydream about doing something

different; after all, she had a four-year-old to consider.

❖

Brooke studied the scrap of paper where she’d written down the

address Stacey Tanner had given her over the phone. She checked

the numbers against those carved into the cornerstone over the door

of the old church. The handwritten sign on the front door read: A

Community for Hope meeting in basement. Entrance in the back.

As she walked around the building, Brooke considered her

last chance to back out of participating in the committee. If Stacey

Tanner noticed she wasn’t there, she would just explain that she was

too busy—no, too distraught. Still in mourning, that sounded more

pathetic. She immediately felt guilty for even thinking of using

Diane’s memory as an excuse to get out of her obligation.

She’d promised Diane, but Diane wasn’t here to know whether

she kept her word. Remembering the day they’d talked about the

event, Brooke forced herself to continue toward the back of the

church. Diane had always been the type to get involved. When they

were in college she’d been on every committee and in many social

clubs, but, knowing Brooke’s dislike of crowds, she never pressured

her to join in. Since she’d been adamant that they both participate

in this fund-raiser, it must have been important to her. Honoring her

promise made her feel closer to Diane.

She rounded the corner and descended the steps to the basement.

A musty odor reminded her of junior high when she used to spend

her lunch break hiding out in the music library because that was

• 27 •

eRin Dutton

better than sitting alone in the cafeteria. She ate her sandwich while

leafing through old, yellowed pieces of sheet music and memorizing

chord progressions. She didn’t return to the cafeteria until high

school, after she met Diane.

Someone bumped Brooke from behind as she paused in the

doorway and jolted her from a remembered wisp of loneliness.

Without looking at the offender, she moved aside and nodded in

response to the mumbled apology.

Several rows of folding chairs faced a large dry-erase board

hanging on the opposite wall. Brooke chose a seat toward the

back, but as she sat down, the chair shifted and groaned, and she

immediately stood back up.

“Okay, everyone, let’s get started.” A tall blonde strode to the

front of the room. She tossed her head as she walked, making her

ponytail swing from side to side.

Brooke stepped back against the wall as several people eased

past her and sat down. As the row closest to her filled, several chairs

creaked, but they all seemed to be holding up. Brooke counted

heads—ten others besides herself and Ms. Tanner. She had no idea

how much planning went into an event like this, but she hoped that

meant her responsibilities would be limited.

“For anyone I haven’t met yet, my name is Stacey Tanner.

Let me thank you for generously volunteering your time. Cancer

has touched many of you in this room very intimately. If not you

personally, then someone close to you. And by being here, by

helping to organize this fund-raiser, you’re letting cancer know you

refuse to give up. We’re here to fight, for ourselves and for those

who are no longer strong enough to fight for themselves.”

When the heavy door at the back of the room inched open,

Stacey looked up and smiled in greeting, then continued talking.

Brooke vaguely registered more of the same speech, strong words

meant to inspire them to give until it hurt. But her attention wavered

as Addison Hunt snuck in the back door, followed by two other

stragglers.

Addison quickly took the seat on the end of the row nearest

the door, and Brooke couldn’t help watching her cross her long,

• 28 •

Reluctant Hope

stocking-clad legs with surprising agility in the cramped space.

Addison wore a navy-blue suit and her skirt pulled tightly across

her thigh, just above the knee. She’d probably come to the meeting

directly from work. Used to spending her work days in jeans and a

T-shirt, Brooke didn’t envy her having the kind of job that required

her to dress so formally. Lately, some days Brooke didn’t make it

out of her cotton pajama pants.

Addison looked good—comfortable in the suit and probably in

the business world that went along with it. From her upswept hair

down to the tips of her stylish heels, Addison exuded the kind of

confidence that had always escaped Brooke. Oh, she’d done her best

to fake it and had gotten pretty good at it, but inside she was still the

scared, shy girl she’d always been.

Brooke was still considering her own insecurities when

Addison glanced up and met her eyes. Addison smiled and gave

a small wave. Brooke forced herself not to jerk her eyes away.

Instead, she casually lifted her chin in greeting, then slowly slid her

eyes back to the front of the room.

“So I’ve broken you up into teams to work on each facet of the

event based either on your areas of expertise or where we need extra

help,” Stacey said as she passed around a stack of stapled papers.

“In this packet you will find a list of each team, including contact

numbers and some tips on getting started. Of course, my number is

in there as well, and you may call me at any time.”

Addison took the stack of papers from the person in front of

her, then passed it along. She kept one for herself and held one out

for Brooke. When Brooke leaned forward to take it, Addison slid

one chair to her right, leaving a vacant one beside her. Brooke took

the packet and settled in the empty chair as quietly as she could.

“If you flip to the last page of your packet, you’ll see a map

of the park we’ll be using. Those of you working on the picnic

and entertainment committees, please stay within your allotted

areas because space will be limited once the park is filled with

attendees.”

“She’s the most organized woman I know,” Addison whispered

as she leafed through the bundle of papers.

• 29 •

eRin Dutton

Brooke flipped through the pages until she saw her name listed

under the heading for entertainment, just where Stacey had said it

would be. But she paused when she saw the name listed next to hers:

Addison Hunt.

“Looks like we’ll be working together. Small world, huh?”

“Yeah,” Brooke whispered. Too small. Of the dozen or so other

people in the room, how had she been paired with Addison?

“Honestly, Stacey told me you’d signed up to help out. She said

you’re a songwriter.”

“That’s right.”

“I asked Stacey to put me on entertainment with you. I’ve

worked on this project every year for a while now, and I figured

since you don’t know anyone in the group you might want to see a

familiar face. Oh, I know we only met the one time, but we already

have Diane in common.”

Brooke nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Hearing Diane’s

name still sent a shaft of pain through her chest. And the way

Addison so casually compared their respective relationships with

Diane irritated her.

Stacey Tanner was winding down and Brooke couldn’t wait to

get out of there. Stacey reminded them about the next meeting and

asked each group to have a status report ready at that time.

“Would you like to meet later this week to brainstorm about the

concert?” Addison asked after Stacey had finished.

“Sure, whenever,” Brooke said as she stood.

“Really? Whenever?”

“Yeah. My schedule is flexible.”

“Wow. I can’t remember the last time I could say that and really

mean it. Well, I’m pretty booked until this weekend. How’s Saturday

afternoon for you?”

“Saturday it is.”

“Good.” Addison pulled a pen and notepad out of her purse.

“Here’s my address. Come over any time after three.”

“Addison, it’s good to see you again,” Stacey called as she

made her way down the aisle.

• 30 •

Reluctant Hope

She smiled and revealed teeth so straight and white they didn’t

seem real.

“Hello, Stacey. How are you?” Addison greeted her in the

socially polite way that Brooke never felt comfortable with.

“I can’t complain.”

“Good. And the twins? I haven’t seen them in so long, how old

are they now?”

“Almost nine.”

“That’s right. You were pregnant when I—when we met.”

Addison touched Brooke’s arm as if trying to draw her into the

conversation. “Stacey, this is Brooke Donahue.”

“Of course, we spoke on the phone. It’s nice to meet you.”

Stacey grasped Brooke’s hand and shook it before releasing it just

as quickly.

“Excuse me for a moment, I want to go say hello to Virginia

and Tessa.” Addison slipped away, leaving Brooke awkwardly

standing with Stacey.

“Addison told me you were close to Diane. I’m so sorry for

your loss. She was a wonderful woman.”

Brooke clenched her teeth and nodded.

“I met her in our support group. I wasn’t sick, it was my

husband. He had testicular cancer.”

How did one respond to such a statement? Brooke actually

wasn’t surprised at how willing Stacey was to share her personal

history or, more accurately, her husband’s medical history. She’d

experienced the same thing while sitting with Diane in the hospital

during her treatments. Bonded by a similar disease, and possibly

shared fear, the patients there often talked openly about their

diagnoses.

“I’m the one who convinced her to help out with the fund-

raiser this year. I’d hoped she would be…” After a few seconds of

tense silence that felt like an hour, Stacey said, “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay.”

Maybe it wasn’t, but Brooke was sick of hearing people

apologize, and she didn’t want pity from someone she didn’t know.

• 31 •

eRin Dutton

In fact, she didn’t want anything except to escape from this whole

situation. Brooke scanned the room and paused when she spotted

Addison. She stood with several other women, all of whom listened

intently to whatever Addison was saying. She gestured while she

spoke and her hands punctuated the air sharply.

“I think you’ll find Addison very easy to work with,” Stacey

said, tossing her head.

Brooke saw her opening. “Well, I was planning to talk to you

about that. If she could be more helpful someplace else, lining up a

few music acts is probably just a one-person job anyway.”

“Oh, no, it’s more than just the closing concert. The

entertainment committee is responsible for several blocks of time

throughout the day. It’s a lot of work, and while I don’t doubt you

could handle it on your own, I wouldn’t want to burn you out your

first time with us. Addison is experienced and I’m sure she’ll prove

very helpful.”

• 32 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR tHRee

Saturday afternoon, Brooke stood on Addison’s porch,

apprehensive about the number of cars parked in the

driveway and on the street in front of the house. Had she gotten

the time wrong or had Addison forgotten they agreed to meet? This

whole project had already been more trouble than it was worth,

and now she’d have to deal with this flighty stranger in order to

get through it. Deciding not to delay any further, she pressed the

doorbell.

The door swung open, but instead of finding Addison on the

other side, Brooke had to drop her eyes several feet until they rested

on a little girl. She looked like a china doll in a frilly blue dress the

exact color of her eyes.

“Hi. Are you here for my birthday?” The girl’s smile lit up her

tiny features.

“Um—”

“Ramsey, what have I told you about opening the door? Always

let Mommy get it,” Addison called as she crossed to the door.

“She’s here for my birthday,” Ramsey said, still gazing up at

Brooke.

“No, baby, this is my friend, Brooke.” Addison met Brooke’s

eyes and tilted her head toward the girl. “My daughter, Ramsey.”

She rubbed a hand over the girl’s blond curls, then steered her back

toward the living room. “Why don’t you go see if Daddy is ready to

cut the cake?”

• 33 •

eRin Dutton

“Cake!” Ramsey hurried across the room.

“Come on in.” Addison stepped back and let Brooke enter

before closing the door.

“You said after three. If now’s not a good time, I can come back

later.”“No, I’m sorry. The party’s running longer than I expected.

I thought they’d be done by the time you got here. Do you mind

waiting until I can herd all the guests out?”

“Of course not.” Brooke wanted to leave. “Did I hear something

about cake?”

“Yeah, follow me.”

Brooke followed Addison through the kitchen, out a set of

French doors, and into a small fenced yard. More kids than Brooke

could count ran around, weaving among the legs of a handful of

adults.

“Ramsey had to invite every kid in her preschool class. Who

knew they would all come.”

“How many are here?”

“I don’t know. They won’t stand still long enough for me

to count them,” Addison said with a smile. “Seriously, there are

twelve, including mine. Do you want something to drink?” Addison

gestured to an open cooler filled with juice boxes and bottles of

water.“I’ll have a fruit punch.”

“The other cooler has sodas for the grown-ups. But if you really

want a juice box, you’re welcome to one.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s been a while.”

“They’re a staple in our house.” Addison picked up a fruit

punch, opened the straw, and pushed it through the hole. When she

looked up and saw Brooke watching her, she glanced back down as

if she hadn’t realized what she’d been doing. “Sorry, habit.”

“Actually, that’s good. I can never get the straw in without

mangling it,” Brooke joked, taking the offered drink. “So, you have

a daughter.”

“Yes. She’s five today. But I guess the big number five on the

cake kind of gives that away, doesn’t it?”

• 34 •

Reluctant Hope

“I wouldn’t have guessed you had a kid.” And a husband?

She’d said “Daddy” was cutting the cake. But Addison didn’t wear

a ring. And though Addison hadn’t said or done anything to outright

confirm her sexual preference, Brooke hadn’t gotten a “straight”

vibe from her.

“Why not?”

“The couple of times I’ve seen you, you seem so…put together,

I guess.”

“And by that you mean I don’t have Cheerios in my hair. A

mom can’t be put together?” Addison smiled. “Being organized and

efficient is a necessary part of being a mother.”

“It’s not that. I don’t know. You were wearing more formal

clothing the other times I’ve seen you, and maybe that threw me off.

For whatever reason, I just didn’t expect it.”

“This is my ‘mom’ uniform.” Addison gestured down at her

light-pink T-shirt, which clung to her breasts and followed the plane

of her stomach and the curve of her waist. Perfectly manicured,

rose-tinted toes stuck out of leather sandals beneath the frayed hem

of her worn jeans. “Do you like it?”

Brooke liked it—probably too much. She cleared her throat,

hoping she could keep the warmth that was suddenly spreading

through her out of her eyes. “Yes. It’s very—matronly.”

“Nice. Thanks.” Addison laughed and swatted Brooke’s

shoulder. For a second she’d thought Brooke might be flirting with

her, but she must have been mistaken. Now, Brooke didn’t make

eye contact and her expression gave nothing away. Apparently,

Addison was sorely out of practice when it came to flirting. Brooke

was probably just being nice. After all, what choice did she have

after she’d shown up expecting to work on the project, only to find

a child’s birthday party going on?

“Mommy, it’s time for cake.” Ramsey returned and tugged

Addison’s hand. She looked up at Brooke for only a second before

grabbing her hand as well. “You can come, too.”

As Addison followed Brooke and Ramsey across the yard,

Ramsey chattered about her cake. She asked Brooke if she liked

chocolate, and Brooke only had time to nod before Ramsey began

• 35 •

eRin Dutton

raving about the butterfly theme on her cake and how much she

loved butterflies, and didn’t Brooke think they were pretty.

“Birthday girl, it’s time to make a wish,” Charles called as

Ramsey ran up to the table that held her cake. He’d just finished

lighting the candles and was trying desperately to keep one of the

dozen kids running around from blowing them out prematurely.

“I know exactly what I want to wish for.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.” Ramsey squeezed

her eyes shut and her forehead wrinkled in concentration. Then

she opened her eyes, sucked in a big breath, and blew out all five

candles. She clasped her hands together under her chin, obviously

delighted that she would now get her wish.

Charles cut the cake and handed plates to one of the other

parents, who then distributed them to the children. Ramsey had

now abandoned Brooke in favor of her dessert, and Brooke was

left, trapped in the middle of the chaos. She stood rigidly, clearly

wanting to dart away from the crowd surrounding her.

Addison grasped Brooke’s wrist and pulled her free of the

bundle of kids. As she led Brooke to safety, she scooped up a piece

of cake as well.

“Share this with me. I don’t need all the calories,” Addison said

as they settled on a pair of folding chairs next to a small card table.

She handed Brooke a plastic fork and put the plate between them.

“Unless you want your own piece.”

“No, this is fine.” Brooke took a bite. “Ramsey was right.

Butterfly cake is the best.”

Addison smiled. “Thanks.”

“You made this?”

Addison nodded.

“Well, it’s great. So I should add ‘baker’ to the list of things I

wouldn’t have expected about you?”

“Not really. It’s all part of the mom thing.”

“Really? Because my mother couldn’t bake at all. She tried—

for years—until she finally gave up and got store-bought desserts.”

• 36 •

Reluctant Hope

“Ah, well, not all moms are blessed with the same talents. For

example, I can’t sew worth a damn.”

“It’s good to know you have weaknesses,” Brooke said before

taking another bite.

“Please, I have plenty. And fears, too.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“When Ramsey was a baby, I was petrified. I guess I figured

because I waited until later in life to have her, I would have

everything together by then. But I worried about little things like

what was the best formula for her, or the best sleeping position. And

the big stuff, too.”

“Big stuff?”

Addison nodded, and a flash of remembered fear created a

thick ball in the back of her throat. “Like would I be around to watch

her grow up.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you remember all that.”

Addison shook her head, reminding herself of her pledge to

take things one day at a time. “It’s okay. I’ve mostly made my peace

with my reality. But when I was trying to get pregnant I sometimes

felt I was being selfish to want her.”

“Is it—I mean, is there still—do you think you need to worry?”

“I have no guarantees.”

“Of course not. But—well, you don’t have to tell me if you

don’t want to.”

“My prognosis?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe we should save that for another time.”

“Absolutely. I’m sorry.”

Brooke probably assumed her past was too difficult to talk

about. Enough time had passed that Addison could usually discuss

her cancer without getting emotional. But her daughter’s birthday

party wasn’t the place to do so. Today she was celebrating.

“The kids are all full of sugar. It’s time to send them home,”

Charles said as he joined them. He wrapped an arm around Addison’s

waist.

• 37 •

eRin Dutton

“I agree.” A few of the other parents had been checking their

watches earlier, and Addison expected them to start corralling their

children soon. “Brooke this is Charles, Ramsey’s father.”

“Hi, Brooke. Addison has told me a little bit about you.”

Charles stuck out his hand.

Since she’d said Brooke was moody and distant, Addison

hoped he wouldn’t elaborate.

“Nice to meet you,” Brooke said.

“I’m looking forward to the fund-raiser. I wanted to be involved

in the planning, but work has had me swamped lately. So I’ll have to

be content with attending.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m in advertising.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“Sometimes. But it can be a headache, too.” Charles squeezed

Addison’s waist and kissed her cheek before releasing her. “I’m

going to start cleaning up so you two can get to work once everyone

clears out.”

“Thanks, Charles. I see a couple of parents gathering their gift

bags already.” Addison had spent yesterday morning stuffing goodie

bags for all the kids. She turned to Brooke. “Make yourself at home,

out here or inside, whichever you prefer. I need to see Ramsey’s

guests out.”

❖

Brooke stepped inside the house as Addison closed the front

door for the last time. The guests had all left and, though evidence

of the party remained, cleanup efforts had begun. Brooke lingered

at the back door as Addison walked through the open living room,

picking up party favors, streamers, and empty plastic cups. By the

time she reached the kitchen she had an armload of debris.

“Let me help,” Brooke said as she followed Addison around

the counter.

“Thanks, but it’s a delicate balance. If you move one piece, I

may lose it all.” Addison crossed to the trash can and stepped on

• 38 •

Reluctant Hope

the pedal that lifted the lid. She dropped everything in and brushed

her hands together. “I’ll get to the rest of it later. Have a seat.” She

indicated the dinette table in front of the bay window.

Brooke sat facing the window, taking in the view of the

backyard. The crowd of people out there had distracted her earlier

so she hadn’t noticed how nicely the area was landscaped. Two large

trees sprinkled shade across the lush grass, and a tire swing hung

from one of them. A hammock on a stained teak stand stood under

the other, and Brooke imagined Addison lying in it while watching

Ramsey play nearby.

Where’s Ramsey?” she asked.

“She went home with Charles for a while. He’ll bring her back

before bedtime.” Addison retrieved a notebook and a pen from a

small secretary desk in the adjacent alcove and sat across from

Brooke.

“He doesn’t live here? So, you’re divorced?” Brooke didn’t

want to examine the hint of excitement she heard in her own voice.

“Divorced? God, no, we weren’t married.”

“Oh.” She’d assumed they were a couple, given the comfortable

way he’d put his arm around her and the obvious affection between

them. She couldn’t imagine Addison having a baby with someone

casually.

“Brooke, Charles is gay.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have guessed.” In the few minutes Brooke

had spoken with him, she hadn’t picked up any clues about his

orientation. Apparently her gaydar was off. Perhaps she was wrong

about Addison as well.

“He’ll be happy to hear that. He prides himself on being butch.”

“So you guys—I mean, he’s Ramsey’s—never mind, it’s none

of my business.” Brooke seldom asked such personal questions of

someone she barely knew. Actually, she rarely had conversations

with strangers that didn’t concern her work.

Addison shrugged. “It’s not a secret. I always wanted kids,

but I didn’t want to do it on my own. Charles is my closest friend,

and I was confident our friendship could withstand raising a child

together.”

• 39 •

eRin Dutton

“So you guys just—oh, my God, I’m sorry. This is really

not—um—congratulations.” Brooke felt her face flush with

embarrassment. She’d pretty much just asked Addison, someone

she barely knew, about her sex life.”

Addison laughed. “It’s okay. No, we didn’t do it the old-

fashioned way. I’m used to people asking about it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be. It’s private and none of my business.”

“When I was diagnosed, my doctor told me the treatment could

create problems with my fertility. So we froze some of my eggs, just

in case. After treatment, I had them implanted.”

“Was it safe?”

“Relatively. My doctor recommended I be two years cancer-

free. I waited two and a half, then tried a couple of times before it

worked.”

“Wow. You’re braver than I am.”

“I don’t know about brave. My future was still questionable,

but I was done waiting for things to happen for me. I’d just been

given a very big lesson in how short life can be. Charles provided a

good sounding board, and at some point during our discussions, we

came up with the idea of him being the father. He wanted kids, too.

This way Ramsey gets a mom and a dad. And if anything happens to

me, she’ll be in good hands.”

“And she’s cool with the whole gay-parent thing? Or does it

even matter to her at that age?”

“We both agreed not to bring dates around her unless it was

serious. But that hasn’t really come up. Charles is so in love with

her, when he has her, it’s all about her. If he’s going to see someone,

he does so when I have her. And I—” Addison stood and crossed to

the refrigerator. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” Brooke waited to see if Addison would pick

up that thread of conversation again. Though she really wanted to

hear more, she wasn’t sure she should ask. They were assigned to a

project together, that was all. And Brooke had been here for over an

hour and they hadn’t even started yet.

“So, I have all the paperwork Stacey put together for us,”

Addison said as she returned to the table with a glass of orange

• 40 •

Reluctant Hope

juice. She opened a folder and leafed through several pages. “Here’s

the map of the park she made.” She flipped that page out and laid it

on the table between them. “She’s also blocked out the time periods

that we’re responsible for filling.”

Stacey’s plan involved breaking up the day with various activities

in different areas of the park. The fund-raising walk would take place

early in the morning, right after the opening ceremonies, in order to

avoid the hottest part of the day. Brooke and Addison needed to line up

a couple of acts to provide music during the walk. Stacey had simply

specified that they come up with a creative form of entertainment or

contest for the spectators to participate in at several times later in the

day. The event would close with a concert and fireworks.

“I was thinking, we need a good band for the evening concert,

maybe a big name to draw in a crowd. Do you know anyone?”

“Let me make some calls. I’ll get back to you.”

Addison nodded and made a note on her copy of the schedule

next to the appropriate time slot. “Any ideas for ‘creative

entertainment’?”

“How about an open-mic portion? I could put out the word to

some songwriters here in town. A charity event like this is sure to

bring in some of the music business community. It would be a good

opportunity to showcase local talent.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Will you play?”

Brooke shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll be very busy that day.”

“But you just said it would be a good opportunity.”

“Yeah, but—”

“So it’s decided. You’ll play.” Addison leaned forward, meeting

Brooke’s eyes.

“Yes. I’ll play.” Brooke had no idea why she’d agreed so

easily, except that suddenly she wanted to satisfy the expectation in

Addison’s expression.

“Good. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.”

Brooke couldn’t speak and she couldn’t tear her eyes away

from Addison’s. The innocently spoken sentence had caused a twitch

low in Brooke’s belly. Her quick and intense response to Addison’s

words surprised her.

• 41 •

eRin Dutton

“Have you written anything I might know?” Addison carried

on with the conversation, apparently oblivious to the reaction she’d

caused.

Brooke reined in her overactive mind and forced her focus

back to Addison’s question. “I doubt it.”

“Why not?”

“Are you a fan of obscure country music?”

“Um, I’m not really a fan of country music at all.”

“None? Reba? George? Martina? Tim and Faith?” Brooke had

grown up in Nashville, and though she appreciated other musical

styles, country music was in her blood.

“I’ve heard of them, of course. But, no, I don’t listen to it.”

“What? How can you live in Nashville and not listen to country

music? Not even accidentally?”

Addison laughed. “Accidentally? How do you accidentally

listen to something?”

“Country outweighs all other markets on local radio. Haven’t

you ever been flipping the dial and stopped on one?”

“I guess I probably have. But nothing stands out as memorable.

So, I guess I don’t know if I have listened to any of your songs. I’m

sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Brooke waved off the apology, feeling

a bit foolish. She could almost certainly say that Addison hadn’t

heard any of her stuff. She’d had only a few songs released as radio

singles, and they didn’t exactly climb the charts. She’d made a name

for herself writing solid songs often used to fill out an album and

had been waiting for her chance to sell a breakthrough single. But

she’d allowed her career to stall when Diane got sick.

“I’ll get to hear at least one at the event, I guess.” Addison

picked up her pen. “Okay. Anything else?”

“I have a friend who does karaoke at a bar downtown. He

would probably help us out. Maybe a little audience participation

will break up the day.”

“Sure, but let’s not put it too close to the songwriters. We want

to distinguish between the crowd and the pros so no one feels self-

conscious.”

• 42 •

Reluctant Hope

“Put the karaoke in the afternoon so people have plenty of time

to sign up and choose their songs,” Brooke said.

“Good idea. Well, that gives us a good start.”

“Yes.” Brooke glanced at her watch and was surprised at how

much time had passed. Outside, the shadows of dusk were giving

way to darkness. “It’s getting late, I should get going.”

“I wasn’t trying to run you off. You’re welcome to stay and

chat. I just figured we could work on these things, then meet again

to check in.”

“Absolutely. And you’re not running me off. I have some things

to do at home and you’ll probably be ready to tuck Ramsey in when

she gets home.” When Brooke stood, Addison rose as well.

“Well, thank you for coming over, and for being so patient

about the party.”

“No problem. Just give me a call when you’re ready to get

together again.” Brooke already anticipated their next meeting

far too much. She hoped she could get a bit of distance by letting

Addison schedule it.

❖

“Today was my best birthday ever,” Ramsey said as she

climbed into bed.

“I’m glad, sweetheart.” She’d said the same thing the year

before. Addison tucked the covers around her and bent to kiss her

cheek.

“Next year, I want a ladybug cake.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to decide about next year, love.”

Addison was certain she would change her mind several times

before then. She would be in kindergarten and following whatever

fad was popular among her peers at the time.

As Ramsey talked about her plans for next year, her voice

sounded increasingly drowsy and eventually she drifted off to sleep.

Addison remained perched on the side of her bed, softly stroking her

hair back from her forehead. Thinking about her little girl going off

to school caused a knot in Addison’s stomach. Being separated from

• 43 •

eRin Dutton

Ramsey didn’t make her anxious. They’d spent time apart. From

infancy, Charles had taken Ramsey regularly, and she also went to

preschool or daycare when they were both at work. But Addison had

been having mixed feelings about Ramsey’s fifth birthday all day.

She was proud of the way Ramsey was growing up. She was

smart, funny, and kind-hearted; even at her young age she seemed

sensitive to the feelings of those around her. Yet at the same time

Addison still remembered clearly her decision to have a baby, despite

all her worries about potentially getting sick again and leaving her

child without a mother. Having Charles around eased some of her

concerns, but even the wonder of pregnancy couldn’t completely

eradicate them. Before Ramsey was born, Addison secretly wished

she could hold a part of herself back from her daughter, but the

minute she saw her, she fell completely in love.

However, the day she sent her off to school marked the beginning

of a new stage in Ramsey’s life. She would become increasingly

independent, and Addison would miss the days when she and

Charles were Ramsey’s whole life. Though it was an important part

of Ramsey’s development, she dreaded when Ramsey would prefer

time with her friends over time with her mom and dad.

For now, she would try to cherish days like today, when she and

Charles were still Ramsey’s heroes. She kissed Ramsey’s forehead,

then folded the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

“Good night, my sweet girl,” she whispered. Ramsey mumbled

softly and rolled over, curling her knees toward her chest and

pressing her fist under her chin.

Addison eased out of Ramsey’s room and closed the door.

She crossed the hall to her own bedroom and felt the beginnings of

fatigue when she saw her bed. She had made this room her sanctuary

and often could slough off hours of stress from work just by walking

in here. The walls were painted a pale lavender that matched the

pinstripes in her Egyptian-cotton sheets. A white duvet and a soft

heather-gray blanket made up the layers of bed linens that Addison

loved to bury herself between. She liked to be cozy when she fell

asleep, until the middle of the night when she cast off all but the

sheet.

• 44 •

Reluctant Hope

A house full of four- and five-year-olds could turn a long day

into a marathon. She longed to crawl between the sheets and close

her eyes. But her to-do list was overflowing with things she’d been

putting off. In the end, she compromised and took the notes she’d

jotted during her meeting with Brooke into bed with her and sat

propped against the headboard while she went over them.

She’d sensed Brooke’s reluctance the other night at the fund-

raiser meeting. She’d also seen Brooke’s discomfort in dealing with

Stacey and at first thought she was just shy around new people.

But Addison sensed something more—something in the edge of

bitterness when Brooke talked about cancer. Of course, it had been

only a few months since Diane’s death and naturally she was still

grieving. Addison wondered if she had gotten any counseling to

help her deal with the loss, but, though they’d made some progress

that afternoon, they weren’t at a point where she could ask such a

personal question.

Addison could usually read people well, but Brooke was a

proverbial closed book. She didn’t volunteer much information

about herself, and what she did offer only confused Addison

further. She’d always thought artist types were dedicated and full of

emotions that they poured into their work. For a songwriter, Brooke

seemed to have very little passion about what she did.

• 45 •

• 46 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR FouR

Did you bring me a new song?”

Brooke had barely made it through the door at Poppi’s

Cabaret before the owner and namesake of the bar accosted her.

Despite her cutesy name, Poppi was no pixie. She topped six feet

easily. Enfolding Brooke in long arms, she pressed her close to her

large breasts. Brooke endured the hug until Poppi released her with

nearly as much force as she had swept her up.

“Sorry, Poppi, I haven’t finished anything.”

Poppi had been after her for weeks to put together a set for one

of her famous monthly showcases.

“What’s going on, chick?” Poppi’s question was actually an

accusation, delivered with a bob of her head that set her thick dark

curls in motion.

“It’s just been a rough few months.”

“Aw, baby girl, I know. But you’ve got to keep on going. And

that means getting up on that stage.” She gestured to the darkened

platform at the far end of the room. Then she rounded the bar and

smacked a hand on its scarred surface. “But first, what are you

drinking?”

“Just water.”

“Water?”

“Please.” Brooke slid onto a barstool. Poppi had laminated

signed pictures of country stars who had played there onto the bar’s

surface. She also had several rows of photos hanging on the wall

• 47 •

eRin Dutton

behind the bar and added new ones every time a rising star became

famous.

Poppi slapped a napkin on the bar in front of Brooke and put

a bottle of water on it. “So if you didn’t bring me a new song, what

are you doing here on a Monday afternoon?”

“Diane roped me into helping plan this benefit to raise money

for cancer research. I’m working with another woman on organizing

the entertainment. I was hoping Keith might host the karaoke for

us.” “He’s not here yet, but I’ll ask him.” Poppi propped her

forearms on the bar and settled over them. “As a matter of fact, I’ll

make you a deal. Keith will DJ your karaoke, no charge, if you play

in my next showcase.”

“Shouldn’t you ask him first?” Brooke backpedaled. Getting on

stage was her least-favorite part of the job to begin with, and she’d

already committed to playing at the benefit. She’d much rather stay

at home and write the songs and leave the performing to someone

else. But playing one of these showcases every now and then was

a good way to keep her name in the right circles, and she’d seen

the budget Stacey had given them. If they wanted to pack in the

entertainment, they’d have to take donations wherever they could.

“I don’t have to ask him. He’ll do what I tell him.”

Brooke smiled at the image. Keith was a big guy and no one

would dare tell him what to do—no one but his wife. Keith and Poppi

made an imposing pair, but Brooke had rarely seen two people more

in love or happier with how they spent their time together. Keith had

worked two jobs to support them when Poppi opened this bar. Then

when the bar was doing well, he came to work for her. And anyone

who’d seen them together knew that Poppi was definitely the boss

and Keith had no problem with it.

“So, do we have a deal?”

“Damn it, okay. But I need time to come up with some new

stuff.”“You concentrate on your event. After it’s over, will you agree

to play the next showcase?” Poppi stuck her hand across the bar.

“Fine.” Brooke shook Poppi’s hand.

• 48 •

Reluctant Hope

“So tell me about this benefit. What else can I do to help?”

“It’s a whole day of activities, kind of like a community-picnic

setting with a 5k walk around the trail at the park. We’re setting up a

stage and doing a full day of musical entertainment, which the other

woman, Addison, and I are planning. There’ll also be a kids’ zone

with all kinds of games and an inflatable play castle or something.”

“Sounds great. If you need anything else from us, let me know.”

Poppi smiled. “I probably would have helped out even if you hadn’t

agreed to the deal.”

“Thanks a lot. So you just bullied me into that promise to

torture me.”

“No, I did it for your own good.”

“Same thing. But I’ll hold up my end of the bargain, and I may

take you up on the offer of more help.” Brooke slid a stack of her

business cards across the bar. “I need to line up some acts. I’ve got

some contacts, but you know everyone. And I trust you. If you say

they’re good, they are. Would you mind passing along my number?”

“Will do.” As Poppi tucked the cards in the breast pocket of her

gray button-down shirt, Brooke noticed the name “Larry” sewn on

the shirt and a patch on the other side advertising Larry’s Custom

Chrome.

“Who’s Larry?”

Poppi glanced down at her shirt. “Old boyfriend. Don’t tell

Keith. He thinks I bought it at a flea market. What? Don’t look

at me like that. We have some secrets. That’s the key to a healthy

marriage.”

Brooke laughed. “I wouldn’t know.”

“That’s because you don’t try. You’re a songwriter in Nashville.

You could hook up with new people every night if you got yourself

booked in the right bars.”

“I’m not interested in finding someone that way.” She’d

met a few women in bars over the years and it never worked out.

Typically, Brooke was there for business, not pleasure, so when she

came across a woman who was there hanging out, in the end, they

had very little in common.

“Don’t worry. When it’s right, you’ll know.”

• 49 •

eRin Dutton

“People say that a lot. But I’m not sure it always works out

that way.” She’d been waiting for magic. Hell, she’d even settle

for a tiny spark, but she’d never felt that connected to anyone. Her

strongest bond ever had been with Diane, and knowing how that

turned out, she wasn’t sure she wanted to love anyone.

❖

The shrill blast of a whistle cut through the giggling of the

dozen four- and five-year-olds sitting on the edge of the pool. From

her lounge chair nearby, Addison glanced up from her romance

novel long enough to make sure Ramsey was obeying her swim

instructor. The children had completed their required lessons early

and, as a reward, they now waited in line for their chance to jump

off the diving board into the deep end and, later, to swim races. One

instructor was treading water below to help them get back to the

side, and the other stood by the board. Though the kids were excited

and restless, the threat of losing this privilege calmed them down.

One at a time, they plunged into the water, trying to outdo each

other with the creativity of their jumps. As Ramsey approached the

diving board, Addison laid her book aside. Ramsey was fearless,

and her goal often seemed not just to impress her friends but to

scare her mother. She looked over at Addison and grinned. Addison

smiled back, knowing Ramsey loved the attention.

Ramsey stood at the back of the board. After a running start she

flung herself off the end, tucked her chin, and kicked her legs in the

air. She didn’t get enough rotation for the flip and landed flat on her

back in the water. Addison held her breath until Ramsey surfaced.

Her worries were soothed when Ramsey came up smiling and

shoving her hair out of her face. Her dive wasn’t pretty, but it was

enough to earn a round of applause and laughter from her friends.

Ramsey pulled herself up the ladder and hurried over to Addison.

“Don’t run,” Addison warned her. Charles said she babied

Ramsey and joked that it was his job to toughen her up. Admittedly

at times she had to remind herself that Ramsey wasn’t a fragile child

and that she shouldn’t be raised in a bubble because of Addison’s

• 50 •

Reluctant Hope

fears. But, as a mother, she had a right to worry occasionally about

her daughter.

“Did you see, Mom?”

“I did. That was great. I give it an eight and a half.” Addison

never gave tens, wanting Ramsey to always strive for more.

“I need to practice.”

“Did it hurt?”

Ramsey shook her head, but Addison didn’t think she would

admit if it’d stung even a bit.

“Do you think Daddy will take me swimming tomorrow, too?”

“You can ask him. But for now, go back to your class.”

Ramsey rejoined them just as the instructor was separating

them into groups for races swimming across the pool.

Addison smiled and picked up her book again but had trouble

concentrating on the story. Ever since her meeting with Brooke on

Saturday, she had wondered when they would get together again.

Brooke had left things up to her. Certainly, two days wasn’t enough

time for either of them to have accomplished anything worth talking

about. But maybe by the weekend she would feel okay calling

Brooke.

“Daddy!” Ramsey’s exclamation drew Addison’s attention.

Charles waved at Ramsey as he crossed to where Addison sat.

“I’d planned to drop her off at your house,” Addison said as he

stretched out on the chaise next to hers.

“I know. But I was out running errands and knew you’d be

here. It seemed just as easy to stop by and get her. Besides, I like

watching her swim.”

“She’s already planning to ask you to bring her back tomorrow.”

“We won’t have time tomorrow, but maybe I can make it up to

her with a trip to that big playground she likes this weekend. I’ll let

her invite one of her friends along.”

“She’ll love that.” Addison gave him an exaggerated smile.

“You’re the coolest daddy ever.”

“Yeah, whatever. How was work today?”

“Same as usual. Everyone’s hoping the market will turn around

while waiting for the next wave of layoffs.”

• 51 •

eRin Dutton

“That’s understandable. It’s tough all over right now. Are

you still solid?” He stretched back and rested his hands behind

his head. When he crossed his ankles, he looked every bit the

beautiful, arrogant man Addison had thought him to be when they

first met.

“I’m good. Even if Evan goes, I’ll get moved to another broker.

I’ve been there longer than a lot of the other assistants.”

Many of the other administrative assistants had come and gone,

leaving for jobs with larger agencies. Addison had stayed put, not

because she hadn’t had other opportunities, but because the sacrifice

for stability in her professional life was worth the gain in her personal

life. Her current job allowed her to devote more time to Ramsey.

Though she knew plenty of women who juggled motherhood and

an advancing career, Addison didn’t want to waste a minute that she

could spend with her daughter.

“I meant to ask you the other day how things went with that

woman who came to Ramsey’s party.”

“Brooke? Fine.” She hoped he wouldn’t press further.

“She’s hot. Very quiet, though. And a little too butch for you,

but if that’s what you’re into these days—”

“I’m not. Into—that, um, her.” Addison shook her head as if she

could clear the sudden confusion that thinking about Brooke caused.

“We’re working on the fund-raiser together, that’s all.” Too butch?

Addison hadn’t really thought of Brooke that way. Yes, she had

strong features, and her cargo shorts and T-shirt were a bit boyish,

but her soft brown eyes framed by long lashes and her slender hands

were quite feminine.

“Really? I saw the way she looked at you. She’s clearly into

you. And you seemed a bit more flirty and girly than usual. Are you

sure there’s nothing between you?”

He was fishing, Addison was certain. He couldn’t have gotten

anything from the few minutes that he’d spoken to Brooke on

Saturday.

“Nope. Nothing. Just working together.”

“What did you guys talk about after everyone left? Just work?”

“Yes. Why are you so interested?”

• 52 •

Reluctant Hope

He shrugged. “You haven’t dated anyone in almost a decade.

You’re nearing some kind of Guinness record, and if you get in that

book you’ll be famous.”

“You’re an ass.” Addison sneered at him. “You’re in a bit of

a slump yourself. Have you been out with anyone since the golf

instructor?”

“No. And I’m still sorry that didn’t work out.”

“Why?”

“My swing was really starting to come around.”

Addison laughed. “So, Mr. Guinness-record-holder, when was

the last time you got laid?”

“Wow. Who was talking about sex? Your mind goes straight to

the gutter.”

“That’s your influence. Besides, it’s been so long since either

of us was involved with anyone but each other that talking about

relationships means I have to go back to our younger days in the

club when nothing mattered beyond the weekend.”

He looked wounded. “You don’t think I’m looking for

something serious?”

“Are you?” He wasn’t a playboy. But aside from the time

he spent with Ramsey, he was extremely independent, and she’d

assumed he was satisfied with his solitary lifestyle.

“Maybe I am. I don’t know. We’ve been us—you, me, and

Ramsey—for so long that between that and work it’s difficult to

think about directing my energy anywhere else.”

“Any time you need a break from parenting, you can tell me.

That was part of our arrangement.”

“I know. And I don’t mean to put it all off on Ramsey. I love my

time with her and wouldn’t trade it for a dream date with a gorgeous

man. But that doesn’t mean that at times I might not want a partner

to share it all with.”

“You’ve never told me any of this.” Charles was her closest

friend, and she’d thought they shared pretty much everything.

He shrugged. “Once, I thought I might lose you. So I know

exactly how blessed I am to have you and Ramsey in my life. I don’t

want to dwell on what I don’t have.”

• 53 •

eRin Dutton

Addison didn’t know what to say. He really wasn’t the same

man she’d met so many years ago. She’d been through a lot since

her diagnosis and needed to remember that he’d been at her side

every step of the way, so of course it had affected him as well.

“It’s really too bad I’m not straight. That little girl is a chick

magnet. Moms hit on me at the park all the time.” And just that

quickly, the Charles she knew and loved was back, breaking up the

seriousness with a joke.

“Really? That doesn’t happen to me.”

“Well, I guess you need to figure out where the single lesbian

moms hang out.”

“Please.” Addison tossed her hair. “Those moms wouldn’t be

able to handle all of this.” She swept her hand down her body in an

exaggerated motion. Even as she made the flippant comment, her

mind flashed on Brooke’s look of discomfort when a dozen five-

year-olds surrounded her. Could Brooke be attracted to a woman

with a child?

“You’re probably right.”

Fifteen minutes later, after Ramsey finished her races, Addison

retrieved Ramsey’s backpack from her trunk and kissed her good-

bye. As she sat inside her SUV and watched Charles’s car drive

away, she suddenly felt lonely but couldn’t pinpoint why.

While Ramsey was an infant, Charles had spent his time with

her at Addison’s house, often sleeping over in the guest room. Since

Addison hadn’t been able to breastfeed, Charles took turns getting

up with Ramsey. But by the time Ramsey was a few months old, he

was taking her home overnight, then for several days.

Charles was a very involved father, and since he lived only

five minutes away, Addison had watched Ramsey leave with him

countless times in the past five years. She loved her daughter and

missed her, but they were accustomed to time apart and it didn’t

seem to affect their bond.

Perhaps her conversation with Charles was responsible for the

funk she currently was slipping into. Charles hadn’t been far off in

his estimation of the time since her last date. She hadn’t been in what

she would term a relationship since a year before she got sick. For

• 54 •

Reluctant Hope

two years after her diagnosis she’d been engrossed in her treatment

and the fear that followed. Then Ramsey came along and…Addison

could conjure up a list of excuses, but basically, by the time she’d

run out of more important things to concentrate on, she didn’t want

to disturb her comfortable dynamic with Ramsey and Charles.

She’d been single for nearly a decade now, and if that thought

alone wasn’t enough to deter her from getting involved, the idea

of getting naked with someone again terrified her. She hadn’t had

any qualms about sex when she was younger. She still had a decent

body, but, though her plastic surgeon had done a great job on her

implants, she had considerable scarring. Surgery had changed her

breasts dramatically, not to mention the number that childbirth had

done on her once toned and firm stomach.

Brooke Donahue was hot. If Addison were younger and less

jaded about life, she might even have a little fun flirting with Brooke.

But she’d also felt Brooke withdraw when it came to anything

cancer-related. She wouldn’t be fending off any advances soon.

• 55 •

• 56 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR Five

Sunlight poked through the canopy of trees and warmed

Brooke’s skin as she stepped out of her car in the north lot

of Sycamore Park. Mature woods that faded from dense foliage into

well-spaced trees lined the edges of the park.

Addison steered a black SUV into the spot next to hers. Sleek

and compact, it wasn’t an over-consuming monstrosity, but more

like a sports car stretched and blown back into an elegant machine.

“More mom gear?” Brooke asked as Addison got out.

Addison smiled. “I’m not really the minivan type.”

“Shall we?” Brooke led her to the beginning of the path.

“This was a good idea. I needed to walk off the stress of my

work day before I pick up Ramsey. And what better way to find

inspiration than to stroll through the very park where the event will

be held.”

When Addison had called and asked if they could meet and

compare notes, Brooke suggested the park. The weather was

gorgeous, and she’d offered an afternoon stroll first.

As they walked quietly side by side, Brooke breathed deeply,

enjoying the humid summer air and the teasing scent of Addison’s

perfume. Brooke slowed and moved behind Addison in order to let

a jogger pass. Though she felt like a cad, she couldn’t help sneaking

a peek at Addison’s body. Addison’s T-shirt was the perfect length.

The hem ended just above the waistline of her athletic pants, leaving

a sexy little strip of skin bare.

• 57 •

eRin Dutton

“The stage will be over there.” They had passed through the

trees and entered a large open area. Addison pointed to the far end of

the grassy expanse. She glanced over her shoulder and, afraid she’d

been caught looking, Brooke practically stumbled back to her side

of the path. “The concession tents get set up there.”

“That leaves plenty of room for people to spread out in front

of the stage.”

Addison nodded. “We usually get families who stake out a

piece of grass with a blanket and use it as home base for the day.”

“Will we have someplace the musicians can get organized

before going on?”

“We set up an enclosed tent to the left of the stage. It serves

as a dressing room, staging area, and whatever else we need.” Still

following the path, they circled the outer edge of the clearing.

“We’ve gotten a little better at this over the years. The first event

was a complete mess. We overestimated attendance and paid the

caterers for way too much food. We sent the considerable leftovers

to a homeless shelter so it wasn’t a total loss, but it hurt our budget.

Luckily, we’ve grown since then and are hitting the attendance

numbers we wanted that first year. One year we had a horrible storm

and the wind blew several of the tents down on top of attendees.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Nothing more than minor bumps and bruises, luckily.”

“You couldn’t be held accountable for the weather, though.”

Addison appreciated the reassurance now, but it wouldn’t have

helped three years ago while she struggled to pull countless yards

of wet PVC fabric off the guests. “No, I guess not. But it certainly

didn’t make the day feel like a success.”

As they reached the playground, Brooke veered off the path

and headed for the swings. “Let’s sit for a minute.”

Addison grabbed the chains of Brooke’s swing, low, near the

seat, pulled her back, then released her.

“I haven’t done this in years.” Brooke pumped her legs and

propelled herself higher.

“The swings are Ramsey’s favorite. She loves going as high

as she can and usually wants me to race her.” Addison sat next to

• 58 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke. The feel of the swing hugging her hips and the creaking of

the chains always inspired a sense of nostalgia.

Brooke’s shorts bunched higher on her thighs, and beneath the

edge of her sleeves, her arms tightened as she pulled on the chains.

Competitiveness surged in Addison, so she planted her feet and

pushed off. She’d almost caught up when Brooke started pumping

faster, rocking back and forth as if trying to gain more momentum.

Brooke glanced over to check Addison’s progress and Addison saw

challenge in her eyes. Addison picked up her pace as well. They both

worked furiously until they reached that height where the chains got

slack and the ride became jerky.

“Not bad.” Brooke grinned. “Want to see who can jump off and

land farther?”

“Lord, no. I’d break something for sure. I’m not as young and

flexible as I used to be.”

Brooke lay back, stretching her arms out to hold herself up, and

straightened her legs. “You almost beat me.”

“What? Almost? I passed you easily.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do. Do you want to go again?”

Brooke hooked her elbows around the chains and rubbed her

thighs. “No. I don’t think I have it in me.”

Addison coasted to a stop and put her feet down. She wandered

over to the play area, running her hand over the sun-warmed surface

of a slide. A thick plastic, padded apparatus had replaced the metal

monkey bars of her youth. She’d watched Ramsey run around with

the same abandon she used to. But when Ramsey fell, she landed

in a thick layer of rubber mulch instead of the hard-packed sand

Addison remembered.

While Addison could look back fondly on her childhood, she

would also do anything to spare Ramsey the experience of slipping

from wet metal bars and hitting the ground so hard it took her breath

away. She would save Ramsey from pain at every stage of life, even

though she’d known since she decided to gamble on pregnancy that

she could never promise her child a pain-free life.

• 59 •

eRin Dutton

“Hey, what happened?” Brooke crossed to her. “You spaced

out on me.”

“Sorry. I got lost in childhood playground memories. Don’t

you ever miss being that carefree?” Addison returned to the path

and Brooke fell into step beside her.

“I haven’t thought about those days in a very long time.”

“I became extremely reflective while I was sick, and I guess I

hung onto a little of that.”

“Diane was the same way. She got in these moods and wanted

to talk about the good old days, but I refused.”

“Why?”

“I told her that she shouldn’t spend her energy wallowing in the

past, but instead should focus on getting better.”

“That’s what you told her. But what was the real reason?”

Confusion flashed across Brooke’s expression and she hesitated

for a second before answering. “Diane was my closest friend—at

times my only friend. She and I shared so much. I didn’t want to

think about a time when she was gone and no one remained to share

those memories with.”

Instinctively, Addison sided with Diane because they’d been

in nearly the same place. Brooke’s perspective was interesting, and

Addison wondered if her own friends and family felt something

similar.

“She needed to revisit those memories for herself, to try to

recollect that happiness and warmth. But she probably wanted to

make sure they were fresh for you as well.”

“What difference is that supposed to make? She’s still gone.”

The hard edge of anger crept into Brooke’s tone.

Addison searched her memory for the feelings she’d had to sort

through when she was sick. Her stomach clenched as she immersed

herself once more in the stark fear of dying. “That’s complicated.

When we love someone, we want to spare them pain—to know they

will be comforted and not hurt too much if we die. But a selfish part

of us wants to know that we’ll be missed when we’re gone, that

we’ve left some kind of legacy. Reminding loved ones how much

we meant to them is a step toward both of those things.”

• 60 •

Reluctant Hope

“That’s just mean. So you’re saying she wanted me to miss her

more.”

“Unconsciously, maybe. I don’t know, Brooke. It’s what I did.

And a lot of people from our support group have talked about doing

the same thing. You should come to a meeting with me sometime.”

“No, thanks,” Brooke answered immediately. She walked

faster and Addison lengthened her stride to keep up.

“You might find some closure—”

“I doubt it.”

“Why do you become so angry when I talk about our group?”

“Because I don’t get it,” Brooke snapped back. “You keep

talking about what a positive person Diane was and how she

embraced treatment, but that’s all bullshit. You didn’t know her the

first time she was diagnosed. She was an angry mess. She fought her

doctors, she fought me, she hated all of it.”

“She wasn’t that different from the rest of us.”

“She is.” Brooke stopped walking. “She was. She was different

because she was my friend. You can’t lump her in with some group

and say you’re all the same because you’ve all had cancer.”

“I’m not trying to take anything away from her individually.

And I’m not trying to force you into something you don’t want to

do.” Addison took a step closer and touched Brooke’s shoulder.

Brooke’s eyes were dark pools of agony and Addison wanted to

pull her into her arms. But so much tension was vibrating through

Brooke’s body she would most likely fight the embrace. “I didn’t

know Diane then, but I do know that, in the end, she found a degree

of comfort in our support group. That’s all we try to offer, not only

to those battling cancer, but their family and friends also.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t need any comfort.” Brooke stepped back,

severing their physical connection. She held Addison’s gaze for a

moment longer and reconstructed an almost-visible wall around her

raw pain before she turned and began walking again.

Addison quelled the urge to argue. Brooke wouldn’t gain

anything from a meeting unless she was ready to attend. She clearly

didn’t think much of support groups, or perhaps just this particular

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one. From what little she knew of Brooke, trying to push her into

attending wouldn’t make her more likely to go.

They continued without speaking, the only sound the slight

panting of Brooke’s breath. Addison had several inches of height

over Brooke and didn’t have to work as hard to maintain their pace,

but she didn’t slow down. Brooke was the one who had sped up and

Addison took a tiny bit of pleasure in forcing her to keep going, then

in pushing it a little faster. Brooke pumped her arms as she struggled

to stay with Addison.

They followed the path silently for about another quarter mile

before Brooke finally slowed. “Okay, okay. You’ve proven you’re

in better shape than I am.” She stopped, bent, and braced her hands

on her knees.

“What do you mean?”

“Cut the innocent act. I know what you were doing. A little

competitive, huh?”

“A little,” Addison said.

“Have you always been?”

“In school I played several sports and remained active into

adulthood. When I got sick, I had to take a break, then another when

I got pregnant. But I’ve tried to continue returning to an exercise

routine each time.”

“It sounds like you’re a lot more dedicated than I am, even with

everything you have going on.” Brooke patted her stomach. “I’ve

gotten sedentary and pudgy.”

“Please, you look great.” Addison didn’t see a thing wrong with

Brooke’s body. Maybe she didn’t have the stick-thin figure women

seemed to sweat for in the gym, but she was soft and curvy in all the

right places.

“Seriously, I wasn’t fishing for a compliment. I’m just being

honest. I’ve been slacking in every area of my life recently. Maybe

that’s why Diane bullied me into this fund-raiser, to get me moving.”

“She bullied you?”

“I certainly didn’t volunteer.”

“Well, we aren’t so desperate for help that we have to drag

people in against their will.” She’d endured Brooke’s disdain for

• 62 •

Reluctant Hope

the support group, but she’d worked on the fund-raiser for years and

wouldn’t let Brooke disrespect their efforts.

“Really? Because I saw how few people were in that meeting.

Seems like you can’t afford to turn anyone away.”

Addison stopped walking. Brooke was probably trying to

cover up the wounds she’d revealed a short time ago, but Addison

wouldn’t let her use that as an excuse to be rude. Not only had cancer

personally affected her over the years, but she’d also become friends

with many others in her situation. Brooke’s apparent inability to see

the importance of this event irritated her. “If you want to just forget

the whole deal, I can handle the planning myself.”

Still walking, Brooke slowed, turned backward, and faced

Addison. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”

“No, you didn’t. But clearly you don’t want to.” Yes, Addison

felt defensive of the project, but a part of her took Brooke’s rejection

even more personally.

“It’s fine. I’ve already put feelers out to get some names for the

concert.”

“We’ve managed with our mediocre talent for years. I’m sure

we could again.”

“I merely said Diane had to convince me to work on the fund-

raiser.”

Addison took a deep breath and resumed walking. Was she

getting unnecessarily aggravated? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t

want to let Brooke turn this around on her. “It seems like you think

I’m—we’re supposed to be grateful that you’ve made time in your

busy schedule for us.”

Brooke’s mouth tightened and Addison knew she’d touched a

nerve. Addison usually had no problem controlling her temper, and

even now she could have reined it in, but she really didn’t want

to. From the first time they’d met she’d felt like she had to tread

carefully, and she was tired of it. Brooke had refused every offer

of help. If she wanted to deal with everything alone, why should

Addison care?

“I get that you’re angry, Brooke, I really do. You’re grieving.

Fine. But I don’t understand your obvious disdain for a committee

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eRin Dutton

whose sole purpose is to raise money for a good cause, or your

hostility toward our support group, which comforted your friend

when she was ill.”

“You weren’t more than an acquaintance and you don’t know

what I’m feeling. You don’t know what I’ve lost.”

“I have an idea.” Addison wanted to reach out to Brooke, but

the tight fold of Brooke’s arms over her chest didn’t invite affection.

Brooke bit her lower lip. “It’s not the same. Being left behind

is—Diane got out easy.”

“Dying isn’t the easy way, Brooke.” The flash of acute anxiety

surprised Addison. She was accustomed to ghosts of fear, but usually

she could shake them off. Today, they clung to her, sending her

heartbeat into overdrive and stealing her breath. “There’s nothing

easy about any of it. Someday, you’ll be able to see that.”

“Not today,” Brooke said matter-of-factly.

“Okay.” Addison wanted to be sympathetic, but Brooke was

shutting down her every effort. “Maybe you should just give me a

call when you’re ready to discuss plans for the fund-raiser.”

“Damn it. Addison, wait.”

Addison didn’t look back.

• 64 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR six

Brooke heard the distant peal of the doorbell inside and still

couldn’t decide if she wanted Addison to answer the door.

She rarely felt the need to grovel, but in this case it was necessary.

Addison opened the door and walked away, leaving Brooke

wondering if she should follow. She stepped inside, inwardly preparing

her apology. Addison continued into the kitchen where Ramsey sat at

the table with an array of construction paper spread out in front of

her. Addison brushed her hand over Ramsey’s hair as she passed. She

went to the sink and submerged her hands in soapy water, clanging a

pan against the side of the sink as she scrubbed it vigorously.

After Addison had left Brooke in the park two days ago,

Brooke tried to call but Addison didn’t answer and hadn’t returned

her messages. She knew she would see her Wednesday night at the

next fund-raiser meeting, but she didn’t want things to be awkward

between them then. So, while out running errands this morning,

Brooke decided to take a chance and apologize in person. She had

no idea what Addison’s Saturday mornings usually consisted of, but

she hoped Addison wouldn’t consider her visit an intrusion.

“Hi, Ramsey,” Brooke said.

“Hi.” She raised her head, then returned her attention to the

paper and safety scissors in her hands. The tip of her tongue poked

out and curled around her top lip as she concentrated on cutting the

paper.

“What are you making?”

• 65 •

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“A card for Mommy.”

“Yeah? Is it her birthday?” Brooke glanced at Addison, but her

back was still turned.

Ramsey shook her head.

“What’s the card for, then?”

“Just because.”

“Is it okay if I make one, too?”

“Sure.” Ramsey opened a plastic pencil box next to her and

passed Brooke a pair of scissors.

“What color do you think?” In the mirror hanging on the

opposite wall, Brooke caught Addison peeking over her shoulder.

“Mommy likes purple.”

“Then purple it is.” Brooke chose a lavender piece of paper and

a darker purple crayon. She folded the paper in half and drew a large

flower on the front.

Ramsey rose on her knees and peered closer, resting her hand

on Brooke’s shoulder for balance. “Yellow flowers, too.”

“Yellow?” When Brooke glanced at her, Ramsey nodded and

handed Brooke the appropriate crayon.

Under Ramsey’s watchful gaze, Brooke added smaller yellow

and white flowers. She drew green stems resting in a red vase.

“What do you think?”

“Pretty.” Ramsey smiled.

“We’ll see what your mommy thinks,” Brooke whispered. She

reclaimed the dark purple crayon and added a message to the inside.

Brooke stood and Addison turned, wiping her hands on a towel,

but her expression provided no clues about what she was thinking.

Without a word, Brooke held out the card. Addison took it and

flipped it open as if she didn’t care about what was inside. She took

much longer than was necessary to read the two words “I’m sorry,”

followed by a smiley face. Brooke would have been concerned if

she hadn’t seen the corner of Addison’s mouth twitch.

“A word of warning.” Addison held up her index finger and

waved the card in the other hand. “I’m letting this pass as an apology

this time, because it’s cute. But if you screw up any bigger, this

won’t suffice.”

• 66 •

Reluctant Hope

“Real flowers?” Brooke teased her, enjoying the flirtation.

“Candy? Bigger, huh? Jewelry.”

“Diamonds. Big, big diamonds. For sure.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Mommy, I want diamonds, too.” Ramsey jumped down from

her chair and stood between them. She grabbed Addison’s hand and

looked up at Brooke, touching her knee shyly.

“That’s right, baby. And don’t settle for less.” Addison shrugged

and laughed. “I may as well teach her to expect the best.”

“Of course, start her young.”

“Look at my card.” Ramsey held up her creation.

Addison bent and admired her work. Ramsey beamed as

Addison gushed over the card, then swept her up in an exuberant

embrace and deposited her back in the chair.

“Since you’re here, would you like to discuss our progress on

the project?”

“Did you have plans that I’m disrupting? I just wanted to stop

by and apologize for the way I acted the other day.”

Addison glanced at Ramsey, who had begun work on a new

drawing. “I know this is a difficult time for you.”

Brooke shook her head, attempting to ward off the sympathy in

Addison’s voice. “I shouldn’t take my issues out on you.”

“Give yourself a break, Brooke. Healing takes a while.”

“Stop being so nice. I was rude and you didn’t deserve that.”

“Okay. Agreed.”

“Good. Well, I’ll get out of your way.”

When Brooke looked like she wanted to bolt from the room,

Addison touched her arm. Brooke’s apology, and the adorable way

she’d interacted with Ramsey, had charmed her. “You’re not disrupting

anything. Ramsey and I were planning a lazy day anyway. Coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

“It’s a beautiful day. Let’s sit outside.” Addison picked up a

mug and crossed to the French doors. “Leave it open a crack so I

can hear Ramsey.”

Brooke followed her out and they settled into the chairs at a

table under the shade of a large umbrella.

• 67 •

eRin Dutton

“So, at Ramsey’s birthday you asked about my prognosis.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind talking about it.” Addison took a deep breath and

rested her forearms on the table. She’d been involved in awareness

and fund-raising since her diagnosis and had told her story countless

times. But something about meeting Brooke’s dark eyes made her

nervous. “A little over eight years ago I found a lump in my right

breast. I put off going to the doctor, thinking, like many people

do, that it was nothing. I knew I should make an appointment but

convinced myself that I didn’t have time. When I finally did go, the

doctor found stage-three breast cancer. There’s a bit more to it than

that, but you get the idea.”

“I can guess, based on what I know about Diane’s cancer.”

“My oncologist gave me just about even odds of surviving five

years. After that point my chances got increasingly better. But first

we had to get rid of the cancer. I had a mastectomy and radiation,

then later reconstructive surgery.”

“What does that entail? The reconstructive part, I mean. Is

that question too personal?” Brooke looked uncomfortable with the

conversation.

“It’s okay. I brought it up. I have implants. Saline, specifically.”

“Implants? Both?” Addison smiled as Brooke’s gaze dipped to

her breasts.

“Yes. I’ve always been small-chested, so I convinced the doc to

pump them up a bit. Does that make me sound too shallow?”

“I—uh—”

Addison laughed. “You don’t have to answer, I was kidding.

Actually, in order to make sure they were as symmetrical as possible,

my surgeon put a small one in on the left side as well. You want to

touch them, don’t you?” Brooke shifted in her chair and Addison

almost felt guilty for teasing her. But it was worth it to see the flush

of red creep higher up Brooke’s neck and into her cheeks.

“God, I’m sorry. I’m sitting here staring at your breasts.”

“It’s okay. Everyone wants to touch them. Sometimes, on a

whim, I’ll just let strangers feel me up.”

• 68 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke planted her hands on the table and began to stand.

Addison reached across and covered her hand. Brooke flinched but

didn’t pull away.

“Please, wait. I’m kidding. Your curiosity is a natural reaction.

My boobs never got this much attention when they were real. Cancer

has some advantages.”

“How can you joke about something like that?”

Addison shrugged. “It’s habit. Sometimes it was the only way

to get through the bad days.” Even so many years later, Addison

could remember how alone she felt lying in that hospital bed after her

surgery. She’d had plenty of visitors; Charles had been there often,

and her friends and family stopped by as well. But she’d known, as

she’d smoothed her hand lightly over her heavily bandaged chest, that

none of them could truly understand what she was going through.

“Were you scared?”

“Yes.”

Though Brooke had been afraid when she’d learned of Diane’s

diagnosis, she had resolved to be strong for Diane. She hid her tears

and kept her concerns from Diane until the very end. During that

last week, she’d finally allowed herself to break down at Diane’s

bedside. But she had no idea how she would have coped had she

been in Diane’s place.

“How did you handle it?”

“What was my alternative? Not fighting was never an option.

I’d read somewhere that frame of mind could affect your treatment.

I don’t know if it’s true, but I wasn’t taking any chances so I tried

to be as positive as I could about every step. Trust me, that wasn’t

always easy.”

“I don’t know how you can be so matter-of-fact.”

“Time. I went through the anger and fear, first during treatment,

then, later, during my pregnancy. And the shadows of those feelings

are still there. But these days, I’m trying to live every moment and

hold onto hope that my cancer will never come back. You were right

about one thing, though. I didn’t know Diane as much more than

an acquaintance. I saw her in group and we talked over coffee after

group a few times.”

• 69 •

eRin Dutton

“I shouldn’t have said—”

“I’ve already accepted your apology. I didn’t know her well,

Brooke. But she seemed to possess remarkable poise, and though

her grace could be perceived as weakness, actually she was a strong

woman.”

“You didn’t know her during her first diagnosis. She was

stubborn and selfish and secretive. Does that sound like a graceful

woman to you?”

“No. It sounds like one who’s afraid—of being sick, of the

challenges she’s about to face, and of that dark force that until then

was simply a word to her: cancer. Those can be rather daunting and

isolating fears, Brooke. You’ve got to cut her some slack.” Addison

stroked her thumb in soothing circles over the back of Brooke’s

hand.Brooke didn’t trust her voice to hold up against the emotion

surging into her throat. Tears burned her eyes and she wished for

once she could just let them go. With Addison, she wanted to. As

crazy as it felt, she wished Addison would take her hand and lead

her to the hammock nearby, then hold her while she let it all go.

But though a small part of her could admit that’s what she wanted,

she couldn’t possibly ask for it. Instead, she drew her hand out of

Addison’s grasp and back to her side of the table.

“Okay, that’s enough of the depressing stuff.” Addison clapped

her hands together, as if she could dismiss the heavy mood that

easily. “Let’s talk about our progress on the fund-raiser. Stacey

will want an update when we meet with the committee Wednesday

night.” Addison picked up a notebook from the coffee table. “I’ve

been looking at the rough schedule we talked about, trying to tighten

it.” Brooke cleared her throat, grateful for a new topic. “I’ve got

confirmation on the karaoke.”

“Great. How much?” Addison clicked her pen and held it over

the page she’d been keeping their budget on.

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know the guy who hosts it.”

• 70 •

Reluctant Hope

“And he said he’d do it for free?” Addison put a check mark

and a zero next to karaoke on the budget.

“Yes. Well, his wife did. It’s not exactly free. But it won’t cost

the committee anything.”

“What do you mean?”

Brooke sighed. “Keith’s wife owns Poppi’s Cabaret on

Broadway. I had to promise I would play a new song at one of her

talent showcases, and she bartered her husband’s karaoke business

in return.”

“When is the showcase?”

“I don’t know.” Brooke waved a hand dismissively. She still

hoped she could find a way out of the commitment. “I have to set it

up with her after our event.”

“Do you have a new song?”

“Not yet.”

“Will you let me know when it is? I’d like to hear you play.”

Addison sounded tentative, and when Brooke met her eyes they

were soft and filled with uncertainty.

“Sure.” Brooke forced a casual tone, but the idea of Addison

in the audience made her nervous. Perhaps she’d be okay in a bar

full of people. But her stomach fluttered with excitement when she

imagined a more intimate setting, playing only for Addison. What

would she see in Addison’s eyes after the final strains of music?

Admiration or interest? Would she see the same warm awareness

she felt now, sitting here across from her?

Just inside the partially open door, Ramsey scraped her

chair against the floor and jarred Brooke from the sensual haze

she’d created for herself. Ramsey ran out the door and leapt into

Addison’s lap. Addison caught her without hesitation; clearly she

hadn’t experienced the same fantasy as Brooke. That was just as

well, since Brooke shouldn’t be daydreaming about Addison. She

needed to keep things all business between them until the fund-

raiser was over and she could return to her solitary life.

• 71 •

• 72 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR seven

Addison scooted her chair back and stared at her computer

screen. The numbers in front of her were starting to

blur, and she rubbed her eyes in an effort to ward off fatigue. The

offices around her had dimmed over an hour ago when most of her

coworkers left. Addison, her boss, one other broker, and his assistant

were the only ones left in the building. Her boss had spent most of

the day on the phone with lenders while Addison had orchestrated

the faxing back and forth of the necessary forms.

They’d been working with a local real-estate company on a

new high-rise in the trendy South-of-Broadway area. They were

handling the mortgages on over 60 percent of the units, all of which

were scheduled to close soon after the ribbon-cutting next week.

Addison’s boss needed the boost that success on this project would

give his career, which meant Addison would work late for as long as

necessary to meet their deadline.

In order to take some of the pressure off Addison, Charles

had arranged his schedule so he could have Ramsey this week.

She missed Ramsey, but so far she had arrived home in time to eat

dinner, get in a quick run on the treadmill, and fall into bed for five

hours, then get up the next morning to do it again.

Tonight, she had to leave soon if she hoped to make it to the

fund-raiser committee meeting, though she could probably use

work as an excuse to miss. Brooke could update Stacey on their

progress. Next week, if her schedule calmed down, she would find

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eRin Dutton

time to get together with Brooke. She’d probably been thinking

about Brooke all day only because they’d forged a truce on

Saturday.

She stretched her arms over her head and felt tightness between

her shoulder blades. If she didn’t get out of this chair, she might end

up with a permanent knot in her spine. Maybe she should go to the

meeting and start fresh tomorrow. She’d made a commitment to this

fund-raiser and—she shook her head. Now she was finding excuses

to see Brooke. The thought of waiting five or six days to be with her

again left Addison feeling hollow.

She saved the document on her computer and closed it down.

As she transferred a pile of papers from her desk to her laptop bag,

she vowed to work on them after the meeting. Then she gathered the

Chinese take-out cartons from their late lunch. Since she wouldn’t

have time to eat before the meeting, she hoped the meal would stick

with her.

Addison poked her head into her boss’s office long enough to

tell him she was leaving, then headed directly for the elevator.

❖

Brooke glanced at the door, then at her watch for about the

tenth time in fifteen minutes. Stacey Tanner was making the rounds

of the room, encouraging everyone to get some coffee and pastries

before taking a seat.

Brooke had arrived early after spending her day finding reasons

not to work. Her guitar stood silently in the corner, but her apartment

was spotless—hell, it was nearly surgical. The laundry was done,

as was her shopping list. She’d left her apartment thirty minutes

before the meeting was scheduled to start and had driven through

downtown before reaching the church and had still arrived in plenty

of time to help Stacey arrange the chairs.

Stacey wanted everyone sitting in a circle in the center of the

room. She said it would promote a more cooperative atmosphere

than if she stood in front of them in an audience-type arrangement.

Brooke wasn’t sure that was true and didn’t think Stacey could help

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Reluctant Hope

but exude a leadership vibe, but she kept her mouth shut and moved

the chairs as directed.

“Everyone, let’s get started. We have a lot to cover.” Stacey

waved her hands in the air as she strode across the room.

Brooke chose a chair as far away from the door and the cluster

of people gathered there as possible. But as the crowd spread out to

claim their own seats, those around her filled up. An older woman

nearly dropped her entire armload of folders and notebooks as she

practically fell into the chair next to Brooke. Instinctively, Brooke

stuck out a hand to steady her, but she managed to right herself on

her own. She chuckled and smoothed a hand over the nape of her

neck, brushing her white, hot-rolled curls.

“Hello there, young lady.” The man sitting on her left crowded

closer than she liked. Brooke tried not to wrinkle her nose against

the sting of too much aftershave and the pungent odor of cigarette

smoke.

She smiled tightly and nodded.

“What are you working on?” Judging from the way he squinted

at her through his thick black-rimmed glasses, he hadn’t changed

the frame style or the prescription in decades.

“Entertainment.”

He held up a handful of crumpled receipts. “I have food

vendors. But I’m almost done. You’re new this year, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I could help you. You know, show you how we do things.” He

smiled, revealing tobacco stains and tooth decay.

Brooke bit back her first response and was formulating a more

polite one when she heard the door open across the room. Addison

hurried in, mouthing a silent apology to Stacey, and took the closest

empty chair. She scanned the circle of chairs until she met Brooke’s

eyes, then smiled and raised her chin slightly.

Brooke nodded in return. “Actually, I’m working with

someone,” she replied, inching away from the man and closer to the

woman on the right.

“Ah, Miss Addison. Well, then, you’re in very capable hands

already.” He winked at her in a way that made her want to shiver.

• 75 •

eRin Dutton

She didn’t like the idea of this strange man thinking about Addison’s

hands, capable or otherwise.

Brooke was saved from answering when Stacey took control of

the meeting. Consulting a thick notebook open on her lap, she ran

down the list of subcommittees and asked each one for an update.

Brooke only half listened as members of each group detailed their

progress, relying on Addison to give their report.

Her attention kept drifting to Addison and she snuck glances

across the circle. Addison had clearly come directly from work again.

Today she wore a rust-colored blouse and chocolate-brown pantsuit.

The jacket and pants appeared to be well-cut. And though the swath

of brown argyle socks made Brooke smile, Addison’s ankles were

not what she wanted to see. She retrieved the memory of Addison’s

firm calves and the hint of thigh her pencil skirt revealed, and her

libido rose in response.

Brooke imagined herself helping Addison strip off the jacket.

She wasn’t close enough to determine if the fabric of her blouse

would rest stiffly against her body or if it would be soft and pliable,

caressing her breasts. Inevitably, Brooke thought next of sliding her

own hand inside that jacket and cupping it over Addison’s breast.

Would Addison’s nipple grow hard against her palm?

Brooke caught herself angling forward to try to get a better look

and realized that anyone in the circle could easily see her leering at

Addison. She jerked her eyes up and found Addison watching her.

Judging from Addison’s intent stare, Brooke had been found out.

But even from across the room she could see her desire mirrored in

Addison’s eyes. Knowing that Brooke was looking at her had turned

Addison on.

So instead of pulling her gaze away, Brooke let her mind wander

back to its previous path. She had her hand inside Addison’s jacket

and felt the firm press of Addison’s nipple against her fingertips, but

this time instead of passively resting it there, she imagined closing

her fingers over the pebbled tip. A steady throb began between

Brooke’s thighs, and she barely contained a groan when Addison

pulled one side of her lower lip between her teeth. Brooke stared at

her, pushing herself as deeply into her arousal as she could stand.

• 76 •

Reluctant Hope

She wanted Addison—wanted those teeth closing against her own

flesh. The throb intensified, matching the increased pounding of

Brooke’s heart.

Brooke jerked her eyes from Addison’s and shook her head. She

looked around, but the meeting appeared to have gone on as normal.

What just happened? She’d never lost control of her thoughts so

quickly. Her body still hummed with need and her face felt flushed.

Her own nipples felt impossibly tight and sensitive when they

rubbed against the cotton of her T-shirt. She crossed her arms over

her chest and took a slow breath, attempting to calm her system.

Focus on other things. The woman to Brooke’s right shifted

and her chair creaked in response. Around the circle, a man hunched

over a notebook, apparently taking extensive notes on everything

Stacey discussed. He scribbled quickly, as if in a hurry to get down

every word. What in the world could Stacey be saying that was that

important? Brooke hadn’t heard a word in several minutes. The

young woman next to him tapped her foot impatiently and snapped

her gum every few seconds. The man glanced at her in annoyance

after a particularly loud snap.

Brooke’s pulse felt slower and she risked another glance

at Addison to test her reaction. She still registered a trickle of

awareness, but her body didn’t immediately go into overdrive.

She’d been relieved to see Addison walk in, partly so she

wouldn’t have to talk in front of the group, but also because she

wanted to see her. They were stuck together until the fund-raiser,

so though she couldn’t date Addison, she could still enjoy looking.

Addison was smart and interesting, and Brooke liked talking to her.

She also had cancer, Brooke reminded herself. People like Addison

tacked that word “survivor” on the end, and maybe that made

them feel better. But the fact remained, there was no cure. Despite

what doctors said about odds and survival rates and clear margins,

they had very little control over the disease, which could inflict its

damage again indiscriminately and without warning.

Despite what had just happened, Brooke couldn’t allow anything

to develop between them. In spite of their obvious attraction, she

certainly didn’t have to give in to it.

• 77 •

eRin Dutton

The beginning of a headache blossomed behind her eyes and,

rather than the thoughts in her head, she blamed creepy-aftershave

guy. She took as few shallow breaths as absolutely necessary. If she

thought she could scoot her chair closer to the older woman without

making that loud scraping noise, she would have.

Finally, Stacey reached the end of her list. She talked for

several more minutes, about her expectations for the next meeting,

before dismissing everyone. Steeling herself, Brooke left her chair

and headed across the room.

“Hey,” she said as she reached Addison’s side.

“Hi. I’m sorry I was late. Work has been insane this week.”

Addison apparently intended to act like the sultry exchange hadn’t

happened, and Brooke was content to do the same.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“You could have saved me a seat.” Addison’s grin let on that

she was teasing.

“I was going to say, you should have been on time so I wouldn’t

have had to sit over there.” Brooke lowered her voice so no one

would overhear, though most of the crowd had begun to file out the

door toward the parking lot. “That guy’s weird.”

“Mr. Poole?”

“Friend of yours?”

“He came to our group once—”

“Is everyone in that damn group?”

Addison continued as if Brooke hadn’t spoken. “But never

came back. He lost his wife a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry for that. Although it clearly hasn’t stopped him from

smoking. He’s still creepy.”

“Brooke Donahue.” Addison chastised her, swatting Brooke’s

arm lightly. Then she smiled, deciding not to examine how just

talking to Brooke could make her feel so good. “Yes, he is. I’ve

caught him leering at me more than once.” Not quite in the way you

leered at me earlier, she wanted to add. Mid-meeting, she’d glanced

at Brooke and found Brooke looking at her with clear intention in

her eyes. She’d had little doubt what Brooke was thinking about.

• 78 •

Reluctant Hope

Though she wasn’t surprised that her body had reacted, how quickly

it did so was unexpected.

“He’s probably looking for his next wife,” Brooke said.

“Stop.”

“What, you don’t want to be Mrs. Aftershave? Maybe he has a

fortune stashed under his mattress and would someday leave you a

very rich widow.”

“Brooke.”

“Okay.” Brooke held up her hands in surrender. “So why is

your job so crazy right now?” Brooke asked as she and Addison fell

in with the last of the stragglers and exited the church.

Addison shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about work right

now. Tell me what you did today.”

“Nothing.”

Addison laughed.

“Really. Not much productive, anyway—some cleaning and

errands.”

“No writing?”

“I’ve been having a bit of trouble in that department lately.”

They had reached Addison’s car and Brooke opened the

driver’s door for her. Addison got in and rolled the window down

before swinging the door shut.

“Would you like to get a drink?” Addison had no idea why

she’d blurted the invitation, but if Brooke accepted, she could easily

ignore the pile of papers in her computer bag.

“Sure.”

“Okay. Where should we go?”

“Well, I’m not far from here. I’ve got a decent bottle of Riesling

in the fridge if you’re interested.”

“Absolutely. Riesling is my favorite. I’ll follow you.” Addison

didn’t hesitate. She’d recalled the arousal in Brooke’s eyes, but

rather than feeling apprehensive, she was intrigued. Brooke’s gaze

had lingered on her chest, but she doubted Brooke could accurately

conjure up the image of what Addison’s breasts really looked like.

And since Addison hadn’t let any woman see them since her surgery,

• 79 •

eRin Dutton

she was certain she had enough self-control to keep Brooke from

becoming the first.

❖

Brooke pushed open the door and flipped switches as she led

Addison inside. Recessed lighting illuminated spots on the honeyed

hardwood floors.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll get the wine.” Brooke headed for

the kitchen.

Addison stepped into the open living area. “You have a

beautiful loft.” The outer walls were adorned with large, vibrantly

colored abstracts. A few pieces of furniture, made of leather, metal,

and glass, were scattered around the room.

“A musician I’ve worked with a few times owns the place. The

décor is mostly his. He spends most of the year on the road. But it’s

a great building in a prime location, and he doesn’t want to part with

it. I take care of it for him and pay a very reasonable rent.” Brooke

handed Addison a glass of wine, set the bottle on the coffee table,

and settled into the plush leather sofa.

Addison continued to walk around the outside of the large

space. The furniture and the artwork weren’t Brooke’s, but surely

something here would provide a clue about who Brooke was.

Maybe she just needed to look a little harder. She found promise in

an acoustic guitar perched on a stand in the corner.

She reached out to touch the guitar, but drew her hand back

before making contact. “May I?”

“Yes. Do you play?”

“No.” Though she couldn’t play any type of instrument, Addison

had always admired creative people. The ability to inspire a mood

with music was amazing on its own, but some artists possessed such

talent that she was convinced it must be a gift from God.

Carefully, she curled her fingers over the head of the guitar,

tracing the scrolled letters that identified the manufacturer with her

thumb. She ran her index finger down one of the larger strings, and

the texture of the metal made a zinging noise as it rubbed against her

skin. “It’s beautiful.”

• 80 •

Reluctant Hope

“It’s a ’71 Martin. Diane got it for me for Christmas about

seven years ago.”

“That’s an incredible gift.”

“I know. It was perfect and I’ve never been able to match it.”

“Gifts aren’t supposed to be competitive.”

“That’s what she said.” Brooke stood and crossed the room, her

socks whispering on the hardwood floors. She stopped close enough

for Addison to smell the woodsy scent of her perfume.

“She was right. I bet she really enjoyed giving you this, and

that was enough of a gift in return.”

Brooke touched the guitar, her fingers resting next to Addison’s.

“I hope it was.” The shadows in the corner warred with the glow of the

streetlight streaming through the window and enhanced the angles

of Brooke’s face. Sadness filled her eyes, and the smudges under

them made Addison wonder when she’d last had an undisturbed

night’s sleep.

“I’m sure it was.” Addison covered Brooke’s hand and stroked

the back of it with her thumb. Brooke’s skin was warm and soft.

She’d intended to comfort Brooke, but she also liked the light-

headed feeling she got when she touched her. She caressed the back

of Brooke’s hand and touched the tender inside of her wrist.

Brooke slipped her hand free, but Addison wasn’t sure if she

did so in reaction to her touch, because she immediately picked

up the guitar. She cradled it against her body, wrapped her fingers

around the neck, and rested her other hand against the strings.

“Now I want to hear you play even more.” Watching Brooke

handle her guitar was sexy, and Addison was dying to know what

she could do with it. Her hands were capable and confident, and they

seemed to be meant to hold the instrument.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t had much luck with it lately. Maybe I’ll

snap out of it soon.” Brooke put the guitar back on the stand, and

Addison sensed a perceptible difference in her as the connection

was severed. Whether it was any guitar or particularly this one,

something in Brooke transformed when she held it. She became

confident and more centered.

• 81 •

eRin Dutton

Brooke returned to the couch, picked up her wine, and took

a sip. She appeared calm, but Addison thought she noticed a tiny

tremor in the hand that held the glass.

Addison wandered across the room and stopped in front of a

bookshelf that reminded her of a ladder leaning against the wall.

The shelf at eye-level held framed photographs of Brooke and

Diane, as well as one of Brooke wearing a graduation cap, flanked

by an older couple.

“Your parents?” she asked, picking up the frame.

Brooke shared similar features with the man in the photo—

the shape of their eyes and the uneven lift of the mouth when they

smiled.

“Yes.”

“Do you see them often?”

Brooke shook her head. “They’ve both passed away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That picture is at my high-school graduation. You can

probably tell they had me late in life. Mom had just turned forty and

had pretty much given up on having children when she found out

she was pregnant with me.”

Addison returned the picture to the shelf and continued her

search of the bookshelf. She passed up a collection of vases she

could already tell weren’t Brooke’s, but paused when she found a

small sound system and a collection of CDs.

“Are these yours?”

“Yes.”

“You have eclectic taste. Not alphabetized?” Pink resided next

to Chris Botti.

“Nope.”

“How do you find what you’re looking for?”

“I know where they are.”

Addison ran her fingers along a row of jewel cases. “I don’t

think I even know where my CDs are. They’re all packed in boxes

somewhere. Everything I want to listen to is on my iPod. And these

days I just download the individual songs I want.”

• 82 •

Reluctant Hope

“But then you miss out on the joy of finding an unexpected

gem of a song that may never make it to radio.”

“Like one of yours?”

“Maybe.” Brooke laughed. “I never thought anyone would

consider me old-fashioned for having CDs.”

“What’s this?” Addison slid out one of the thin plastic cases

and flipped it over. “Donahue’s Greatest Hits?” she read off the

cover. “Are these yours?”

“Yeah. It’s all the stuff I’ve written that other artists have

recorded. Diane made it for me.”

“Do you mind if I listen to it?”

“Take it.” Brooke forced a bit of disinterest even though the

idea of Addison hearing her music made her jittery. She hadn’t

worried about anyone’s opinion of it since early in her career, but

she wanted to impress Addison.

“Thanks.” Addison sighed as she sank into the sofa. She

plucked something from the back of her head and her hair tumbled

free. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve had an excruciatingly long day

and I need just a bit of comfort.”

“Make yourself comfortable.” Brooke kept her own hair short

so she wouldn’t have to figure out how to make it defy gravity with

just a pin or two. She clenched her fists quickly then forced them

open, trying to hide the urge to bury her hands in Addison’s shiny

auburn strands.

Addison kicked off her shoes and propped her sock-feet up

next to Brooke’s on the glass edge of the coffee table. She rolled her

head and reached up to grab the back of her neck. Brooke wished

she could help knead the tension away, but she wasn’t sure she could

control herself if she touched Addison.

“Tell me why you’re not working. Are you not feeling

inspired?” Addison asked.

“Not especially.”

“What do you usually do when that happens?”

“It’s never been a big problem—at least not for this long.

Usually, if I take a break, then go back to it fresh, I can produce

something.”

• 83 •

eRin Dutton

“That’s not helping this time?”

“No.” Brooke was growing uncomfortable with the direction

of the conversation. She didn’t want to discuss her shortcomings.

“What are you supposed to be working on?”

“It’s not a matter of a certain project. If I don’t write, I have

nothing to sell, and I don’t get paid.”

Addison sat up and rubbed her palms together. She angled in

her corner of the sofa, facing Brooke more squarely. “So, let’s get

you paid. Do you have an idea for a topic?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe I can be of use. Let’s see, there are the obvious breakup

and makeup songs, right? But maybe you should do something

different. What about—”

“I don’t need you to fix this, Addison.” Brooke sounded angrier

than she’d intended.

“I was just trying to help.”

“I know.” Brooke drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know. You

can’t do anything about this. I need to work it out myself.”

“Ah, so you’re the I-can-do-everything-on-my-own type. Don’t

even bother trying to deny it. I’ve met your kind before.”

“My kind?”

Addison smiled. “I guess that sounded bad, huh.”

“You weren’t wrong. Stereotyping, maybe, but not wrong. I

guess I am pretty independent.”

“Okay. But will you promise to let me know if I can do

anything?”

“Yes.” Brooke didn’t expect to be making that call soon. But

she did realize she’d been rude again. She shoved a hand through

her hair in frustration. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being a bitch but I

can’t seem to stop myself.” She’d been short-tempered lately. Just

when she thought she was doing better, something would remind

her of Diane and the wound felt fresh all over again. She didn’t have

any other friends and had been floundering without Diane to talk to

and spend time with.

“You know, it’s difficult to get mad at you when you’re calling

yourself a bitch.”

• 84 •

Reluctant Hope

“Do I need to make you another apology card?”

Addison smiled. Brooke’s puppy-dog look absolutely charmed

her. “I told you I wasn’t letting you get away with that again.”

“That’s right. Am I up to expensive gifts now?”

“Not yet. I’ll let you know.” Addison stretched her arm across

the back of the sofa and let her fingers rest inches from the back of

Brooke’s neck. She could easily close the gap and find out if her hair

was as soft as it looked.

“Yeah, be sure to, because I’ll need some time to save up for

the diamonds.”

“How much time?”

“What?”

“In a relationship. How quickly do you get serious?”

“Is this a personal inquiry, because I have to say—”

“No, of course not.” Though Addison had sensed the distance

Brooke purposely put between them, she didn’t want to hear Brooke

say she wasn’t interested in her. She hadn’t meant that she wanted

to be involved with her anyway. “It was just a general question, a

conversation starter.”

“Oh, well, I don’t know. I’ve never been in what I’d call a

serious relationship.”

“Never?”

“No. I suppose you have.”

“A few. Before I got sick.”

“So what happened?”

“Oh, no, you’re not turning this around on me. I asked about

your past.” Addison shoved Brooke’s shoulder gently.

“I don’t really have a past. I’ve dated a little, but nothing

serious.”

“So you’re a serial dater, never committing.”

“It doesn’t sound like a good thing when you say it like that.”

Brooke shook her head. “I don’t know that I can’t commit. Maybe I

just haven’t met the right woman yet.”

“That sounds like a line. Next you’ll be telling me that I’m the

right woman.”

“Ha. You couldn’t be further from the right woman.”

• 85 •

eRin Dutton

“Wow. Okay, now I’m insulted.”

“I just mean, I’m not looking to get involved.”

“That’s not what you said.”

Brooke sighed. “You’re right. I don’t think you and I should

get involved.”

“You don’t think we’d be compatible?” Addison knew she was

inching closer to danger, even as she inched closer to Brooke on the

sofa. She touched Brooke’s neck, her fingers light against the downy

edge of her hairline.

“I don’t think we would—I don’t think—it’s not a good idea.”

“Well, I know that. Between work and Charles and Ramsey, I’ve

got my life on a good schedule and don’t need anything disrupting

it. And you’re too afraid—”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Of what?”

“Of caring for someone and losing them. And you want to get as

far away from cancer as possible. You certainly couldn’t accomplish

that with me.”

Addison waited for a denial but none came. She hadn’t realized

how true the statement was until she said it. If it weren’t for Brooke’s

promise to Diane, she would have run from everything cancer-

related months ago. And Addison had very visible reminders of her

history in the scars that lined her breasts.

Brooke stared at her hands, clenched into fists and resting on

her thighs. Addison could feel Brooke withdrawing from her, and

suddenly she was desperate to keep that from happening. Hoping

a physical connection would help, she stroked along the collar of

Brooke’s shirt and up the side of her neck. She toyed with Brooke’s

earlobe, and Brooke tilted her head almost imperceptibly toward

her. “And I must be crazy because knowing all of that doesn’t keep

me from wanting to kiss you right now.” Addison’s own frankness

stunned her, but she couldn’t have held the words back.

“Addison. Don’t.” Brooke’s words seemed to scrape through

her throat, tight and rough.

“You don’t feel it?”

• 86 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Brooke’s words broke through and Addison

jerked her hand back. Had she imagined the entire scenario? No,

she hadn’t. There was something between them, and because she

could barely restrain herself from kissing Brooke, she was shocked

that Brooke could so easily dismiss whatever this connection was.

“Maybe the wine is going to my head.”

Brooke looked down at Addison’s still-full glass but didn’t call

her out on the obvious lie. Addison slid back to her end of the sofa,

hoping some space between them would clear her mind. Grabbing

her thighs, she squeezed them, trying to press away the feel of

Brooke’s skin. She hadn’t been thinking and probably could have

been okay with being that impulsive, but apparently Brooke wasn’t.

• 87 •

• 88 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR eigHt

I was a little surprised to get your invite,” Addison said as

Brooke got out of her car and approached the bench Addison

occupied at the edge of the parking lot.

“Why?” Brooke carried a large brown paper bag in one hand

and two bottles of water in the other.

“I wasn’t sure how we left things last night.” Addison had gone

home with the uneasy feeling that they’d crossed a line that might

make things awkward between them. She’d been surprised to get

Brooke’s mid-morning text inviting her to have lunch in the park.

“Things got a little intense last night. But I like spending time

with you and I don’t want a small misunderstanding to stand in the

way of that.”

“A misunderstanding?” Addison thought they’d understood

each other a little too well.

“Addison, I’m attracted to you. If I tried to claim otherwise I’d

be lying. But I meant what I said, I don’t want to get involved.”

“You don’t want to get involved with me.”

“However you want to put it.”

“It’s an important distinction. You aren’t necessarily against

relationships, just those that involve people who’ve had cancer or

might someday have cancer. You’re really cutting into your dating

pool, you know.”

“Let’s sit down.” Brooke nodded toward a nearby picnic table.

“How about over here in the shade?”

• 89 •

eRin Dutton

Addison took the bottles of water from Brooke and followed

her to the table. “At least with me you’d know the risks. There’s no

guarantee anyone will remain healthy.”

“All the more reason to avoid relationships altogether. Why are

we even talking about this? You said you don’t want to be with me

either.”

“I said that I didn’t think it was a good idea, not that I didn’t

want to.”

Brooke set down the bag and stared at her. “Well, do you?”

“I don’t—not want to.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s complicated. I’m attracted to you, more than anyone I’ve

met in so long. But it really has been so long since I’ve been with

anyone. I’m comfortable with my life and you make me decidedly

un comfortable. Then I always have to consider how my actions will

affect Ramsey, and I’m not sure this is a good time for her to have

two mommies, and—”

“Two mommies? Whoa, Addison, slow down. You’re rambling

again. God, I hope you are.”

Addison took a deep breath. “Yes, I am. I was trying to say that

I didn’t expect to feel like this. But it doesn’t matter that much how

I feel, because you’re still grieving for Diane. And if you ever do let

another woman in, it won’t be right now.”

“Addison—”

“Brooke, we’ll be spending time working together on this

project. After that we can go back to our separate lives if we want

to. Or not. Can we please leave it at that?”

Brooke looked like she wanted to say something else, but in the

end she simply nodded and sat down at one side of the picnic table.

Addison sat across from her and switched to a more neutral

topic. “Have you found any bands for the local-talent portion?”

“Actually, I may have. I’m waiting to hear back from a couple of

acts. And there’s another one I’m not sure about.” Brooke unpacked

clear plastic containers of tossed salad loaded with vegetables. She

also set out two wrapped sandwiches and a Styrofoam cup of soup.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” she said in response to Addison’s

curious look.

• 90 •

Reluctant Hope

“Salad’s fine.” Addison took the offered container. “Why aren’t

you sure about the band?”

“I’ve never heard of them. Poppi says they’re going to be big,

though, and I trust her judgment. They just signed a record deal.

She booked them in her bar this weekend, and she wouldn’t do that

unless they were good.”

“Maybe you should go check them out.”

Brooke passed Addison a handful of various dressing packets

and unwrapped one of the sandwiches. “That’s a good idea. Let’s go

down to Poppi’s Friday night.”

“Actually, I said maybe you should go.”

“Come with me. What if I need a second opinion?”

“You already said Poppi likes them. You are the second opinion.

I appreciate the invite, but I’m not into the bar scene.”

“Neither am I. Come on, Mama. When was the last time you

had an evening out, just for fun, that didn’t involve kids?”

“I get out all the time. And don’t ever call me Mama again.”

“Fund-raisers and support groups don’t count.”

Brooke looked at her expectantly, but she didn’t have an answer.

By the time she focused on work, Ramsey, and her charitable efforts,

she didn’t have a lot of time left for herself. But she wouldn’t change

a thing about her life.

“It’s okay to have a few hours of fun every now and then,”

Brooke said, as if reading Addison’s mind.

“I happen to enjoy my fund-raisers and the support group.”

“I’m not judging. Okay, maybe it sounded like I was, but a

night out might be a good change of pace. Besides, we’re checking

out a band for the fund-raiser, so it’s business, not pleasure. Come

to the bar with me, please?”

“Okay.” Brooke had a sound argument, but ultimately the

way she said “pleasure” had made Addison give in. Maybe she’d

imagined that Brooke’s voice got softer as it caressed the word, as

if implying a promise.

She was also curious to see the private, reserved Brooke there.

Would she act differently in a bar? Somehow she couldn’t imagine

Brooke as the center of the party, wherever she was.

• 91 •

eRin Dutton

❖

Brooke stepped inside Poppi’s Cabaret and immediately

wished she’d asked the band for a private audition. But, in addition

to her and Addison’s opinion, she wanted to gauge the crowd’s

reaction to the music. And tonight she’d have plenty of opportunity

to do that. Every table was occupied, as well as nearly every inch of

floor space. A Friday night at Poppi’s guaranteed a good time, good

music, and drink specials that beat every other bar on Broadway.

The din of conversation overtook the music that had spilled out

the open door as Brooke wove toward the back of the room, stopping

several times to select a new route around a particularly tight bunch

of people. Brooke wedged between two patrons and propped

her elbows on the bar. Poppi waved from behind the bar, then

dodged two bartenders as she made her way to Brooke’s end of the

counter.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Poppi said as she set a longneck

bottle in front of Brooke.

“I just had to see this hot new sensation you’ve been bragging

about.”

“Good. Get comfortable, they’re on in ten.”

Brooke nodded and Poppi hurried away to help another

customer. Brooke scanned the eclectic mix of people around her.

Poppi’s Cabaret enticed the tourists in from the crowded street

outside, but it also drew a good number of locals. Among the trendy

T-shirts and worn jeans, Brooke recognized several Music Row

execs obviously trying to blend in. None of them wanted aspiring

artists to approach them. Instead, they probably hoped to evaluate

some up-and-coming talent, then escape quietly.

Scanning the crowd again, Brooke saw that Addison had just

stepped inside. She wore a crisp white button-down and dark slacks

that made Brooke feel sloppy in her T-shirt and loose-fit blue jeans.

Addison had nearly as much trouble crossing the room as Brooke had,

but she finally squeezed between the two people closest to Brooke.

“You didn’t think I bailed on you, did you?” Addison raised her

voice over the noise of the crowd.

• 92 •

Reluctant Hope

“I wondered. What can I get you to drink?”

“Rum and Diet Coke, please.”

Brooke nodded and signaled the bartender. Someone bumped

Addison from behind, and she slammed her hand against the bar

next to Brooke to steady herself.

“If I’d known it would be like this I might have stood you up,”

Addison said.

“Ouch. I guess I’m not charming enough to be worth braving

a mob for.” Flirting with Addison was so easy, and seeing Addison

smile in response warmed Brooke from the inside out.

When the bartender set Addison’s drink on the bar, Brooke

picked it up and handed it to her, then replaced it with a few bills.

Addison reached for her purse, but Brooke waved her off.

“You can get the next round, if it makes you feel better.”

“This place is crazy. I haven’t been downtown for an evening

out in a long time.”

“I don’t do it often either.”

“Isn’t it necessary, given your profession?” Addison asked.

“Not anymore. When I started out, yeah, I had to play a lot

of writers’ nights and open mics. But I’ve sold enough songs now

that I just go to the studio and do the demo. That’s the extent of my

performance these days, thank goodness.”

“Don’t you want to be onstage?”

“Contrary to what Hollywood movies portray, not all

songwriters want to be country stars. I’m happy writing and leaving

the rest to someone else. I only perform when I need to.”

Addison had assumed Brooke wanted stardom and just hadn’t

attained it, yet. But maybe she’d been wrong. Now that she’d gotten

to know Brooke better, “fame-seeking” didn’t fit anyway.

“So this is where you’ll be performing after the fund-raiser.”

Brooke pressed her lips together and nodded.

Addison was beginning to remember why she avoided

downtown whenever possible. Parking was far too expensive, the

bars were too packed, and, judging by the bills Brooke had thrown

on the bar and the taste of the rum and Coke in her hand, the drinks

weren’t worth what they charged for them. She got bumped again

• 93 •

eRin Dutton

and stumbled forward, nearly spilling her drink all over Brooke. She

looked over her shoulder and shook her head in exasperation as the

offender continued on her way unfazed.

“Come here.” Brooke grabbed her arm. She pulled her close

and spun her around, in one smooth motion, then tucked her tightly

against her.

“Brooke—” Rebelling against the arousal building at the feel

of Brooke’s breasts against her back, Addison tried to step away but

Brooke held on.

“Shh. Be still, there’s barely any room in here.” Brooke spoke

in Addison’s ear, her breath brushing Addison’s heated skin. She

pointed at the stage, which was really just a platform raised less than

a foot off the floor. “They’re about to start.”

A sandy-haired man, wearing a pearl-buttoned cowboy shirt

and tight jeans, stepped up to the microphone and introduced his

band as Grove Tree Road. He thanked everyone for coming out, then

immediately launched into the first song. They had a great sound,

clean and not too complicated. The man’s steady tenor carried

along the lively pace of the country-rock song. Soon the crowd was

cheering and clapping along.

“They’re good,” Addison said over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Poppi was right.”

“Do you think we can get them?” Addison turned her head and

found her face very close to Brooke’s. So close that, even in the dim

light of the bar, she could make out the golden flecks in Brooke’s

dark-brown irises.

“We’ll find out later. For now, let’s enjoy the music.”

Addison tried to focus on the band as they segued into the next

song, another quick number that featured a solo by the female lead

guitarist. The woman swayed with the music while her fingers flew

over the strings. She closed her eyes and rocked her hips against her

guitar.

Addison was increasingly aware of Brooke against her backside

and just how little effort it would take to thrust back against Brooke.

When she moved to let someone pass in front of her, Brooke’s thighs

pressed into hers. Her pulse quickened and a throb began between

• 94 •

Reluctant Hope

her own thighs. She tightened her muscles against the ache and

silently chastised herself for getting so turned on. Brooke probably

had no idea the effect she was having, but Addison wished she had

more control given she was in a crowded public place.

❖

“Thanks for coming out, folks. We sure do appreciate you

spending your Friday night with us.” Poppi took the stage, her voice

carrying easily over the crowd without a microphone. “Now, I’d

love it if y’all could help me convince a friend of mine to come up

and treat us to a song.”

Addison heard Brooke groan and felt the vibration against her

back. Brooke stiffened and Addison suspected she was looking for

the door and plotting an escape.

“Brooke, where are you?”

“Any chance you could hide me?” Brooke asked.

“Come on, Brooke,” Poppi called from the stage. “Maybe a

little applause will persuade her. What about it, folks, do you want to

hear from a local songwriter?” Poppi waved her arms dramatically

and the audience clapped and whistled. “Brooke Donahue, your

public awaits.”

“I don’t think you’re going to get out of it,” Addison said.

“Damn it.” Brooke moved toward the stage, the previously

uncooperative crowd now parting to make an aisle. Brooke stepped

up and turned to the Grove Tree Road guitarist. “Can I borrow an ax?”

The woman plugged in a guitar, then handed it over. Brooke

thanked her as she slipped the strap over her head and made a quick

adjustment.

“How about another hand for Grove Tree Road?” Brooke said

into the microphone. She waited a second for the applause to wane.

“You guys are great.” She looked at the band gathered by the edge

of the stage. “And I really don’t want to follow you.”

She strummed the strings experimentally, then took a deep

breath and laid her fingers confidently against them. Addison could

almost see her drawing on a reserve of strength to put on a front.

• 95 •

eRin Dutton

When she introduced the song, Addison almost didn’t

recognize her. Brooke actually seemed outgoing as she talked about

the process of writing the song with two guys Addison had never

heard of. Judging from the murmurs around Addison, their names

were known in these circles. Addison recognized the song from the

CD she’d borrowed from Brooke earlier in the week.

Trying to get a closer look, Addison worked her way toward

the stage. Brooke’s fingers moved competently over the strings,

deftly picking out the rhythm. Her voice was strong and a little

raspy. The sexy, rough-around-the-edges quality that Addison had

occasionally noticed in her speaking voice was amplified when she

sang. If Brooke was nervous, she hid it well. Addison didn’t detect

any tension in her posture. As Addison reached the edge of the

stage, Brooke made eye contact with her. Brooke’s expression was

dark and unreadable, lacking the passion Addison had sensed from

the band before her.

Minutes later, as Brooke strummed the final chord and

acknowledged the applause with a raised hand before turning away

from the microphone, Addison slipped past the few people who

separated her from Brooke.

“Thanks,” Brooke said as she handed the guitar back to the

woman still waiting there.

“No problem.”

“Playing it safe, kid?” Poppi asked as Brooke stepped down.

“We had a deal. I told you I didn’t have anything new, yet.”

Brooke’s words didn’t contain a hint of apology.

Poppi looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she made

an excuse about being needed across the bar and walked away.

Brooke turned to the members of Grove Tree Road. “Great job,

guys.” She shook hands with the lead singer.

“You, too.” He smiled.

“I actually came down here to see you play.” She touched

Addison’s arm, drawing her into the circle of their conversation.

“This is Addison Hunt. We’re organizing the entertainment for a

local fund-raiser to benefit cancer awareness. Who can we talk to

about potentially booking you?”

• 96 •

Reluctant Hope

“You can talk to me.” He pulled a card from his pocket and

handed it to her.

“Tyler Cason,” Brooke read. “No booking agent?”

“He’s a control freak,” the guitarist interjected.

“Whatever. It works for us,” Tyler shot back. “E-mail me the

information about the benefit and I’ll check our schedule. We’ll help

out if we can.”

❖

“How about a walk along Broadway?” Addison asked as she

followed Brooke toward the door to the street.

Brooke shook her head. She’d spent the last three hours

cramped into this bar and was ready to go home. “It’s almost as

packed out there as it is in here. I’ll kill someone if I don’t get away

from these crowds.”

Brooke had barely taken two more steps when a tall, curvaceous

brunette stepped boldly in front of her. “Hi there.”

“Hello.”

“Brooke, was it?” The woman stuck out a manicured hand, her

skin unexpectedly cool when Brooke grasped it.

“Yes.”

“I saw you onstage. You were incredible.” She pushed her

shoulders back and stuck her chest out, as if she needed to make

sure Brooke saw the ample cleavage that her tight black tank top

displayed. Brooke could feel Addison watching them over her right

shoulder. She didn’t want this woman flirting with her in front of

Addison, but she was also irritated that she was so aware of Addison

and wanted to prove to herself that Addison didn’t matter.

“I don’t know about incredible, but thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” The woman sidled closer, practically

purring the word pleasure. “We’ve been here every night this week

and this is the first time I’ve seen you. Don’t tell me we came to

Nashville and missed another hot-spot in town where you’ve been

hiding out?”

• 97 •

eRin Dutton

“Ah, no. I don’t perform much.” Brooke could feel Addison

fidgeting behind her. “So you’re not a local?”

“No, I’m from Illinois. We’re leaving tomorrow.” That sentence

carried an implicit promise for Brooke. She was gone tomorrow,

but they could have tonight if Brooke wanted to. “Can I buy you a

drink?”

“Thank you. But I’m on my way out.” Brooke couldn’t lead

this woman on, despite needing to keep Addison out of her head.

“I could be on my way out, too. Do you want to go together?”

She moved closer and, blocking her actions from the view of the rest

of the bar, she ran her fingertips lightly down the center of Brooke’s

chest.Brooke didn’t even consider the offer. She was an attractive

woman, probably more so when she didn’t smell like 100 proof. But

Brooke didn’t take strangers home from the bar, not even to prove

a point.

“Not tonight,” Brooke said, brushing off the woman’s touch.

“But I want you to serenade me.” She wavered, and her eyes

rolled back for a second before she regained her balance.

“You’re not driving, are you?”

“If I say yes, are you going to take me home with you?”

“I’ll make sure you get safely in a cab.”

The woman snorted, suddenly seeming much more sober.

“Forget it.”

She stumbled away toward the bar, and Brooke hoped it wasn’t

for another drink. She watched long enough to see the woman

practically fall into the arms of another woman, and after a moment

their interaction made it clear they were friends. Brooke continued

toward the door, confident the woman was taken care of.

Brooke almost wished she could wipe away thoughts of

Addison with anonymous sex. That sure would make her life easier.

But she wasn’t the bad-girl type, and if she tried to pretend she was,

the way her stomach flipped at the simple feel of Addison tugging

lightly at her shirt as she tried not to lose her in the crowd would

prove her wrong.

• 98 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR nine

Where did you park?” Brooke asked, as they stepped

outside and away from the noise of the bar. Without the

auditory over-stimulations, Brooke’s other senses took in downtown

Nashville. Neon and streetlights cast multicolored circles of light

through the night. And behind the mixed odors of food from the

bars lining Broadway, she could detect the stale smell of the city—

sewer and exhaust, made heavy by the humidity trapped within the

corridors between high-rise buildings.

“In a lot around the corner on Fourth Avenue.”

“I’ll go with you.” They walked in silence for a moment.

Addison’s shoes clicked against the sidewalk, making a staccato

beat over the sandpaper crunch of Brooke’s rubber-soled Doc

Martens. Brooke tried to concentrate on that rhythm, rather than

that of her heart thumping. Residual nerves from being on stage

had adrenaline still leaking through her. An unexpected layer of

anxiety rolled over her. She didn’t want to ask Addison’s opinion

of her impromptu performance, but it mattered to her what Addison

thought.

“So?” She finally gave in to her desire to hear Addison’s

reaction.

“What?”

“Well, you wanted to hear me play. What did you think?”

“I recognized the song from your CD. You didn’t look nervous

at all.”

• 99 •

eRin Dutton

“I’m always a little queasy.”

“You fake it well.”

“I’ve had some practice at that.”

“Faking?”

“Yeah.” Brooke had felt like a fraud before. She’d sold her

first song while still in college. As a music major, she spent four

years getting pumped up with praise for her talent and her bright

future. But in the years since, she’d failed to deliver on either of

those possibilities, never quite matching the success of that first

song. Should she be relieved that Addison hadn’t said she sucked, or

worried that she didn’t seem impressed? “You listened to my CD?”

“I did.”

“What did you think?”

“It was—nice.”

Brooke forced a laugh, though disappointment shrouded her.

“Nice? That’s a diplomatic response. What did you really think?”

“Honestly?” Addison drew her keys from her pocket and hit

the button for the power locks. She stopped next to her car and faced

Brooke.

“Of course.”

“I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but it left me with the

feeling that I was waiting for something more.”

“Something more.”

“I wish I could be more specific, but I don’t know much about

music.”

“Well, you know what you like. And my CD was apparently

not it.”

“Brooke—”

“It’s okay.”

“Something seemed to be missing. But what do I know? I told

you, I don’t even listen to country music. It’s probably very good

and I just have no idea what to listen for. I mean, I—”

“Addison.”

“Yes.”

“You’re rambling again.”

“Oh.”

• 100 •

Reluctant Hope

They stood there for what seemed like several minutes, looking

at each other over the hood of Addison’s SUV. The sounds of the

city filled the silence between them, the distant hum of car tires on

asphalt, the clamor of at least two different bands spilling out of bars

nearby, and the occasional horn honking.

“Do you want a ride to your car?” Addison asked.

“Sure.” Brooke could easily have walked the two blocks to the

lot she’d parked in, but she didn’t want to say good-bye just yet.

After she got inside, though, she wondered if she’d made a

mistake in accepting a ride. The interior of the car was only dimly

lit from the streetlights outside, and she could smell Addison’s

intoxicating perfume. When Addison started the car, the radio came

on to a local top-40 station and she touched a button on the steering

wheel that silenced it. Brooke wished she’d left it on so the music

would buffer the intimacy between them. She liked to study people’s

hands, and she watched Addison’s as she steered into traffic. They

were slim and refined, her fingers long and tipped with lightly tinted

nails. She held the wheel gently, applying enough pressure to elicit

the desired response.

“That girl in the bar seemed to like your music,” Addison said

suddenly.

“What?” Brooke tore her mind away from Addison’s hands and

focused on trying to decipher her tone. She had no business thinking

about Addison’s touch anyway.

“The brunette who stopped you as we were leaving.”

“She was drunk.”

“She was hitting on you. If you weren’t there with me, would

you have taken her home?”

“I don’t take advantage of drunk women.”

Addison sighed. She thought Brooke might be trying to avoid

saying yes, but Addison needed to hear it. In the bar, she’d been

confused by the way Brooke seemed to be basking in the woman’s

attention one moment, then completely backing off the next. If she

could somehow see Brooke as a playgirl, she might be able to shake

her growing attraction to her. “Okay. If she was sober and I wasn’t

there, would you have left with her?”

• 101 •

eRin Dutton

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I just wouldn’t have. What difference does it make?”

“Are you afraid of being outed? Country music has a reputation

for being a bit conservative, doesn’t it?”

“It does. But things have changed in the past year or so. The

men will be slow to come around, but the lesbians in country music

are starting to come out. Besides, songwriters aren’t as high-profile

as artists. Even the award-winning ones are pretty much invisible to

the press, and I’m even less on their radar.”

“So, if a sober, attractive woman hits on you in the bar, why

don’t you go out with her?”

“That’s a different question. I might go out with her, dinner

and drinks or something. But I wouldn’t take her home, not the first

night I met her, despite being a serial dater,” Brooke said with a grin.

Addison had witnessed the exchange between Brooke and

the other woman with a knot of jealousy growing in her stomach.

She’d managed to quell a competitive urge to step between them

and attempt to pull Brooke’s attention away. The image of Brooke

sharing a cozy corner table with the brunette wasn’t enough to erase

Addison’s own thoughts about being with Brooke. Except Addison’s

visions of them included tucking Ramsey in, then cuddling on the

couch for popcorn and a movie. Even her fantasies were boring.

Brooke wouldn’t be interested in a dull, domestic date-night with

Addison when she could be out in bars having groupies adore her.

“Here we are.” Addison drew to a stop in front of Brooke’s car.

Just in time.

Brooke shifted in her seat and for a moment Addison wished

she could kiss her. But only a few days ago, Brooke had halted a

similar advance.

“Thanks for the ride. And for coming down to check out the

band tonight.”

Brooke was out of the car before Addison could gather herself

and mutter “you’re welcome.” Addison waited until Brooke got in

her own car and cranked the engine before she pulled off.

She took the long way through downtown before heading

• 102 •

Reluctant Hope

for the interstate. As she did, she imagined Brooke going home to

her loft apartment. It was late. Would Brooke go straight to bed,

or did she need time to unwind before going to sleep? Now that

she’d been to Brooke’s apartment, she could picture her moving

around the space. Would Brooke’s bedtime routine be as ritualistic

as Addison’s, doing everything in the same order each night? Or

maybe she would simply brush her teeth and fall into bed. That

seemed more Brooke’s style.

Addison tried to clear Brooke from her mind. She’d been

thinking about her more every day since they met and looked

forward to the days they planned to get together. She tried to think of

ways to engage Brooke in conversations that had nothing to do with

the fund-raiser, simply because she wanted to know more about her.

So she wanted to know her better? That was no reason to stress

out. They could be friends. Brooke had made it clear she wasn’t

interested in Addison, so Addison could simply leave it up to Brooke

to keep an acceptable distance between them. In the meantime, she

would enjoy Brooke’s company until after the fund-raiser, when

they would no longer have an excuse to see each other.

❖

“Why can’t we just watch a movie like normal people do on a

Saturday night?” Charles stretched a long strand off a roll of blue

painter’s tape and pressed it against the molding around the window.

“Because you promised to help me paint and this is the only

time we were both free. Besides, it’s easier to do stuff like this after

Ramsey’s in bed.” Addison poured beige paint into a tray, coated a

roller, and began to apply paint to the living-room wall.

“She would have helped us.”

“Yes, then we’d spend half our time trying to clean drops of

paint off my hardwood floors.”

“You caught me at a moment of weakness. I’d have done

anything to get out of having dinner with my father tonight.”

“What’s going on?”

“My parents are driving me crazy.”

• 103 •

eRin Dutton

“About the divorce?”

“Yes.” Charles stopped taping and faced her. “They’ve been

together for almost thirty-five years. At this point I don’t know why

they don’t just stick it out.”

“Come on, Charles. They fight all the time. I kind of respect

them for being brave enough to start again.” Addison glanced over

her shoulder at him and pointed at the tape in his hands. “Talk and

work. These therapy sessions aren’t free.”

He applied a strip of tape to the baseboard. “You can say that,

your parents are still together. They’re not supposed to split up.

They’re supposed to make each other miserable for the rest of their

lives. That’s what married couples do.”

“I know it’s hard. But don’t you want them to be happy?”

“No.”

“Charles.”

“Okay. But why do they each have to call me and complain

about the other? I’m trying hard to stay out of it. You’re lucky your

parents don’t live in town. You have a buffer.”

Addison shook her head. “It’s not so easy having them three

states away, especially not for Ramsey. They miss so much of her

growing up, and she misses them. She loves spending time with

your parents.”

“They love her, too. I can’t believe how tender Dad is around

her. Having two boys, he never got to play with dolls or have tea

parties.”

“I’m sure you had a tea party or two when you were a kid.”

“Maybe. But the difference is, I didn’t invite him. Ramsey

does.”“Do you think you should talk to your parents about trying not

to put you in the middle?”

“It doesn’t do any good.” Sighing, he set down the tape, then

picked up a brush. “I know they’re both having a hard time right

now, and I really do want to be there for them. It’s just weird to think

about either of them starting over at their age.”

Addison’s parents were almost ten years older than Charles’s,

and she hoped they never decided to split up. She could sympathize

• 104 •

Reluctant Hope

with Charles, though. Any couple who had been together as long as

either of their parents was likely to flounder when faced with the

idea of being alone again.

For Addison, being single was no big deal. She had Ramsey

to focus on, and even though she and Charles weren’t a couple, he

would always be a part of her life. He took some of the pressure off

her when it came to raising Ramsey, and he provided a great deal of

support as a friend.

Certainly, at times she thought about trying more actively to date.

She’d even gone online and filled out a profile at one of those silly

dating Web sites. But her mother’s warnings about crazy people lurking

on the Internet kept her from meeting anyone who contacted her. How

could she know for sure that the profiles she read were genuine?

She was better off not seeking out a personal life. If she was

meant to be with someone, that person could just come to her. She

had plenty to fill her time and enough people around her who loved

her. “Distract me from my misery,” Charles said. “What’s new with

you?”

Brooke. The attraction she felt to Brooke was new. But for

some reason she didn’t want to share that with Charles. She wanted

to keep the exhilaration she felt every time they were together to

herself. Despite Brooke’s obvious reluctance, Addison’s urge to kiss

her only seemed to grow stronger. She’d never looked at a woman

and wondered so much what her lips felt like. Would Brooke’s kiss

be aggressive or gentle? Would she tear her lips from Addison’s and

leave a hot trail across her jaw and down her neck?

“Addison?” Charles waved a hand at her. “I asked what’s new?”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly.

“Nothing? That far-away look wasn’t nothing. Spill.”

“Really. You know how I like my routine. Same old stuff.”

“Okay, then tell me about the same old stuff. How’s your

support group?”

Addison stopped painting. “I don’t know. I’ve missed the last

few meetings.” Normally, she had no trouble making the monthly

meetings, but lately the weeks had been slipping away quickly.

• 105 •

eRin Dutton

“On purpose?”

“Not really. Work was making my schedule so unpredictable,

then I got involved with the fund-raiser. Everything seems to be

overlapping a bit.” Addison vowed to make more of an effort to

attend a meeting. The support group had gotten her through some

tough times, and she tried her best to stay involved and help others.

“Work should calm down again after you close this deal, right?”

“This week. Thank heavens.” Addison turned back to the half-

painted wall and began rolling again. She reached to get the top of

the wall and felt the muscles stretching in the back of her shoulder.

The clean, fresh look of this room when they’d finished would

justify her soreness tomorrow.

“The fund-raiser shouldn’t be a big deal. You can organize

those things in your sleep.”

“You’re right about that.” If the fund-raiser were all that

occupied her thoughts she’d be in a lot better shape. But even

though after an exhausting day catching up on her to-do list around

the house she wanted to be able to fall into bed and go right to sleep,

she would spend several restless minutes thinking about Brooke’s

gorgeous dark eyes and how much she wanted to know what hid in

their depths.

❖

“Mommy.”

Addison stirred and heard the plaintive cry again. Disoriented,

she glanced at her alarm clock. Five a.m. was early for a Sunday

morning, but even more so considering she and Charles had stayed

up late. She threw back the covers and hurried across the hall to

Ramsey’s bedroom.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Addison sat on the side of Ramsey’s

bed and touched her forehead. Her skin was hot and dry.

“Head hurts.” She coughed weakly.

“I’ll be right back.” Addison went to her bedroom, then returned

to Ramsey’s bedside. She measured out the approved dose of liquid

medication. “Open up. This will make you feel better.”

• 106 •

Reluctant Hope

Ramsey took the medicine and scrunched her face up. She’d

never liked the taste, even when Addison bought the kind made for

kids. Addison gave her a glass of water and she swallowed hesitantly.

“Does your throat hurt?” Addison asked.

She nodded.

“Try to get some sleep, we’ll see if the medicine helps. If it

doesn’t, we’ll call the doctor.”

“Can I come to bed with you?”

“Of course you can.” Addison picked Ramsey up, cradling her

like she had when she was a baby. She crossed the hall and laid her

in bed. By the time Addison circled the bed Ramsey had crawled

closer to her side. Addison slid in next to her and pulled the covers

around them. She stayed awake stroking Ramsey’s head until she

drifted off and started to snore slightly.

Ramsey slept in fits for most of the morning, refusing Addison’s

offer of soup and every kind of drink she had in the house. In the

afternoon, Addison propped her up on the sofa with her favorite quilt

and let her watch cartoons. Her fever broke during her afternoon nap,

and she finally managed to get down some chicken-noodle soup.

Between tending to Ramsey, Addison returned some e-mails

and cleaned the house. Then she settled in with Ramsey and caught

up on her Scooby-Doo.

• 107 •

• 108 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR ten

I’ll have the chef salad with balsamic vinaigrette on the side.”

Brooke closed her menu and handed it to the waiter.

“I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger with a side salad.” Addison

held hers up as well.

“Bacon cheeseburger and a side salad? If you’re ordering a

burger, the fries are the best part,” Brooke said after the waiter left.

“The salad offsets the cheeseburger.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think the salad offsets the hit to my

cholesterol if I ate the bacon burger.”

“Well, that’s probably true. You have to watch your cholesterol?”

“Yeah. It’ll be even more of an issue as I get older, I guess.”

“That’s right. You’re still a young buck. Just wait until you’re

my age.”

“A young buck?” Brooke laughed. “Where did you hear that

expression? Besides, you’ve only got a few years on me.”

“A few? You’re not even thirty yet, are you?” Addison laughed,

too, and Brooke had to force herself to look away. Addison’s eyes

came alive in a way that Brooke wouldn’t have thought possible,

given their color. They seemed to shift from charcoal to nearly

silver, depending on Addison’s mood.

“This year.”

“So a few is more like eleven. Oh, God, I’ve never felt more

ancient.”

“You’re not. Besides, you’re only as old as you feel.”

• 109 •

eRin Dutton

“Honey, that’s just something old people say to make themselves

feel better. Besides, having a child can make you feel pretty old at

times. Ramsey has been up sick the past two nights.”

“Aw, poor kid. What’s wrong with her?”

“Sore throat, earache, slight fever. I think we’re on the upswing,

though. She was feeling better this morning. I wish I could have

stayed home, but things are insane at work right now.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, but my sitter is awesome and Ramsey will be okay with

her. I only managed to sneak out of work to meet you because this

place is so close to the office and my boss knows how cranky I get

if I don’t eat.”

“Well, where’s our food? We’ll try to make this quick.” Brooke

looked around and the waiter appeared with their meals as if she’d

summoned him.

“Ask and you shall receive. Can you make anything you want

materialize?”

“I wish,” Brooke said as she picked up her fork and dug into

her salad. What would she wish for if she could do so at will? If she

were being unselfish right now, she might want to send Addison

home to Ramsey. If she were selfish, she’d want to go home with her

as well. “Since we’re trying to be quick, let me fill you in on what

I’ve been doing while we eat.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“I have the names of a couple more local bands for the show.

I brought you copies of their CDs.” Brooke passed them across the

table. When she’d started this project, Brooke’s goal was simple—

call in enough favors to line up a few recognizable talents. But lately

while she considered potential acts, she’d weighed how well the

music would fit for the fund-raiser and whether Addison would be

pleased.

Addison flipped a CD case over and read the back. “You didn’t

have to do that. I trust your judgment. You can sign them up without

my approval.”

“I wanted you to know what to expect. One of these is country

and the other is a mainstream group, kind of retro-made-new.”

• 110 •

Reluctant Hope

Addison nodded. “Retro is in.”

“On another note, Grove Tree Road is coming through big-

time.”“Yeah?”

“Yes. We’ve been exchanging e-mails and they’re ready to go

on, for free. Their guitarist even offered to donate one of her guitars,

signed by the whole band, for a raffle.”

“That’s great.”

“I know. And it gave me an idea. If we can get each one of

the acts to donate an item—something as small as a copy of their

latest CD or as big as they wish—then we raffle off whatever it is

between each type of entertainment. It helps us out and promotes the

individual musicians or bands.”

“That’s a good idea, and the guitar is the perfect start to the

collection.”

“And I can hit Poppi up for a donation.”

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about that.” Addison paused to

sip her water. “We need someone to emcee this thing, you know,

keep things moving in between acts. I’ll do it if I have to, or you’re

welcome to, if you want. But watching her work the crowd that

night in the bar had me thinking she might be perfect.”

Brooke nodded. “She probably would. At least one of us

needs to be backstage making sure everyone knows where they’re

supposed to be and when.”

“With the number of different acts and types of shows we’re

planning, it’d be easier if we both could be back there.”

“Keith will handle the stage during the karaoke part, but we’ll

need someone for the rest of it.”

“If you’ve got someone else in mind—”

“No, Poppi would be great. She’s kind of a local celebrity and

she has the personality for it. I’ll ask her.”

Addison’s phone vibrated on the table and she glanced at the

screen. “This is my sitter. Excuse me, I have to get this.”

“Absolutely.”

She stood and moved toward an unoccupied corner of the

dining room. She paced the small area and threw her hands up in an

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exasperated gesture. The conversation was short and she didn’t look

pleased as she returned to the table.

“Everything okay?”

“Not really. My sitter has had a family emergency. I’m sorry,

can you give me just a minute more while I call my boss and let him

know I need to go home.”

“Of course.”

Addison turned away again and dialed. Addison had already

been seated when Brooke arrived for lunch, so now Brooke took

the opportunity to study her undetected. The slender cut of her suit

exaggerated the breadth of her shoulders and accentuated the flare

of her waist. Despite Brooke’s aversion to wearing business attire,

she found it downright sexy on a woman. Addison’s crisp, navy pin-

striped jacket and matching pants exuded power and confidence.

When she turned around, the hint of white silk inside the deep vee

of her jacket collar hinted at the woman beneath. Brooke had no

trouble imagining Addison without her jacket, her shirt untucked,

the silk draping softly against her breasts.

“Damn it.” Addison snapped her phone closed and Brooke

jumped, both from the noise and from the sudden lusty turn of her

thoughts.

“What’s wrong?”

“I called my boss to tell him Ramsey’s sick, but he said he can’t

spare me.”

Brooke scowled. “Screw them. She’s your kid.”

“It’s not that simple. We’re closing on a major development

today and I’ve done most of the paperwork up until now. He’d be

lost without me.” Addison shook her head. “Charles is out of town.

I need to call my backup sitter.”

“I can watch her,” Brooke blurted without thinking.

“No, no, I don’t want to put you out.”

“Please, what else do I have to do?”

“Well, I…” Addison smiled.

“You can say it. I don’t do anything all day. It’s one of the perks

of the job.”

“I wasn’t—I—are you sure you don’t need to work?”

• 112 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke shrugged. “Probably. But one more afternoon off won’t

end my career.”

“Actually, it’ll likely be the evening as well. I’ll be late getting

home.” Addison still seemed hesitant.

“No problem.”

“I don’t know, Brooke. Don’t take this the wrong way, but have

you taken care of a sick kid before?”

“No. But I’ve been sick. It’s pretty much just rest and fluids and

monitoring her fever, right?”

“Well, yes. I think she just has a bug, so that’s about all we can

do.” Addison dug in her purse and pulled out a small notebook. She

navigated through her phone and copied numbers onto a piece of

paper. “You have my cell. I’ll give you Charles’s cell and Ramsey’s

pediatrician. If she gets worse and you can’t get one of us, take her

to the emergency room.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have to do this. It’s sweet of you to offer, but you’re

not obligated to—”

“I know I’m not. Go back to work. Don’t worry about us, we’ll

be fine.”

Addison finally passed the paper with the numbers across the

table and said, “You’re a lifesaver. And for that, I’m going to buy

you lunch.” She placed her debit card on top of their bill. “I’ll call

the sitter and let her know to expect you. I have plenty of soup and

ginger ale at the house. Ramsey doesn’t feel well, so she may actually

nap. You have all my numbers, if you need anything at all—”

“Don’t call you because you’ll be terribly busy.”

Addison laughed. “Well, yes, actually. But if you really need

me, of course you can call.”

If I really need you. Brooke liked the sound of that. What would

Addison say if Brooke gave free rein to her recently overactive

imagination and told her what she really needed?

❖

“Hi, I’m—”

• 113 •

eRin Dutton

“Please tell me you’re Brooke.” The young woman answered

Addison’s door with her coat on and a backpack slung over her

shoulder. She seemed a bit harried, and Brooke hoped that was due

to whatever her emergency was and not just her personality. Addison

had said she liked this sitter and apparently trusted her.

“I am.”

“Oh, thank you so much. Addison called and said you were on

your way. I’m so sorry, but I have to go.”

“Brooke!” Ramsey rushed to the door. Her cheeks were

flushed, and, despite her apparent energy, her eyes looked glassy.

She grabbed Brooke’s hand.

“Do you know where to find everything?” The babysitter

gathered her purse and keys from the table by the door.

“I think I can figure it out,” Brooke said.

“She was just about to take a nap.”

“Go ahead. We’ll be fine.”

“Tell Addison I’m so sorry and I’ll call her later.” She was gone

and had closed the door behind her before Brooke could respond.

Brooke glanced down at Ramsey, who still held her hand and

looked back at her expectantly.

“Well, she had to go, but your mom sent me over here to stay

with you until she gets home.” Ramsey didn’t appear nearly as

nervous about the situation as Brooke felt. Addison had been right to

call her out, she didn’t know much about kids. But at least Ramsey

was old enough to let her know what she needed.

Ramsey nodded. “She told me. Her grandma’s sick.”

“Oh.” Brooke slipped off her coat and hung it on a hook behind

the door. “So, I hear it’s nap time around here.”

“I already napped this morning.” Ramsey went to the living

room and plopped down on the sofa.

“That’s what you do when you’re sick, lay around and sleep all

day. It’s the only good part about feeling bad. Let’s get you in bed.”

“I want to stay here.”

“Okay.” Brooke piled the pillows at one end, then helped

Ramsey lie down and pulled the blanket over her.

• 114 •

Reluctant Hope

Ramsey barely took up half the over-sized sofa, so Brooke

settled on the other end and picked up a book from the coffee table,

more out of curiosity about what interested Addison than out of an

actual desire to read. She glanced at the cover. She wouldn’t have

guessed Addison would enjoy romance novels. Several pages in, she

discovered that this book featured two female characters. Brooke

hadn’t even known such books existed.

She read for almost two hours, falling easily into the story about

the doctor and her police-officer girlfriend. When Ramsey stirred,

then sat up and rubbed her eyes, Brooke was actually surprised to

find that she didn’t want to put the book down.

“I’m hungry,” Ramsey said, as she crawled to Brooke’s end of

the sofa.

Brooke closed the book and set it back on the coffee table in front

of her. Ramsey wiggled into her lap. “Would you like some soup?”

“Chicken noodle?”

“Maybe. Let’s go see what your mom has in the kitchen.”

Ramsey wrapped her arms around Brooke’s neck, and Brooke stood

and carried her to the kitchen. She set her down in one of the dinette

chairs and went to the pantry. “Chicken noodle.” She held up a can.

She managed to locate a can opener and a pan and had the soup

on the stove in a matter of minutes. Then she found some crackers

and a couple of bowls. Ramsey talked while Brooke organized

their simple dinner, meandering from one subject to the next. When

Brooke set a bowl of soup in front of her, she was quiet long enough

to slowly empty it.

They returned to the couch, this time Ramsey snuggled up close

to Brooke, and found a movie on television that Brooke thought

might be kid-appropriate. The flick was a sequel to one Ramsey

had already seen so she filled Brooke in on the story from the first.

Brooke was amazed at her recollection of the details.

❖

Addison slipped her shoes off and crossed the living room as

quietly as possible. Brooke sat slumped on the sofa, her head angled

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awkwardly to the side. Her soft snores were the only sound in the

shadowed room. Ramsey lay on Brooke’s lap, one hand curled

beneath her cheek and the other holding Brooke’s. They looked so

peaceful that Addison considered leaving them there, but Brooke

would probably have a stiff neck if she didn’t wake her.

“Brooke,” she whispered, touching her shoulder gently. Brooke

started slightly and opened her eyes. Addison pressed her index

finger to her lips, then pointed down at Ramsey. “You don’t look

very comfortable. Let me take her.”

Addison settled on the sofa next to her and shifted Ramsey

onto her own lap. Ramsey stirred for only a second, then tucked

herself against Addison’s chest without opening her eyes. Brooke

straightened and stretched.

“How’s she doing?” Addison asked, stroking Ramsey’s head.

Her hair clung damply to her forehead, but her skin didn’t feel as

warm as it had that morning.

Still a bit groggy, Brooke glanced at her watch. “She’s feeling

better. We ate some soup a few hours ago.”

“She bounces back quickly. She’ll be running around like usual

by tomorrow. Thanks again for staying with her. I hate not being

here when she’s sick.” Addison brushed her fingers over Brooke’s

forearm. Then, because it felt good to touch her, she left her hand

there.“It was no problem. She’s a great kid.” Brooke met Addison’s

eyes, but it was too dark for Addison to read the expression in them.

“She’s very affectionate.” Brooke glanced down at Addison’s hand

still resting on her arm. “Like you.”

“I’m sorry.” Addison began to remove her hand, but Brooke

covered it with hers.

“That wasn’t a complaint.”

“No, then what was it?”

“An observation, I guess. You’re a very touchy-feely person. Is

that a maternal thing?”

“No. I’ve always been this way.” Addison stroked her fingers

along Brooke’s forearm. Brooke pressed on her hand more firmly,

as if trying to still the movement, but she didn’t pull away. Brooke

• 116 •

Reluctant Hope

stared at their hands and Addison felt Brooke’s forearm twitch

beneath her palm.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” Addison said,

attempting to distract Brooke from their physical contact.

“Like what?”

“Anything. Don’t think about it. Just blurt out the first thing

that comes to mind.”

“I want to write something amazing,” Brooke answered

quickly, then looked surprised at what she’d said.

Addison remained silent, stifling her questions, and waited for

Brooke to continue.

“Until recently, I’d convinced myself that I’m satisfied with the

course of my career—that maybe I’ll get my big break someday, but

until then what little success I’ve had will suffice. But Diane’s death

has made me reexamine where I’m at.”

“How so?”

“I look at her life and the impact she’s made. Do you remember

how many people came to that damn party she threw for herself?

And then to her funeral? She touched so many lives. I wasn’t very

close to my parents, I barely have any friends now that Diane is

gone, no family of my own. What’s my legacy? What can I leave

behind that will matter?”

“What do you want to leave?”

“An amazing song. More than one, really, but I’ll start there.

I want to write the kind of song that inspires someone, or breaks

their heart, or fills them up, as long as it makes them feel something.

Anything. I just don’t want to wait around for it to happen to me.”

Addison nodded. “I went through some similar emotions during

treatment. Not so much professionally as personally.”

“Obviously.” Brooke glanced down at Ramsey.

“But it’s not that far off, is it? You want to create something

that will leave a reminder of who you were when you’re gone.”

Addison touched Ramsey’s cheek. She’d been so afraid of doing the

wrong thing when she decided to get pregnant, but every day she

spent with Ramsey affirmed her choice. She was scared of leaving

Ramsey’s life too early, of missing her milestones, but it was worth

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the risk for the ones she did get to share. “That’s what I’ve done

here.”Brooke turned her hand over and grasped Addison’s. Their

fingers interlaced naturally and Addison rubbed her thumb against

the back of Brooke’s. Brooke’s expression was softer and more

vulnerable than Addison had seen it. Her eyes, usually unreadable,

were open and filled with need that echoed in Addison’s body.

Addison lifted her hand, about to touch Brooke’s face, but Ramsey

sighed in her sleep and burrowed farther into Addison’s lap.

“Excuse me while I tuck her in.” Though she hated to disturb

the moment of intimacy between them, she gathered Ramsey in her

arms.“It’s late. I should go. You’ve had a long day and are probably

tired.” Brooke started to rise.

“Wait, please,” Addison said quickly. “I’ll be up for a while

winding down. I can never go right to bed—er, to sleep, when I

get home.” Addison blushed, feeling ridiculous. Brooke probably

wouldn’t have noticed had she not so obviously stumbled over

the word. “I’ll be right back.” Addison hurried toward Ramsey’s

bedroom, hoping Brooke would still be there when she returned.

• 118 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR eleven

Brooke sat down on the couch, shifting uncomfortably.

Addison looked exhausted. Brooke thought she should

leave, but the plea in Addison’s voice kept her there. She’d stay

only a few more minutes, though, then say good-bye so Addison

could go to bed. Remembering how flustered Addison had become,

Brooke smiled.

Despite her apprehension about getting closer to Addison, she

couldn’t help herself. She admired Addison for having endured what

she had and come out so strong. Addison was confident and not

afraid to be vulnerable. At times she appeared almost fearless, then

sometimes she seemed to drop her guard completely and expose her

fears and uncertainty. Her ability to be open and affectionate both

enticed Brooke and made her want to run.

A week ago she could have told herself not to think about

Addison this way—that Addison wasn’t interested in her. But

tonight she couldn’t delude herself about the desire in Addison’s

eyes. Brooke couldn’t guess where things between them might go,

but if she decided to give in to the pull of attraction, Addison would

probably be willing. Brooke pressed her thighs together to control

the exquisite ache building between them. The swell of arousal

intoxicated her, and she wanted to abandon her misgivings.

“I thought maybe I’d scared you off,” Addison said as she

reentered the room. She’d shed her business attire in favor of

sweatpants and a T-shirt.

• 119 •

eRin Dutton

“You did.” Everything about Addison scared her. From the

tender way she was looking at her now to the voice Brooke couldn’t

shake that reminded her of Addison’s past.

“You’re still here.”

“I know.”

Addison settled on the sofa next to Brooke, folding one leg

beneath her. “Thanks again for looking after Ramsey tonight. It was

extremely helpful.”

“No problem. She slept most of the afternoon, then we watched

movies until she fell asleep again.”

“I don’t normally let just anyone look after my child. But she

likes you.” Addison stretched her arm along the back of the sofa

behind Brooke. “And I trust you.”

“She’s a great kid.”

“Come to the zoo with us Wednesday afternoon.”

“The zoo?”

“I’m celebrating closing this deal by taking the afternoon off.

Charles, Ramsey, and I are going to the zoo. Come with us.”

Brooke wanted to spend more time with Addison and Ramsey,

but she wasn’t sure how she felt about tagging along as the fourth

wheel to their family outing.

“Charles has Ramsey that night. After the zoo, you can come

back here and I’ll make you dinner as a thank-you for stepping in

today.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Addison said softly. Her eyes implored Brooke to

accept the invitation, not only on their field trip, but also to dinner

later.“Okay.” Brooke couldn’t refuse. Addison had moved closer to

her—close enough to catch the clean scent of her perfume—close

enough for Brooke to imagine how her full lips would feel against

her own.

“Good.” Addison’s hand brushed the back of Brooke’s neck.

As Brooke told herself it was an accidental contact, she did it again,

her fingers lightly stroking the sensitive skin at the edge of her

T-shirt.

• 120 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke barely held back a moan when Addison slipped her

fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp. She should stop this

before it went too far, but Addison’s touch rippled pleasure through

Brooke’s body and she didn’t want it to end. Addison moved closer

and her breath feathered against Brooke’s cheek.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help myself,” Addison whispered, then she

grasped Brooke’s chin, turned her head, and kissed her.

Addison’s lips were soft, but commanding, and Brooke

responded without hesitation. Addison’s tentative exploration

deepened and she slid her tongue along the inside of Brooke’s upper

lip. Brooke’s body exploded with sensations, her heart seemed to

pummel the inside of her ribs, and her stomach fluttered as if on

a roller coaster. Addison’s touch gentled against her chin, and she

caressed Brooke’s jaw and the side of her neck.

Brooke wrapped her arm around Addison and pulled her closer.

When she rested her hand against the small of Addison’s back and

felt the hem of her shirt, she naturally slipped it underneath to touch

bare skin.

Addison eased back, searching Brooke’s face as if trying to

gauge her reaction. Brooke pulled in a slow, deliberate breath, in an

attempt to abate her light-headed response to Addison’s kiss.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever had anyone apologize before kissing

me.”“Should I apologize again?”

“No. I’m as much at fault for not stopping it.” She should

have, but Addison’s mouth was simply too intoxicating. Even now,

Brooke wanted to do it again. Realizing she still had her hand under

Addison’s shirt, she stifled the urge to slide it higher up her ribs and

instead jerked it free.

“At fault? That was a pretty amazing first kiss, if I do say so

myself. You don’t do it justice by saying it that way.”

It was amazing, but it needed to be their last if Brooke hoped to

keep her sanity. The part of her that wanted to keep kissing Addison

could too easily win against the part that knew it wasn’t a good idea.

Panic began to replace the hot sizzle in her blood, but the taste of

Addison lingered on her lips.

• 121 •

eRin Dutton

Whenever she thought about letting down her guard with

Addison, she immediately remembered how helpless she felt

when she lost Diane. The memory of impotently watching death

claim Diane bit by bit until she was unrecognizable as the strong

woman she’d once been was too fresh. She would never again sit

by the bedside of someone she loved while they waged a losing

battle.

“Brooke?” Addison watched the shutters come down in

Brooke’s eyes, replacing the haze of arousal that had consumed

them only seconds ago. That kiss had just rocked her world, and

she was sure Brooke had felt it, too. But now Brooke was pulling

away. She kept her hand on the back of Brooke’s neck, needing to

maintain the physical connection. “Talk to me, Brooke.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Which part? You’re a very competent kisser, so I don’t think

that’s what you’re having trouble with.” Addison tried to defuse the

serious mood Brooke had slipped into. Suddenly Addison needed

to downplay their kiss just as much as Brooke probably did. No

kiss had ever felt more natural and exciting at the same time. She’d

been concerned about her growing attraction to Brooke, but she now

knew that was the least of her worries. Brooke would break her

heart if she let her.

“Addison, I can’t.” Brooke’s voice was rough, and it seemed an

effort for her to get the words out.

Brooke pulled away and scooted forward to the edge of the

sofa. She’d put mere inches between them, but the separation took

them much farther apart. She cradled her head in her hands.

“It was just a kiss.” Addison had never made a bigger

understatement in her life. There was nothing simple about what

they’d just shared.

Brooke lifted her head, and when their eyes met, the pain

reflected in Brooke’s shook Addison. Losing Diane had been hard

on Brooke, Addison understood that. She’d lived the other side of

Brooke’s hell and, though she’d survived, she tried to imagine how

Charles might have felt if she hadn’t. Or how she might feel if, God

forbid, something happened to take Charles out of her life. How

• 122 •

Reluctant Hope

difficult would it be to get over that devastation? Did Brooke just

need more time to heal?

“I should go.” Brooke stood.

“Hold on.” By the time Addison rose, Brooke was halfway

across the room. “Brooke, wait. At least say you’ll still go with us

on Wednesday.”

“Addison—”

“Please.” Addison caught her just as she opened the front door.

“I promise I’ll behave. Ramsey would love it if you go.”

“Oh, you can’t use the kid.”

“Come over at one o’clock. We’ll all ride together. What

could happen with Charles and Ramsey along?” Addison purposely

didn’t mention their original plans for dinner after Charles left with

Ramsey. “You can’t just avoid me. We aren’t done with the fund-

raiser yet.”

After a second of deliberation, Brooke nodded. “I’ll see you

Wednesday.”

“Thanks again for helping with Ramsey today.”

Brooke waved over her shoulder as she left. Addison closed

the door behind her, then collapsed against it. Her legs felt weak

and her fingers still tingled where she’d touched Brooke. She shook

her head, recalling the line of her thoughts a moment ago. Had she

really been contemplating whether Brooke might someday soon be

willing to take a chance in a relationship?

Aside from Brooke’s issues, Addison had her own reasons for

hesitating. Her first instinct was to use Ramsey as an excuse. She

had to be careful about who she brought in and out of her daughter’s

life. She and Charles had made that deal when Ramsey was born.

Ramsey had never seen her with another woman. No one had

interested her enough for a second date in such a long time, let alone

bringing them home to meet Ramsey.

But, she admitted, Ramsey was young and would adapt. In fact,

she already had a classmate who had two dads, so the concept wasn’t

foreign to her. Another, perhaps stronger, reason for her hesitation

was vanity. She could handle kissing Brooke, if that’s as far as it

went. But the thought of getting naked in front of anyone, especially

• 123 •

eRin Dutton

Brooke, nearly sent her into a full-blown panic attack. She had no

problem imagining what it might be like to undress Brooke. If she

pulled Brooke’s T-shirt over her head would she find the expected

sensible white bra or be surprised by silk or lace? But Addison’s

fantasy fog dissolved in a cheesy, ’80s television manner when

Brooke reached for the buttons on her shirt.

❖

“Would you like a cupcake?”

Addison turned, already formulating a polite refusal. Stacey

held a tray of cupcakes frosted the same teal blue as the blouse she

wore. Addison swallowed the impulse to ask if the coordination was

on purpose.

“No, thank you.”

“It’s good to see you back. We’ve missed you at these

meetings.” She stepped around Addison and set the tray in the only

empty space on the table behind her. A coffee urn, bottles of water,

ham sandwiches on dinner rolls, and an assortment of chips covered

the rest of the surface.

“I’ve missed the spread at these meetings,” Addison said,

picking up a bottle of water. Stacey gave a half smile as if she wasn’t

sure if Addison was joking, so Addison gave her rehearsed excuse

for missing a few support-group meetings. “Work has just been

crazy. Between that and the fund-raiser—”

“Do you need me to put someone else on your committee?

I mean, I just assumed you and Brooke could handle it, but she

probably doesn’t know the first thing about organizing a fund-raiser.”

“No, actually she—”

“You poor thing.” She touched Addison’s shoulder

sympathetically. “You’re probably doing all the work by yourself. I

think Mr. Poole has the catering organized. I’ll ask him to give you

a call.”

“No,” Addison blurted, nearly choking at the thought of Mr.

Poole and Brooke working together. “We have it covered. It’s going

to be great.”

• 124 •

Reluctant Hope

“Okay, I was simply trying to ease your considerable burden.

If you don’t even have time to make a meeting, you must be

overwhelmed.” Stacey’s tone let her know that Addison had hurt

her feelings.

Addison sighed. “Thank you, Stacey. I know you want to help.

But I promise, Brooke and I have things under control. And, hey,

here I am at a meeting.”

Stacey smiled, then, distracted by a newcomer in the doorway,

she excused herself. The man had barely stepped inside when Stacey

met him, shaking his hand vigorously and ushering him farther into

the room. He looked relieved.

Addison remembered how nervous she was when she arrived

for her first meeting. She didn’t know anyone, cancer was new to

her, and her treatment was making her sick. She nearly left before

she got out of the car that night, but Stacey happened to pull into

the parking lot just as Addison shifted her car into reverse. She’d

escorted her inside and made her feel like one of the group. Stacey’s

kind heart and generous nature had been a light in the storm for

Addison and for many others in this room.

As the moderator called everyone together, Addison picked

one of many empty chairs. Their group attendance fluctuated and

tonight the crowd was sparse. When she was new, Addison had

tried to keep up with who was missing and why. But counting the

number of people who had died depressed her. Immersed in her own

treatment, she hadn’t had the luxury of focusing on negative things.

She spent what little energy she had trying to will her cancer away.

Brooke wasn’t the first person to question her participation in

a support group. After her surgery, Addison’s friends and family

expected she would stop attending. Even Charles had admitted a

few years ago that he didn’t understand why she’d continued. While

she didn’t go as religiously as she used to, for Addison this group

was a touchstone to her past. She wanted the reminder of how lucky

she was and that she should stay involved in working toward a cure

for all types of cancers. And after what she’d gone through, she

hoped she could provide needed support to someone else who was

just beginning their difficult journey.

• 125 •

eRin Dutton

Addison suspected some of Brooke’s disdain for the group

stemmed from jealousy. Diane had found comfort and support among

people who understood her situation in a way that Brooke couldn’t.

From everything Addison had gathered, Brooke had no other close

friends. Diane was her world, and she would expect Diane to be the

same. So, naturally, she thought Diane would depend on her during

her treatment.

But Addison had gotten to know a little about Diane during

her time in the group. Diane was protective of Brooke. Addison

suspected that was generally a dynamic of their relationship, not

only related to Diane’s cancer. Diane cared for her and probably

thought it best to spare her as much pain as she could. Addison had

seen others do the same with their family members.

Realizing once again just how solitary Brooke was, Addison

wished she could comfort her. When she thought about what losing

Diane must have done to Brooke, Addison wanted to find her and

gather her in her arms and hold her.

• 126 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR twelve

Monkeys!” Ramsey exclaimed as she released Addison’s

hand and ran ahead. She practically skidded to a stop at

the fence around the large enclosure. Inside, three big orangutans sat

on the L-shaped limbs of thick trees.

Addison scanned the map in her hand as she strolled toward

the exhibit. Ahead of her Charles and Brooke walked together,

engrossed in conversation. Brooke said something she couldn’t hear

and Charles laughed. Addison had been nervous about the outing

for two days, ever since extending the invitation to Brooke. She

didn’t realize until now how much she wanted Charles and Brooke

to like each other. However, it shouldn’t matter because as soon as

the fund-raiser was over Brooke would probably run away from her

as fast as she could.

Addison caught up with them at the exhibit. Ramsey talked

to the orangutans and pretended their chattering meant they were

responding to her.

“What’s next, Mommy?” Ramsey turned around, squinting

against the sun as she looked up at Addison.

Addison consulted the map. “The meerkats are on the corner

over there.”

“They have cats in the zoo?”

“Well, yes, they do. But not the kind you’re used to seeing. The

lions and tigers are a kind of cat. But meerkats are different. Let’s

go look at them.” Addison took her hand and led her around the

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eRin Dutton

path until they reached a large Plexiglas wall. Inside, what looked

to Addison like large rodents poked their heads out of holes in the

ground.

“Look, babies.”

In one corner of the exhibit, two larger meerkats huddled close

to five tiny ones. Ramsey pressed her hands against the glass and

angled as close as she could. “Aren’t they cute?” she asked.

“Yeah, they are.” Brooke squatted down next to her to look

inside. Ramsey stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a better view.

Addison watched the two of them cooing over the babies, their

faces close together, Ramsey resting her hand on Brooke’s bent leg

for balance. This was what she’d always had in mind when she was

younger and thought about having a family. She’d done things the

way she had because she’d felt time was running short, and she didn’t

regret it. Her arrangement with Charles worked out wonderfully.

But, sometimes, Addison missed the intimacy of having a partner in

every sense of the word.

Brooke and Ramsey took off toward the next exhibit, although

neither was excited when Addison told them it was the reptile house.

She wasn’t sure if they would actually get Ramsey inside, given her

fear of snakes.

“You okay?” Charles asked, as he fell into step beside Addison.

“What? Yeah, why?”

“You seemed a little far away back there.”

“I was just lost in thought for a moment.” Up ahead, Brooke

and Ramsey stopped to peer over the side of a bridge into the stream

running below it. Brooke rested against the top rail while Ramsey

ducked under the lower one. Ramsey leaned a little too far over

for Addison’s liking, but before she could call out, Brooke reached

down and grabbed the back of Ramsey’s jeans, holding her up.

“Whatever it was, it looked pretty serious.” Charles glanced at

Brooke and Ramsey. “Want to tell me what’s going on between you

two?”“Not really.” Addison sighed. “I kissed her.”

“Yeah? Shouldn’t that be a good thing? You said it as if you

gave her some kind of communicable disease.”

• 128 •

Reluctant Hope

“She doesn’t want to be with me.”

“She’s here now.”

“Only because she agreed before the kiss, and I used Ramsey

to guilt her into keeping her commitment.”

Charles shook his head. “Did she kiss you back?”

“Yes.”

“I’m having a hard time understanding what the problem is so

far.” “It’s not that simple. Remember when I told you that I met her at

a funeral for a woman in my group. Diane was Brooke’s friend, and

I don’t think she’s close to anyone else the way she was with her.”

“Diane had cancer.” Charles raised his eyebrows in

understanding. “And Brooke’s the quiet, broody type who thinks

she can avoid being hurt by avoiding any connection to the disease

that took her friend.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s ridiculous. She’s still a child. Is she even thirty yet?

Chances are she’ll come in contact with cancer again in her lifetime.”

“I know. But she won’t do it voluntarily.” Addison realized

she’d been twisting the map in her hands and tried to smooth out the

creases she’d created.

“So, what are you looking for with her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Something casual?”

“No.”

“Then it’s something serious?”

“Do I have to know right now? It was an incredible kiss. And I

guess I just don’t like being told I can’t do it again.”

“Now that sounds like the Addison I know and love.” Charles

laughed.

“Shut up.” Addison pushed his shoulder and he exaggerated a

stumbling walk away from her.

Did she want a serious relationship with Brooke? She felt

ridiculous even thinking about the future with a woman she wasn’t

dating and had known for only a few weeks. Brooke kept herself

so guarded that sometimes it seemed impossible for anyone to get

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eRin Dutton

close. So, maybe that did make Addison all the more determined to

get inside Brooke’s walls.

❖

“I wanna see the giraffes,” Ramsey yelled as she ran along

the dirt road that led to the Savannah exhibit. Addison and Charles

followed and Brooke brought up the rear.

“Why are the damn giraffes so far away from the rest of the

animals?” Brooke grumbled to herself. The path they were on now

cut through a large open field, and in the distance, she could see the

signs for the next exhibit. She felt like they’d walked for miles in

the blazing sun, when actually it had been only minutes since they’d

left the shaded area that housed the big cats. “Apparently we have to

cross the desert to see the giraffes.”

Addison laughed and lagged back until Brooke caught her.

“Here.” She held out a bottle of water she’d bought at the snack bar

as they passed.

“Thanks.” Brooke took it and swallowed several big gulps.

“The elephants are over here, too. But the giraffes are my

favorite and totally worth the trip.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. They’re beautiful in an awkward way.”

They finally reached the treed area surrounding the giraffe

enclosure. Three of the lanky animals stood near the fence on the

far side of the large open area. Ramsey called to them, giving them

made-up names and summoning them with a series of kissing noises

and whistles, but they showed no interest in her. One of the giraffes

turned its head and looked at them insolently. Its lower jaw moved

in a slow circle as it chewed whatever it had just pulled off a nearby

tree. After staring at them with big round eyes rimmed with long

lashes, it turned away, having apparently deemed them unworthy

of its time.

“Well, that’s just insulting,” Brooke said. “Damn anti-social

giraffes.”

“Damn anti-social giraffes,” Ramsey repeated.

• 130 •

Reluctant Hope

“Ramsey, you don’t say ‘damn,’” Addison chided, trying not to

laugh at the matching pouty looks on Brooke and Ramsey’s faces.

“Brooke said it.”

“Well, she shouldn’t have.” Addison gave Brooke a pointed

look and a flush crept up her neck.

“Sorry,” Brooke said. Unfazed, Ramsey went back to trying to

attract the giraffes’ attention. “Sorry,” Brooke repeated.

“It’s okay. Around her, you have to be careful. She’s a little

sponge, soaking up everything.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“I don’t want to talk to these giraffes anymore,” Ramsey

declared, shoving her hands on her hips in frustration.

“Okay, let’s get moving then.” Charles took her hand and they

headed back onto the path.

They stopped briefly at the elephant exhibit, but they weren’t

interested in interacting with Ramsey either. They trekked back

across the field toward the main part of the zoo, meeting several

families pushing strollers and trailing kids of various ages.

“Doesn’t that make you want a few more?” Charles asked after

they passed a ridiculously large family.

“Lord, no. I’m not one of those women who can handle a

gaggle of children.”

“A gaggle?” Brooke laughed. “I think that’s geese.”

“What about you, Brooke?” Charles asked. “Do you want

kids?”“No.”

Addison gave her a curious look, but Charles pressed for more.

“None?”

“I’ve never felt a strong urge to be pregnant. In fact, I’m a little

afraid of childbirth.”

“Sure, but that’s the beauty of being a lesbian. You don’t

necessarily have to be the one to bear the child.”

“I guess not. But I’ve never been in a relationship where talk of

children as a real possibility has come up. And I don’t hear my clock

ticking loudly enough to make me want to go it alone.”

“Well, you certainly have some time to decide.”

• 131 •

eRin Dutton

Brooke nodded. She’d known women in college who were

baby-crazy, always talking about graduating and settling down with

their husbands and having kids. But, already, she’d known she was

different from her classmates. As an only child, she didn’t have any

nieces or nephews to attach herself to. Brooke tended to overlook

children after a cursory glance, never feeling the pull of maternal

instincts.

Even now, though she’d been okay with watching Ramsey the

other day and had to admit how cute the kid was as she ran around

the zoo, she didn’t yearn to raise one of her own.

“Critter Encounter?” Brooke read the sign pointing to the fork

in the trail that Ramsey had taken. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

Addison smiled. “It’s the petting zoo. We’ll have to drag

Ramsey out. She could spend hours in there.”

When they reached the entrance to the fenced-off area, Ramsey

stood waiting, practically bouncing out of her shoes with excitement.

“Now, Mommy?”

“Go ahead.” Addison barely had the words out of her mouth

before Ramsey scurried through the gate.

“Be gentle with the animals,” Charles said, as he followed her

inside.

“I’m surprised that in her excitement she remembered she

couldn’t go in until we said so.” Addison laid her forearms across

the top of the fence and rested her chin on the back of her hand.

A llama, a donkey, and some pigs occupied stalls lining the

open paddock area where a dozen or so small goats roamed freely.

Ramsey wove between the goats, touching them as she passed. Only

the bravest among them didn’t shy away when she darted toward

them. She tried to imitate their bleating, but hers came out more like

a grunt.

Brooke leaned against the fence next to Addison. Comforted

by the sound of a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead and the

smell of hay and feed that teased her nose, she couldn’t remember

feeling more at peace since Diane died. Even thinking about her

now didn’t bring the same sharp stab of pain. Instead, she registered

a dull ache and the echo of emptiness.

• 132 •

Reluctant Hope

Ramsey had found one particularly affectionate goat that

bumped her shoulder and nuzzled her hand.

“I think he’s hungry.” Charles shoved his hand inside his pocket

and dug out several coins. “Do you want to feed them?”

Ramsey nodded and hurried over to what at first glance looked

like a bubblegum machine. Charles put a quarter in the dispenser

and cupped his hands under the chute while Ramsey turned the

dial. Seeds and grains flooded his hands, and Ramsey immediately

dipped in for a fistful.

“Are you okay? We’re not boring you to death, are we?”

Addison nudged Brooke’s arm with her elbow.

“No. Of course not.”

“I wasn’t sure how exciting a life you’re used to. But I know a

day at the zoo isn’t that thrilling, especially if you don’t like kids.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like them. You know how you sometimes

have this vision of what your life is going to be. Well, mine never

included kids.”

“I understand.” Addison smiled. Brooke enjoyed the sparkle in

her eyes when she was teasing.

“Besides, I’m not very high-maintenance. Spending time with

you has been more socialization than I’ve had in months.”

“Yeah?” Addison canted her weight to her left, bringing

her closer to Brooke—close enough for Brooke to see her pupils

constrict against the shaft of sunlight that poked through the canopy

and fell directly on her face.

“Yeah. It really helps take my mind off things. I know we’ve

had a bit of a rocky start, Addison, but I appreciate the friendship

you’ve extended to me. It’s definitely helped me deal with some

tough times.”

“Friendship? Is that what we have going here?”

The sun lit up Addison’s auburn hair, making streaks of it shine

like copper. Brooke’s skin tingled where Addison’s bare arm rested

against hers. “Friendly” didn’t often describe what Brooke felt

toward Addison. Today, the casual atmosphere of their zoo trip kept

the usual flares of arousal down to a slow burn of awareness. But

throughout the day, Brooke had been conscious of Addison, of the

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eRin Dutton

way her khaki shorts showed off her long legs, and how the gusting

wind flattened her T-shirt against the swell of her breasts.

She’d tried to counteract those moments by concentrating on

the interaction among Addison, Charles, and Ramsey. The three of

them were a family, though not by the traditional definition, and it

worked well for them. Addison had said she didn’t need anything

complicating her life. Despite their kiss the other night and the look

in Addison’s eyes right now, they’d both be better off if they didn’t

cross that line. So, yes, friendship was all they could have.

“Okay, Ramsey, five minutes, then we’re ready to head home,”

Charles said as he stepped outside the paddock.

“That’s not going to work,” Addison said as he rested against

the fence next to her.

“I know. The warning was for me, not for her.”

“Ramsey, come wash your hands,” Addison called, walking

over to the hand-washing station just outside the fence.

“Not yet.”

“Let’s go.”

“No, Mommy.”

“Now, Ramsey.” Addison’s tone left no more room for

argument.

“She’s better at playing the bad guy than I am,” Charles told

Brooke. “I know I need to be tougher on her sometimes, but I just

want her to be Daddy’s girl forever.”

Brooke didn’t speak, letting Charles interpret her polite smile

however he wanted.

Ramsey took her time getting across the paddock. She slowed

to pet every animal in her path, darting glances at Addison to see how

much more she could get away with. Bravely, she met Addison’s

eyes, her own shining with defiance, her mouth pressed together

tight.Brooke laughed. “You guys might be in trouble when she gets

older.” Ramsey would be a rebellious one, and, with her looks and

personality, she’d be a popular kid.

Addison shook her head. “I know.”

• 134 •

Reluctant Hope

Ramsey struggled with the metal latch on the gate, frustration

making her less likely to succeed by the minute.

Charles and Brooke both reached for the latch at the same time.

“Sorry,” Brooke mumbled as she pulled her hand back and

stepped away.

Charles smiled and opened the gate. Ramsey stomped past him

to the hand-washing station and shoved her hands under the water.

“I think it’s almost nap-time,” Addison said loudly as she

pumped soap into her hand, then rubbed it over Ramsey’s.

Ramsey pinched her eyebrows but, wisely, didn’t say anything.

Brooke let Addison and Charles start out on the path before

she followed, feeling awkward about the exchange with Charles a

minute before.

Ramsey stepped easily between Charles and Addison and

grabbed each of their hands, the tension from moments ago forgotten.

She’d already forgiven her parents for not giving in to her pleas for

more time.

Every few seconds she let her body drop so they supported all

of her weight as she swung between them, trusting each time that

her parents wouldn’t let her fall. Brooke had never had anyone trust

her so completely. Despite the unorthodox arrangement Charles and

Addison had, it was clearly working. Today had been proof that

Ramsey was well-adjusted, secure enough to venture out on her

own, but also not afraid to show her affection and dependence on

her parents. Despite how comfortable today had been, Brooke was

reminded that she was on the outside of this little family.

• 135 •

• 136 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR tHiRteen

Addison opened the front door and flipped the switches for

the foyer light as well as the porch light behind her. As

they’d driven home, the clear blue sky had given way to the silver

and pink tones of dusk.

“Get your backpack, sweetie. I’m taking you to preschool

tomorrow,” Charles said as he closed the door behind him.

Ramsey disappeared down the hall.

“She’ll sleep well tonight.” Addison slipped off her light jacket

and hung it in the hall closet.

“Yep, she’ll be out halfway through the first bedtime story,”

Charles said.

Ramsey returned dragging a backpack straining to contain its

contents. The zipper was half open and a tuft of sandy-brown fur

poked out between the teeth.

“That bag wasn’t that full when I packed it earlier.” Addison

grabbed the strap of the bag as Ramsey passed.

“I added a couple things,” Ramsey said, her tone indicating she

knew better than her mother what should have been included.

“How much did you add?”

“Toddy wanted to bring his friends.”

Addison smiled as she extracted a brown bear, a small yellow

kitty, two Barbie dolls, and a purple monkey. “All of his friends?”

Ramsey and the brown bear had been inseparable ever since she’d

gotten it for her second birthday. At the time, she’d had trouble

saying “Teddy” so she’d christened him “Toddy.”

• 137 •

eRin Dutton

“It’s a sleepover at Daddy’s house.”

Addison repacked the bag, leaving Toddy and the monkey. “I

think Kitty and the Barbies will stay with me.”

“Are you having a sleepover, too?” Ramsey looked at Addison

then at Brooke.

Addison flashed on an image of herself pulling back the

sheets and guiding Brooke into her bed. Her face flamed hot and

she avoided Brooke’s eyes, instead focusing on answering Ramsey.

“No, honey. You’re the lucky one.”

Charles took Ramsey’s bag and slung it over his shoulder.

When his eyes met Addison’s, he winked. Addison’s scowl only

made him grin wider.

“Bye, Mommy.”

“Good-bye, sweetheart.” Addison swept Ramsey up in a quick

hug. “Bye, Brooke.” Ramsey headed for Brooke with open arms.

Clearly caught off guard, Brooke managed to squat down in time to

catch her in a swift embrace.

“Have a good night.” Charles held the door for Ramsey, then

followed her out.

Addison turned to Brooke. “Can I take your coat?”

“I should get going, too.” Brooke pulled her jacket tighter

around her.

“What about dinner?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Brooke glanced at the closed

door as if recalling Ramsey’s innocent question.

“Relax, Brooke. I’m only offering to cook for you. Chicken and

broccoli Alfredo, no commitment involved.” Brooke didn’t answer

but she didn’t dart toward the door either, so Addison decided to

interpret that as a concession. “Throw your coat over the back of

the couch and come keep me company.” She headed for the kitchen,

hoping Brooke would follow, but she didn’t allow herself to check.

She turned on the burner and pulled out a skillet and a pot for

the pasta. After she reached into the refrigerator for supplies, she

was pleased when she closed the door and found Brooke propped

against the opposite counter.

• 138 •

Reluctant Hope

“Anything I can do to help?” Brooke asked.

Addison passed her a loaf of crusty bread on a bamboo cutting

board. “You can slice this. Knives are over there.”

Addison didn’t feel the need to fill the silence as they worked,

enjoying the rasp of the knife through bread and the sizzle of sautéing

chicken. She’d planned the zoo outing in an attempt to make up

for the time she’d been away from Ramsey lately because of work,

and it had been worth it. But knowing Ramsey, she didn’t envy the

preschool teacher tomorrow who would have trouble getting her to

focus on anything but the animals she’d seen today.

Brooke hummed softly while she arranged thick slices of bread

on the cookie sheet Addison gave her. Addison recognized the tune

but stopped short of humming along. She did, however, sneak quick

glances at Brooke. The zoo probably wasn’t normally Brooke’s

thing, but aside from a few times when Brooke’s expression went

all dark and serious, Addison thought she’d enjoyed today as well.

She’d seemed more relaxed and open than Addison had seen her

before. Once, Addison even thought she’d let her guard down

completely, and she wondered if it could be that easy—if she and

Brooke could get past Diane’s death, and cancer, and everything

else, and make it work. But then Charles had interrupted them, and

Brooke repositioned her defenses.

Addison had once thought Brooke a closed book, but she now

realized she might be written in an entirely different language.

❖

“That was delicious, so rich and cheesy.” Brooke finished her

last bite and groaned, a low vibration of pleasure that Addison felt

to her own depths.

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it. It’s easy to make. I could

write down the recipe if you want. I got the Alfredo from a magazine

and added the broccoli because the only way Ramsey will eat it is if

I smother it in cheese. You can make it plain or with the chicken. Or,

I suppose, you could try other things in it if you wanted to.”

• 139 •

eRin Dutton

Brooke smiled indulgently and Addison realized she’d been

rambling again. She tore off a piece of bread and stuck it in her

mouth. She’d spent most of the day with Brooke, but without

Charles and Ramsey as chaperones the atmosphere suddenly felt

more intimate. Perhaps she should have turned on a few more lights

before they sat down.

“So, is your big project at work all wrapped up?” Brooke asked.

“Yes. We’ll still be handling units in the complex, but the

closings will be more spread out.”

“Do you have to work long hours often?”

“It varies, depending on what we have going on. Usually, my

schedule is somewhat flexible, which is one of the reasons I’ve

stayed there. But despite my complaining, I’ve been glad for the

overtime lately.”

“I guess the poor real-estate market makes your job difficult.”

“Even though interest rates are in the basement, we’re having a

harder time finding loans for buyers that wouldn’t have had a problem

a few years ago. Every so often we hear rumors of cutbacks. But this

deal gives us some breathing room until we can put something else

together.”

“I certainly don’t have a business mind. I’d be bored to death

in an office wearing a suit.”

“It’s not exciting, but it’s stable.” Addison took Brooke’s plate

and stacked it on her own. “What drew you to writing?”

Brooke frowned. “I don’t know that I ever made a conscious

decision. I started playing the guitar when I was twelve and never

put it down. I’ve worked odd jobs when writing didn’t pay the bills.”

“Like what?” Addison deposited their dishes in the sink and

waved off Brooke’s attempt to start cleaning them. “Leave them, I’ll

get them later.” Addison went into the living room and settled on the

sofa. Brooke glanced at the chair nearby, but Addison had dropped

her briefcase in it when she came home from work. For a moment,

Addison wondered if Brooke would move it, but she sat down next

to Addison.

“I waited tables, though I don’t know a songwriter who hasn’t

done that. I also worked as a roadie for a country band’s tour. But

• 140 •

Reluctant Hope

probably my weirdest job was in a chicken-processing plant down

in Shelbyville.”

“Oh, my God, I don’t want to know what you did there.”

Brooke laughed.

“Seriously, we just finished eating chicken.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t the job for me. I didn’t last three months.”

“I don’t think I’d last three days.”

“It wasn’t all that bad. When the chickens came in on the

trucks, I took—”

“No. No, I don’t want to know.” Addison covered Brooke’s

mouth with her hand. Too late, she realized she’d practically flung

herself in Brooke’s lap in order to reach her. She froze, teetering on

the edge of falling into the dark pools of Brooke’s eyes. Her chest

rested against Brooke’s and she felt the rise and fall of her breathing.

“Addison.” Brooke’s voice was muffled as her soft lips moved

against Addison’s palm.

Addison eased back slightly and removed her hand, but she

remained pressed to Brooke’s side.

“Addison, you promised you’d behave.” Brooke sounded like

she had to force her words out.

“I know.” Addison smiled. Brooke’s breathing had picked up

and she balled her hands into fists. “But I don’t want to.”

“God, how did you do this?” Brooke shifted, presumably trying

to put some distance between them, but she was already against the

arm of the sofa so all she did was jostle Addison closer. Addison put

her hand on Brooke’s thigh for balance and fought the urge to slide

it higher.

“Do what?”

“How did you get me from chicken-processing to totally turned

on in under a minute?”

Addison laughed softly. When she squeezed Brooke’s leg, the

muscles twitched. Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand and moved

back to her side of the sofa. “Wow, when you put it like that it almost

kills the mood.”

“Almost?” Brooke flexed open her hands. She shook her head

and her hair fell forward, nearly obscuring one eye.

• 141 •

eRin Dutton

“Yeah, almost. Because now I just want to prove that I could

turn you totally on in another minute.” Addison gently pushed

Brooke’s hair back, sliding her fingers slowly through the silken

strands. She traced her thumb over the arch of her eyebrow and

down her cheekbone.

“You might be right about that.”

“I know I’m right.” Addison was still halfway there herself.

When she touched Brooke’s lower lip, Brooke’s tongue darted out

and swiped across the pad of her thumb. A hot streak of pleasure

shot through Addison. Brooke froze for a second, as if the motion

had been involuntary and unexpected.

“Less than a minute,” Brooke murmured. She pulled one side of

her lower lip between her teeth and her eyes melted like chocolate.

Arousal raced through Addison’s blood, leaving a tingling trail

in its wake. Her control snapped like the recoil of a bungee cord,

and she grasped Brooke’s chin and kissed her, aggressively. The

scrape of Brooke’s teeth on her own lip told her that Brooke felt the

same all-consuming need. She shoved her hands into Brooke’s hair

and urged her closer—kissed her harder. Brooke thrust her tongue

against Addison’s, claiming her.

Brooke grasped Addison’s hips and pulled her into her lap.

Addison broke free only long enough to slide one thigh on either

side of Brooke’s. She covered her mouth again, drinking in the taste

of her, like warm honey, sweet and thick.

“God, I need to touch you.” Brooke kissed her jaw and the

side of her neck. When her lips touched Addison’s earlobe, she

shivered.

Brooke slipped her hand beneath Addison’s shirt and stroked

her skin surprisingly gently, given the force of their kiss. When

Brooke’s fingers brushed the bottom of her bra, panic surged through

Addison. She put her hands on Brooke’s shoulders and pushed back,

desperate to get space between them.

“Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” Brooke’s mouth still moved against her neck.

“I need a minute.” Addison rested her forehead against Brooke’s

and drew in a deep breath, then slowly released it.

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Brooke slid her hands down Addison’s sides, but she didn’t

remove them from her shirt. She left them against her bare skin,

the span of her hands bracketing her waist. Addison’s racing heart

slowed a notch.

“I’m sorry.” Addison took another deep breath. “I know I

started that, and I didn’t expect to be the one to stop it, but—”

“It’s okay.” Brooke tilted her head and kissed Addison’s

forehead.

“I don’t know what happened.” Shaken, Addison eased off

Brooke’s lap and onto the sofa next to her. She hadn’t done this in

quite some time, so she expected to be nervous. But the anxiety that

had swamped her had been strong enough to have her flailing for

solid ground. “It’s been so long, and I have to think about Ramsey.

She really likes you, but I’ve never brought someone I was—

interested in around her.” She fumbled with the false excuses, trying

to cover the tremor of nerves in her voice.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Brooke touched her shoulder and Addison let

herself relax a little against her.

“You’re being far too understanding.”

“You don’t want me to be?”

“No. It would help my ego if you were a bit more sexually

frustrated.”

“Maybe I just hide it well.”

Addison nodded. A confusing mix of arousal and tension still

muddled her ability to think.

Brooke’s serious expression suddenly lightened and a slight

smile touched her lips. She withdrew her hands. “Kissing you

is—amazing—incredible. But I don’t think I could have gone any

further right now anyway.”

“No?”

“No. I’d be thinking about what you said about letting strangers

feel you up.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Brooke chuckled. “Mostly. But now that I’ve said it, there

might be a little truth there.”

“Is this—um, permanent?”

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“Lord, I hope not.”

Addison recaptured Brooke’s hand and lightly stroked her

palm. She pressed Brooke’s hand against the center of her chest and

held it there. She closed her eyes briefly and concentrated on the

warmth of her hand. “I’m not just reluctant because of Ramsey.”

“I figured. But she’s as good a reason as any to slow things

down.”

“So, where does this leave us?”

“Addison, I can’t—”

“You said kissing me was amazing.”

“I did. But—”

“Let’s start there. I like kissing you, too, and I’d like to do it

again.” Addison angled forward and pressed her lips to Brooke’s.

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cHapteR FouRteen

Brooke crossed from the parking lot to a bench near the

playground, leaving a trail of footprints in the dew-covered

grass. She was surprised at the number of people already in the park,

given the early hour.

As she settled on the bench, a woman pushing a jog stroller

with a heavily bundled baby inside ran by. A man followed his dog

as it sniffed a meandering path through the wet grass, and when it

stopped, he pulled a plastic bag from his pocket and waited.

Brooke sat completely still, opening herself to the layers of

sound around her. The mingled laughter and shouts from several

children on the playground came in bursts, and every so often, a

bird chirped in a nearby tree. On another bench a few feet away,

two women spoke Spanish, and though she didn’t understand their

words, the cadence of their speech was familiar. Farther away, the

crunch of tires against rough pavement signaled the arrival of more

people.

Listening calmed Brooke, helped her concentrate on something

besides whatever was on her mind. Every so often she heard

something that inspired a piece of music, a sound that evoked a

feeling she wanted to capture. Sometimes she could clear her mind

enough to tackle that issue and, sometimes, she just needed the

distraction. Today, she felt a little of both.

She couldn’t avoid thinking about Addison. In fact, she hadn’t

been able to stop thinking about her in the three days since they’d

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kissed on Addison’s sofa. When she could put the taste of Addison’s

lips out of her mind, she thought instead about the varied shades

of gray in Addison’s eyes as her emotions shifted. She’d been

torturing herself with instant replays of their kisses, complete with

slow motion and sappy theme music. But the surge of arousal that

accompanied those moments was nearly as strong as when she was

immersed in Addison, and she found no relief tossing and turning

alone in her bed.

Despite how far Brooke let her imagination go, in reality, she

wasn’t entirely comfortable with how they’d left things Wednesday

night. She’d practically stumbled away from that second kiss,

stuttering about what a good time she had at the zoo. Addison had

walked her to the door and hugged her and kissed her again, this

time a peck on the lips. Since then, she’d been avoiding Addison,

answering her texts briefly, only enough to avoid a confrontation.

More than anything, she fought her own desire to see Addison.

On Thursday and Friday, she’d managed by telling herself Addison

was at her job. So, instead, she’d forced herself to work. She’d made

some headway on the melody for a new song, but her heart wasn’t

really in it.

Today, she’d awakened intent on getting out of the house. Her

mother had always said that fresh air could cure half of what ailed

you. But since she didn’t have her mother’s green thumb, Brooke

opted for a walk in the park. Granted, so far all she’d done was sit

on a bench and daydream.

She stood and set out along the same path she’d walked with

Addison just a few weeks ago. They had argued and Addison had

stormed off. Brooke had been equally angry, but not entirely with

Addison. She was angry with Diane, but since she wasn’t around,

Addison made an easier target.

As Brooke followed a bend in the path that led under a canopy

of trees, the air around her felt cooler and heavier. A familiar, sick

knot of loneliness tightened in Brooke’s stomach. Brooke had felt

the same ache often as a child. Her mother and father had already

given up on becoming parents and built their own life around each

other when she came along. On the surface, they had done everything

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right, raised her in a safe, secure home. But she’d sometimes felt she

intruded on their relationship.

Then one day, when Brooke was in junior high, the new girl

at school had sat down beside her in the cafeteria. Diane didn’t

care that Brooke wasn’t popular or that she kept nearly everything

crammed inside of herself. Diane sat with her every day, talking

about anything and everything, while Brooke merely nodded, until,

without even realizing it, Brooke began to respond. They talked

about every bit of their lives up to that point, and from then on, they

shared each new experience with each other as well.

When Brooke came to Diane with that same knot in her stomach,

worried that she would lose Diane’s friendship, and confided that

she had a crush on another girl in their class, Diane just hugged her

and said it would be okay. When Diane fell in love with a football

player, who took her virginity and bragged about it all over school,

Brooke sat with her while she cried in her bedroom the entire next

weekend.

Diane had been the one to loosen the knot in Brooke’s stomach

all those years ago. She had given Brooke unconditional friendship

and support, through her career and her relationships. But then

with one word—cancer—the thread of loneliness had begun to coil

again. In the three months since Diane’s death, that ball of pain had

become a constant for Brooke. With her parents gone, and now

Diane, she was truly alone in the world. No one wondered where

she was or worried if she didn’t call.

Her phone buzzed against her hip, and Brooke glanced at the

display— Addison. Brooke slowed, then stepped out of the way of

an oncoming jogger as she stared at her phone. She decided not

to analyze the timing of the call. Giving in to her desire to talk to

Addison, she clicked the Answer button.

“Hello.”

“Hey, I—uh, well, for some reason I didn’t expect you to

answer. But I haven’t heard from you and just wanted to check in.”

“I’m okay. I’ve been busy—catching up on things.” Brooke

cringed at the obvious lie. She didn’t have things to catch up on, and

she was certain Addison knew that.

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“Oh.”

Yep, Addison knew. The quiet hum of static on the line mocked

Brooke as she searched for something to say. “How’ve you been?”

she blurted, running it all together so it came out more like one long

word.“Good. We’re good.”

“That’s good.” If she thought it would help, Brooke would

have smacked herself in the forehead.

“Would you like to come over?” Addison asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Ramsey’s with Charles today.”

“That’s not the only reason I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Brooke sat on a large rock at the edge of the trail and pulled her

knees up to her chest.

“Then what else is stopping you?”

Brooke battled with her instinct to pull back emotionally. She

wanted to remain closed off, wanted to keep things from Addison.

But just hearing her voice eased some of the ache inside.

“Brooke?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what it means when you get quiet like this.”

Brooke didn’t respond.

Addison sighed. “This is silly. Where are you?”

“At the park.”

“Do you want me to meet you there, or are you coming over

here so we can talk face-to-face?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“See you then.”

Brooke hung up and headed toward her car. She wasn’t more

than five minutes from Addison’s house, but she wanted the extra

time to take the long way back to the parking lot. She wasn’t entirely

sure how much Addison would push her to talk once she got there,

but she needed to get a grip on the emotions she’d stirred up while

thinking about Diane.

❖

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Reluctant Hope

“Are you sure you won’t come inside?”

Brooke shook her head. “This is safer.”

“You can at least sit down.” Addison patted the seat of the

swing next to her. Brooke had knocked on her door five minutes

ago, then insisted they stay outside.

“I’m good.” Brooke leaned against the porch railing a few feet

away.“What’s going on, Brooke? Are you that weirded out because

I kissed you?”

“No.”

“Well, then, why do I feel this tension between us?” Despite

the uneven way they left things, Addison had expected to hear from

Brooke on Thursday. She waited until Thursday night and sent an

exploratory text and received a terse reply from Brooke. She didn’t

want to seem too eager, so she didn’t text or call again, even though

she hated such game-playing. But Friday afternoon she caved and

sent another text and, again, got a brief response that didn’t invite

further conversation. She’d called this morning expecting to leave

a message, but as soon as she heard Brooke’s voice, she wanted to

see her.

“Do we really have to discuss this?” Brooke shoved a hand

through her hair, but the dark strands immediately fell back over her

forehead.

“Do you just want to forget about the kiss, keep working on the

fund-raiser, then go our separate ways?” Addison held her breath,

steeling herself for an affirmative answer, but Brooke remained

silent. Brooke wanted her to back off, Addison could feel that. And

she knew she probably should.

She’d given Ramsey a stable, comfortable routine. If she left

things as they had been, her own heart would be safe. But she’d

learned long ago that life was too short to be less than honest.

Brooke interested her more than anyone had in years, and maybe

that was reason enough to take a chance.

She stood and took the three steps that she hoped would

close the distance between them. She gathered Brooke’s left hand

between hers and stroked her thumb against the inside of her fingers.

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Brooke’s fingertips were callused, and Addison remembered the

agile way they moved over her guitar.

“I don’t want to pretend nothing is happening between us.”

Addison met Brooke’s eyes and saw the fear there, but she held her

gaze, trying to exude more confidence than she actually felt. “I need

to know one thing, though. Are you attracted to me because you

miss Diane and you’re lonely?”

“No.”

“That was a quick answer. You didn’t even think about it.”

“I don’t need to. I’m attracted to you in spite of my loneliness.”

Addison rubbed her thumb over Brooke’s palm. “But you’re

afraid to act on that attraction.”

A ghost of a smile touched Brooke’s lips, then disappeared.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you are. I understand why. Diane was your best

friend, and I think you may even have been a little in love with her.”

Brooke drew her eyebrows together and tried to pull her hand

free, but Addison held on. “I wasn’t in love with her. We were friends.”

“You don’t think you compared the women you dated to her?

When was the last time you had a serious relationship?”

“What difference does that make? Just because I haven’t met

anyone I wanted to be with in a while, you can’t say I was in love

with my straight best friend. I’m not some stupid adolescent.”

Brooke jerked her hands free and headed for the stairs leading to

the sidewalk.

“Wait, Brooke. Please, don’t go.” Addison took a step forward,

to the edge of the porch.

Brooke stopped but still faced away from her. “Why are we

even talking about this? You’ve been almost as resistant to anything

happening between us as I have. You didn’t want to complicate the

life you have with Ramsey and Charles. What changed your mind?”

Addison shrugged, then realized Brooke couldn’t see her. “I

don’t know. I like my life. But I also like spending time with you.

You make me feel good. Can’t that be enough for now?”

“This never works, you know.” Brooke turned around and

looked up at her. “People say they can get involved and not think

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about the future, keep it casual, whatever, but it never turns out that

way. One person always gets more invested than the other.”

“I know.” Addison was almost certain that she would be that

person. And she asked herself the same question Brooke had, why

was she suddenly willing to take that chance? Brooke’s eyes were

soft and vulnerable, and Addison wanted more than anything to hold

her. “But you still want to do this?”

Addison descended the three steps between them and wrapped

her arms around Brooke’s neck. Brooke circled Addison’s waist and

rested her hands against the small of Addison’s back. The warmth

of Brooke’s hands through her cotton shirt set off sparks along her

spine.“Yes, I do,” she whispered, turning her face into Brooke’s neck

and nuzzling her soft skin. She pressed her lips just below Brooke’s

ear. When she gently sucked her earlobe, Brooke shivered and tilted

her head to block her access.

“If this goes too much further, we should take it somewhere

other than your front yard,” Brooke said.

“Yeah? How much further do you want it to go?” Addison

eased back and smiled.

“I’m not sure, but if your neighbor across the street keeps

trimming the same shrub that gives him the perfect view of us

standing here, it won’t have any leaves left.”

Addison grabbed Brooke’s hand and pulled her toward the

front door. “I knew I could get you inside somehow.”

❖

Brooke sat on the couch and watched Addison practically flit

around the room. She swept up a stack of mail from the coffee table

and moved it to the kitchen. She straightened several coloring books

and magazines on the end table. She turned on the lamp, then turned

it back off.

“Was that too much light? Not enough?” When she started

away again, Brooke caught her hand.

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“Sit down.”

Addison sank onto the couch beside her. “I really made that

easy on you, you know. I practically had to beg you to sit with me

out there.” She nodded toward the front door.

“Are you okay?” Brooke circled her fingers around Addison’s

wrist and caressed her tender skin. She trailed a line lightly up the

inside of her forearm to her elbow and back down.

“I—um—”Addison grabbed her hand and stilled it. “I can’t

think when you do that.”

Addison’s shy smile touched Brooke. On the porch, she’d

seemed so certain about what they should do, so much so that she’d

won Brooke over. With one embrace, Addison had seduced Brooke

into setting aside her doubts, even if only temporarily. Things might

get messy later, but when she looked at Addison right now, later

seemed so far away.

“What do you need to think about?” Brooke reclaimed

Addison’s wrist and stroked slow circles inside her palm.

Addison angled toward Brooke. “Well, for all my openness

about my treatment and teasing you about my implants, I’m feeling

quite tentative with this part of it.”

“This part?” Brooke raised Addison’s hand and kissed the ridge

of her knuckles.

“I haven’t been—physical with anyone in a long time.”

“How long?”

“Let’s just say a very long time.”

“Well, the mechanics of it haven’t really changed.” Brooke

grinned.

Addison raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because I figured it had

probably gone all high-tech by now.”

“Probably. But I’m an old-fashioned girl. All I need is you. I’m

not trying to rush you.” Brooke kissed the inside of Addison’s palm

and smiled. “Okay, maybe I am a little. But you started it outside

with that whole ear thing. Do you want to slow down?”

“It’s not that. Not really.” Addison drew a deep breath then

released it. “Oh, hell. It’s not that big a deal. I don’t know why I’m

having trouble getting it out.”

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Reluctant Hope

“Whatever it is, just say it.”

“Okay. Cancer and pregnancy weren’t necessarily kind to my

body.”

Brooke ran her eyes over Addison’s figure. She’d admired her

curves in a wide range of attire that now included the worn blue

jeans and green cotton button-down she wore today. “You have a

great body.”

“With clothes on, maybe. But I have scars and stretch marks

that’ll send you running for sure.”

“You think I’m that shallow?”

Addison covered Brooke’s hand. “It’s not about you. It’s me.

I’m just not comfortable with myself.”

“We all have insecurities about ourselves. I could list a handful

of things I hate about my body without giving it any thought.”

“Well, this might be a bit more than that.”

Brooke shifted forward and rested her hands on Addison’s

knees. Pushing aside her own hesitance about letting things progress,

she focused on making Addison comfortable. She met Addison’s

eyes and waited until she was certain Addison saw the sincerity in

her own, then said, “You’re beautiful.”

Before Addison could argue, Brooke kissed her. Reminding

herself to be patient, she slowly caressed Addison’s lips. As Addison

slipped her tongue confidently against Brooke’s, a ripple of pleasure

spread outward.

“I’m glad you think so.” Addison rested her forehead against

Brooke’s and undid the top button of her shirt.

“You have to know you’re gorgeous. But that’s not what I

mean.” Brooke brushed her hands away and slipped the next button

free. The verdant vee of her shirt parted to reveal a creamy wedge

of skin and a hint of cleavage. Brooke moaned in appreciation and

worked open the next few buttons. A pale-pink bra embraced her

breasts, and Brooke traced the lacy edge, then dipped her fingertip

lower. “You’re beautiful.”

Addison had spent the past nine years trying to tell herself that

her scars didn’t matter, that saving her life had been more important.

While that was definitely true at first, once she was out of danger,

her vanity had resurfaced.

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“Sure, they look great when you dress them up.” A seed of

panic unfurled like the new shoots of an unwanted weed in the

garden. Determined to ignore it, she slid her shirt off, then contorted

her arm behind her and promptly unsnapped her bra. She shrugged

her shoulders forward and let it fall into her lap.

Brooke met her eyes. “Wow, you just ruined my moment. I was

going to tenderly undress you, revealing your breasts slowly.”

Addison smiled. “Oh, and I messed it up.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Well, maybe we’ll just have to try another time.” Clutching

her bra to her chest, Addison grinned and picked up her shirt. Before

she could get her arm in the sleeve, Brooke whipped the shirt from

her hand.

“I can probably get the mood back.”

“Yeah?”

Brooke caressed Addison’s hands until she opened them, then

she lifted the bra free and set it aside. She dropped her eyes. “Oh,

yes, absolutely.”

Addison fought the urge to fidget as Brooke stared at her

breasts. She looked down and tried to see them as Brooke might. The

horizontal scar that bisected one side of her right breast had faded

over the years, but the absence of a nipple was probably startling.

The crease beneath her breast hid the scar from the implant on her

left side. Her breasts weren’t evenly weighted, and her right one was

slightly misshapen, not enough to see when she had clothes on, but

it was evident now.

This was a bad idea. She looked around for her shirt, but Brooke

had flung it into the chair nearby. She grabbed the throw from the

back of the sofa and hugged it to her chest. Brooke wrapped her

hand gently around Addison’s forearm, eased Addison’s arm down,

and took away the blanket.

Addison raised her eyes to Brooke’s face, and what she saw

took her breath away. When Brooke’s worshipping gaze moved over

her chest, Addison had never felt more cherished. For the first time

in a very long time, she didn’t feel broken.

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Reluctant Hope

Brooke cupped her breast, curving her fingers around it

deliberately. She rolled Addison’s nipple between her thumb and

forefinger, and it puckered in response.

“Can you feel that?”

“Yes. I didn’t lose any sensation in that one.”

Brooke lowered her head and kissed her nipple, then pulled

the tight flesh gently into her mouth. Pinpoints of pleasure radiated

through Addison. She shoved her hands into Brooke’s hair and

pulled her closer, arching her back to give Brooke better access.

While Brooke’s lips and teeth worked her sensitive nipple, she

cupped her hand around Addison’s other breast and her thumb fell

against the spot where her nipple should have been. Addison gasped

and pulled back.

“Wait.”

Brooke lifted her head slowly, as if fighting a haze of arousal.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. I need a minute.” She covered Brooke’s hand and

moved it aside.

“Did I do something?”

“No. I’m sorry.” Addison took Brooke’s hand and placed it back

on her breast. “It’s just, no one but my doctor and I have touched me

there since the surgery.”

“I don’t have to—”

When Brooke started to pull back, Addison stopped her. She

had areas of permanent numbness on the underside of her breast,

but, where she did have feeling, Brooke’s skin was warm and soft.

When Brooke’s thumb had brushed the scarred area where her

nipple would have been, Addison had felt a swift ache for the loss of

a part of her womanhood. But since she couldn’t undo her past, she

held Brooke’s hand there, getting used to the new sensation.

“I opted not to have nipple reconstruction.”

“Why?” Brooke didn’t sound judgmental, only curious.

“I didn’t want to be put completely back together, as if I could

pretend everything was normal again.”

Brooke continued looking at her, first caressing her nipple, then

smoothing her finger over the top of her other breast. Addison had

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lived with the results of her surgery for long enough to be accustomed

to the way she looked, but she’d never had anyone else’s opinion to

consider.

“Does it bother you?” Addison caught Brooke’s hand and

threaded their fingers together.

“No. But if you need more time, we can stop.” Brooke swept

her tongue over her lower lip, and while Addison was certain she

only did so to moisten it, her body reacted in other ways. Only

minutes ago, she’d felt that tongue against her own, Brooke’s

beautiful mouth moving with purpose over her skin.

“I don’t need more time.” She cradled Brooke’s face in

her hands and kissed her. I only need you. She stopped short of

saying the words provisionally, despite how much of herself she’d

revealed, they still felt too intimate. She already knew she wanted

too much from Brooke, more than Brooke was ready to give. So,

instead, she surrendered to the slow burn that the taste of Brooke’s

lips rekindled.

Brooke shifted over her, pressing her back into the arm of the

sofa. She braced her hands on either side of Addison, holding her

weight away from her. Addison wrapped her arms around Brooke’s

waist and pulled her closer. Her leg slipped between Brooke’s thighs.

Addison pressed her mouth to the side of Brooke’s throat and felt

her pulse against her lips.

“You should take this off. I need your skin.” Addison tugged at

Brooke’s shirt.

Brooke straightened, kneeling, and while she pulled her shirt

over her head, Addison opened the fly of her jeans. Brooke released

the clasp on her bra and let it fall to the floor. Addison reached for

the triangle of gray cotton she’d revealed, but before she could touch

it, Brooke lowered herself back over her.

Brooke’s stomach rested against hers, her upper body angled

away. Thick, dark nipples tipped Brooke’s small breasts. Addison

dragged her hands up Brooke’s ribs and cupped her breasts. She

gasped when Brooke’s nipples tightened before she even touched

them. She skated a thumb over one, barely grazing it, and watched

it knot even further.

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Reluctant Hope

“God, Addison, touch me, please,” Brooke said through gritted

teeth. She sighed, then moaned when Addison complied, squeezing

her between a thumb and forefinger.

Brooke rolled her hips against Addison’s and Addison pushed

back, desperate to get the rest of their clothes off. Addison shoved

her hands into the back of Brooke’s jeans, grabbing the waistband of

her panties. As she scooted down to reach more of Brooke, her neck

crooked against the arm of the sofa.

“Brooke.”

Brooke’s mouth blazed a hot streak down the center of

Addison’s chest.

“Hold on.”

She stopped and lifted her head, concern flooding her eyes.

Addison laid her palm against her cheek. She started to sit up, and

Brooke took her hands and pulled her up. Addison held onto her

hand and stood, then led Brooke down the hall to her bedroom.

Brooke stood next to her bed, looking uncertain and quite

gorgeous. Her bare torso tapered, then flared slightly before

disappearing inside her jeans. Her fly was still open and the

waistband of her panties rode low against her flat stomach.

“Making out with you on the sofa is hot, but I’m too old to do

it there without needing a chiropractor tomorrow.” Addison teased

her, trying to put Brooke at ease.

Brooke smiled.

Addison pushed one hand inside her jeans. Brooke’s panties

were damp, and Addison felt a rush of moisture and a heavy throb

between her own thighs. She instinctively squeezed Brooke, and

Brooke gripped her elbow.

“Jesus, Addison. I won’t last if you keep that up.” She eased

Addison’s hand out of her jeans.

“Don’t worry. We can do it again later.”

Addison grasped Brooke’s jeans and shoved them down.

Brooke kicked out of them and slid her panties down as well. She

helped Addison finish undressing. When they were both naked,

Addison circled her arms around Brooke’s waist and pulled her onto

the bed.

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Brooke hovered over her, stroking her stomach, her hips, her

thighs, all while her mouth moved over her neck. Her teeth closed

on Addison’s earlobe. Addison twisted her head, seeking Brooke’s

mouth, then finding it and sucking her tongue into her mouth. The

feel, the scent, the taste of Brooke infused her and overloaded her

senses.

As they explored together, the room filled with their panting

breath and soft moans. Brooke worked her way down Addison’s

body, her fingers drawing a map for her questing mouth. She circled

her navel and detoured through the crease where her hip and thigh

met. When Brooke’s fingers parted her and grazed her clitoris,

suddenly Addison was the one fighting to hold out. Her heart pounded

so loud she was certain Brooke must be able to hear it. Brooke kissed

the inside of her thigh. She looked up and met Addison’s eyes and

held them for a second before lowering her head.

“Brooke,” Addison whispered. Her hips lifted, almost on their

own, anticipating Brooke’s touch.

Brooke slid inside her, at the same time slipping her tongue

into her moist folds. Addison nearly sighed in relief as that single

stroke fulfilled the promise of pleasure, but a rush of need followed,

overtaking her when Brooke drew her fingers back and surged

forward again, slow and deep.

Brooke devoured her, licking and sucking her swollen, sensitive

flesh. Addison trembled and hurtled too quickly toward release. A

plea for Brooke to slow down formed in her mind but never made

it to her lips. She clung to Brooke, scratching her nails against her

shoulder blades.

Every thrust of Brooke’s fingers created a current that threatened

to sweep her away. She fisted one hand in Brooke’s hair and ground

against her, fighting her impending orgasm for as long as she could

before letting it overtake her. Her muscles seized and jerked under

the onslaught of sensations, then finally went slack, leaving Addison

panting and weak.

Brooke slowed with her, easing her down. Addison lay still,

unable to move, and Brooke shifted to rest against her side. When

• 158 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke slowly withdrew her fingers, Addison’s exhausted body

seemed reluctant to let them go.

Brooke moved up to lie beside her. Settling the sheet over both

of them, she gathered Addison against her side.

“That was amazing.” Replete, Addison closed her eyes and

sighed.

• 159 •

• 160 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR FiFteen

Brooke opened her eyes to the unfamiliar sight of a brushed-

nickel lamp on a cherry nightstand. She smiled, rolled onto

her back, and stretched. Her muscles pulled with the pleasant echo of

the previous night’s exertion. After the first time, they’d napped. Then

when they woke up, Addison made them grilled-cheese sandwiches

for dinner. But the sight of Addison in the kitchen in only a short

silk robe distracted Brooke so much that she dragged her back to the

bedroom, where they stayed for the rest of the evening.

Addison lay beside her, facing the other way. The sheet draped

across her torso, leaving her shoulder bare. Brooke didn’t want to

wake her, but she itched to trace the freckles sprinkled across her

ivory skin. Unable to stop herself, she touched Addison’s shoulder.

Addison murmured and snuggled against her. Brooke inched closer,

pressing against Addison’s back, and slid her arm around Addison’s

waist, settling her hand against her stomach.

“Good morning,” she whispered in Addison’s ear.

“Morning.” Addison covered her hand.

Brooke pressed her lips to Addison’s neck, then her cheek.

Addison shifted onto her back, wrapped her arm around Brooke,

and pulled her down for a kiss.

“Did you sleep well?” Brooke asked.

Addison glanced at the clock. “Six solid hours.”

“I should have let you sleep a little longer.” She rose on one

elbow and ran her fingers over Addison’s bare stomach, watching

muscles flex and jump in response. “I can’t stop touching you.”

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“Yeah?” Addison caressed Brooke’s hip. “Are you a morning

person?” Her suggestive tone was enough to make Brooke wet.

“I could be. What time is Ramsey due home?”

Addison shrugged. “Charles and his mother were taking her

to church. They’ll probably go out for brunch afterward. Are you

worried about her?”

“Are you?”

“I asked you first. I know you said you didn’t want kids.

Oh, God, not that I expect you to think of Ramsey as yours. But,

generally, someone who doesn’t want kids wouldn’t want to be

around other people’s children either. And even if this is something

casual, Ramsey and I are a package deal.”

“Ah, well, I like Ramsey. So, no worries about that. Besides, all

I said was, children weren’t in my plan.”

“They weren’t in mine either when I was your age, at least not

as anything more than an abstract, maybe-someday type of thing.

You have time to figure it out.”

“Not that much. I’m almost thirty. I should have figured some

of these things out by now.” Brooke rolled onto her back and folded

her hands under her head. Something casual. That’s what Addison

had said. And that should have been perfect, because Brooke

couldn’t handle anything else right now. She shouldn’t have gone

to bed with Addison, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. Being

with Addison last night was amazing, and she didn’t want to start

this day with regrets. So she vowed to not get too involved and to

let it run its course.

Addison lay against her shoulder, resting her hand in the center

of her chest. “So what are you doing today?”

“Hmm. First I have to figure out how to drag myself out of your

bed.” Brooke covered Addison’s hand and kissed her forehead.

“I have an idea about how to get you out of bed.” Addison

slipped away, clutching the sheet against her body. She took two

steps toward the bathroom and let the sheet drop. “Join me in the

shower,” she said over her shoulder.

“Oh, hell, yes.” Brooke practically leapt out of bed and

followed.

• 162 •

Reluctant Hope

Brooke could see Addison’s decorating touch in the large

bathroom. Like in the bedroom, modern fixtures with simple lines

mixed well with feminine touches. A double vanity with white vessel

sinks held a small bouquet of dried lavender and various bottles

of scented lotions and perfumes. Against the far wall a bathtub

stretched beneath a window. Six votive candles in glass cups lined

the edge of the tub.

Addison swiped her hand across the glass of the large shower

stall, clearing a swath of steam. “Are you coming?”

Brooke opened the door and stepped inside. The cubicle was

twice the size of a normal shower. Sandstone tile and a built-in bench

created a spa-like atmosphere. Addison pushed Brooke against the

opposite wall.

“I told you I could get you out of bed,” she said before she

covered Brooke’s mouth with hers.

“Hey, lady, I came in here to shower,” Brooke teased her,

pretending to push her away.

“Oh, okay. Let’s do that then.” Addison shoved Brooke under

the hot spray.

Brooke laughed, then wrapped her arms around Addison’s

waist and pulled her under the water with her. Addison wiggled

free. She grabbed a bottle of citrus-scented body wash and squeezed

some onto a bath pouf.

She worked the soap into lather and rubbed it down the center

of her chest. When she circled her breast and left a trail of suds

across her fair skin, Brooke reached for her.

“No. You wanted to shower.” Addison held up her hand and

stepped back. She rubbed the soap over her torso, her eyes locked

on Brooke’s.

Brooke could practically feel Addison’s wet, fragrant skin

sliding under her fingers. But every time she tried to touch her,

Addison batted her hands away. She continued bathing herself with

a smug smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing to

Brooke. She washed every inch of her body, seeming to take extra

time and care, while Brooke looked on helplessly. Brooke tried to

fake indifference but couldn’t take her eyes off Addison.

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But when Addison’s hand moved down her belly and between

her legs, Brooke had to act. As appealing as the idea of watching

Addison touch herself was, Brooke hadn’t gotten enough of Addison

yet. She brushed Addison’s hand aside and replaced it with her own.

“Addison,” she moaned as she sank two fingers into her wet

folds.“God, Brooke.” Addison slumped weakly against her, wrapping

her arm around her neck.

Brooke eased her over to the tiled bench at the end of the stall.

Addison sat and Brooke knelt on one knee in front of her.

“You’ll hurt your knees.” Addison tried to pull Brooke onto the

bench with her, but Brooke stayed on the floor.

“They’re fine. I need you again.” Brooke kissed Addison’s

knee. The shower spray beat against her back as she slipped her

fingers back between Addison’s thighs and teased her firm clitoris.

She stroked it lightly, then more firmly, then when Addison began to

move her hips, she eased the pressure again. She kissed Addison’s

breast, warm and flushed from the hot water.

Addison responded to every touch, thrusting against Brooke’s

hand and grasping her shoulders desperately. Need built in Brooke,

making her ache for friction against her own clit. Addison braced

herself against the wall, spreading her legs in invitation. When

Brooke eased her fingers inside, Addison arched her back. Her wet

hair clung to her face and neck, her eyes were heavy-lidded, and

her mouth parted as she gasped for breath. Brooke had never seen

anything more beautiful.

Brooke bowed her back and thrust forward, shifting her weight

into each stroke. Addison pushed back against her, her feet scrambling

for purchase on the wet tile. She wedged her heels against Brooke’s

thighs, getting the leverage she needed in order to draw Brooke deeper.

Addison’s cries echoed through the room, nearly incoherent

sounds of encouragement that drove Brooke on. She poured herself

into every stroke, silently giving Addison everything she couldn’t

put into words.

“I’m so close,” Addison rasped. Her thighs trembled against

Brooke’s shoulders.

• 164 •

Reluctant Hope

“What do you need?”

“Your mouth. Don’t stop.”

Still rocking her fingers in and out, Brooke spread Addison’s legs

wider and sucked her. She pulled Addison’s clit into her mouth and

flicked her tongue against it. She forced her own clawing desire aside

and concentrated on reading Addison’s desire. When Addison neared

the summit, Brooke held on while Addison rode toward release.

Addison cried out a final time and clamped her hand on the

back of Brooke’s neck. When the pulsing around her fingers eased,

Brooke gently removed them and laid her head on Addison’s thigh.

“This bench is quite convenient.”

Addison laughed. “This is exactly what I had in mind when I

had it put in.”

Brooke crawled onto the bench next to her and rested against

the wall, the cool tile on her back contrasting with the warm mist

swirling around them. “You did this?”

“Yes. I bought the house before Ramsey was born. I still want

to do a lot of things to it, but this bathroom was one of my first

changes.”

“So, you were planning for this moment? Or maybe I’m being

presumptuous.”

“What do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t assume I’m the first woman you’ve had in here—”

“You’re the first. Did you really need me to say it?”

“No. That’s not what this is about.”

“Good.” Addison stood. She grabbed Brooke’s hand and pulled

her up. “Now, let’s finish this shower so I can take you back to bed.

I’m not done with you yet.” She squeezed a dab of shampoo into

her palm. “Come here.” She rubbed the shampoo into Brooke’s hair.

Despite the hot water, Addison’s fingers against her scalp raised

goose bumps on Brooke’s skin.

Brooke tipped her head back and gave herself over to the feel

of Addison’s hands and the fantasy of this day. She refused to think

about the consequences or the practical reasons this wasn’t a good

idea. God, if Addison could make her feel like this, maybe she was

worth the risk.

• 165 •

eRin Dutton

❖

“Mommy, we’re home.”

Addison straightened her shoulders and tried to control her

expression. Charles and Ramsey entered the kitchen, and Ramsey

dropped her backpack on the floor.

“Take that to your room.” When Ramsey looked like she wanted

to argue, Addison gave her a stern look. Pouting, she grabbed the

strap of the bag and dragged it toward the hallway.

“Pick it up,” Addison called.

Charles smiled. “Did you miss her?”

“Absolutely. Coffee?” Addison pulled the carafe from the

machine and poured a mug.

“No, thanks.” He glanced at his watch. “Is this your first cup?”

He narrowed his eyes and Addison felt him taking in her disheveled

hair, oversized T-shirt, and boxer shorts.

“No, it’s not.” She’d had a cup with Brooke in bed.

“It looks like you just got up. Are you having a lazy day?” He

sat down at the kitchen table.

“I guess I am.”

“Yeah? What did you do all weekend?”

“Brooke came over yesterday and—”

“Mommy, can I watch TV?” Ramsey called as she hurried back

into the room.

“Yes, sweetie. For thirty minutes.” Addison waited until she

heard the television come on before she spoke again. “I slept with her.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Last night?”

Addison nodded.

“How was it?”

“Great. Pretty amazing, actually.”

“Are you going to do it again?”

A hot flush crept up her neck.

“You already have.” He laughed.

“She just—I don’t know—she makes me feel good.”

“Well, yeah, I hope so. Otherwise there would be no point in

sleeping with her again. Wait, was she here this morning?”

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Reluctant Hope

Addison nodded.

“How much did I miss her by?”

Addison glanced at the clock. “About an hour.”

“Damn, we should have skipped brunch.” Charles grinned.

“I’d love to have seen her face if we walked in here while you two

were—”

“Okay, that’s not a good idea.”

“But it would have been funny.”

“She would have been embarrassed. But beyond that, I really

don’t want to confuse Ramsey right now.”

“What’s confusing? She knows Brooke—knows you’re

friends.”

“Yes.” Addison dropped into the chair across from him. “But

she doesn’t need any more information than that. I don’t want her

getting attached to Brooke only to be heartbroken.”

“Honey, that ship has sailed. I watched them at the zoo.

Ramsey’s almost as in love with Brooke as you are.”

“I am not in love with her.”

“No?”

“No. I just like spending time with her. Something about her, I

just—she makes me feel brave.”

“How so?”

“When I’m with her, I’m not as self-conscious about my scars

as I thought I would be. I do things with her that—” Addison stopped,

realizing what she was about to say. Charles wouldn’t want to hear

it, but it was the truth. This morning, she’d walked so brazenly into

the shower naked without giving a thought to her scars, or the pooch

on her belly that she wanted to be flatter, or how she wished her butt

were higher and tighter.

“That’s a good thing. It all sounds good, Addison. So why do

you look worried?”

“Because it all sounds too good.” She propelled herself out of

her chair and across the room.

“Hey, don’t stress about this. You’ve lived in this little family

bubble of ours for too long.” He stood and followed her, then

wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Let this be whatever it’s

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going to be. And if that turns out to be nothing, Ramsey and I’ll be

here to help you through it.”

He really was a good friend. He’d always been there and she’d

never had to question that. But at some point, his primary identity in

her eyes had changed to that of Ramsey’s father.

“I haven’t really seen you, Charles. I’ve been so wrapped up in

myself for—” she shoved a hand through her hair— “Well, since I

got sick, I guess. I needed you.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“I know. But even when I was well again, I got in the habit of

needing you, for myself, then for Ramsey.”

“Remember the good old days, when all we had to worry about

was who was buying beer that night?”

Addison sighed. “Yeah. That was a very long time ago. I got

old.”“I didn’t.” He tossed his head and smoothed two fingers over

the hair at his temple. “I’m ageless.”

She twined her arms around his waist. He enfolded her in a big

embrace and she inhaled his spicy scent. The comfort she found in

being pressed against his solid chest had gotten her through some

tough times, including chemotherapy. But she wasn’t the same

fragile woman he’d held while she shivered with nausea. She was

stronger and could face whatever happened with Brooke. She and

Brooke had come into each other’s lives for a reason, and Addison

was brave enough to find out what it was.

• 168 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR sixteen

You’ve made a big mistake.

Brooke paced her living room, trying to get the thought

out of her head. She’d had an amazing night and an even more

incredible morning with Addison. She should be able to enjoy it

before she let herself freak out.

“You’re a grown woman,” she muttered. “You’re allowed to have

a good time. You’ve slept with women before and didn’t get all spastic

about it. Sure, but those women weren’t Addison. She’s beautiful, and

smart, and fun, and no one has ever made you feel this way.”

Great. Now, in addition to talking to herself, she was answering

herself. That’s what happened to people with no friends. They had

whole conversations with themselves until they eventually went

crazy and got fifty cats and ended up on that television show about

hoarders. And she didn’t even like cats.

“Okay. Calm down. You’re blowing this all out of proportion.”

She strode across the room and grabbed her guitar, then plopped

down on the couch. “You like Addison. She seems to like you.”

She cradled the guitar in her lap and began to play a series of

chord progressions. She’d done the same warm-ups thousands of

times, and the familiar routine eased her anxiety.

“I’m scared. She was right about that.” Brooke nodded as if

agreeing with herself. “She was wrong about me being in love with

Diane. But she was right that I’m afraid of loving anyone. And why

shouldn’t I be?”

• 169 •

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She worked through the chords, then moved on to picking out

a new melody. She used minor chords and dramatic changes to paint

the mood of the piece. She closed her eyes and let the music infuse

her. Humming softly, she played the first few lines over and over

until they felt right. She grabbed a notebook and pen from the end

table and took notes on her progress.

She still knew how to do this. Through all that had happened

with Diane, she’d stuffed her creativity deep down, but for the

first time in months, she felt like she could retrieve it. She’d been

holding everything balled up inside for fear that if she let her pain

out, even a little, she would lose control and never get it back. At

first, when Diane was still alive and fighting her cancer, Brooke

forced herself to be strong for Diane; then later, she stayed frozen

to keep her sanity.

But today, as she poured out her feelings of loss and loneliness,

she released her anguish. Her heartbreak echoed through the loft

along with the sound of her voice breaking as she tried to sing the

melody. She kept writing and playing and singing until her throat

was sore and her fingers cramped. Finally, she set aside her guitar

and curled up in a ball on the couch, wrapped her arms around her

stomach, and cried—deep, wrenching sobs.

Eventually, when she had no more tears left, she rolled onto her

back and splayed her arms above her head. She stared at the ceiling

and opened herself up to all the things she hadn’t allowed herself to

think about.

How could she go on without Diane? She’d been numb for

months, but especially now, when her feelings for Addison confused

her so, she needed her best friend. Diane had known Addison

through their support group. Ironically, if Brooke hadn’t been so

obviously against the group, Diane might have talked to her about

the members. Maybe they would have talked about Addison. Diane

probably liked Addison. If she were here, she would tell Brooke to

stop being afraid and go for it.

Brooke sat up and scrubbed her hands over her face. She would

also tell her to get off her ass and start writing again. Diane had

been pushing her for years to open up and write something from

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Reluctant Hope

her heart. She’d accused Brooke of writing too many emotionless

honky-tonk, cheating songs.

She’d been skating through life superficially, never feeling

anything too deeply. But in the past year, she’d had her share of

emotions. Maybe she could finally fulfill Diane’s wishes and pour

those feelings into her music.

Her phone rang as she picked up her guitar again. She answered

without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey, what are you up to?” Addison’s voice sounded tentative.

Brooke immediately conjured her last image of Addison as she’d

been when she’d left her that morning, sitting on the edge of the bed

with the sheet draped loosely around her.

“Not much.” Brooke wedged the phone between her ear and

her shoulder. She rested her fingers against the strings of her guitar.

“Actually, I’ve just been writing a little.”

“That’s great. I don’t want to interrupt.”

“It’s okay.”

“But if you’re being productive—”

“No. I can get back to it later. How did you know I wanted to

talk to you?” Brooke leaned back and put her feet up on the coffee

table. How did you know this was exactly what I needed right now.

“ESP?”

“Probably not.”

“Are you okay?” Addison’s concerned tone made Brooke want

to share what she’d been feeling while writing. She wanted to tell

her she needed her and ask her to come over.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, instead.

“You sure? There’s something in your voice I can’t place.”

“It’s nothing.”

“If you need to discuss something, I’m here.”

“Did you call to tell me that Ramsey’s with Charles?” Brooke

ignored Addison’s offer. Her emotions were raw, and though she

was certain her tear ducts were empty, she wouldn’t take the chance

of breaking down while on the phone with Addison.

“Not tonight.” Brooke thought she could hear the sexy smile

in Addison’s voice. “She’s actually curled up asleep on the couch

beside me.”

• 171 •

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Unexpectedly, Brooke wished Addison would invite her

over to sit with them. She imagined the two of them next to each

other, drowsy and content to look at each other by the glow of the

television. Maybe she would carry Ramsey to her bed before joining

Addison in their bedroom—er, her bedroom.

“Can I see you tomorrow night?” Brooke asked, still caught up

in her intimate fantasy. “If Ramsey’s going to be there, it can just be

friendly. I could bring a movie.”

“Tomorrow is parents’ night at Ramsey’s preschool.”

“Tuesday?”

“Dinner with my boss.”

“Wednesday? But that’s my final offer. I don’t want to appear

desperate.”

“I have a support-group meeting.”

“Skip it. After Ramsey goes to bed, we can make it more than

just friendly.”

“You could come with me.”

“No, thanks,” Brooke said, not trying to hide her displeasure.

The bubble of happiness in her head around the two women on the

couch ruptured.

“They’re really a great group. Can’t you try to have an open

mind?”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Will you tell me why?” Addison’s soft voice reached out to

her like a supportive hand.

Brooke set her guitar aside and slid to the edge of the couch,

ready to jump up and move if need be.

“Brooke?” Addison asked when she didn’t answer. “Why don’t

you want to go to my support group?”

“Drop it, Addison.”

“I’ll make you a deal. If you go with me, you can come back to

my house afterward and I’ll be as friendly as you want.”

“Damn,” Brooke muttered. Despite her resistance, Addison’s

sexy suggestion turned her on. “You’re really trying to bribe me

with sex?”

“Is it working?”

• 172 •

Reluctant Hope

She wanted to say no. She had solid reasons for wanting to

avoid the group. The last place she wanted to be was the one place

Diane preferred in her waning months. So she could stick to her plan

and continue to refuse, or she could go, pretend being there didn’t

bother her, and avoid talking to Addison about it.

“Okay.”

“Pick me up at a quarter to six. Are you going to hold me to that

whole sex thing?”

“Absolutely. I’m getting something out of this.”

“Good. I hoped you would. See you then.”

❖

“You all right?” Addison whispered

“That’s the fourth time you’ve asked me.”

“Well, I’m worried. You look like you’re about to throw up.”

Addison covered Brooke’s hand and squeezed. Brooke absorbed the

warm sensation of Addison’s skin, but she released her too soon.

“I’m fine.” She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe

slowly. She tried not to think about Diane here, but she kept picturing

her sitting in the chair next to her.

I needed to be here. These people understood the pain I couldn’t

share with you.

She heard Diane’s voice, not weak and breathy like the last

time she’d seen her, but clear and strong. She glanced around, but

no one seemed to notice the empty chair that was talking to her.

Shutting out Imaginary Diane, she focused on the woman leading a

discussion about managing the side effects of chemotherapy.

Brooke remembered all too clearly how Diane’s treatment had

affected her body. Diane tried to keep from Brooke just how sick she

was, but one particular day, she hadn’t been able to hide the nausea

and bone-deep chills.

Across the aisle, Stacey nodded along with everything the

woman was saying. She’d assaulted Brooke almost as soon as they’d

stepped through the door, gushing about how happy Diane would

have been to see her there, and didn’t she feel better being among

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people who knew her pain. Brooke balled her fists and nodded

tightly, resisting the urge to tell Stacey to mind her own business.

Addison took Brooke’s arm and led her away under the pretense of

introducing her to the others.

Now, Brooke listened to one man talk about how difficult

it had been for him to be ill in front of his wife, let alone his

children. He described the toll that his cancer, then his treatment,

had taken on him. He said he had continued to fight because he

didn’t want that to be the way his kids remembered him. Now

he’d been cancer-free for over a year and attended every one of

his son’s basketball games. Children have a short memory and

he was happy to be their hero again. More difficult, he said, was

getting his wife to regard him as a man again. She’d seen him at

his weakest and most beaten and sometimes still treated him as if

he were that broken man.

“If I’m still healthy after five years or ten, will she finally

believe I’m strong again? How do I make her understand that I’m not

someone she needs to take care of anymore? That I’m her husband,

her partner in this marriage,” he said, shaking his head.

Others in the group began chiming in with suggestions. He

listened and nodded along with some of them. Another man told a

similar story and explained that he’d started engaging in daredevil

activities in order to prove to his girlfriend that he was still a man. But

after skydiving, bungee jumping, and drag racing, he’d eventually

had to sit her down and tell her what he was feeling.

Brooke tried to hold on to her dislike of this group, but the

members slowly won her over. She could definitely understand how

such a group might help someone who was dealing with cancer

themselves, or that of a loved one. But, personally, she probably

wouldn’t be back.

❖

Addison sat silently in the passenger seat of Brooke’s car.

When they first left the meeting Addison had tried to engage her

in conversation about the group, but had received only one-word

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Reluctant Hope

answers. She switched topics to something safer, but Brooke wasn’t

any more talkative.

Brooke steered into Addison’s driveway and stopped, the

engine still idling.

“Aren’t you coming in?” Addison asked as she reached for the

door handle.

“I’m not really going to make you deliver on your bribe.”

“Is that because you’re being honorable? Or because you don’t

want to talk about the meeting?”

Brooke shrugged. “I’m just not sure I’m in the mood tonight.”

Addison got out of the car. Brooke probably thought Addison

should just go inside, but Addison didn’t want to leave her alone.

Whether they talked about it or not, she didn’t want to lie in bed

and think about Brooke all alone in her apartment. Addison circled

the car, opened the door, and held out her hand. “Come on. No

expectations and no pressure.”

Brooke hesitated.

“We can sit on the porch again if you want to.”

Brooke smiled faintly and took Addison’s hand. Addison led

her to the porch and hesitated.

“We can go inside,” Brooke said.

Addison unlocked the door and waited for Brooke to enter. Her

babysitter sat on the couch in front of the television.

“Any problems?” Addison asked.

“She went right to bed at seven.”

Addison gave her several folded bills and walked her to the

door. She waited until she’d gotten into her car and backed out

before she turned off the porch light.

“Make yourself at home. I’m just going to look in on her,”

Addison said to Brooke as she headed for the hallway.

She stuck her head into Ramsey’s room. Ramsey had kicked off

her covers and lay sprawled across the middle of her bed. Addison

gathered her up and turned her to rest her head on the pillow, then

pulled the sheet and comforter up to her shoulders.

When she returned to the living room, Brooke had settled on

the couch. Addison sat next to her and immediately took her hand,

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wanting the physical contact. When Brooke had picked her up

earlier, they’d shared a quick kiss, but other than the quick clasp of

their hands during the meeting, they hadn’t touched.

Addison stretched her other arm along the back of the sofa and

brushed her fingers against the back of Brooke’s neck. Brooke’s

expression changed and she tilted her head into Addison’s hand.

Addison slid her hand into Brooke’s hair at the base of her skull and

massaged the back of Brooke’s head. Her fingers brushed the curve

of Brooke’s ear and Brooke shivered.

“Addison.” Brooke’s voice was low and raspy. “I told you, I

wasn’t serious about the bribe.”

“That’s not what this is about. I missed you today. I wanted to

touch you.” She leaned back against the arm of the sofa and patted

her chest. “Come here.”

Brooke stretched out and lay half on and half next to Addison.

She rested her head on Addison’s shoulder and her arm across

Addison’s stomach.

“You may have been right about a few things,” Brooke said

quietly.

Addison remained silent, sensing this wasn’t one of those times

when Brooke needed to be pushed. Brooke didn’t speak for several

minutes, but Addison held her questions in.

“I wasn’t in love with Diane, at least not in a romantic way.

But maybe I did compare the women I dated to her. At some point,

she became the kind of woman I was looking for.” She lifted her

head and met Addison’s eyes. “But I can live with my exes not

measuring up to her. I’m having a hard time living without my best

friend.”

Addison stroked Brooke’s cheek. “I can imagine how difficult

that is.”

Brooke laid her head back down and slipped her hand under the

hem of Addison’s shirt. “I hated that she seemed to need that group

so much. It’s not that hard to figure out why. Your group gave her

something I couldn’t. And I’d have done anything for her, to help

her, to save her.”

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“Oh, honey, she knew that. But you couldn’t save her, and she

knew it broke your heart. She needed to let go, and she couldn’t ask

you to help her do that.”

Brooke took a deep, shaky breath, and Addison guessed she

was trying to keep from crying. Addison held her tighter and stroked

her head.

“My parents live near Philadelphia. When I was diagnosed, my

mother basically moved in with me. She went crazy trying to find

things she could do for me, from cleaning my house to running my

errands. I knew it was hard for her to watch me go through it, but I

needed to fight on my own. And it would kill me to see Ramsey get

diagnosed, especially since I’m passing on my bad genes to her.”

“That’s not a guarantee that she’ll get it, is it?”

“No, but I increased her odds.”

“But don’t you also increase her awareness? If she knows to be

vigilant, she’ll probably catch it early and have a good prognosis.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way.” She’d only felt selfish when

thinking about Ramsey. Brooke’s outlook didn’t change Ramsey’s

genetics, but it did give Addison a bit of hope that while she

might inadvertently make Ramsey’s life more difficult, she wasn’t

necessarily passing on a death sentence.

• 177 •

• 178 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR seventeen

Oh, God, Addison, don’t stop.” Brooke pushed her hips

against Addison’s thrusting fingers. “Oh, please. Don’t

stop.”Brooke fisted her hands in the sheet next to her hips and ground

against Addison’s hand, the force of her motions flexing Addison’s

fingers back with each push. As if realizing what she was doing, she

suddenly eased up and stopped.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why?”

“I didn’t mean to—uh, I thought I might be hurting you.”

After slowly withdrawing her fingers, Addison moved up to lie

next to her. “You can be a little aggressive if you want to. You aren’t

going to break me.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because sometimes you look at me like you want

to rip my clothes off, but when you touch me it’s as if you’re being

overly careful.”

“I don’t want to be too rough.”

Addison smiled. Physical pain was the least of her worries when

it came to Brooke. She was more likely to get her heart shattered.

She pressed her lips against the side of Brooke’s neck and kissed her

gently, then closed her teeth over the same spot. Brooke sucked in

her breath sharply.

“Was that painful?” she asked against Brooke’s skin.

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“No.”

She bit her again, this time a little harder. “How about that?

Still okay?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s good.”

“And if I roll you over and slap your ass, would that be okay?”

Brooke flushed, but her eyes gave away the excitement

Addison’s words caused.

“I think we both know the lines here, and if you cross one I’ll

let you know. Outside of that, I don’t want you holding back with

me. I’m not fragile and I don’t want you to treat me like I’m still

sick. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, roll over.”

Brooke’s brow furrowed. “Are you seriously going to slap my

ass?”“Maybe.” Addison grabbed Brooke’s hips and pulled her onto

her stomach.

Brooke laughed, then stopped suddenly when Addison crawled

over her. Addison pressed herself firmly against Brooke’s ass, her

breasts resting against Brooke’s back. She bent her head and touched

her lips to Brooke’s ear.

“Do you have any lines I shouldn’t cross?” She smoothed her

hand down Brooke’s side.

Brooke pushed back into Addison. “You could pretty much do

anything you wanted to me right now.”

“Mmm, you make me want to test that.” Addison smiled. She’d

never been quite this brazen before. She eased to Brooke’s side and

traced her hands along Brooke’s spine, into the hollow of her lower

back, and over the curve of her butt. She lifted her hand and, without

giving herself time to hesitate, gave Brooke’s ass an exploratory slap.

Brooke jumped. She whipped her head around and looked over

her shoulder at Addison. “I didn’t think you’d really do it.”

Addison bit her lip and smiled. “What do you think?”

Brooke grinned. “Try again. A little harder.”

Brooke held her gaze as she raised her hand. The sharp sound

of Addison’s second slap cut through the room. Brooke’s eyes

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Reluctant Hope

darkened and she lifted her hips. A shock of arousal shot through

Addison, and the slight sting in her hand excited her.

“Did you like that?” she asked as she touched Brooke’s

reddened skin.

“See for yourself,” Brooke challenged.

Addison moved her hand between Brooke’s legs and underneath

to cup her. Her fingers slid easily through Brooke’s wetness and

inside her. Brooke arched, pushing back into her. Addison pulled

her fingers nearly all the way out and sank them deep into her again.

Brooke thrust against each long, slow stroke.

Addison kissed the small of Brooke’s back, then ran her tongue

over the swell of Brooke’s buttocks. Brooke trembled and moaned.

She rose on her hands and knees.

“I love the way you feel inside me,” Brooke murmured between

panting breaths.

Addison braced her weight on her other arm, bowed her back

over Brooke’s, and pumped her fingers in and out. Brooke let her

head hang between her shoulders and rocked into Addison’s thrusts.

“Harder, baby.” Brooke encouraged her. As she increased her

pace, Addison followed.

Brooke’s body tightened, beneath her and around her, hovering

at the edge of release for several long seconds. The muscle in

Addison’s arm burned from exertion, but she kept on, stroking

faster and harder until Brooke cried out and arched back with one

final thrust. She went rigid, squeezing Addison’s hand between her

thighs, then fell forward, sprawled out on the bed.

Addison eased down beside her. She draped her arm across her

back and traced a lazy figure eight on her shoulder blade. Addison

drew the sheet over them both.

Brooke raised her head and kissed Addison. “You are

wonderful,” she murmured.

“You make me that way. I’ve never been like that with anyone.”

Brooke rolled to her back and stretched her arms above her

head. “That was almost enough to make me glad I went to that

meeting.”

“Almost? Do I need to try a little harder next time?”

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Brooke held the back of Addison’s head and kissed her

forehead. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. That was perfect.

And I am glad I went to the meeting. I understand a little better what

Diane was feeling.”

“Anytime you’d like to go back—”

“That’s not necessary.” Brooke sat up and rested against the

headboard. “I’m glad I went tonight. But I don’t think the meetings

would help me. I can’t process my emotions by talking to a bunch

of strangers.”

Addison pushed herself into a sitting position. “Well, the idea is

that you go on a regular basis, then they aren’t strangers anymore.”

“When we met, you thought it was a good idea for me to meet

these people. But now that you really know me, do you still think I

could open up there?”

“No.”

“That’s my point.”

“Okay.” Addison raised her hands in surrender. “You know that

you have an open invitation. But I won’t bring it up again.”

“Good.” Brooke touched Addison’s face. “These past weeks

have flown by. Can you believe the benefit is this weekend? I still

feel like we’ve missed something and we just won’t know it until it

falls apart on Saturday.”

“That’s normal. I always get that way the week before. But

we’ve gone over the plan so many times. Every act has confirmed

its attendance. Short of someone just not showing up, I don’t know

what could go wrong.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Brooke said with a stern look.

“If something happens, we’ll improvise. Trust me, no matter

how scattered things seem, the event always comes together in the

end.”Brooke nodded. “I’ll admit, nothing has turned out the way I

would have predicted for a while now. For example, if you’d told

me the first day we met that we’d end up here, I wouldn’t have

believed it.”

“I would have.”

“What? Seriously?”

• 182 •

Reluctant Hope

“Yes. The day we met, I said that I ramble when I’m

uncomfortable.”

“I remember.” Brooke laced her fingers into Addison’s.

“You never asked me why I was uncomfortable.”

“Okay. Why were you?”

“I was attracted to you, very much, even then, and I didn’t want

to be.”

“Why not?”

“You really have to ask? You were all surly and—”

“Surly?” Brooke laughed. “I was surly?”

“Yes.” Addison lifted her chin, sticking by her opinion. “That’s

the best way to describe you.”

“I don’t think so. Regardless, I thought you were attractive,

too. I was checking you out in that skirt and charcoal blouse from

the street as you were going into Diane’s house.”

“Yeah?”

Brooke nodded.

“I didn’t see you.”

“I know.” Brooke glanced at the bedside clock and picked up

her shirt from the end of the bed. “I should get going.”

“You don’t have to.” Addison smiled and pushed the sheet

away. The sight of Addison’s naked body was enough to make

Brooke forget why she should leave. Addison’s long, firm legs were

her weakness. Brooke didn’t bother trying not to stare at her trim

thighs, the curve of her calf muscle, her slender ankles, and feet that

were surprisingly sensitive to Brooke’s touch.

“I don’t want to, but you probably need to sleep before work

tomorrow. You said you and Charles have an agreement about

bringing people around Ramsey, and I’d rather not try to sneak out

before she wakes up in the morning,” Brooke said without taking

her eyes off Addison’s body.

“She already knows you. But you’re right. I don’t want to

confuse her by finding you here in the morning.”

Brooke nodded and slid toward the edge of the bed. But

Addison grabbed her arm and pulled her back in. She lay back and

guided Brooke on top of her.

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“I can survive on a couple hours of sleep for one day.” She

slipped her thigh between Brooke’s and pressed firmly. “So you can

leave, right after this.”

❖

“Hey, Poppi. Are you all set for the fund-raiser this weekend?”

Brooke asked as she walked into the nearly empty bar.

“Yep. Keith and I are looking forward to it.”

“Good. Can I have a beer?” She slid onto a stool and rested her

elbows on the bar.

“Sure.” Poppi uncapped a bottle and handed it to her. “But just

the one, we’re getting ready to close. What are you doing here so

late, anyway?” Poppi propped her hands on her hips, and her breasts

wiggled inside the open collar of her pink plaid shirt.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

She’d left Addison’s house thirty minutes before and, after

a short drive, had ended up here. Given how she’d spent the past

few hours, she should have been exhausted, but instead she was

wide-awake, driving through downtown with the windows down.

Despite the late hour, small crowds of people wandered the streets,

probably leaving bars and heading to whatever distant public lot

they’d parked in.

“I’ve been working on a new song for your showcase. But

would you mind if I debut it at the fund-raiser?”

“No problem. You’re still planning to do the showcase, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it any good?”

“Well, I sure hope so.”

“Any chance I can get a preview?” When Poppi pointed at the

guitar sitting on a stand onstage, the white satin fringe hanging from

the arm of her shirt swayed wildly.

“Nope. You’ll have to wait. I’m still polishing it, but it’ll be

ready by Saturday.”

“You seem excited about this one.”

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Reluctant Hope

“I am.”

“Good. But I’d hoped your good humor might have something

to do with the lady I saw you with last time you were here.”

Brooke’s body still hummed from Addison’s touch, but she

forced a casual expression. “I don’t know how you even remember

her. You were running around here like crazy.”

“Honey, I may be straight, but I’m not blind. That woman

would be hard to forget.” She grabbed a cloth and wiped down the

surface of the bar.

Brooke laughed. “Yeah, she is pretty unforgettable.”

Poppi’s eyes narrowed and her smile widened. “So, I’m right.

Something going on between the two of you?”

“Come on, Poppi.” Brooke had never been one for girl talk.

She’d never had friends that she confided in about her latest crush.

Even Diane would have to pull information about her dates out of

her. Poppi snapped her fingers. “I knew it.”

“What? You didn’t know anything.”

“I did.”

“Whatever.” Brooke picked up her beer, then set it back down.

“How did you figure it out?”

“It’s not totally obvious. But when I saw you together I noticed

a definite spark. So what’s the problem?”

“Who says there’s a problem?”

Poppi gave her a knowing look, but didn’t say anything.

“It’s complicated.”

“I can handle complicated.” She tossed aside the cloth in her

hand and folded her arms over her chest.

“Okay.” Brooke took a deep breath. Maybe she needed someone

to talk to about Addison. “Addison and I met at Diane’s funeral. She

was in Diane’s cancer support group. She had breast cancer. I can’t

let myself really think about a future with her.”

“Because of the cancer?”

“Yes, mostly. But there’s more. She’s got this adorable kid, who

she had with her gay best friend a couple years after her treatment.

He’s still in the picture, and they’re basically raising her together.”

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“That is complicated.” Poppi touched one finger to her lips.

“So let’s simplify it. Tell me what you like about her.”

“Well, other than the obvious physical attraction, she’s smart

and confident. She’s brave, yet not afraid to be vulnerable. When

I’m with her, I feel like everything will be okay. And she gets me.

She seems to understand when I need space and when I need to be

pushed.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Losing her.”

Poppi shook her head. “Not just that. You’re afraid of loving

her and losing her. But it sounds like you’re already falling for her.

So isn’t this really a matter of losing her now or the chance that it

may happen somewhere down the road?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It can be. If you love someone, it’s for better or worse. Keith

makes me want to hurl him off a cliff at times, but I love him and

I’ll stand by him no matter what happens. No one has any real

guarantees, Brooke.”

Brooke pushed her empty bottle back across the bar and threw

a ten-dollar bill down next to it. Spilling your guts to a friend was

apparently overrated. No one has any real guarantees. She could

have gotten that from a Lifetime movie.

“I’ll see you Saturday,” she said as she headed for the door.

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Reluctant Hope

cHapteR eigHteen

Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear, streaks of orange

and pink coloring the horizon. Sycamore Park bustled with

volunteers getting ready for the Community of Hope fund-raiser.

Stacey had corralled Addison as soon as she arrived and tasked her

with helping set up for registration.

Addison had checked the forecast from her phone this morning,

and the predicted clear skies and seventy-five-degree weather would

be perfect. Despite the slight chill in the air, in a couple hours, the

morning sunshine would warm the walk participants.

Volunteers had stuffed the goody bags for the walkers the night

before. Addison arranged the plastic bags, filled with advertisements,

energy bars, and an assortment of donated promotional items, on the

long table in front of her.

She glanced at the parking lot across the park for the sixth time

in the past thirty minutes. Brooke should be here soon. She’d just

seen her yesterday when they had come to the park to supervise the

construction of the stage and backstage tents. But she still couldn’t

wait to see her again. She forced her attention back on the paperwork

she sorted.

Five minutes later when she looked up again, she saw Brooke’s

car pulling into the lot. She gave up all pretense of work and sat

back to watch Brooke lift a backpack out of her trunk, then close

the lid. Dressed in jeans and hooded sweatshirt, with the bag slung

over her shoulder, she looked like a college coed crossing the dew-

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eRin Dutton

dampened grass on her way to a class. A light breeze ruffled her hair

and she pushed it back.

“Good morning,” Addison said when Brooke reached her. She

handed Brooke a cup of coffee.

“Are you sure it’s morning?” Brooke grumbled. “My day’s

looking up, though, now that I’m here with you.” She smiled and

glanced around them at the others working nearby. She didn’t make

a move toward Addison, but her eyes clearly relayed her desire to

touch her.

“I’m glad you are. We’ll have a beautiful day for the event.”

“If you’re going to be chipper, you can go work with Stacey.”

“Aren’t you excited? Today we see the payoff for all our

planning.”

“I probably will be once I wake up.” Brooke smiled.

“You will. When you see all of the families here, walking for

themselves or their loved ones, you won’t be able to help yourself.

Some of them are still going through chemo, but they come out and

walk as far as they can. It’s inspiring.”

“Okay, okay. I’m pumped.” Brooke clapped her hands together

with mock enthusiasm. “So what are we doing first?”

“The walkers will start arriving soon. After we finish setting up

here, we can move on to our own checklist. Grab that box and start

unpacking it and laying things out on that table.”

“Will do.” Brooke opened the box and pulled out a bag of

silicone bracelets with A Community for Hope 2010 stamped into

them, key chains with the same message, and name badges that

read, “I walk for__________”.

“Put these markers next to those so they can fill in the name of

whoever inspires them.”

“So they have to go through all this just to do the walk?”

Addison laughed at Brooke’s perplexed expression. “It’s not

that bad. Walkers will come here to check in. Some will have printed

all the paperwork off online, and others need to fill it out today.”

Addison affixed forms to a stack of clipboards and laid a handful of

pens next to them. “Once they’re checked in and given a number,

they go past that table and pick up some of the freebies.”

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Reluctant Hope

“There’s our emcee.” Brooke nodded toward the parking lot.

Poppi strode across the grass in heels far too high for the uneven

ground. She had certainly dressed the part, from the pink-and-white

bow in her teased hair to the pink skirt billowing around her knees.

“Hey, Poppi, thanks for coming,” Brooke called when she got

close enough to hear.

“Hi there, kiddo. Keith is getting his equipment from the van.

Where do you want him to set up?”

“Over there.” Addison pointed at the stage across the lawn.

“We’re almost done here. If you’ll tell him to bring everything

over, I’ll be there in a minute to show him the diagram of our stage

layout.”

“No problem.” She turned and headed back to the parking lot.

Brooke shook her head. “I don’t know how she can walk in

those things.”

“Practice. When you wear them all the time, you get pretty

good at it. But I’ll tell you, nothing feels better than taking them off

at the end of the day.”

“They make your legs look sexy, especially in those little skirts

you wear. But I really like it when you take your heels off and walk

around in your stockings.”

“My skirts are a perfectly appropriate length.”

“I agree, they’re perfect.” Brooke dropped her eyes to Addison’s

legs, and Addison felt the caress as surely as if Brooke had actually

stroked her.

“Okay. You should go.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere else. It’ll be a long day if you keep looking at me

like that.”

“Maybe we can sneak away behind the stage and—”

“No way. Get that idea out of your head. There are too many

people around here for that.” Addison shook her finger at Brooke,

but her mind was filled with images of the two of them hiding in a

tent backstage.

The fantasy dissolved when she glanced at the stage and saw a

very tall man with gray hair and a long goatee carrying a large black

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eRin Dutton

case. Poppi wrapped her arms around him from behind, almost

making him drop the case. “Why don’t you go help Keith with his

gear? I’ll finish this.”

❖

“Are we ready to start?” Brooke asked, holding out a microphone.

“Absolutely.” Poppi grabbed the mic and sashayed out onstage.

Normally Brooke wouldn’t use such a term, but she couldn’t think

of another way to describe the swing of her hips and the prissy

motion of her upper arms bent sharply at the elbow.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the eleventh annual fund-

raiser for A Community for Hope.”

Poppi waved her hand and a collection of thin gold bracelets

shimmied down her wrist. “It’s wonderful to see so many people

coming out to help us raise awareness and money for research. My

name is Poppi and I own Poppi’s Cabaret down on Broadway. I’ll be

here all day guiding you through the fun activities we have planned.

Let’s give a big round of applause to the folks who volunteered so

much of their time to put this event together.”

The massive crowd hooted and clapped. Brooke couldn’t

even guess how many people pushed up in front of the stage, but

she’d heard another volunteer say they had definitely exceeded the

previous year’s attendance.

“You’ve probably all been touched by cancer in one way or

another. I have as well. I’ve had family and good friends who were

lost or lost someone.” She looked over, met Brooke’s eyes, and

nodded almost imperceptibly. “So let’s make this a great day to

honor them and get one step closer to a cure.”

Poppi turned the microphone over to the head of the walk

committee, who instructed everyone where to line up. The crowd

dispersed. The walkers headed for the start line, and supportive

friends and family spread blankets and lawn chairs on the grass near

the stage.

After checking that everything was in order for their next

scheduled segment, Brooke left the stage area and wandered

• 190 •

Reluctant Hope

toward the course laid out for the walkers. She stopped and leaned

against a tree not far from the start. The path would lead them

through the park, not far from the stroll she’d taken one day with

Addison.

People of all ages clustered around the start line, waiting for a

signal to begin. Some of them carried signs and wore T-shirts with

the names and photos of loved ones, some of which had the dates

they’d passed away, others with the word “Survivor” emblazoned

across the front of their shirt. Brooke remembered seeing the shirt

for sale in the souvenir tent.

But whether for themselves or for others, every one of them

had given up their Saturday to be here, to support this cause. Brooke

was suddenly ashamed that she’d only agreed to do the same after

Diane had browbeaten her into it. And that she’d contemplated

backing out after Diane died.

The starter gave the signal and the throng surged forward onto

the marked path.

“I love the kickoff,” Addison said as she came up beside

Brooke.

Brooke bumped her shoulder against Addison’s. “You were

right. This is pretty amazing.”

“It reminds me how lucky I am.”

“You know, you’re pretty amazing, too.” Brooke touched the

small of Addison’s back. As she let her hand fall away, Addison

grasped it and squeezed quickly before releasing it again.

“Why?”

“After everything you’ve been through, the fact that you can

still be so positive astonishes me. I’d be so angry. Hell, I have been

angry.”

“It’s not that hard to be positive. Sure, I could detail the pain

and the fear, and the months of not knowing. But if I do that, I also

have to talk about the incredible doctors and nurses who took care

of me. My own family was so supportive. Charles was my rock. If

I talk about the scars and the insecurities I still carry, I also have to

remember that I’m cancer-free. I have a beautiful daughter who I

fall more in love with every day. Life is good for me, Brooke.” She

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eRin Dutton

waved at the crowd around them. “It’s a lot more than some of these

people will get a chance at.”

Brooke nodded slightly. She felt bad for the plight of the

participants, but she doubted she would ever truly be able to be as

optimistic as Addison.

❖

“Addison,” Stacey called as she hurried across the lawn. She

flipped through a clipboard stuffed with papers until she apparently

found what she was looking for. “Your first act is scheduled to go on

in ten minutes. Are they ready?”

“I’m sure they are. Brooke is back there coordinating everything

right now.”

“Gee, maybe you should go check on her.” Stacey’s expression

indicated that she thought Addison should know better than to leave

Brooke alone with a task.

“She’s probably got everything covered.” Stacey looked as if

she wanted to argue, so Addison added, “But I’ll go double-check.”

Stacey nodded with satisfaction. Addison plastered on a fake

smile before heading for the stage. Stacey needed every event to

be perfect, and micro-managing them was her way of ensuring that

it was. Though Addison was confident Brooke had things moving

backstage, she didn’t mind the excuse to seek her out.

A large enclosed tent had been set up behind the stage and

covered nearly every inch of free space back to the tree line. Addison

pushed the flap open and entered. Inside, they’d used screens to form

temporary dressing rooms for the various performers. The open area

in the center contained tables and chairs, and one long table held an

array of deli trays, fruits, beverages, and other snack items.

The members of Grove Tree Road lounged at one table, holding

drinks and picking up snacks off one mutual plate in the center of

the table. Addison waved as she approached.

“You guys have plenty of time before you perform. You’re

welcome to go out there and join the festivities.” Grove Tree Road

was set to close the show.

• 192 •

Reluctant Hope

“We’ve been in and out,” Tyler Cason said.

“Great. Have you seen Brooke?”

He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the dressing-

room area.

As Addison made her way around the corner to the temporary

enclosures, she ran directly into Brooke, who was stepping out of

one of them. Brooke grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Hi,” Addison said. Her breathlessness as she looked into

Brooke’s eyes had nothing to do with their near-collision and

everything to do with the feel of Brooke’s hands grasping her upper

arms firmly.

“This reminds me a little of our first meeting.” Brooke pulled

her lower lip between her teeth.

“A little. But I don’t recall seeing quite so much lust in your

eyes that day.”

“Well, it was a solemn occasion,” Brooke reminded her, and

Addison immediately felt like an ass. “Or, maybe I was just better at

hiding it then,” Brooke added, making her feel better.

“Are we ready with our first act?”

“Back to business, huh?” Brooke teased, trailing a finger around

the collar of Addison’s T-shirt and up the side of her neck. Addison

raised an eyebrow and Brooke sighed. “Yeah, she’s ready to go.”

“Good. Let Poppi know she’s on in five.” Addison kissed

Brooke quickly on the mouth, sliding away when Brooke tried to

deepen the kiss. “Later, stagehand.”

“Stagehand?” Brooke grinned and moved closer. “I like it.”

“Yeah? Do you want to play the stagehand and the rock star

tonight?” Addison wished she could ditch the rest of the event and

take Brooke home right then.

“Why wait until tonight? We’re here.” She looked around. “We

have all the props.”

“Do props do it for you?”

“Sometimes.” Brooke smiled and slipped her hand under the

hem of Addison’s shirt. “They can set the mood.”

“I’ll remember that.” Addison wondered if Brooke was getting

as wonderfully uncomfortable in her jeans as she was. Addison

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swayed toward Brooke and was about to kiss her when she heard

voices behind them. She grabbed Brooke’s wrist and pulled her

hand away. “We have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.” She nodded toward the dressing rooms.

“Get your girl on the stage.” She winked at Brooke, then forced

herself to walk away.

❖

“So, did everyone enjoy the walk?” Poppi paused for effect

and the crowd cheered as expected. “Well, we’ve got lots of great

performers lined up, including an opportunity for you to entertain us

during our karaoke contest this afternoon. See Keith over there to

pick your song and sign up.

“This first young lady came to Nashville two years ago from

Oklahoma just hoping to land a record deal. One year later, she did.

She’s been working hard on that album for the past year. Next week

you’ll be hearing her first single on the radio, but today she’s going

to give us a sneak peak. Put your hands together for Francie Collins.”

The young brunette bounded onto the stage carrying a guitar

that looked way too big for her petite frame. A black leather vest

hugged her torso, and her knees poked out through the frayed edges

of holes midway down the leg of her blue jeans.

“Hey, y’all,” she drawled into the microphone.

“That’s Francie Collins?” Addison asked in disbelief. The

compact firecracker didn’t fit the image Addison had conjured,

given her old-fashioned-sounding name.

Brooke elbowed her lightly in the ribs.

“Ow, what?”

Brooke glared at her. Addison liked the hint of jealousy in

Brooke’s eyes.

“I just thought she’d be a little more—um— Hee Haw, that’s

all.” Addison fixed an innocent expression on her face, then

purposely turned to stare at the woman on the stage. “I think I’ve

been missing out by not listening to country music.”

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Reluctant Hope

The hint of jealousy grew and turned Brooke’s smile into a

smirk. “She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?”

“Oh, that was low.” Addison smiled in spite of her words.

Brooke held up her hands in front of her. “Hey, I’m just saying,

I think she’s actually closer to Ramsey’s age. But don’t worry, she’s

over eighteen, so if that’s what you’re into—”

Brooke failed to smother her laughter when Addison buried her

fingers in her ribs and tickled her.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

Addison stopped, but stayed poised to start again. “You know I

don’t want some young hottie. I only want you.”

“Yeah, thanks. I don’t need reminding that I’m not young or hot

anymore.” Brooke’s jaw tightened and flexed, but Addison wasn’t

sure it was because of an imagined slight about her age.

“You okay?”

“Absolutely. But I should go check on the next act.”

“Brooke—”

“She’ll be done soon.”

“She just started,” Addison said, but Brooke had already turned

away.

• 195 •

• 196 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR nineteen

How are the sign-ups going?” Brooke asked, looking over

Keith’s shoulder at his computer. He sat on a stool in front

of two small tables pushed together in an L-shape that held two

laptops and a soundboard. A tabletop microphone stand sat in front

of him, and two floor stands, lowered to their shortest height, stood

behind him.

“Almost all the slots are full.” He brought the spreadsheet of

the schedule up on his screen and showed her.

“Good. I hope the competition is fierce. We had some good

prizes donated.”

“Like what?”

“Two nights in a cabin in Gatlinburg and a fancy dinner, tickets

to a hockey game, awesome seats three rows off the ice, and a gift

certificate from Home Depot.”

“I heard you’re going to play. Poppi says you have something

new.” “Yeah, I’m up right after lunch.”

“It’s good that you’re getting back to it,” he said with a nod.

“Poppi really does tell you everything, doesn’t she?”

“Pretty much.” He spun on his stool and began typing on the

other laptop. “And I can usually tell when she’s not telling me

something.”

“You guys have been together for a long time, huh?”

“Yep.”

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“What’s the secret?” Being among all of the families today had

started Brooke thinking about how lonely her life had been. Even

before Diane died, Brooke had essentially kept herself closed off

from everyone else.

“There’s no secret. Love each other. Support each other. Have

a good healthy fight every now and then. That’s key. Poppi and I are

solid because we’re honest enough with each other to fight when we

need to. And we’ve needed that bond to get through the tough times

together.”

“It’s that easy?” Brooke joked. She’d spent some time with Keith

and Poppi, and “solid” definitely described them. At first glance,

it seemed that Poppi’s passionate, lively nature could overpower

Keith’s subdued personality, but, actually, they complemented each

other. Keith supported Poppi and allowed her to be herself, and she

clearly cherished him for his quiet strength.

“Nothing that’s worth it is ever easy.” He rubbed his goatee.

“Sounds corny, I know. But it’s true. Poppi wanted nothing to do

with me when we first met. I had to chase her for a while before she

let me catch her. Who are you trying to woo, anyway?”

“No one.” Brooke instinctively sought out Addison and found

her across the grass talking to a group of people all wearing purple

T-shirts with someone’s picture silk-screened on the front. Addison

smiled and touched one woman’s arm. Whatever she said to her made

the woman suddenly hug her. Brooke marveled at Addison’s endless

compassion, and she didn’t think it was entirely due to her history

with cancer. Addison was a generous, social person by nature.

“You don’t ask that kind of question unless you have someone

in mind.”

Brooke snapped her eyes back to Keith, hoping he hadn’t seen

her watching Addison. “Just taking stock, man. I’m not getting any

younger, you know.”

“Yeah, well, whoever she is, she’d be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you get back to it. See you around.” Brooke

wandered off, still pondering his final words.

She appreciated the compliment, but she wasn’t so sure. Addison

was probably the bravest woman Brooke had ever met. Brooke, on

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Reluctant Hope

the other hand, was afraid to take a chance—on anything. She was

sleeping with Addison and spending time with her and Ramsey. She

could avoid making a commitment, but she was kidding herself if

she thought she could deny any feelings. Addison attracted her, on a

physical level, but also on an emotional one. And she had a way of

chipping apart all of Brooke’s barriers.

The only way Brooke could avoid getting further caught up in

whatever she and Addison had started was to avoid her altogether.

Just the thought of not seeing Addison made her chest ache. But

after today, they wouldn’t be working on the fund-raiser together, so

they wouldn’t need to see each other. Then it was up to Brooke to be

strong enough to stay away.

As she contemplated the idea, she glanced up and saw Addison

heading right toward her. When their eyes met, Addison’s smile

lit Brooke up from the inside. Addison held nothing back and the

emotions on her face scared Brooke. In an expression as simple

as a smile, she conveyed desire, joy, and love. Addison loved her.

Addison loved her. And because of that, Brooke would most likely

end up breaking both of their hearts.

“Hey, there,” Addison said as she reached Brooke. She brushed

her hand down Brooke’s arm.

“Hey.” Brooke forced a smile and avoided eye contact. She

didn’t want Addison to read what had just been going through her

head.“Are you all right?”

“Sure, why?”

“Earlier, you seemed—” Addison shook her head. “Never

mind. Everything okay with Keith?”

“Oh, yeah, I was just socializing.”

“You? Am I rubbing off on you?”

“Apparently.”

“Poppi’s doing a great job. I’ve barely had to worry about how

things are progressing onstage.”

This time Brooke’s smile was genuine. “Meaning, you’ve been

watching her every move from afar instead of over her shoulder.”

Addison laughed. “Yeah, maybe. Am I that controlling?”

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“I wouldn’t say controlling. You’re very attentive to details.”

“That’s just a nicer way of saying the same thing.”

Brooke was saved from answering when Ramsey ran up to

them with Charles trailing her.

Charles put his arm around Addison and kissed her cheek.

“Brooke, I walked for a cure,” Ramsey said. Her number

placard covered almost the entire front of her over-sized light-pink

shirt. Only a few inches of her white athletic shorts hung out the

bottom of the shirt and brushed her knees.

“I see that.” Brooke bent to study the number on her chest.

“Two hundred twenty-two, that’s a good number.”

“I picked it out. Daddy got the one I didn’t want.”

Brooke glanced at Charles, pretending to study his chest, then

back at Ramsey. “I like your number better, too,” she whispered.

Ramsey giggled.

One of the badges Brooke remembered seeing on the table

that morning had been half-stuck to Ramsey’s sleeve. Brooke

straightened the fabric and pressed the sticker on more firmly.

Judging from the handwriting, Ramsey had obviously filled her

badge in herself. The words “I walk for Mommy” hit Brooke harder

than she expected.

She straightened, and when she glanced at Addison she thought

she saw tears welling up. She held Addison’s gaze, wishing she

could touch her physically and hoping she could convey enough

reassurance in her own eyes. The stark pain in Addison’s face was

more than Brooke had ever seen in her before and let her know that

despite the brave front and positive attitude, Addison still bore the

scars of her past.

“I have to go—check on something,” Addison said, breaking

eye contact.

“I want to go with you, Mommy.”

“Okay, sweetie, come on.” Addison held out her hand and

Ramsey grabbed it.

Brooke watched them walk away, moved by what she’d just

seen in Addison. The badge on Ramsey’s arm had brought home to

Brooke that if it weren’t for Addison’s treatment, not only would

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Reluctant Hope

Addison not be with them today, but neither would Ramsey. Brooke

hadn’t just fallen for Addison, she’d also come to care for Ramsey.

She was a smart, funny, engaging child, and who knew what she

might accomplish. Addison’s successful fight against cancer might

have given the world a peacekeeper, or a doctor, or a scientist. She

glanced around at the children running around among adults sitting

in chairs or on blankets. One of these kids could be the one who

found a cure for cancer, and it was only because of efforts like this

one that funds were available for research that allowed some of

them to be here today.

She turned toward Charles and found him studying her intently.

“You guys make a cute couple,” he said, apparently having

completely mistaken the emotion of their exchange for something else.

“We’re not—” Brooke stopped, not certain exactly what they

were, but realizing she should probably choose her words carefully

when talking to Addison’s closest friend.

“Oh. My mistake, I thought—well, you must know that

Addison tells me everything.”

“I probably should have. I’m sorry. I just don’t know exactly

what I’m doing. It’s been a while since I dated anyone, if that’s what

you want to call it.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter what I call it.” He

narrowed his eyes warily. Brooke tried not to fidget under his gaze.

“I apologize if I’m being nosy, but Addison has been through a lot

and I tend to want to protect her.”

Brooke nodded. She’d thought she knew exactly what Addison

had been through, but she hadn’t—not really—until just now.

“That’s understandable.”

“So, this is where I ask what your intentions are.”

“With all due respect, that’s between Addison and me.” Brooke

forced a more confident tone than she felt. She didn’t want to talk to

Charles about this at all, but certainly not here. “I will say, regarding

my intentions, that I’ve been completely honest with Addison.”

“I guess that’s all I can ask.”

Brooke shoved her hands in her pockets. Had she been honest?

She’d thought so, but here she was with Addison, acting like nothing

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was wrong, when only a few minutes ago she’d tried to convince

herself that she should stay as far away from Addison as possible.

Addison returned looking much more composed than she had

when she’d left.

“We scoped out the line at the food tent and it seems to have

gone down. Is everyone ready for lunch?” Addison asked.

“I think I’ll skip it,” Brooke said.

“Really? Are you okay? You’re not nervous about playing

afterward, are you?”

“No. But I should probably check on things backstage.”

Addison waved a hand dismissively. “It’s under control.

After this act, there’s a break before we start the open mic for the

songwriters. There’s nothing to check on. Come eat with us.”

“That’s okay, I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Come on,” Ramsey said, taking Brooke’s hand. “You can sit

by me.”

“Ladies first,” Charles said, extending an arm to indicate they

should go ahead.

Brooke gave in and let Ramsey lead her. When they reached

the cluster of tables underneath the large tent, only a few people

were ahead of them. They shuffled down the line, filling their plates

with barbeque, beans, and potato salad. Addison fixed Ramsey’s

plate, while Ramsey carried plastic cutlery for all of them.

“Where should we sit?” Addison asked when she reached the

end of the line.

Charles and Brooke spoke at the same time.

“There’s a picnic table over there.”

“Ramsey and I have a blanket over here.”

Addison followed Charles as he led them toward the area in

front of the stage.

“Mommy, I want pie.”

“Ramsey, Mommy has her hands full.” In addition to her and

Ramsey’s plates, Addison had two bottles of water tucked under her

arm. “I got it,” Brooke said. “Lemon meringue or apple?”

“Apple.”

• 202 •

Reluctant Hope

She picked up a slice and tilted it onto a plate with a piece of

lemon meringue for herself, then managed to juggle her plate, the

dessert, and her own drink.

When they reached the area Charles had staked out for them,

Ramsey plopped down and patted the blanket next to her.

“Sit here.”

“Okay. Will you hold this for me?” Brooke handed Ramsey her

unopened can of soda, which Ramsey set in the grass just outside

the edge of the blanket.

“It goes right there, in case you spill,” Ramsey said, obviously

quoting a rule she’d been given. “Just watch you don’t get ants in it.”

“Ants?”

“Ants like soda,” Ramsey declared. “I spilled mine on the table

outside our house one day and a million ants came to drink it.”

Brooke lowered herself carefully to her designated spot.

She set the dessert plate on the other side of her, out of Ramsey’s

sightline so she wouldn’t be tempted away from her lunch just yet.

“A million, huh? Well, help me keep an eye out then. I don’t want to

share my drink with a million ants.”

“They would probably drink it all and there wouldn’t be any

left for you.”

“Exactly.” Brooke parted the grass outside the blanket and bent

even closer, pretending to peer down between the blades. “I don’t

see any ants, but we’d better watch for them anyway.”

Ramsey nodded and began passing plastic forks around.

“Here’s your lunch, sweetie.” Addison set a plate on the blanket

in front of Ramsey. “Use your napkin, please.”

Ramsey spread a napkin over her knees and picked up a piece

of the sandwich Addison had cut into fourths for her. Every few

minutes she glanced toward Brooke’s drink, keeping a vigilant

watch for ant intruders.

Brooke picked up her own sandwich and took a bite. The pulled

pork was tender and the barbeque sauce had a nice tangy flavor.

“This is really good.”

“That barbeque place not far from our house donated it. It’s my

favorite,” Addison said.

• 203 •

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Soon they were all quietly clearing their plates. Brooke

watched the last act of the morning, a young band with an edgy

alternative feel. The lead singer was a natural entertainer, engaging

the audience with his infectious energy. Soon, like many people

around her, Brooke was bobbing her head along with the music.

Brooke and Addison had contacted them based on a rave

review by one of Addison’s co-workers. They were the only band

that Brooke hadn’t personally seen perform before. But she actually

liked what she’d heard so far and made a mental note to check the

souvenir table and see if they’d put out any of their CDs. In addition

to their auction items, several of the acts had donated promo items,

like music and T-shirts, to be sold for the benefit.

“They were a good call, huh?” Addison asked.

“Yeah, your friend was right. They’re pretty cool.”

“Can I have dessert now?” Ramsey asked as she pushed away

her half-empty plate.

Brooke looked at Addison first, and she gave a small nod.

Brooke moved the dessert plate between them and held up her own

fork. “Let’s dig in.”

Ramsey sunk her fork into the wedge of apple pie and ate a

mouthful. Brooke did the same with the lemon meringue.

“Mommy, try a bite.”

“No, thanks.”

“Yeah, Mommy,” Brooke prodded. “Try a bite.” She loaded up

her fork and angled it toward Addison.

“That’s okay.”

“Come on, it’s so good.” Brooke purposely let a bit of flirtation

leak into her voice.

“Maybe just one bite.” Addison leaned forward and enveloped

the fork in her mouth. She eased back, letting it withdraw slowly.

She swallowed, then said, “Mmm, you’re right, that’s very good.”

“Tease,” Brooke whispered before sitting back next to Ramsey.

“Want to try mine?” Ramsey asked Brooke.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Brooke took a forkful. Ramsey looked

expectantly at Brooke’s pie, obviously waiting for her to extend

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Reluctant Hope

the same offer. “Oh, did you want some lemon meringue?” Brooke

asked innocently.

Ramsey nodded.

“Well, help yourself then.”

Ramsey glanced at Addison for only a second, and when no

disapproval was forthcoming, she sunk her fork into Brooke’s

dessert. She made a face as she chewed the tart filling.

“Good, huh?” Brooke asked.

Ramsey nodded.

“Want some more?”

“No, thank you. I’ll just stick to my apple,” she said politely.

“Okay, then.” Brooke smiled. When she met Addison’s eyes,

she felt that thing again that tore her in two. Addison’s emotions

were there for the taking, displayed in her eyes like an enticing

display in a storefront window.

Part of Brooke wanted to get away from the raw intensity of

her emotions when she was with Addison. But the part of her that

needed to feel alive in a way that only Addison could make her

feel seemed so much stronger. She craved the inclusion she felt

from Addison and Ramsey. She had no illusions about fitting in the

dynamic of Addison, Charles, and Ramsey’s family unit, but she

wanted to pretend she had a place even if it was only for today.

• 205 •

• 206 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR twenty

Are you decent?” Addison pushed aside the flap that led to

the makeshift dressing room without waiting for a reply.

She half hoped Brooke wasn’t, since she’d been thinking about

getting her naked all day.

But when she stepped inside, Brooke sat, fully clothed, in a

director’s chair while a thin man applied makeup to her face. Several

of the local hair stylists and makeup artists had volunteered for the

event. The man’s spiky, multicolored hair made Addison glad he

wasn’t touching Brooke’s head. Brooke had refused a stylist, saying

she could shove some mousse through her hair herself.

“Remember, nothing over the top,” Brooke warned him, casting

a quick glance at Addison that implored her to supervise.

“Honey, don’t worry. You’ll still be beautifully butch when

I get done with you.” He swept a long-bristled brush over her

cheekbones.

“That’s all I ask.” Brooke sat back in the chair and let him work.

“Are you ready?” Addison beamed, practically vibrating with

excitement. Brooke had refused to play the new song for her, so she

thought it must be something special.

Brooke smiled. “You seem more excited about this than I am.”

“It’s a new song. Aren’t you pumped to debut it?”

“I guess so.”

“I think you are, but you don’t want to show it in case the song

isn’t well received.”

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Brooke raised a brow, then relaxed it when the makeup guy

clucked in disapproval and held another applicator poised in front

of him.

“You don’t know everything,” Brooke said.

Addison almost laughed at her petulant tone, but she knew

from dealing with Ramsey that laughing was the worst thing she

could do.

“I know that you’re an amazing woman.” Addison moved

behind Brooke, dropped her hands on her shoulders, and spoke

close to her ear. “And you’re going to do great out there.”

The makeup guy brushed his hands together. “Okay, all done.”

He glanced at Addison, then back at Brooke. “Try not to smudge

that lipstick,” he said with a wink before he pushed through the tent

flap. Addison and Brooke both laughed after he was gone. Addison

circled Brooke, slid onto her lap, and draped her arms around

Brooke’s neck.

“Oh, you are so going to smudge your lipstick,” she said,

her mouth only inches from Brooke’s. Brooke leaned forward

and Addison angled away, teasing her with the almost-kiss before

giving in. Brooke took control immediately, cupping the back of

Addison’s head, and slipped her tongue against Addison’s. Brooke’s

body was warm and solid against hers, and her mouth demanded

more. Addison’s heart raced, and she pressed into Brooke, trying

to get closer. Brooke kissed her like nothing else mattered except

this moment, this embrace, and Addison would crawl inside her if it

meant holding onto that feeling.

Brooke tore her mouth free. “Ah—Addison, you have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

Brooke clapped her hands onto Addison’s hips and stilled

them. Addison hadn’t realized she’d been rotating her hips against

Brooke’s lap, but she now registered her need for a little friction to

relieve the ache building between her thighs. If Brooke would just

touch her for a minute or two, that might be enough. She grasped

one of Brooke’s wrists, fighting the urge to guide her hand where

she needed it.

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Reluctant Hope

“Okay, just a second.” Addison squeezed Brooke’s wrist and

inhaled deeply, then let her breath out slowly and eased off Brooke’s

lap. She rubbed her thumb over Brooke’s mouth, removing the

smudge of color below her lower lip. “Do you want me to fix your

lipstick? He picked a great shade for you.” She glanced at the table

behind her and saw several different tubes of lipstick.

“No, I don’t like that stuff anyway. I just let him do it because

I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Well, that was nice of you.”

Brooke stood and pulled a pinstriped vest off a hanger on the

rack behind her.

“Let me.” Addison took the vest and held it out while Brooke

slipped her arms into it. Addison turned her around and pulled

the front of the vest closed over her white T-shirt. “Very nice,”

Addison said, taking in the wide leather belt threaded through her

blue jeans.

“Stop doing that. I have to go out there and perform the first

song I’ve written in months, and you’re looking at me like you want

to throw me down right here.”

“When I get my hands on you, I can’t help skipping ahead to

what we’ll be doing later.”

“You sound pretty confident.”

“Confident that I can get you into bed? A little.” Addison

reached for Brooke, but Brooke captured her hands and folded them

between them.

“Thank you for trying to distract me. But I need a minute before

I go out there.”

“Okay. Are you okay with me being in the audience?”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”

“I’ll see you afterward?”

Brooke nodded.

Addison kissed her one more time, then forced herself through

the flap in the tent. Nervousness fluttered in her stomach, but she

told herself Brooke would be great. She knew Brooke had been

trying to appear as if her expectations were low, but Addison sensed

that this song meant more to Brooke than she let on.

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❖

Brooke stood at the side of the stage and waited while Poppi

introduced her. Poppi talked about how far their friendship went

back, but Brooke only half listened. She’d put on a brave front for

Addison, and, in truth, having Addison in the dressing room with

her had helped distract her.

She’d tried rehearsing what she might say to introduce the

song, but she couldn’t get her thoughts together without feeling like

she was rambling. So she decided to swallow her nerves and speak

from her heart.

“…bring to the stage, Nashville songwriter Brooke Donahue.”

Applause followed Poppi’s words.

Brooke’s feet wouldn’t move. Fear pounded in her chest. Last

night, she’d talked to herself for a couple of hours while doing some

final rehearsals. But all rational thought fled when she considered

what she was about to do. This was more than just a song. She was

about to go out on that stage and lay herself bare.

Poppi was looking at her as if trying to convey a message. Get

the hell out here, she said with her eyes.

“She’s a little shy, folks. Let’s get a little louder and see if we

can’t convince her to get her butt out here to play a song for y’all.”

The crowd clapped and yelled in response.

“One foot in front of the other,” Brooke muttered. That was

how she’d gotten through the past four months, and maybe it would

get her through today as well.

She walked across the stage to where Poppi stood, and Poppi

hugged her before exiting on the other side. Brooke scanned the

audience until she found Addison’s face. She met her eyes and held

them for just a second, relaxing marginally.

She adjusted the microphone, then gripped it tight as she spoke.

“I want to thank you all again for coming out here. I had the good

fortune to be involved in planning this event and, let me tell you,

it was an eye-opening experience. I’ve never done anything like

this before. But through it all, I’ve met some inspiring people. The

strength, bravery, generosity, and positive thinking I’ve seen in the

past several weeks has amazed me.”

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Reluctant Hope

Addison’s smile encouraged her to continue. Brooke was

surprised by how much Addison’s approval had come to mean to

her in such a short time.

“Like so many people, I’ve seen the commercials about the

importance of cancer screening and the news stories about this

breakthrough or that, but didn’t give them much thought. Earlier this

year, though, cancer affected me in a very big way. I lost someone

very dear to me. She was a great friend, and, as I watched her take

on the fight of her life, she endured far more than I could have. So

I want to dedicate my part in this event, and this song, to Diane.”

Brooke reached behind her, grabbed her guitar, and swung it

around her body. She adjusted the strap against her shoulder and

wrapped her hand around the neck.

Addison wondered if Brooke was stalling when she stretched

her fingers before laying them on the frets. Her hands trembled and

Addison longed to go up there and hold them.

She held her breath as Brooke began to pick out a slow, achingly

sad melody on her guitar. Brooke had discussed asking some local

musicians to play with her but in the end had opted for an acoustic

feel, and Addison knew now that was the best choice.

When Brooke began to sing, the raspy quality Addison loved

in her voice carried over the crowd. Brooke’s song told the story of

loving someone unconditionally and receiving that love in return.

When she sang about admiring the strength and courage with which

that person faced adversity, she left no doubt she sang for Diane. In

the end, though she knew Diane wanted to hang on, to be there for

her, she had to let her go, had to set her free from her pain.

Addison listened with her heart, absorbing Brooke’s grief as if

she could spare Brooke from carrying it. She couldn’t take her eyes

off Brooke’s face as it changed throughout the song. She watched

her tight brows smooth out and her eyes go from stormy and dark to

simply sad, shining with unshed tears.

Emotion roughened Brooke’s voice, but she carried on, her

fingers coaxing agonizing tones from her instrument. Her hands

quickened, flying over the strings, and her voice followed, becoming

more desperate as the pace of the song increased. Her melody built

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as if she were carelessly flinging herself toward a cliff despite

knowing the pain she would find should she tumble all the way to

the bottom. And with a final gasping declaration, she took that leap,

flying into space with nothing to hold on to—suspended before she

plummeted.

By the time Brooke finished with a haunting chord, several

people around Addison dabbed their eyes. Brooke stood in the middle

of the stage, alone, and as vulnerable as Addison had ever seen her.

She had poured her grief out over the stage, and it puddled at her feet.

The audience exploded with applause and cheers. A small smile

touched Brooke’s lips and she looked up toward the sky briefly. She

waved and walked off the right side of the stage.

Addison immediately began to weave her way through the

crowd. She needed to see Brooke—to try to soothe her. She arrived

in the backstage area as Brooke stepped down and set her guitar on

a stand.

Tyler Cason stood waiting for Brooke, and he caught her before

Addison could reach her. “That was an amazing song. I was back in

the tent, and when I heard you starting to play it, I just had to come

out and listen.”

“Thanks.” Brooke scanned the backstage area purposefully, and

Addison’s heart leapt at the thought that Brooke might be looking

for her.

“Hey, listen, I know you probably have people waiting in line

for your stuff, but we’re getting ready to record our first album and

I’d love to pitch that song to my producer.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. A lot of people can relate to that kind of loss, and

you bring the emotion across perfectly.”

“Don’t you need to talk to the rest of your group?”

“They loved it as much as I did. Trust me, if you agree, they’re

on board.”

“I don’t know.”

Addison didn’t know either. The song was very personal, and

she wasn’t sure how she would feel hearing someone else play

it, even a band she liked as much as Grove Tree Road. She knew

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Reluctant Hope

Brooke had no interest in being a performer, but she was born to

sing that song.

“Actually, I was thinking you could make a guest appearance

on the album. The song needs your voice. We’d make it a duet. Think

about it and give me a call next week. You still have my card?”

“Yes.”

“And, hey, I want the song. But if you need to hang onto it, I

understand. Either way I’d love to do some writing with you.”

“Okay. I’ll get back to you,” Brooke said, shaking his hand.

When Brooke turned away and saw Addison, she visibly lost

her composure. Her eyes welled and she bit her trembling lower

lip. Addison closed the distance between them and gathered Brooke

in her arms. Brooke relaxed against her, wrapped her arms around

Addison’s waist, and sighed against her neck.

“Come home with me tonight,” Addison said, cradling the back

of Brooke’s head.

“Addison, I can’t.”

“You can and you will. I need to hold you tighter, preferably

with less clothes.”

“I don’t think I’ll be in the mood.” Brooke began to pull away,

but Addison drew her back in.

“I’m not talking about sex. I just need to hold you.”

“Okay,” Brooke said, and, though Addison knew she was

wrong, she let herself believe that Brooke was talking about more

than just tonight.

❖

“Okay, y’all, I’m going to take full credit for bringing this next

act to you. They’ve played in my bar and I think you’re going to

love them as much as I do. Aside from being a great bunch of guys

and gals, they’re impressive musicians. Give it up for Grove Tree

Road.”

The band spilled onstage to an onslaught of applause. Apparently

they’d brought along a ton of their fans. They kicked right into an

upbeat country song that soon had the crowd clapping along.

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Brooke leaned on her right hip and stretched her legs out into

the grass beside her. Addison sat on the blanket next to her. In front

of them, despite the noise, Ramsey slept curled up under Addison’s

jacket with her head resting on Brooke’s balled-up sweatshirt.

“The kid can sleep through anything.” Brooke shook her head.

“She’s exhausted,” Addison said as she tucked her jacket closer

around Ramsey.

“I know the feeling.” Brooke glanced around. “It’s been a long

day, but I’ve enjoyed it.”

“Good. We had another great year. I’m sure we raised a bunch

of money, but sometimes it seems it’s just as important for people

to get out here and see other families going through the same things

and winning, or to commiserate with the ones losing the fight. Not

all of these people will make it, but none of them have to be alone.”

The band switched to a slow song, and Brooke’s mind wandered

back to her own performance. She’d written the perfect tribute to her

friendship with Diane. But she also hoped she’d captured the feeling

that the friends and family of those fighting cancer went through,

wanting to hang on even when the only thing left to do was let go.

Brooke wanted Diane to fight so badly that perhaps Diane

hadn’t felt completely comfortable talking to her about what she

really felt deep inside. She’d battled until the end, or at least Brooke

thought she had. If she had times when she was too exhausted to

fight, when she wanted only to lie down, she never told Brooke.

Maybe that’s where Brooke had failed Diane a little. But she’d been

so afraid to talk about it, afraid to even whisper that Diane might not

make it, as if she could accidently influence Diane’s fate.

But she was here. And that was one thing Diane had wanted.

She’d made Brooke commit to this event and Brooke had followed

through. Had Diane foreseen any of the lessons she’d learned

because of her involvement in the fund-raiser? Brooke glanced at

Addison. Had Diane foreseen that as well?

For the second time that day, Brooke looked to the sky and

hoped Diane was somewhere watching her. I miss you. But I think

I’ll be okay.

• 214 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR twenty-one

The flame danced around its tender, charred wick, licking

the inside of the votive glass that kept it contained. Two

layers of glass away, a twin glow flirted back from its own prison.

The two seemed so well choreographed that Addison pretended they

communicated with each other, that if only they could somehow surpass

the boundaries placed between them, they could become one blaze.

“What are you thinking about?” Brooke asked, tilting her head

back to look at Addison.

“Us,” Addison said, but she didn’t expand.

“Oh.” Brooke’s response was just as cryptic.

Addison let her hand drape over the edge of the tub. The bubbles

clinging to her wrist reflected tiny rainbows from the candles she’d

lit around the room. Brooke reclined between her legs, her back

pressed to Addison’s chest. Addison bent her head and kissed the

wet spikes of Brooke’s hair.

“I overheard you and Tyler talking. Are you going to take him

up on his offer?”

“To record the song? I don’t know.”

“It sounds like a good opportunity. He seems willing to work

with you to make sure you’re comfortable. I don’t know anything

about the music business, though. Can you trust him?”

Brooke nodded. “I think so.”

“Yes, it’s a very personal song. Only you can decide what to

do with it. But what would Diane want you to do? Keep it locked

up? Or share it and get a big break in your career at the same time?”

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“That’s a good point.” Brooke looked over her shoulder and

smiled. “I’m thinking about it, I promise.”

“Okay.” Addison wanted Brooke to take a chance on this song.

But this was one case where she couldn’t push Brooke. She could

only support her and whatever decision she made. So, instead,

she lay back and enjoyed the gradual relaxation of her exhausted

muscles. “I really needed a hot soak.”

“Me, too.” Brooke traced her fingers over Addison’s arm,

raising goose bumps in their wake.

“I’m glad you came home with me. I know you’d have preferred

to be alone but—”

“There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

Addison wrapped her arms around Brooke and pressed her lips

to her cheek. She let her hands wander under the water, stroking

Brooke’s belly and up her chest. But when her fingertips caressed

Brooke’s left breast she frowned, then returned to it.

“Addison, I’m sorry, I meant it when I said I wasn’t really in

the mood tonight. Do you mind if we just get in bed and cuddle?”

“Have you always had this?” She pressed her fingers into the

swell of Brooke’s breast, on the outside of her nipple.

“What?” Brooke touched herself near Addison’s hand.

“Hold on.” Addison continued to probe until she isolated

the lump, no bigger than a marble. “Here.” She put her hand over

Brooke’s and guided her fingers.

“I hardly feel anything. That’s nothing.”

“Was it there before?”

“I don’t know. I guess not.”

“You guess not? Or you know.” Addison’s heart raced and fear

chased up the back of her throat.

“Jesus, Addison, what’s wrong with you?” Brooke sat up

quickly, sloshing water over the edge of the tub and onto the floor.

“Have you ever felt that lump before? Because I haven’t noticed

it, and I’ve been touching your breasts quite a bit lately.”

“No. I haven’t.”

“You should make an appointment to see your doctor. It could

be benign. Lots of women have lumps that turn out to be nothing.

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Reluctant Hope

It isn’t necessarily a cause for concern, but you should go have it

checked anyway just to be sure.”

“Addison.”

“They’ll probably do a mammogram, and maybe an ultrasound,

then the doctor will tell you how he wants to proceed. Even if they

decide to remove the lump, I hear that’s a fairly easy surgery.”

“Addison,” Brooke said more firmly. “If I promise to make an

appointment will you stop talking about tests and surgery?”

Addison took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Somewhere

in the middle of her rambling, Brooke’s lump and Addison’s own

treatment had blurred together.

They got out of the bathtub and dried off, neither of them

speaking. For Addison, uncertainty had replaced the excitement of

the day. She couldn’t get a read on what Brooke was thinking and

that made her anxious.

She wanted to force Brooke to talk to her, but by doing so she

might only make Brooke curl more tightly into an emotional ball.

So Addison moved silently around the bathroom. She took out her

contacts, brushed her teeth, and washed her face. Since Ramsey was

asleep in the next room, they both put on T-shirts and boxers.

They reached their respective sides of the bed at the same time

and paused with the sheet in their hands, looking at each other.

“I’ll make the appointment,” Brooke said quietly, because she

didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t guess what was going

on in Addison’s head. She barely knew what was happening in her

own. Addison’s discovery had sent a bolt of panic through her, and

listening to Addison go on and on about surgeries hadn’t helped.

She tried to focus on what Addison had said first, that lots of women

got lumps that were eventually diagnosed as benign. A quick search

of the Internet tomorrow morning would confirm if that was true,

and then maybe she could breathe again. For now, she needed to get

into this bed and close her eyes and try to sleep.

Brooke drew back the sheet and climbed in. When she felt

Addison crawl into the other side, she turned toward her. Addison

opened her arms and Brooke moved closer and laid her head on

Addison’s shoulder. The solid feel of Addison’s chest beneath her

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cheek reassured Brooke. She rested her arm across Addison’s belly

and grasped her opposite hip.

Addison kissed her forehead. Brooke wanted to say

something—thought she should. But she didn’t know what. She’d

just had her most emotionally draining day since the day Diane died.

She’d run the full spectrum too, from the nerves about the song

to elation when the audience and apparently Tyler Cason received

it well. Not to mention tearing her own heart out for five minutes

while she performed. At the end of it all, she might finally have been

able to let go of a little of her guilt and grief.

Less than an hour before, she’d stripped her clothes off and

stepped into the oversized tub with Addison, intent on winding

down before crawling into bed. She’d submerged herself, thinking

this was how she wanted to end every day. But whatever relaxation

she’d been able to find had imploded with Addison’s hand on her

breast.

She closed her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep. But she

was still awake a long time later, obsessively probing the lump as if

it might go away on its own. Restlessly she turned over and shoved

her arms under the pillow, trying to find a comfortable position.

Beside her, Addison slept nearly as fitfully, tossing off her side of

the covers, but not fully waking. After pushing the comforter to

the bottom of the bed, Brooke rolled to her side, gathered Addison

against her, and arranged the sheet over both of them. She stroked

Addison’s damp hair off her forehead.

All of the instincts that had been telling her to push Addison

away were blaring full alarms now. But for tonight, she shut them

out and let the slow rhythm of Addison’s breathing lull her to sleep.

❖

“Mommy.”

Addison woke to the sound of Ramsey’s voice seconds before

she flung herself onto the bed. Ramsey landed and immediately

launched herself farther up. Addison caught her, almost in midair,

stopping her from pouncing on Brooke.

• 218 •

Reluctant Hope

“Lightning-fast reflexes,” Brooke said, her voice still rough

from sleep. She rubbed her eyes and sat up.

Ramsey crawled to the middle of the bed and lay down between

them. “Can I watch cartoons in here?”

“Yes.” Addison picked up the remote off the nightstand and

turned on the television on the dresser.

“Not that one.”

Addison flipped through the channels until she came to another

animated show. Ramsey nodded in approval.

Brooke watched Ramsey as if waiting for the inevitable

questions. But Addison knew she was wasting her time. If Ramsey

had questions about finding Brooke in her mother’s bed on Sunday

morning, they’d come later, after she’d had time to digest the

situation. It was just as likely that Ramsey wouldn’t think it odd that

Brooke had slept over. Children were intuitive, and it had been quite

some time since Ramsey asked any questions about why Daddy

didn’t live with them like other kids’ daddies.

So, the three of them lay there watching cartoons. I could

wake up like this every morning. Addison shook her head, mentally

chastising herself. If she thought Brooke was poised to run before

last night, she was probably lacing her shoes about now.

“Can I have cereal for breakfast?” Ramsey asked as the credits

rolled on her cartoon.

“You sure can.”

“Do you want cereal?” Ramsey looked at Brooke.

“No, thanks. I need to get home soon.”

“Ramsey, honey, go brush your teeth.”

“Before breakfast?”

“Yes. Then you can brush them again afterward.” She wanted a

reason to get Ramsey out of the room for a moment before Brooke

made her escape.

Ramsey shrugged and climbed off the bed. Addison waited

until she’d left the room and the door closed behind her.

“Brooke, I—”

“I should get going. I have a million things to do at home.”

Brooke bolted off the bed. She began throwing on her clothes from

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last night in such a hurry that instead of removing the boxers, she

pulled her jeans on over them.

“Please wait.”

“I can’t, Addison. I can’t do this.” Brooke fisted her hands at

her sides. “I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“I haven’t asked you to be anything.”

“You have. You do. Every time you look at me like you don’t

want this to end.”

“I can’t deny that. I don’t want this to end. Do you?”

“No. And that’s the problem.”

Ramsey burst through the door and said, “Mommy, I brushed

my teeth.”

“Okay, sweetie. Go to the kitchen, I’ll be right there.” When

Ramsey had left, Addison spoke quietly. “Brooke, I know losing

Diane messed you up. But you’ve made so much progress, and I

hoped that if you got a chance to work through things, we could—”

“I can’t.”

Addison sighed. “Brooke, I love you. And I think you love me.

Why is that such a problem?”

Brooke stared at her.

“What?” Addison asked, frustrated.

“You love me.”

“Yeah, so what?” She hadn’t meant to make the revelation, but

it was true.

Brooke shook her head. “And I do love you. God, I love you so

much.” Hearing those words and the sincere emotion behind them

made Addison’s chest ache. She took a step toward her but Brooke

held up a hand. “And that’s why I have to leave.”

“Honey, that doesn’t make sense.”

“It does. I wanted you from the first time I saw you. But even

though I noticed you, I knew right away I shouldn’t get involved

with you.”

“Damn it, Brooke. You being scared isn’t reason enough to not

take a chance on what we could have.” Knowing that Brooke felt

the same way made her even more determined that they should be

together.

• 220 •

Reluctant Hope

“This isn’t about me and Diane anymore, Addison. I won’t

pretend I have all of that worked out, but I’m getting there. But

this—” Brooke touched her breast. “What if this is something bad?”

“You can’t jump to that.”

“I certainly can. We can’t hide our heads and pretend we’re

guaranteed a fairy tale.”

“Oh, believe me, I know that as well as anyone.” Addison

circled the bed and took Brooke’s hands. Brooke wouldn’t meet her

eyes, but Addison didn’t need to see them to guess what was going

on. “I also know that going right to the worst-case scenario and

stressing yourself out about it won’t help. You just need to go to the

doctor and get a mammogram.”

“Just go get a mammogram, is that what you did?” Brooke

pulled her hands free.

“For starters. And I still do, every year. On my left breast.

Because nobody has any guarantees in life.”

“Next you’ll be telling me if I go to your precious support

group everything will be better.”

Addison threw up her hands. “Just go get the test, Brooke.

Whatever the results are, we’ll deal with it, together.”

Brooke shook her head. “I can’t put you through that.” Brooke

crossed the bedroom and was halfway down the hall before Addison

caught up with her.

“You don’t even know what you’re dealing with yet.”

“I can’t take the chance, given everything you’ve been through.”

She descended the stairs and headed for the front door.

“Damn it, Brooke. Stop.” Addison grabbed her arm. Realizing

they were within earshot of the kitchen Addison lowered her voice.

“You’re overreacting.”

Brooke stopped, because the plea in Addison’s voice touched

her. Just a few tests and Brooke could know her fate, she realized

that. But she couldn’t quit superimposing the memory of a very sick

Diane onto herself. If she had to go through that again, at least she

could spare Addison the pain of sitting at her bedside.

“I can actually see you shutting down.” Addison shook her

head and the disappointment on her face broke Brooke’s heart.

• 221 •

eRin Dutton

“I’m sorry.” Brooke didn’t know what else to say.

“I can help you through this if you’ll let me. I’ve been where

you are, scared out of your mind. There’s no other fear in this world

quite like being afraid you’re going to die. That one will make you

break out in a cold sweat and shiver from the inside.”

A chill raised bumps on Brooke’s arms when she saw the

torture in Addison’s eyes.

“I beat the cancer, but that terror lingers for a long time. I don’t

think I truly started to let it go until sometime after Ramsey was

born. It would have been so easy to be angry about what I went

through. But I wanted to raise my daughter to be strong and to

believe that anything’s possible. And I realized that the way to show

her that was by example.”

Brooke stood there with her hand on Addison’s front door,

unable to turn the knob.

“I worried about what I was passing on to her and if I would

be here to help her through whatever came. But I started keeping a

notebook, where I wrote down things I wanted to tell her when she

was older in case I wasn’t around. Then I tried to let everything else

go. You can do the same thing. Trust me, trust us, and let everything

else go.”

“I’m sorry, Addison.” Turning that knob and propelling herself

through that door and out of Addison’s life was one of the hardest

things Brooke had ever done. But she didn’t let herself cry. While

she drove home on autopilot and dragged herself up the stairs to

collapse on her bed, she didn’t shed even one of the tears that burned

her eyes.

• 222 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR twenty-two

Brooke Donahue.”

Brooke stood and followed the pleasant woman in

scrubs down the hallway. They stepped into an alcove where the

woman recorded her height, weight, and blood pressure. Then she

showed Brooke into an exam room and left her with instructions on

which way to put on her gown.

Brooke undressed and pulled it on, then scooted onto the paper-

covered table. She was in the wine room today. Each of her gyno’s

exam rooms had a theme. Brooke’s favorite had a beach theme. The

wallpaper had sandcastles and brightly colored lounge chairs with

matching umbrellas. When she lay back for her exam, she could

look up at the framed photo of a coastline on the wall and pretend

she was somewhere else. It was a great idea. The beach room.

But today, she stared at pictures of grapes, with the names of

each various species listed below them in flowing script. On a good

day, she didn’t care that much what a pinot noir grape looked like

in comparison to a sauvignon. And today, she cared even less. She

wanted the beach room so she could think about sipping tropical

drinks under the sun and forgetting her cares.

After a warning knock, her doctor entered the room.

“What seems to be the problem today, Brooke,” she asked

while reading Brooke’s chart.

“I found a lump. In my breast.”

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“Okay.” She flipped through the pages for another minute, still

not making eye contact. Finally, she set the folder aside and looked

up. “How long ago did you find it?”

“A few days.” Brooke had gone home Sunday morning,

knowing she had to wait until Monday to call for an appointment.

First thing Monday morning, she phoned, preparing herself to go

in that day, but the receptionist offered her a slot two days away.

When Brooke inquired about getting in sooner, she said she’d

call if they had any cancellations. Brooke spent the next two days

ignoring Addison’s calls, yet sitting on her couch and listening to

the messages Addison left on her machine. By the end of the second

day, the phone had stopped ringing.

“Let’s see what’s going on.” The doctor pushed the Call button

on the wall nearby, then stepped over to the sink to wash her hands.

The nurse came in and silenced the button. She stood quietly in the

corner while the doctor asked Brooke to put her hands on her hips,

then raise her arm, then the other in the air so she could examine her

breasts.

Brooke glanced over and the nurse was looking around the

room as if she’d rather be anywhere else. Brooke wanted to tell her

to go away, that she’d be much more comfortable without her there

anyway. Instead, she quietly followed the doctor’s instructions.

“Okay, I feel what you’re talking about. Something’s definitely

there.” The doctor probed some more, moving the lump around

with her fingertips. Brooke knew the size and shape of the lump

intimately. She’d touched it obsessively, trying to gauge whether it

seemed to grow each day.

Brooke tried to focus on the doctor’s words as she talked about

her options, but she kept hearing, “Something’s definitely there.” By

the time she left the doctor, with an appointment for an ultrasound

and a return trip to her office, she wasn’t feeling any better about

her situation. Her ultrasound was scheduled for Thursday, but she

couldn’t get back in to see her doctor until Monday. She’d assumed

this would all move a bit more quickly. Instead, she now expected

to wait at least a week to get her ultrasound results. Then, the doctor

had said, if they needed to biopsy or remove the lump, she would

• 224 •

Reluctant Hope

mostly likely refer Brooke to a general surgeon, since she didn’t do

any cutting.

❖

“Stop picking at your food.”

Addison dropped her fork on the table with a clatter that

made the couple at the next table jump. She didn’t bother with an

apologetic look that wouldn’t be sincere anyway.

“Addison.” Charles’s voice carried a note of warning.

“This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it.”

“You’ve barely left the house all week unless it was for

Ramsey.”

“So?”

“Moping won’t do any good.” Charles lifted his napkin from

his lap and wiped his mouth. “She walked out on you. Now you pick

yourself up and move on.”

“You didn’t see her face when she left. I can’t get it out of

my head.” Addison had tortured herself with the memory of their

argument, the anguish on Brooke’s face, and the fact that the first

time they professed their love was in the midst of all that.

“Do you think she’ll just realize she made a mistake and come

running back to you?”

Addison didn’t have an answer. For the first day or so after

Brooke left she’d hoped Brooke would answer her calls. But,

eventually, Addison found her self-respect and stopped calling.

Addison had been trying to act like nothing was wrong for Ramsey’s

sake, but she missed Brooke. Every day she’d walked by Brooke’s

“I’m sorry” card on the refrigerator next to the one Ramsey had

made, her heart broke a little more.

“What are you going to do?” Charles asked.

“If she doesn’t want to be with me, I can’t make her. But I care

about her and I’d like to know that she went to the doctor.”

“That’s crap. You haven’t shied away from anything since your

diagnosis. If you love her, go get her.”

“Aren’t you the one who said she was too butch for me?”

• 225 •

eRin Dutton

He shrugged. “She won me over.”

“She’s not answering my calls. Do you really think if I show up

on her doorstep she would open the door.”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

Addison sighed. “I’ve known for a while that I was setting

myself up for a fall. But I couldn’t help it. Maybe it’s better to

respect her wishes and leave her alone.”

“She’s scared, of her feelings and of what this lump might mean

for her, and for you. She’s probably a little angry, too. You know

what scared and angry feels like. If you’d pushed me away when

you got sick, would you have wanted me to respect your wishes or

to persist?”

His words were still ringing in Addison’s ears an hour later

while she knocked on Brooke’s door. She didn’t hear any sounds

coming from the loft, but the thick steel door would probably block

them out. She knocked again.

“Brooke, if you’re in there I really need to talk to you,” she

called.

She paced the hallway outside Brooke’s apartment, mentally

practicing what she would say if Brooke opened the door. She would

lead with “I love you.” After that she wasn’t certain whether to take

a hard-line approach or maybe appeal to Brooke’s emotions.

She stared at the door, wondering if Brooke was on the other

side looking through the peephole. She pressed her hand to the cool

surface, hoping that if Brooke was that close, she could somehow

transmit her feelings through it. How could she make Brooke see that

being apart was harder than just facing whatever happened together?

Just because Brooke had severed their physical connection, Addison

hadn’t suddenly stopped feeling anything for her.

Five minutes later, when she’d wandered the entire length

of the hall about a dozen times, she finally decided to give up.

Sending one last plaintive look toward the door, she headed for

the stairs. She didn’t allow herself to cry until she got in her car;

then her tears flowed freely until she reached her driveway. She

grabbed a tissue from the glove box and cleaned up her face before

she went inside.

• 226 •

Reluctant Hope

❖

Brooke sat on the steps of the Ryman Auditorium and watched

the tourists file by. She’d driven downtown and parked her car, then

walked around for over an hour before settling here. The turmoil

within her quieted on the steps of one of the most amazing buildings

in Nashville.

The Mother Church of Country Music was sacred. In fact,

the building was originally built as a church and later became a

celebrated concert hall. Back in the day, before the Opry moved

over to Briley Parkway, country-music careers were made on the

stage just inside those heavy wooden doors.

At this hour, the building was already closed for tours, and since no

one was performing tonight the doors were locked. But Brooke didn’t

need to go inside to see the rows of pews, the balconies, or the historic

stage that a few times a season still housed the red-barn backdrop of the

Grand Ole Opry. She had a clear picture of them in her head.

The spirit of this place raced through her blood, in every pulse

inside her veins. For as long as she could remember, she’d dreamed

of seeing an artist perform one of her songs onstage.

Now she wondered if that would happen. She’d let the years

and her career get away from her, and she’d had to lose Diane to

see that.

“God, seriously,” she muttered. “I’m just going to sit around

acting all melancholy?”

A couple walking by looked at her as if they thought she was a

homeless person talking to herself on the street. She glanced down

at her clothes. Her jeans and sweatshirt were clean, not high-dollar

but not transient wear either.

“I have to find something else to do for the next few days.”

She’d had her ultrasound yesterday and now faced a weekend of

sitting around waiting to go back to the doctor for the results.

She stood and, after one final glance at the building behind

her, she walked down to Broadway and turned the corner. She fell

in with the flow of pedestrian traffic and traveled the few blocks to

Poppi’s place.

• 227 •

eRin Dutton

Once inside she went directly to the bar and plopped down on

a stool.

“What’ll it be?” Poppi asked as she approached.

“I need a job.”

“From what I hear, you already have one. Tyler was in and told

me he offered to buy your song.”

“Yeah, he did.” With everything else going on, Brooke hadn’t

thought anymore about his offer.

“Are you planning to do it?” Poppi lifted a bottle out of the

cooler and held it up in invitation, but Brooke shook her head.

“I don’t know.” Brooke rubbed her hands over the surface of the

bar, tracing the pictures of the big-name stars who’d played here. “Are

you going to give me a job? I’ve waited tables before, you know.”

“Since when are you that hard up for income?”

“I’m that hard up for something to fill my time.”

“I’ll give you a job, as long as it doesn’t replace your career.

You seriously consider Tyler’s offer, or at least making some new

moves on your own, and I’ll let you wait tables here.”

“Great. I can start right now.”

“You can start tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Poppi.” Brooke left before Poppi could change her

mind.Brooke stepped outside the bar and pulled out her cell phone.

She called up her contacts and scrolled down to Tyler Cason’s

number, then connected the call.

“Is that offer still on the table?” she asked when he answered.

“Absolutely.”

“You can record the song.”

“Yeah? That’s awesome. I’ll have our producer get in touch

with you.”

“Okay. And if you’re still interested in doing some writing, I

could use the distraction.”

“Anytime.”

“Great. I’m—going to be tied up for a little bit, but I’ll call

you in a couple of weeks or so, and we’ll work out a time to get

together.”

• 228 •

Reluctant Hope

“That sounds great, Brooke. I’m looking forward to it.”

During the walk back to her car, Brooke thought about the

history of this town. She lived in the birthplace of country music

and had somehow lost her passion for it.

But when she thought about how she’d felt while performing

at the benefit, she realized she hadn’t really lost it. She just hadn’t

been looking for it.

• 229 •

• 230 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR twenty-tHRee

Addison fought the knot of people blocking the door and

finally burst through them into the crowded bar. Saturday

night at Poppi’s wasn’t for the timid. Loud, live music and a throng

of people shouting over it made it impossible to really hear anything

inside the packed room.

Addison wove her way to the bar and was relieved to see Poppi

working. She was the only person Addison knew who also knew

Brooke. She hoped Brooke had shared her troubles with Poppi and

maybe she would be able to tell her how she was doing.

“Hey, there,” Poppi said when she caught sight of Addison. She

worked her way to Addison’s end of the bar, putting up drinks as she

went. “Can I get you anything?”

“Have you seen Brooke?” Addison wasn’t interested in a drink,

and she couldn’t focus enough to order one out of politeness until

she’d heard something about Brooke.

“Sure.” At first Poppi seemed surprised that Addison was

asking. But then she narrowed her eyes and Addison could tell

the moment when she caught on that they’d had a falling-out. She

glanced toward the back room, then at a table nearby. “Hey, Wayne,

don’t be rude. Get up and let the lady have your table.”

“What?” The burly looking man with an overgrown beard

hollered back.

“Get up and give this lady your table.”

• 231 •

eRin Dutton

He looked like he wanted to argue, but Poppi’s expression said

no one argued with her. So he elbowed his two buddies and they

picked up their beers and motioned to Addison.

“Sit down, honey,” Poppi said.

Addison did as she was told, and in less than a minute she knew

why. Brooke rushed out of the back room, stopped by the bar to

pick up a drink order, then beelined for a table on the other side of

the room to drop it off. Brooke barely looked up as she worked her

way around to Addison’s table. She was only a step away when she

finally did and their eyes met.

“Addison,” she whispered.

“I love you,” Addison blurted.

Brooke spun around and headed toward the back room. Addison

looked helplessly at Poppi, who motioned for her to go after her. She

sprung out of her chair and forced her way through the crowd after

Brooke.

When Addison cleared the doorway, she found Brooke in a

storage room with her arm braced against the wall and her forehead

pressed to the back of her forearm.

“Brooke, please talk to me.”

Brooke didn’t turn around. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same. You’re working here now?”

“It’s temporary.”

“Did you go to the doctor?”

Brooke sighed, then turned around and leaned back against

the wall. “Yeah. I’m waiting for test results. Depending on the

ultrasound, I may have to have surgery.”

“Why did you shut me out?”

“I had to.”

“No. You didn’t.” Addison took a step closer, but Brooke still

looked like she might bolt.

“I can’t watch you sit by my bedside hopelessly while I wither

away the way I did with Diane.”

“Even after everything I’ve been through, I’ve never been

without hope.”

• 232 •

Reluctant Hope

“You can spout all the platitudes you want, but we both know

what could happen. Those people at the benefit, the ones who don’t

have a chance, I could be one of them now.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit melodramatic?”

“No.” Brooke sighed and her shoulders slumped. “Maybe.”

“Let me be there for you right now. We’ll figure out the rest

later.”“We’ll only get more attached. Maybe I’m being dramatic, but

you can’t tell me for sure that this won’t get bad. I refuse to put you

through that.”

“This isn’t easy for me either, you know.”

“What?”

“I haven’t been sick for many years. But the emotional scars

never completely go away. I’d put that time behind me and built a

life that I was happy with. Then you came along and made me want

things I haven’t wanted in so long. Now, knowing something could

be wrong has stirred all those old fears and memories up.”

“See, it’s probably best if we—”

“But I love you, Brooke. I love you, and to me that means

through the good and the bad. You running away doesn’t change

that.”Brooke shook her head.

“I love you. And you can’t change that. I love you. Hell, my kid

even loves you. We could have something here.”

Brooke’s eyes closed off and Addison saw the final wall slip

into place. Brooke wouldn’t let her in, and if that was ever going to

change, Brooke would have to come to it on her own.

“I’m sorry things happened this way, Brooke. You warned me

from the start that you didn’t want to get involved, but I couldn’t

help myself. So, I brought this heartache on myself.” Brooke

flinched, but Addison continued. “If you need me, you know where

to find me.”

She closed the distance between them, then kissed Brooke on

the cheek. Her heart screamed at her to grab Brooke and hold on,

but she forced her legs to move instead, propelling herself farther

away from Brooke.

• 233 •

eRin Dutton

As she passed through the main room, Poppi gave her a curious

look. Addison shook her head and kept going, needing to clear the

bar before she lost control.

❖

“You’re an idiot,” Poppi said to the nearly empty room. She

stood behind the bar putting away trays of freshly washed glasses.

“What?” Brooke moved from table to table, wiping down the

surfaces. She stopped when she reached the one where Addison had

sat waiting for her. When she’d seen Addison there, she’d felt like

someone had punched her in the stomach. She’d never felt so sick

and yet so happy to see someone.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but that

girl came here with her hat in her hand and you stomped on it.”

Brooke tilted her head. “I’m confused, Poppi. Was her hat in

her hand, or was I stomping on it? And did you mean I was stomping

on her hat or her hand?”

“Okay, smart-ass. Both ways, you’re an idiot who’s going

home alone and broken-hearted.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I don’t have to. That girl loves you.”

“Good God, Poppi,” Brooke flung her towel down on the

table in front of her, “this isn’t a country song. Love doesn’t fix

everything.”

“No. But it makes everything worthwhile.”

Brooke shook her head and silently went back to wiping down

tables. She could feel Poppi casting disapproving glances her way,

but Poppi didn’t say another word. Brooke finished her work and

left. She drove directly home, taking a bit of satisfaction in slamming

the door behind her. She strode to the bedroom, intent on steaming

away the aches of the last couple of hours in a hot shower.

She stopped when she noticed a box of Diane’s things that her

mother had sent over. She’d set it in the corner of the room and

completely forgotten about it for months. Skipping the shower, she

• 234 •

Reluctant Hope

pulled the box near the edge of the bed, sat down, and lifted the

flaps. A stark white envelope sat on top of the contents. She opened

it, knowing it was from Diane’s mother.

Toward the end, one night very late, Diane had initiated a

heart-to-heart with her. She told Brooke she refused to write the

sappy, if-you’re-reading-this-you-know-I’ve-died letter. She said

she was brave enough to say everything to Brooke’s face. Then she

proceeded to tell her how much she loved her and how much their

friendship had meant. They talked for hours, cried together, then

never brought it up again.

But now as Brooke flipped open the plain white card, a part

of her wished Diane had broken her own rule. The scribbled words

inside weren’t in Diane’s handwriting, though.

The two of you were like sisters, always looking out for

each other, protecting each other. Here are a few things I

think she would have wanted you to have. Thank you for

loving my daughter. She was lucky to have you.

Brooke set the card aside and began to lift things out of the

box. Diane’s photo albums. Her high-school letter from when they

played on the volleyball team together. The diamond pendant she

never took off, nestled in a black-velvet box. That last one was a

tough one. Brooke wished Diane had been buried with it instead.

When she pulled out a yearbook from their senior year, she

paused to leaf through it, smiling at the pictures of them. At the

bottom of the box, she found an unmarked DVD in a plain black

box. She slid off the bed and popped open the DVD player, set the

disc into the tray, and picked up the remote.

“Don’t be a sex tape, don’t be a sex tape, don’t be a sex tape,”

she chanted as she waited for the picture to come up on the television.

When she heard familiar music, she knew what she was about

to see. This was a copy of the video slideshow from Diane’s funeral.

The photos progressed through Diane’s childhood and into her high-

school years. Brooke began appearing in many of them, and with

• 235 •

eRin Dutton

each one she was instantly transported back to that day—sleepovers,

sports-team photos, prom night, and graduation. She relived each

moment of their friendship, missing Diane even more for the times

they’d never get to have together.

When the slide from that party—that final party—popped up on

the screen, Brooke thought about Addison. They’d both been there,

and though Brooke searched her memory, she didn’t remember

seeing Addison. Knowing her as she did now, she had difficulty

imagining that she could be in the same room as Addison and

not notice her. Her senses seemed to go on heightened alert when

Addison was around. Even now, Brooke could feel the softness of

her skin, the scent of her perfume, fresh and clean like soap, and the

taste of her kiss.

Right now she longed for the feel of Addison’s arms more than

anything. How would she get through this without her?

❖

Ramsey stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth as she

gripped her pencil and concentrated. She meticulously copied the

sample words Addison had written for her onto the paper in front of

her, referring back to Addison’s paper often.

When the doorbell rang, Ramsey almost bolted out of her chair.

“Sit,” Addison said. “Finish those words.”

Ramsey’s lower lip poked out, but she sat back down.

Addison hadn’t expected to find Brooke at her door, but when

she looked out the peephole that’s exactly who she saw. Brooke

glanced at Addison’s car in the driveway, then rang the bell again.

Addison rested her forehead against the door and tried to will

herself not to answer. Almost two weeks hadn’t been nearly enough

time for her to get over Brooke, but she would lose whatever tiny

progress she’d made the second she opened the door.

She looked out again and saw Brooke hang her head and start

to turn away. Unable to let her leave, Addison jerked the door open.

Brooke spun around, a look of relief on her face.

“Hi,” she said tentatively.

• 236 •

Reluctant Hope

“Brooke!” Ramsey exclaimed. She jumped down from the

table and ran to the door.

Addison stuck her hand out and caught Ramsey before she

could get to Brooke. “Ramsey, go to your room and play.”

“No, I wanna—”

“Now, Ramsey.”

Obviously hearing the tone she shouldn’t argue with, Ramsey

headed for her bedroom. She got halfway across the living room and

turned around. Glaring defiantly at Addison, she gave Brooke a big

smile and a wave, then ran off before Addison could say anything

to her.

Brooke chuckled. “She’s her mother’s daughter.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like we’re friends.” Addison was partly angry about

what had happened between them, but she was also frustrated that

Brooke had so thoroughly charmed Ramsey. After Addison had

made repeated excuses for why Brooke hadn’t been around, Ramsey

had nearly stopped asking. Now, she would probably start all over.

Brooke shifted from side to side, looking uncomfortable and

uncertain, and Addison was glad. When she finally did speak, her

words sliced through Addison so severely that she swore she must

be bleeding inside.

“So…apparently they don’t let you drive yourself home from

this type of surgery.”

Addison gulped, but she didn’t say a word for fear that she’d

break down.

“Come on, Addison, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“That’s why you’re here? Because you don’t have anyone to

drive you?”

“Not entirely.”

“Why else?”

Brooke leaned forward and looked around the corner into the

living room. “Can I at least come in while we talk?”

“You can talk from there.” If Addison let Brooke across the

threshold she might not have the strength to make her leave if she

needed to.

• 237 •

eRin Dutton

“Okay. The ultrasound showed a solid mass. I’m having it

removed and a pathologist will biopsy it right away. If it’s malignant,

they may have to remove more tissue before closing me up.”

Brooke’s expression was emotionless, but her eyes showed every

ounce of fear.

Addison bit her lower lip, but a thick lump was growing in the

back of her throat.

Brooke held her hands out in supplication and shook her head.

“I’m so sorry, Addison. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“When is your surgery?”

“First thing in the morning.”

“Jesus,” Addison whispered, her head spinning at the thought

of taking Brooke to the hospital the next day. She sucked in a breath

and steeled herself for the fact that maybe Brooke was only here for

a ride. “Okay, I’ll drive you.”

A small smile touched Brooke’s lips and she released a heavy

breath. “Thank you.”

“What time should I pick you up?” Addison told herself she

could get the time, then close the door. She could.

“Six, but that’s not the only reason I’m here.”

Addison waited.

“I—missed you. I was wrong.” Brooke paused as if expecting

Addison to say something. “First, I let my feelings about Diane’s

death get all mixed up with my feelings about your past. Then, in

the past couple of weeks, things got worse when I thought I might

be in a similar situation.”

“You still might.”

“I know.”

“So, if nothing has really changed, what are you doing here?”

“I was going through some of Diane’s things and I realized I’d

been looking at the situation all wrong. She and I had some great

times. We also had some tough times that I wouldn’t have made

it through without her. If I’d known back then that our friendship

would end prematurely, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I wouldn’t

have wanted to miss out on what she and I shared. And I wouldn’t

want my fear to make me miss knowing you either. Whether we

• 238 •

Reluctant Hope

have weeks, or months, or years together, I want to spend every

minute of it with you.”

Brooke drew in a deep breath, waiting for Addison’s response.

She’d thought a lot about what she might say on the way over here,

but she still needed Addison to accept her apology. “Look, I know I

was supposed to bring diamonds this time, but it felt like that would

have been skipping a few steps. So all I can offer is an apology. But

if you need more I can go knock out another card for you.”

The corner of Addison’s mouth twitched. “What about

Ramsey?”

“What about her?”

“I won’t let her get close to someone who might not stick

around. We’re not looking for temporary.”

“Neither am I. Didn’t you hear anything I just said. I love you.

And I love Ramsey.”

“And you’ll still feel that way no matter what happens

tomorrow?”

“Yes. No matter what. You’re making this kind of hard on me.”

Was there actually a chance she might still walk away from this

alone?Addison nodded. “I know. I want it to be hard for you. No one’s

guaranteed good health and prosperity. I’ve seen how bad things can

get, and I have to know you won’t run if it gets tough.”

Brooke took a step forward and put her hands on Addison’s

waist. Addison didn’t stop her. She buried her face against Addison’s

neck and sighed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Brooke whispered. Her heart

vibrated with the truth of the words, and she hoped Addison could

trust her. When Addison wrapped her arms around her, Brooke

relaxed a little. Maybe she hadn’t completely screwed this up.

Brooke eased back. “Now can I come in?”

Addison nodded, then stepped back. They moved to the couch

together and sat down.

“Mommy,” Ramsey called from the hallway.

“Yes?”

“I wanna say hi to Brooke.”

• 239 •

eRin Dutton

“Okay.”

Ramsey ran into the room and flung herself onto the couch.

She sprawled across their laps, draping her legs over Addison’s and

laying her head on Brooke’s thighs.

“Sure you want to sign up for this?” Addison asked quietly.

Brooke smiled. “Absolutely.” She pushed Ramsey’s disheveled

curls out of her eyes and listened as she began talking about learning

to write her letters.

Sitting there with Addison, Brooke was the most peaceful

she’d been since Diane died. She only prayed she could hold onto

that feeling until the morning. She touched Addison’s cheek. How

had she ever doubted that this was where she belonged?

• 240 •

Reluctant Hope

cHapteR twenty-FouR

Honey, I’ll be home in a couple of hours…Yes…Yes, I’ll

bring Brooke home with me…No, she can’t come to the

phone…Brooke isn’t feeling well right now, so she’s going to need

to rest for a little while…I’m sure she would like that.”

Addison’s words reached Brooke through a thick fog as she

forced open her eyes. Addison sat in a chair pulled up close to

Brooke’s hospital bed, and her hand cradled Brooke’s.

“I would like what?” Brooke’s voice was rough, her throat dry.

“Hey, sweetie, how are you?”

Testing, Brooke moved a little. She was groggy still, but felt no

pain. “I’m okay. What would I like?”

Addison pressed her lips together as if trying not to show her

true emotions. “Ramsey wants to help take care of you like you took

care of her when she was sick.”

“Did the doctor say anything?” Brooke’s heart thudded. Was

Addison trying to figure out how to deliver the bad news?

“Not yet. The nurse said the surgery went fine and the doctor

would come and talk to you once you woke up.”

Brooke nodded and squeezed Addison’s hand. She lifted the

sheet, pulled out the neck of her hospital gown, and looked down

at her chest. The bandages there offered little clue as to what the

doctors had found underneath.

“Do you still have two of them?” Addison asked, craning to

look as well. Her strained voice didn’t match the lightheartedness

of her words.

• 241 •

eRin Dutton

“Yes.” Brooke pulled Addison’s hand into her lap and stroked

up her forearm. “Are you still in, no matter what?”

“You know, at some point we’re going to have to stop asking

each other that.”

“How about right now?” Brooke looked into Addison’s eyes

and realized she didn’t need the reassurance. She saw it all right

there.

“Okay.” Addison smiled. “I’m here for you. But you should

also know that if you need more support—”

“I’m not going back to your group.”

“Just think about it. You don’t know how difficult things may

get.”“Let’s take this one step at a time.” She squeezed Addison’s

hand. She couldn’t totally discount the collection of people who’d

meant so much to Diane and Addison. Since attending the meeting

she viewed them as people with real fears and concerns instead of

a villainous group. “I promise that no matter what the doctor says

today, I’ll always be honest with you about what I feel. And if I

become overwhelmed or need help, we’ll figure out the best way to

proceed together. Is that good enough for now?”

Addison nodded.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Addison angled forward and captured

Brooke’s mouth in a gentle kiss. Her lips caressed Brooke’s in a

way that let her know it didn’t matter what the future held. As long

as they had love and hope they could face it all.

“Brooke,” the doctor called as he knocked once and came into

the room. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He took a step back.

Addison pulled back, but when she started to slip her hand out

of Brooke’s, Brooke held on. She enfolded Addison’s hand in hers.

“It’s okay,” she said.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked.

Brooke met Addison’s eyes and said, “Yes, we are.”

• 242 •

About the Author

Erin Dutton is the author of seven romance novels: Sequestered

Hearts, Fully Involved, A Place to Rest, Designed for Love, Point of Ignition, A Perfect Match, and Reluctant Hope. She is also a

contributor to Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games and Romantic

Interludes 1 & 2 from Bold Strokes Books. She revisited two

characters from one of her novels in Breathless: Tales of Celebration.

She is a 2011 recipient of the Alice B. Readers’ Appreciation Award

for her body of work.

Erin lives near Nashville, Tennessee, with her amazing partner

and often draws inspiration from both her adopted hometown and

places she’s traveled. When not working or writing, she enjoys

playing golf and spending time with friends and family.

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around her. (978-1-60282-210-8)

Kiss the Rain by Larkin Rose. How will successful fashion designer

Eve Harris react when she discovers the new woman in her life,

Jodi, and her secret fantasy phone date, Lexi, are one and the same?

(978-1-60282-211-5)

Sarah, Son of God by Justine Saracen. In a story within a story

within a story, a transgendered beauty takes us through Stonewall-

rioting New York, Venice under the Inquisition, and Nero’s Rome.

(978-1-60282-212-2)

Sleeping Angel by Greg Herren. Eric Matthews survives a

terrible car accident only to find out everyone in town thinks he’s

a murderer—and he has to clear his name even though he has no

memories of what happened. (978-1-60282-214-6)

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