Hope Flames: Hope Book 1 (15 page)

“I don’t know,” Jane said, as they pushed their trays around the different stations. “I had kind of set my mind on Bert’s biscuits and gravy tonight.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes and hip-checked Jane. “I don’t know how the hell you stay so thin, given your atrocious diet.”

“That’s easy,” Jane said with a smug smile. “Two kids, one in sports, one in dance, and a very active sex life.”

“You suck, and you’re only saying that because you know I currently have no sex life.”

“And whose fault is that?” Emma asked as they reached their table and set down their trays. “Chelsea, you’re gorgeous. I’d kill for red hair like yours. And your body? Please. I mean, I know I’m a heterosexual female, but geez. You’re built.”

Chelsea laughed. “Well, thanks. But it’s like men are afraid of me. It’s not like I’m throwing out don’t-approach-me signals. I’m very, very available, if you know what I mean.”

Jane picked up a carrot. “So you’re saying you’re advertising your wares like a slut, but no one’s buying?”

Emma nearly choked on her iced tea. “Jane. I don’t think that’s what she meant at all.”

But Chelsea just laughed. “Well, yeah, kind of like that. I mean, it’s been a very long dry spell. Men just don’t notice me.” She shrugged.

Emma shook her head. “Men are blind sometimes. Or stupid.”

“Definitely stupid if they aren’t noticing you, Chelse.”

“Y’all are good for my ego. We should go out more often.”

“I would, but it might interfere with all that sex I’m having.”

Chelsea narrowed her gaze at Jane. “I don’t remember you being such a bitch. Why are we friends again?”

Emma laughed. Being with Jane and Chelsea was good for her. They made her laugh.

“Have you heard from Molly lately?” Jane asked her.

Emma nodded. “I talked to her yesterday.”

“Still in . . . where is she now?”

“She’s still in Little Rock. It hasn’t been that long. She’s usually good for about three to six months before she has to take off.”

“How long has it been since she’s been home?” Chelsea asked, using her chopsticks to slide noodles between her lips.

Emma blew out a breath. “I can’t remember. Too long.”

“Why does she stay away? Or is that too personal a question?”

“She has a hundred reasons. Or excuses. She left kind of abruptly after high school graduation, bailed on her college of choice, even though she had a scholarship. And she’s never come back.”

“I assume you’ve asked her why.” Chelsea slid a wonton into the lively sweet red dipping sauce.

“I’ve repeatedly asked her why. She just says she changed her mind and decided she wanted an adventure instead of school. Which is fine, I mean people change their minds about education all the time. But never coming home? She’s never produced what I consider a good reason. She always tells me that home is wherever she lands, and if she came back to Hope that might signal the end of her adventures, so she’s afraid to do that. But I don’t think that’s it. I think there’s a bad memory here.”

“Something bad happened to her here?” Chelsea frowned.

Emma shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of. Or not that she ever told me, but Molly has always carried her emotions within. She wasn’t one to share. For all I know, she got fired from a job and that scarred her enough to never want to come back.”

Jane gave her a look of disbelief. “Oh, come on. That wouldn’t keep her from coming home. Did she have a guy?”

Emma nodded. “Carter Richards. Molly and Carter were inseparable from the time they were kids. God, since they were twelve up until high school graduation. Until Molly left town.”

“So they broke up when she left?”

“I guess. I was away at school during those last couple years, so I don’t really know what went down with the two of them. As far as I knew, they were still together, still madly in love. They had planned to go to the same college. Carter went to college, but Molly didn’t.”

“So maybe it was something with the two of them. Some bad breakup,” Jane suggested.

“I asked her about it, but she said her relationship with Carter had run its course, and he had nothing to do with her leaving town.”

“Do you believe her?” Chelsea asked.

Emma shrugged. “With Molly, I don’t know what to believe.”

“What about seeing your mom and dad?” Jane asked. “Ten years is a long time to be away from home.”

“They fly out to wherever she happens to live and visit her a couple times a year. And always try to convince her to come home. Or at least they used to. I think over the years they’ve stopped trying.”

“That’s just so odd,” Chelsea said.

Emma scooped rice onto her fork. “Tell me about it.”

Explaining her younger sister to people had never been an easy thing. She wished she and Molly had been tighter, that Molly felt comfortable enough to confide in her. When they were younger, they were so close, would tell each other
everything. After Emma went away to college, she lost touch with Molly, which was Emma’s fault. She’d gotten wrapped up in school.

In Vaughn. And he’d taken away everything, including her relationship with her sister. And with that distance, Molly stopped confiding in her.

She’d lost so much because of him. Because of her weaknesses. Which was why she was such a bad judge of relationships.

Of men.

She pushed her plate to the side.

“How are your knees, Emma?” Jane asked.

Happy to not talk about her sister anymore, or dwell on the past, she smiled and said, “Healing. Better. Thanks.”

“Good thing you had the hot cop there to help you. Was he your knight in shining armor?” Chelsea teased.

“Actually, he was more than that. He drove me home, bandaged me up, and settled me on the sofa. Then he ordered pizza, and when I got tired, he tucked me into bed and left.”

Chelsea arched a brow. “I’m surprised he didn’t offer to sleep there.”

Emma took a sip of her tea. “Actually, he did. On the couch, in case I needed anything.”

“Aww, that was so sweet of him,” Jane said.

“It was. Just so very nice of him.” She stared down at her tea, wanting to ask the question but not wanting to appear naïve.

“Will’s like that, too. He always does things that surprise me.”

She lifted her gaze. “Does he? Like what?”

“Well, for example, the other day I got stuck with monitoring detention at school, so he picked up the kids and dropped Ryan off at baseball practice, then got Tabby ready for dance. Can you imagine Will doing Tabby’s hair? But he did, and she looked adorable. He stayed through dance class, then picked up Ryan, and had dinner on the table when I came home.”

Chelsea leaned back in the booth. “He’s a regular Prince Charming, isn’t he? Wherever did you find him?”

“At the gym,” Jane said with a serene smile. “And you dated him. You know what he’s like.”

“I do know what he’s like. But I didn’t have kids, and he and I are better as friends. And hey, I go to the gym. Trust me, there aren’t guys like him there.”

“So you’re saying men like Will—and I guess Luke. That’s not typical guy behavior?”

Chelsea snorted at Emma’s question. “Uh, no. Not all men are nice guys.”

No one knew that better than Emma.

Jane squeezed her hand. “Hang on to Luke, Emma. Trust me when I tell you that great guys aren’t a dime a dozen. When you find a good one, you don’t want to let him go.”

She had a lot of thinking to do.

Chapter 12

IT HAD BEEN a few days since Luke had seen Emma. He’d pulled a couple of double shifts, and he wanted to give her some time to recover. On his breaks, he’d texted her a few times to check on her knees, and she’d texted him back that she was doing fine and healing up fast. He’d been relieved to hear that. He wished he’d had time to stop by and check on her, but damn work had gotten in his way.

Plus, he’d made that whole mental promise to himself that he wouldn’t see her again. She was too hard on his—well, his everything. His libido, for one thing. He knew she wasn’t looking for a relationship, and he sure as hell wasn’t.

The problem was, he kept thinking about her. About that night they’d spent together. He wanted to be with her again. Which was a clear sign that he shouldn’t see her again. Another night together could only spell trouble.

Since this was his day off, he decided to spend it working on his truck, which needed way more maintenance than his screwed-up love life. After a punishing workout at the gym in the morning, he went home, took a shower, and headed to
his friend Carter Richards’s flagship auto-repair shop, the first of the many he’d opened in his growing chain.

He didn’t expect to see Carter coming out of his office as he entered the shop.

“Surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be at one of your other shops in Tulsa.”

Carter gave him a grin. “I had some . . . personnel issues to deal with here today.”

“Fired someone, huh?”

“Yeah. And now I want some coffee. You up for it, or do you need to leave?”

“I have time. I was dropping the truck off for some diagnostic work anyway.”

“Good. I have a craving for cinnamon rolls from Bert’s.”

“Let’s go. You’ll have to drive.”

They pushed through the front door, and Carter led him to his car.

Luke arched a brow, then trailed his fingers down the clean edges of the classic ’67 Mustang Shelby. “Really?”

“Hey, I’ve always wanted one. Now I can afford it.”

Luke shook his head and climbed into the car. It smelled as sweet as it looked, and Luke was envious. “You’ve done well.”

“Thanks. I’m having fun with the car. Beats having a wife.”

“Ouch.”

“Hey, at least you got smart and got rid of her.”

Luke buckled his seat belt. “If you remember, she dumped me.”

“She was a social-climbing bitch. That’s all I remember about Becca.”

Luke laughed, but then Carter turned the key and the Shelby rumbled to life.

“This one talks back,” Luke said.

Carter grinned. “No, she doesn’t. She purrs, like every woman should.”

Luke shook his head, but couldn’t help admiring the lines
of the Shelby. What he wouldn’t give to own something like this. On a cop’s salary, though, it wasn’t likely to happen.

“You could have one,” Carter said, as if he’d just read Luke’s mind.

“Not a chance.”

“Just buy a junker and restore it. I worked a lot of week-ends on this one. She wasn’t perfect when I got her, but she’s an original, and she’s beautiful.”

He swept his hand across the sleek leather seats. “Maybe. Someday.”

“What else do you have to do on your off days?”

What else, indeed?

Carter parked in front of Bert’s, and they went inside and grabbed a seat. Luke ordered coffee and, with not more than a second’s hesitation, one of those cinnamon rolls that Carter was craving.

It didn’t take them long to dive into the food, which they did pretty quietly. Even though Luke had already eaten breakfast, there was no use denying himself a roll. Freshly baked, thick, and slathered with icing. When he was full, he pushed the evidence of his gluttony to the side.

“It’s going to cost me a lot of running time to burn those calories.”

“Worth it, though,” Carter said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Yeah, you’re right. So who was the guy you had to fire?”

“One of the dudes in the body shop. His skills just weren’t up to par.”

“Bodywork is important. You can’t afford to keep someone on who isn’t good.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve gone through three guys in the body shop here in Hope in the past year. I don’t know why I can’t get a good body guy.”

“Maybe you can fill in until you find someone,” Luke teased.

“Yeah, you’re a laugh riot.”

“As I recall, it used to be your specialty. That and rebuilding engines.”

“Sure, in high school. Now I have enough to do just running the stores.”

“You don’t miss getting your hands dirty under the hood of a car?”

Carter grinned. “Who says I don’t get my hands dirty anymore?”

“That manicure and the lack of grease under your nails.”

“Manicure my ass. You’re such a dick, McCormack. I could strip down an engine before you’ve even dragged your lazy ass out of bed in the morning.”

Unfazed, Luke sipped his coffee. “So you say, rich boy. But I still say your hands are too clean to be doing the grunt work.”

Carter signaled for the waitress, who presented him with the check. “Let’s go take a look at your truck.”

Two hours later, Luke and Carter were filthy, staring under the hood of Luke’s truck.

“It’s a fuel injector problem,” Carter explained. “They all seem to be injecting fuel, but not firing properly on all cylinders. I think a couple of them are clogged. You’re getting fuel to all your cylinders, but the number three and number five are running lean, like they’re not getting as much fuel as the rest of them.”

Carter’s formerly white shirt was now covered in grease, and he seemed unconcerned about it. He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands.

Luke nodded. “I thought that might be the issue, but I didn’t have the diagnostics at home.”

“It doesn’t appear to be a problem with getting fire to the injector. The injector is either getting clogged up, or it’s just plain toast. We’ll run some cleaner through it and see if that takes care of it, but I seriously doubt it will. My suggestion is to replace these. That should solve your problem.”

“Sounds good. Try the cleaner, but if that doesn’t work, replace them.”

Carter signaled for one of his mechanics, stating instructions. The guy nodded and walked away.

“Satisfied now that I know what the hell I’m doing?” Carter asked as they both headed to the sink.

“Hell, you always knew what you were doing. I just enjoy giving you shit.”

Carter cocked a grin. “It was fun getting into an engine again. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Do I get a discount since I helped with the diagnostics?”

“No. You have to pay extra because the diagnostics came from the owner.”

“Now who’s the dick?”

Carter laughed. They headed up to his office to get a soda. Luke sat in the chair and crossed his feet at the ankle.