Read Online ABANDON ALL HOPE: The Hope Brother Series (Book Two) by Honey Palomino - Free Book Online
Authors: Honey Palomino
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rip his clothes off and see exactly what was underneath all those manners and good graces that he seemed to wear like some sort of armor. I couldn’t help but think there was a whole lot more to this man than he showed. He was so well put together that I longed to see him naked, with ruffled hair, with passion in his eyes, with his guard down completely.
But I wouldn’t dare suggest that. It just wasn’t what a proper country girl did on a first date, whether I liked it or not.
I smiled and slid out of the limo, saying goodnight to his driver as I made my way back to my car.
When I finally arrived home, I was thankful that my father was passed out like a light on the couch. I wasn’t in any mood to talk to him, and I went straight to my room, kicking off the uncomfortable heels and undressing in the dark.
When I finally got in bed, I forced myself to think about Lincoln until I fell asleep, pushing all thoughts of Crit way into the back of my mind.
I read once that you can break a bad habit in twenty-one days. Maybe if I could stop thinking about Crit for that long, I could move on with my life.
Maybe my obsession with Crit was just a bad habit that needed breaking.
Maybe Lincoln was just what I needed to do that.
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
I spotted the limo when I turned the corner and pulled up to Johnson’s office. It looked as out of place as a chicken in church. But somehow, it gave me hope.
If LaCroix’s nephew had enough money to be driven around in a limo, then he probably wasn’t too interested in my tiny little farm.
Johnson greeted me at the door.
“Crit, nice to see you son,” he drawled, his voice cracking with age, reminding me that he was getting up there in years.
“Mr. Johnson,” I replied, tipping my wide brimmed black stetson at him.
“LaCroix’s nephew is in my office waiting,” he said.
“Yeah, I saw the limo,” I replied.
“Oh. Of course, how could you miss that giant thing?” he winked at me and led me down the hall.
As I followed him, I tried to ignore the knot in my stomach.
This was business , I reminded myself. I could handle anything thrown at me , I thought. W e’re just a couple of men tying up some loose ends with our family. No big deal.
My mama used to say that you should listen to your gut. That’s how your body signals to you things that it knows before your brain does.
In this case, she was right.
As soon as I walked into LaCroix’s office, and locked eyes with the man standing in front of me, I knew I should have listened to the warning signs.
“Crit Hope,” Johnson said, “this is Lincoln LaCroix, Olly LaCroix’s nephew.”
“You?!”
The man from Norma’s diner stood in front of me, his hand outstretched and empty, his eyes bewildered and beady.
“Have you two already met?” Johnson asked nervously, immediately sensing the tension between us.
“Not formally,” I replied, taking the man’s hand in mine and giving it a nice, firm, and what I hoped was slightly intimidating handshake. He returned the handshake firmly, and even gripped it a little too hard, overcompensating for the smooth skin of his palm. His hands were softer than Ruby’s, for fuck’s sake. Right away, I knew this man had never done a day of hard work in his life.
Your future is in those hands , I reminded myself silently, doing my best not to break his fragile fingers before I let go, despite the strong urge that was shooting through me.
“Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot, Mr. LaCroix,” I said, trying for manners and good graces to try to begin again with him.
“Call me Lincoln,” he said stiffly, sitting back down in the chair across from Johnson’s desk, and ignoring my words. I sat down next to him, and Johnson sat down after me.
“Okay, Lincoln it is,” I replied, still looking over at him. He wouldn’t look at me, instead staring straight over at Johnson. “I’m real sorry to hear about your uncle. He
But I wouldn’t dare suggest that. It just wasn’t what a proper country girl did on a first date, whether I liked it or not.
I smiled and slid out of the limo, saying goodnight to his driver as I made my way back to my car.
When I finally arrived home, I was thankful that my father was passed out like a light on the couch. I wasn’t in any mood to talk to him, and I went straight to my room, kicking off the uncomfortable heels and undressing in the dark.
When I finally got in bed, I forced myself to think about Lincoln until I fell asleep, pushing all thoughts of Crit way into the back of my mind.
I read once that you can break a bad habit in twenty-one days. Maybe if I could stop thinking about Crit for that long, I could move on with my life.
Maybe my obsession with Crit was just a bad habit that needed breaking.
Maybe Lincoln was just what I needed to do that.
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
I spotted the limo when I turned the corner and pulled up to Johnson’s office. It looked as out of place as a chicken in church. But somehow, it gave me hope.
If LaCroix’s nephew had enough money to be driven around in a limo, then he probably wasn’t too interested in my tiny little farm.
Johnson greeted me at the door.
“Crit, nice to see you son,” he drawled, his voice cracking with age, reminding me that he was getting up there in years.
“Mr. Johnson,” I replied, tipping my wide brimmed black stetson at him.
“LaCroix’s nephew is in my office waiting,” he said.
“Yeah, I saw the limo,” I replied.
“Oh. Of course, how could you miss that giant thing?” he winked at me and led me down the hall.
As I followed him, I tried to ignore the knot in my stomach.
This was business , I reminded myself. I could handle anything thrown at me , I thought. W e’re just a couple of men tying up some loose ends with our family. No big deal.
My mama used to say that you should listen to your gut. That’s how your body signals to you things that it knows before your brain does.
In this case, she was right.
As soon as I walked into LaCroix’s office, and locked eyes with the man standing in front of me, I knew I should have listened to the warning signs.
“Crit Hope,” Johnson said, “this is Lincoln LaCroix, Olly LaCroix’s nephew.”
“You?!”
The man from Norma’s diner stood in front of me, his hand outstretched and empty, his eyes bewildered and beady.
“Have you two already met?” Johnson asked nervously, immediately sensing the tension between us.
“Not formally,” I replied, taking the man’s hand in mine and giving it a nice, firm, and what I hoped was slightly intimidating handshake. He returned the handshake firmly, and even gripped it a little too hard, overcompensating for the smooth skin of his palm. His hands were softer than Ruby’s, for fuck’s sake. Right away, I knew this man had never done a day of hard work in his life.
Your future is in those hands , I reminded myself silently, doing my best not to break his fragile fingers before I let go, despite the strong urge that was shooting through me.
“Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot, Mr. LaCroix,” I said, trying for manners and good graces to try to begin again with him.
“Call me Lincoln,” he said stiffly, sitting back down in the chair across from Johnson’s desk, and ignoring my words. I sat down next to him, and Johnson sat down after me.
“Okay, Lincoln it is,” I replied, still looking over at him. He wouldn’t look at me, instead staring straight over at Johnson. “I’m real sorry to hear about your uncle. He
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