Sweet Hope

There was nothing more beautiful than a smiling Axel Carillo.

I yearned for him to open up to me. I could see he was haunted. He barely slept. He worked every hour God sent on his heartbreaking sculptures, as if purging his past. I knew that if he just shared his demons with me, he could perhaps begin to heal, but for now, I was content to just have him in my life. I knew, that to many, the idea of being in this man’s company would be a living nightmare. But, to me, being in his strong arms was the sweetest of dreams… my heartfelt wish come true… my bolt of lightning.

“I’m ready, darlin’,” I said to Molly. I tried not to show my growing excitement at seeing my man in a matter of minutes, as we walked outside toward my rental underneath a drizzly Seattle sky.

Striding slowly next to Molly, we got in the car and my heart began to race as I pictured his hard stare penetrating mine. Only the two of us aware of our forbidden relationship. It made everything we shared so much more intense, like we knew every moment spent kissing, discussing art and joined to one another was more because it was solely for us.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Molly said, her head leaning back against the leather headrest, her hand running gently over her growing stomach.

I blushed as I ran my hands down my knee length black high-waisted pencil skirt; my white three-quarter sleeved crop top showed about an inch of flesh between it and my skirt. My hair was down and curled, pinned to one side, and on my feet I had my four-inch black painted leather Louboutins.

I had dressed for Axel. And literally couldn’t wait for him to see me. I wanted to see that flare of desperation in his eyes, the one he shows when I’m naked before him, his sculptor’s hands stroking every inch of my body as though I was a muse.

“Just thought I’d make an effort,” I said with a nonchalant shrug when I caught Molly curiously watching my face.

Molly smiled in reply, but I could tell by her assessing gaze that her genius mind was working overtime. I changed the conversation to the latest developments at the gallery, trying to throw her off the scent. In ten short minutes, we arrived at the Carillo residence.

It made me laugh when I realized weeks ago how close they lived to Molly and Rome. Not that Axel stayed here much now, he’d practically moved into his studio, running from his unresolved problems with Levi… but mainly so we could be together. I knew Austin and Lexi questioned where he was most nights, I’d heard them talking in hushed whispers, worried Axel was up to no good again, but they didn’t push it. I think Austin was afraid if he did ask, Axel would close himself off completely. He was probably right; Axel's shield was about as easy to break into as Fort Knox.

I wished he’d tell them about his art, about the fact that he’d changed his life and was an exceptional man, with an unrivaled talent, but he wouldn’t. Instead, he’d rather they think he worked at a fish market, paying back society for his illegal wrongs.

He kept himself in such a state of self-loathing that it broke my heart. He deserved the world, but until the day came that he welcomed that world in, I bestowed on him all the grace I could muster.

As Molly and I got out the car, the front door opened and Rome came hurrying out, his eyes immediately seeking out his wife. He’d been at Seahawks training with Austin, then came straight here. Jimmy-Don had gone with them, and I’d agreed to bring Molly.

“Baby, you okay?” I heard Rome ask Molly as he helped her out of the car. “You don’t look so good.”

“Rome, don’t start. I’m fine,” Molly remarked in exasperation, but Rome flickered a concerned look toward me. I shrugged. Honestly, I didn’t think she looked well either, but she was one stubborn woman who insisted she came.

Hanging behind Molly and Rome, I scanned the windows for signs of life. We slowly entered the house, and as soon as I did, my eyes sought out Axel. My stomach dropped in disappointment when he was nowhere to be seen. I was like an addict, craving just a glimpse of his brooding form.

Rome took the lead, holding Molly, and led us to the left into a huge TV room. On the couch right in front of me was a pregnant Cassie, her blonde hair and red cheeks as bright as ever.

As soon as her eyes clocked mine, she hurriedly rose from the couch and plastered on the biggest smile. “Ally friggin’ Prince!” she bellowed out in her loud Texan accent, her usual rhinestone jeans and plaid shirt covering her large baby bump.

“Cassie!” I squealed in excitement and crossed the room to take her in my arms. “I’ve missed you so much, girl!” I said in her ear and she held me in her tight strong grip.