THE HOPE BROTHERS: The Bad Boys of Sugar Hill Read online

  “You have no idea. Let me show you, Lincoln.”

  He put the gun down on the bar, and turned me around. When he freed my hands, I sighed in relief.

  “Thank you,” I said, turning around and snaking my arms around his neck as I kissed him. His whiskey breath seared my senses, and I willed myself not to gag.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  Crit

  “Just let me go up there!” I screamed to the cop in charge.

  “Sorry, sir, that’s not going to happen,” he replied. “We’ve got everything under control.”

  “The fuck you do!” I hollered. “He could be doing anything to her up there! What the hell are you waiting for?”

  “Sir, if you don’t leave the area, I’ll be forced to have you restrained,” he said, standing in front of me, his black, beady, unemotional eyes staring back at me fearlessly.

  I turned and walked away. There has to be something I can do, I thought. I looked up at the windows of the hotel, searching for a way in that wasn’t being guarded by armed police. They were swarming all over the front of the property by now, having flowed into the parking lot like a swarm of bees after we were forced back downstairs and pushed far away from the hotel entrance.

  Barnard, Georgia, Seth, Jesse, Beau, Hank, Finn and Lee had gathered around Hank’s truck, watching from afar and trying to comfort each other. It was impossible for me to just stand there. I paced around the parking lot, my head spinning, trying to figure out how in the hell I was going to save Ruby, because I certainly didn’t trust the police to get her out of there alive.

  A huge crowd of guests had gathered outside the hotel after being evacuated, and I walked around the edge of it until I was able to make my way to the very back of the hotel. I searched for the employee entrance and once I found it, I hid behind a corner until the door opened, and two uniformed maids ran out, their eyes full of fear as they ran around the corner. I grabbed the door before it closed and slipped inside.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Ruby

  “I’ve been wanting to see what was under these clothes,” I said, as I unbuttoned Lincoln’s shirt slowly. I could feel his growing erection through his slacks and I pressed myself into it. I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, and it hit the floor behind him.

  He was fit, his toned torso tan and smooth under my hands. His mouth found mine and he kissed me sloppily, his tongue stabbing into my mouth over and over, his lips wet, too wet. I moaned as he reached up and caressed my breast, pinching my nipple through my dress roughly. He started to push the strap of my dress down and I pulled my mouth from his.

  “Let’s go to the couch,” I said softly. “I want to taste you.”

  An arrogant smile spread across his face. “I bet you do,” he said, walking over to the couch quickly, abandoning his gun on the bar.

  He sat on the couch and I pushed him back gently, straddling him and pressing his cock into my center suggestively. He groaned, pushing against me, his hands on my hips, grinding me against his hardness as he began kissing me again.

  I pulled away, trailing kisses down his neck and chest to his taut abs. When I reached his pants, I unbuckled his thin leather belt, and opened his slacks. His black silk boxers greeted me, covering his pulsing cock. I sunk to my knees in front of him, slowly reaching my hand into his waistband and gripping his cock and pulling it out.

  I looked up at him slowly, meeting his gaze and smiling sweetly at him before I lowered my head and opened my mouth as his cock slid past my lips and into my waiting warm mouth. He threw his head back onto the couch, his eyes closing in ecstasy.

  When my teeth bit down, his body stiffened in shock, his screams echoing through the suite in a screeching violent cry that could have peeled the paint from the walls.

  I sprang to my feet, his blood dripping from my chin, and ran to the door, grabbing his gun on my way.

  I opened the door, running blindly down the hallway as fast as my feet would take me, away from his screams, away from my worst nightmare, until I ran right into Crit.

  When I saw him, my knees buckled beneath me. He caught me before I hit the floor, the gun falling from my hand, and all the strength drained from my body as I sobbed in his arms.

  “It’s okay, baby, you’re safe, you’re safe,” he said, his warm arms holding me tightly, lovingly, strongly. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Daddy!” I exclaimed, tears streaming down my face.

  “He’s okay, Ruby, he’s going to be okay,” Crit murmured, holding me close.

  The sound of a gunshot sounded from Lincoln’s suite, both of us jumping out the sound, and turning to look down the hall. Silence greeted us, with no sign of Lincoln.

  I knew it was all over.

  The elevator doors opened and a swarm of police filled the hallway, pushing us to the side.

  Crit’s strong arms surrounded me, protecting me from the herd of cops rushing past. I sank into him, the sobs of relief pushing up from deep inside of me, my body shaking intensely against him as he led me into the stairwell, the heavy door closing behind us, muffling the chaotic sounds of the aftermath of Lincoln’s madness, leaving us in the eerie peaceful brightness of the stark stairwell.

  Crit pulled away, looking at me intently.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked. I shook my head, speechless through my tears. He took off his t-shirt, and began wiping Lincoln’s blood from my face. The taste of his metallic blood mixed with my tears, but I didn’t care.

  I was safe. I was with Crit. And nothing was ever going to keep me away from him again.

  EPILOGUE

  “I think the whole town showed up,” Crit whispered in Ruby’s ear, coming up behind her, the feel of his body so close to hers setting her on fire, just as it always did. Just as it had from the beginning.

  “Sure does,” she replied, grabbing his hands and pulling his enormous arms around her waist. She leaned back into him, watching the crowd of family and friends that had volunteered to help them paint their new home.

  “Look at them,” Crit murmured.

  Beau and Georgia were painting the stairs, stealing knowing glances at each other and giggling to some private joke every few minutes. Around the corner, Finn and Seth were up on ladders, painting the eaves, the white paint dripping into their hair. Jesse had invited his new girlfriend, Hannah, to help, and they were painting a trellis together. Jesse had never looked so happy.

  Lee walked to the back of the house, a bucket and a paintbrush in his hand, looking over his shoulder. Ruby watched as Eva followed closely behind him, and smiled.

  She had never said anything to anyone about seeing Eva at the hotel that day. Whatever Lee and Eva had going, she didn’t care, in fact, it had saved her. If they hadn’t been there that day, there’s no telling what Lincoln might have done to her.

  Ruby’s dad sat relaxing in a chair under a huge pecan tree, a tall glass of cold sweet tea in his hand, and one of the old western novels he had taken up reading in his hand. He looked up from his book, waving at his smiling daughter before going back to it. Lincoln’s bullet had just missed a main artery, and despite his frail condition he was able to come back from it. In fact, his time in the hospital had forced him to get clean, and he had decided he liked being sober after all. Ruby felt like she finally had a father, one that she didn’t have to watch over every second of every day.

  In times of trouble, people always say that things will work out, that everything is going to be okay, but one never really believes it - until it does. That’s how it was for Crit and Ruby. They were on the verge of abandoning all hope, believing that letting go and giving up was the only thing they had left to do in their darkest moments.

  But there’s always that spark, living in all of us, even when we can’t feel it anymore. It’s always there. It’s what makes us human, that perseverance that is so deeply ingrained in each of us, that keeps us going when we think we can’t go on any longer.

  But time and faith always proves us
wrong.

  After Lincoln killed himself in the hotel, there were no more heirs to the LaCroix estate. Since he had been so generous in telling Ruby about the money he had stored off shore, the IRS was able to retrieve it. It was enough to pay off all of his debts, leaving Olly LaCroix’s land and farmhouse in the clear. With Lincoln dead, Barnard Johnson was left as the estate manager and he was free to do as he wished with Olly’s land and affairs.

  He sold the land to Crit for the total sum of one dollar, and forgave the loan on the Hope farm completely. Crit and Ruby decided to renovate the place and move in, expanding Hope Against Hope farms to include LaCroix’s land.

  They’d been holding renovation parties like this every weekend, the townsfolk more than happy to help breathe life back into the historic property. It was working - the place was gorgeous.

  “I can’t wait to move in,” Ruby whispered.

  “Me, too,” Crit said. He pulled his arms away, and walked around in front of Ruby, his baby blue eyes taking her breath away as he lovingly gazed at her. “I love you, Ruby.”

  He lowered his head, his lips gently brushing against hers, fanning the flames inside her with the caress of his hand on her cheek. He pulled away, sinking to his knees in front of her as he pulled a tiny black velvet box from the pocket of his Wranglers and opened it, revealing a sparkling diamond ring.

  He held it out to her, his smoldering blue eyes taking her breath away.

  “I should have done this years ago,” he stated loudly and confidently. “Will you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife, Ruby Rae?”

  Ruby squealed, her bright red curls dancing wildly about her face, her heart soaring with happiness, as everyone began gathering around them.

  “You bet your sweet ass I will, Crit Hope!” she yelled. The sounds of clappin’ and hootin’ and hollerin’ echoed through the tall pine trees that towered over them.

  Crit stood up, slid the ring on her long, slender finger, and then swooped her up in his arms and spun her around joyfully, her red curls flying in the air, her laughter ribboning up to the heavens.

  He kissed her passionately, their hearts filled with love, their future filled with the sweet promise of bliss and the magic of unending hope.

  THE END

  HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL

  BY HONEY PALOMINO

  PROLOGUE

  “When you're at the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on!”

  ― Theodore Roosevelt

  The tires of Lee Haggard’s black pick-up truck strained to grip the wet asphalt, screaming around the curves of the back roads of Sugar Hill, Texas. Moonlight streamed through the soaked pines, their limbs whipping around in a violent, frenzied, midnight waltz.

  Lee’s vision was blurred, not only by the pouring rain, but also by the half bottle of whiskey he had consumed in the last two hours. The other half lay at his side, the bottle bumping against his denim clad thigh like a devoted lover, promising warmth and comfort and a sweet escape from reality.

  At least for a few hours.

  Lee had been in the game long enough to not be fooled by the liquor’s promise of any kind of redeeming future. He’d seen the darkness it brought, even in the light of day when the buzz had faded away. He knew the drinking wasn’t an answer to his problems, but he did it anyway.

  He knew the stream of endless women wasn’t the answer either. No matter, he kept chasing them.

  Truth was, he’d been searching so long for some kind of answer, that all he ever found were more questions. He didn’t know who he was or what he was supposed to do with his life. He had no idea where he belonged. All these years, he’d spent wandering around aimlessly, taking whatever punches life decided to throw at him and hoping he was sober enough to duck in time.

  You win some, you lose some.

  He was used to losing. Hell, he was so used to losing, he forgot what it felt like to win.

  Hope had faded from his fabric years ago. Talking about his feelings was not an option, even if he had someone to talk to. They say hope springs eternal, but whoever said that has never met Lee Haggard.

  Tall, dark, and deadly handsome, just his looks alone could strike a girl breathless. Combined with a flash of those dark brooding eyes, fringed with lashes for miles, not to mention the pure animalistic sex pouring out of them, and a girl would surely be rendered pantyless.

  Shit. He didn’t even have to try anymore. Kind of took the fun out of it for him, but he kept pretending.

  Tonight, he was on edge. Pretending was all he had at this point. A lone wolf on the prowl. Hungry and savage and hurting, he was searching for the only two things that worked to ease the pain, if only for a few moments: a good, strong drunk and the sweet, sultry moans of a pretty filly that would let him sink into her warmth for a little while.

  Like a slithering snake, the truck pulled into the dimly lit parking lot of the Sugar Hill Saloon. Lee turned the key and sat listening to the rain pound the roof of his truck, doing his best to drown out the voices in his head.

  But they wouldn’t stop. His father, his mother, his brother. Eva. His own conscience, doing its damnedest to keep him on the right side of the line. The bottle felt warm as he wrapped his cold fingers around its neck, pulling the heavy glass to his mouth, the fiery gold pouring down the hatch.

  It didn’t go down smoothly. It went down like razor blades, cutting his soul with tiny slivers of pain before it dulled the edges of his brain and the voices finally faded away. He took a deep breath, slugged the bottle again. Repeat. Repeat. Empty.

  He staggered into the saloon like a man on a mission. The liquor hadn’t hit his motor skills yet, and every woman in the place turned her head to watch him swagger in with the confidence of a rodeo star. They couldn’t help but look.

  Most of the women knew exactly what they were looking at, too - Lee Haggard, the sexiest disaster to come out of Sugar Hill. Hell, more than half of them had delved into the full Lee Haggard experience themselves. More than once. But none of them had been stupid enough to fall for him. The ladies in Sugar Hill had learned not to get too tangled up with men like Lee and some of them had learned the hard way.

  The bar was packed with the usual Friday night crowd and Lee elbowed his way to the bar.

  “Whiskey, Jimmy!” Lee barked.

  With a shake of his head, Jimmy the bartender slid a shot of whiskey in front of Lee. He knew better than to refuse Lee. He’d tried that once, and ended up cleaning up a bunch of broken glass and nursing a sore jaw.

  Lee sat at the end of the bar, downed the shot, and demanded another before turning his attention to the crowd. It only took a minute to spot his prey.

  She stood at the opposite end of the polished walnut bar that had stood in the saloon for thirty years. She was alone, pretty, approachable. Definitely fuckable.

  Lee trained his eyes on her, willing her to look his way. It worked immediately. Once he locked her into his gaze, her eyes widened slightly, her breasts swelled, her lips parted. The tip of her tongue slid across her top lip, before her teeth caught the bottom one between them. A slow smile spread across her face and she lifted her chin invitingly.

  Lee’s cock twitched in his tight Wranglers and he nodded slowly, appreciatively.

  The subtle signs of mating in the wild passed between them.

  Abruptly, Lee pulled his eyes away, finding another random woman to admire, a blonde in the corner. Slowly, deliberately, he raked his smoldering eyes across her body. A quick glance back at the brunette at the end of the bar and he saw she was gone. In a flash, she appeared at his side with a smile and Lee laughed to himself.

  His trick always worked.

  A few, quick words of introduction, and a few casual caresses to the arm, the hand, a joke, a laugh, a hair flip, two more drinks, and they’re walking hand in hand out of the bar, leaving Jimmy standing behind the bar and shaking his head once again at Lee’s legendary skills.

  By the time they make it to the truck their hands are wandering
. Sliding over curves made of hips and breasts and biceps, lips opening, closing, sucking, kissing, tongues licking ears, and lips on lips, breath on breath.

  Lee’s troubles drift away, till there is nothing but the sweet numbness of intoxicating flesh on flesh. The woman moans below him, her hungry eyes meeting his in the darkness. She opens her thighs and he slides inside. The rain pounding on the roof of his truck drowns out her moans and he wishes she would moan louder.

  But he doesn’t ask. He never does.

  She tastes like whiskey. She tastes like forgetting. And that’s enough for him.

  As their hunger increases, so does their speed. They find solace in the togetherness, their bodies crashing over the edges of pain and pleasure until the difference between the two fades, and then - Lee finds it - the peace he’d been searching for all night.

  He knows it won’t last. It never does.

  But right now, it’s in his hands. He wraps his strong arms around the filly below him, sinks into her again, and clings onto her and the darkness as tight as he can before the chaos of the dawn drags them both away.

  CHAPTER ONE

  LEE

  “You look like shit,” my brother, Beau, said, as we all sat down around our folk’s dining table, just like we’d been doing all our lives.

  “You ain’t so pretty yourself, little brother,” I growled.

  “I’m just sayin’, you could’ve put on a clean shirt,” he continued, his condescending voice filled with disappointment, “we don’t have a family dinner often these days.”

  He was right. And thank fuckin’ God for that. I’d have said as much, but our Mama brought a huge bowl of mashed potatoes in from the kitchen at just that moment, and I knew it’d break her heart if she overheard me sayin’ how much I hated being here.

  It wasn’t her fault. She was about the only thing I didn’t mind seeing when I returned to the farm. Beau’s self-righteous grin was just the beginning of all the things I wasn’t so fond of. The disappointment that filled my father’s eyes was another.