Free Restoring Hope by C. P. Smith

brick walls, hand-honed wood floors, and top of the line appliances in stainless steel that went well with the marbled black counter tops. There was a couch in the living room, a TV, a coffee table and an end table, and a single bed in one of the bedrooms. He didn’t say much about where he’d gotten the furnishings, just that he’d had the extra furniture in storage and moved it in for her.
    What she was trying to wrap her head around was the why of it. Why would Nic go to this much trouble for a stranger? Rose, Abby, Nic, even Big Daddy, all seemed to be concerned about her. Her first reaction was to be suspicious of them. She’d grown up in foster care and then married a man who thought communication began and ended with a fist. She’d never really had anyone care what happened to her, and she didn’t know how to feel about it. She knew there were good people in the world, the kind that would help a friend or neighbor. She supposed she’d just been lucky and stumbled upon a group of people who looked out for someone in need and she felt guilty. The problem was, she felt like she was using them. What little she knew of Nic and Rose, even Abby and Big Daddy, they were good people, all of them, and the crux of the matter was, she didn’t deserve their loyalty.
    Panic welled up in her, and she started pacing again. If she were any kind of friend, any kind of decent person, she’d leave right now, but for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to do it. You’re tired of running Hope, and you know it. Just a few more weeks, enough to save up some money , she thought. Maybe God would let her stay a few more weeks.
    With nothing else to do, and no energy to do it, she decided to take a bath in one of the exceptionally clean, thank you, God, bathrooms. The master bedroom had a walk-in shower and a big antique tub and the thought of sinking deep into warm water and falling asleep sounded like heaven. Entering the bathroom, she found shampoo, conditioner and bubble bath on the shelf of the stonewalled bathtub. Nic had done the tub surround in slate with small river rocks running through a third of the way down around the three walls as a border. The darkness of the rock set off the bright white tub as the focal point, and the antique faucets and claw feet on the tub mixed the old and the new seamlessly together.
    There were towels on a warming rack just to the side of the bathtub and Hope let out a breath. She’d forgotten to pack her towels when Nic had rushed her to get her stuff. Leaning in and lowering the tub stopper to fill it with water, she then turned on the faucet, poured bubble bath into the streaming water, and the smell of jasmine filled the air as she stripped out of her clothes. Pulling her hair out of its ponytail, she remembered her brush was in her purse and her purse was on the counter in the kitchen. Grabbing one of the warm towels, she wrapped it around her body and headed down the hall. As she reached her purse, she heard a key in the front door and whipped around just as Nic entered the condo, bags in hand.
    Hope froze in place, as Nic took in the sight of long blonde hair, shapely legs that looked smooth as silk, and a towel that barely covered Hope’s more than generous breasts. Neither said anything, just stood there staring at each other like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Hope watched as Nic scanned her body, his eyes growing darker, hungrier. He took a step towards her, and she came out of her frozen state squeaking out “I’m so sorry. I was taking a bath,” as she ran back down the hallway disappearing into the master bedroom.
    Nic stood there for a long moment, his breath coming in deep and hard trying to force down his reaction. It had been too fucking long since he’d had a woman and seeing Hope standing there like that lit a fire in him.
    Moving to the kitchen and unpacking the food he’d brought her, he pulled out the coffee pot and went to work making a pot all while the