Chapter Fourteen
Hope paced her bedroom, restlessly wrapping her worn terrycloth robe more tightly around herself. It had been eight days since she and Ben had spent the best night of her life together. Eight days where she’d suddenly become attached to her phone. Eight days where she’d stopped by the tree house, even though the weather had turned cold, looking for a sign of Ben. And…. nothing. Not a peep. No text, no phone call.
Nada.
Sure, she’d seen him, what… three times during the week? Not that she was counting. She wasn’t. There had been two bonfires over at the Sinclaire spread, and Ben had been polite. Sweet, even. But he’d always sat on the other side of the fire and she’d had to content herself with stealing glances at him when she thought no one was looking.
He’d come down
