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From that, Drew decided they both were veritable founts of totally useless information.
So far, the trip from Kentucky to northern Virginia had been both pleasurable and informative. Drew learned things about Hope he might not have had the opportunity to glean otherwise. Like she loved the color turquoise, enjoyed the most eclectic taste in music, and was not a fan of science fiction. At. All.
If they hadn't made this trip together, Drew would never have discovered how the scent of vanilla he'd noticed clinging to the interior of his truck the past few months was all Hope. He didn't know if it was perfume or lotion or something else entirely, but whatever it was, when Drew inhaled, a sense of comfort, familiarity, and peace enveloped him like an old friend.
Just being in her company had the same effect. Looking at her beautiful face. Gazing into her big doe-like brown eyes. Listening to the smoky sound of her voice when she talked. Sitting close enough for their legs or shoulders to brush. Being near Hope made Drew feel more alive.
Energized.
Whole.
As Drew turned between the stone pillars and drove under the Lone Oaks iron arch, he resisted the urge to take hold of Hope's hand. Instead, he continued down the oak-lined drive. An abundance of lights from a host of buildings illuminated the darkness. Centered on about five acres and amidst an outcropping of buildings, barns, and sheds sat a beautiful two-story log and stacked stone farmhouse with a multitude of gleaming windows and a spacious wraparound porch.
"Welcome to Lone Oaks, Hope."
Her eyes nearly swallowed her beautiful face. "It's huge."
Drew stopped the truck in front of a split rail fence encircling the enormous front and back yards. "A family our size needs a lot of space."
"Is this where your parents live?"
"Yeah. Reese's house is about a quarter-mile farther down, and my grandparents’ about a half mile past him." He shut off the engine. "Holden's place is in between, and Jack lives closest to Lake Sheridan."
When Hope smiled, warmth spread through him like sweet honey. "You've got your own Blackwood compound."
"Seems that way sometimes."
Somewhere near the West Virginia-Kentucky border, Hope had braided her hair on either side of her oval face, the banded ends falling just below her shoulders. Except for a swipe of Chapstick frequently applied during the drive, she hadn't bothered with any other makeup. Still, her skin glowed, and her brown eyes sparkled like chocolate diamonds.
Drew had a sudden urge to reach across the console and kiss her. Hard. Instead, he pulled in a deep breath and pushed open his door. If he didn't soon get a grip on his libido, this trip was going to be the longest six weeks of his life. "We'd better head inside before they all descend on us out here."
Hopping out of the truck, Drew made his way around the hood just as Hope closed the passenger door. Hesitating, she began to gnaw on her bottom lip. "It's gonna be okay," Drew reassured her. He draped his arm across her shoulders, pulling her against his side but stopping short of pressing a kiss to her temple. No need to ratchet her anxiety level any higher than it already was.
Especially before they even made it inside the main house.
"That's easy for you to say. They're your family," Hope pointed out as they stepped apart.
"C'mon. The sooner we get inside, the sooner you'll see there's no reason to worry." Drew smiled down at her. "Promise."
They had no more than stepped onto the wraparound porch when both heavy wooden front doors swung open. "It's Uncle Drew and his girlfriend," his nephew, Zach, yelled over his shoulder before turning his bright blue eyes back in their direction. "Hi, Uncle Drew."
Drew ruffled the boy's dark hair. "Hey yourself, Zach."
Not wanting to be left out, the wolf-like dog at the five-year-old's side barked sharply. "Hey there, Sadie," Drew crooned, giving her a brisk rub that turned her arctic eyes into warm pools of pure adoration.
"Are you here all by yourself, Zach?" Drew asked as he led Hope inside.
Awed, Hope stepped onto the gray slate covering the foyer. To her left was a huge great room complete with a vaulted ceiling, exposed wooden beams, and wide-planked hickory floor covered in part by an oblong braided rug in southwestern colors. A fire crackled in the massive stone fireplace situated in front of a grouping of buttery soft leather sofas and recliners draped with what appeared to be handmade afghans and throws.
Immediately, it felt like home.
"Nah. Gram's in the bath—"
"Gram's right here," a feminine voice interrupted as a lovely woman appeared, a smile beaming across her heart-shaped face. "Drew," she sighed happily before pulling him into a welcoming, so-glad-you're-finally-here hug.
A lump lodged itself in Hope's throat when Drew embraced his mother as tightly as she held onto him, her elation at having her son home, where Hope imagined his mother believed he belonged, obvious. Then, easing back slightly, she framed his face with her hands, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him soundly.
Hope’s heart melted completely.
