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Justine huffed out a furious breath. "Fine then. You do what you do and go buy her some G.o.dd.a.m.n f.u.c.king flowers." After giving him a second, harder rap, Justine turned on her heel and marched inside.
Wincing, Ryder rubbed his chest, pulled out his phone to call the local florist.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JUSTINE CONSIDERED GETTING THE SPARE KEY TO THE innkeeper's apartment, but thought Hope's privacy had been compromised enough for one day. Instead she climbed up to the third floor, her mind brewing dark thoughts about foolish women who blamed other people for a bad marriage, and men who couldn't strap on the b.a.l.l.s to deal with tears.
She raised her hand to knock on Hope's apartment door. And it opened, quickly, smoothly.
Hope instantly sprang up from where she sat weeping on the couch.
"I didn't open it." Justine lifted her hands to show them empty. "Someone's looking out for you."
"I just need a few minutes to settle down."
"What you need is a shoulder, and if it weren't so early in the day, a good three fingers of whiskey. We'll settle for the shoulder and the tea I'm going to make-in a minute."
She walked straight over, put her arms around Hope, and pulled her in tight.
"Oh G.o.d. G.o.d!" Hope managed, helpless against the unquestioning support. "It was horrible."
Soothing, soothing, Justine rocked a little from side to side. "Well, on a scale of one to ten, one being a paper cut and ten being, say, slicing your hand off with a machete, it only ranked about three. But that's bad enough."
"I'm so-"
"Don't you apologize to me again for someone else's bad behavior." Though her voice was stern and brisk, Justine rubbed a comforting hand up and down Hope's back.
"I wasn't with Jonathan because of my career. And Ryder... Please don't think that."
"Let's sit down here while I explain to you why those are unnecessary things to say to me. Honey ..." Justine's lips tightened when she studied the red streak still marring Hope's cheek. "Let me get that ice for you first."
"It's all right." Instinctively Hope lifted a hand to the dull but steady throbbing. "I'm all right."
"Caught you right on the cheekbone. You've got such good ones, but it makes an easy target. Now, you sit."
Justine walked into the little kitchen, poked in the freezer. "No frozen peas. I always kept frozen peas when the boys were around-still do. G.o.d knows they're always banging themselves up." She found baggies, filled one with ice. "This'll do. You hold that on your cheek for a few minutes," she ordered and pa.s.sed the makeshift ice pack to Hope.
"Where was I?"
"Justine-"
"Oh, that's right. You and that worthless p.r.i.c.k Jonathan d.i.c.kham."
The deliberate misp.r.o.nunciation surprised a half laugh out of Hope.
"Every woman's ent.i.tled to a mistake. I had my own worthless p.r.i.c.k when I was sixteen and crazy about Mike Truman. He cheated on me with a majorette with big b.o.o.bs. He's been divorced twice, and is looking like he's heading into his third. Goes to show you."
She babbled, they both knew, to give Hope time to settle.
"What happened to the majorette?" Hope asked her.
"She got fat. It's petty of me to be smug and superior about that, but every woman's ent.i.tled to a little petty here and there."
Hope couldn't defeat the sigh-part upset, part humor. "Oh, Justine."
"Sweetheart, you just put your faith and your emotions into the wrong hands, and he didn't respect either. Apparently he's not respecting his wife's, but that shouldn't be your problem. That stupid woman-with fabulous shoes and desperate eyes-wants to make it your problem so she can blame you for the obvious fact that her husband's now her worthless p.r.i.c.k."
"I know it. I know it, but, Justine, it's such an awful ugly mess."
"Hers, not yours. You could have told her he'd come here and proposed you and he have an affair."
"I didn't see the point. She wouldn't have believed me."
"Oh, some part of her would have. Some part of her already knows how it stands." As she spoke, Justine rose, found tissues. When she sat again, she dabbed at Hope's cheeks herself.
"p.i.s.ses her off, embarra.s.ses her. So she embarra.s.sed you. That's the part I'm sorry about. As for Ryder, why would I think you're with him for some kind of career advantage? You're already the innkeeper, and I don't plan on opening a chain of them. Added to that, Ry has his flaws, G.o.d knows, but he's a good man. He's a pleasure to look at, and I expect he knows what to do and how to do it, and well, in bed."
"Oh G.o.d."
"That embarra.s.ses you, but, sweetie, if you and Ry aren't having a h.e.l.l of a good time in bed at this point in your relationship, that would be a d.a.m.n shame. That aside, you've got integrity and pride. If you didn't, you'd be with the worthless p.r.i.c.k when he snuck out on that stupid woman, and use s.e.x as a lever to get what you wanted out of him."
"Why won't they just stay away from me? I've left them alone."
"You're going to be a hook in her craw as long as she's with him. Which I predict won't be more than a year-two at the outside. And you're always going to be one in his. You walked away," Justine said simply. "He'll never understand that, and never comprehend he has himself to blame. I don't think either of them will be back or bother you again. But if they do, I want to know about it. I want you to tell me. That's not negotiable."
"All right."
"Here, let me see that now." Justine took the ice bag, gave Hope's cheek a study. "That ought to do it."
"It's fine. Really. It was just such a shock. And I just stood there. You'd have slapped her back."
"Oh, honey, I'd have knocked her on her skinny a.s.s. But that's me. You're made different. I'm going to make that tea now."
"Thank you."
"Part of the package." Back in the kitchen she put the kettle on, poked around until she found Hope's collection of tea. She chose jasmine, a personal favorite.
"Now I'm going to apologize."
"You?" Hope swiped at a few lingering tears. "Why?"
"For my son. He should have been the one to come up here, give you a shoulder, listen, lecture, and make you tea."