This Much is True - Tia Louise Page 0,10

that.” He hands it over, and Hope puts her hand on the back of the seat, resting her chin on top.

I’m acutely aware of her proximity to my shoulder. Her head tilts to the side, and she looks at my brother. “I like your name. Scout. Where does it come from?”

“Our mom was a librarian.” He offers her a water, but she shakes her head. “She named us after her favorite books and authors.”

“Scout… from To Kill A Mockingbird?” Her head lifts.

“Yep. Bradley after Boo Radley, and Scout. Bradley Scout Dunne.”

“That’s fun!” She glances at me carefully. “And John…”

“John Steinbeck and Phillip Roth,” Scout answers for me.

“John Roth. JR.” This time when my eyes met hers, she smiles shyly.

Jesus. It’s worse than her fearful looks. Her shy smile is a hit below the belt. Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I look out the window. No chance of leaving her in the middle of the Mojave Desert.

“I like your name.” I can’t tell if Scout is flirting or just being his usual friendly self—not that there’s a difference. “Hope… It suits you. Is that all there is?”

Her laugh is embarrassed, and she shakes her head. “Hope Eternal Hill.”

“Hope Eternal?” My brother’s voice goes loud, and I fight a grin. It does suit her. “Let me guess. Old-school California hippies.”

She nods, pressing her lips together as her cheeks flush pinker. “We lived in a commune with five other families. We raised all our own food, made our own clothes. We all home-schooled together…”

“Damn.” Scout looks at me. “You lived your whole life like that? But what about this car?”

“I didn’t live my whole life like that. My dad’s family had money. I guess that’s why he had the luxury of walking away. My mom’s family did not have money, so she wasn’t as excited about living like a pauper. She did it for ten years, then she walked away from us.”

An unexpected edge enters her voice, and my eyes cut to hers in the mirror. All the fear and shyness have disappeared.

“I’m sorry.” Scout is quiet.

“Not your fault.” She forces a smile, but their conversation stalls.

We’re just crossing the Colorado River, and I notice a gas station off the interstate.

Checking the mirror, I see Hope gazing out at the desert. Her smile is gone, and I recognize the emotion in her eyes—betrayal, anger, unresolved hurt. She tipped her hand a bit, and it’s possible we have more in common than I thought.

“Your turn to drive.” I point at my brother as I pull the Impala to a gas pump. Looking at Hope, I nod at her feet. “You need shoes.”

“If they just have a cheap pair of flip flops—” She looks around the backseat then appears flustered.

I frown. “What?”

“I-I don’t have my wallet… I don’t have any money.”

Or a driver’s license, I mentally note. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll spot you five bucks for a pair of flip flops.”

“I’ll pay you back!” It’s a little chirp I wave away.

“What size?”

“Medium… Seven if it matters.”

I grab a paper mask at the door and slip it over my face. The gas station is crammed with western-themed gifts and souvenirs, and I push through the aisles of fake succulents, beer holders, t-shirts reading Chuckwalla Valley Raceway, and Arizona sweatshirts searching for shoes… Seriously, who needs a sweatshirt in Arizona?

Flip flops are not on the menu, but I do find a stash of discount cowboy boots I kind of like. Digging through the pile, I grab the only women’s Size 7, and pay the man from my cash.

Scout is in the restroom when I walk back to the car, carrying the drinks and boots. I slip the mask in my pocket, and Hope’s eyes widen as she looks up at what I’m holding.

“What the… You got me cowboy boots?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

She pulls the white ankle boots out of the bag, and her voice goes high. “They’re so cute!”

Slipping them on her bare feet, she steps out of the car. They stop just below her calves, and they actually go with what she’s wearing.

I feel an unwelcome surge of pride, and my dick reminds me it’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve been near an attractive woman, or any woman for that matter.

Her eyes shine, and she turns side to side. “I can’t keep these… I can’t afford to pay you back.”

“They were twenty bucks. The guy had them shoved in a corner marked clearance.”

Her pink lips part, and she