Bridge of Hope Read online

  BRIDGE OF HOPE

  by Lisa J. Hobman

  This is a fictional work. The names, characters, incidents, places, and locations are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real.

  5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC

  PO Box 16507

  Denver, CO 80216

  www.5PrinceBooks.com

  ISBN: 13:978-1-63112-062-6 ISBN: 10:163112062X

  Bridge of Hope

  Lisa J. Hobman

  Copyright Lisa J. Hobman 2014

  Published by 5 Prince Publishing

  Front Cover Viola Estrella

  Author Photo: [email protected]

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles. For any other permission please contact 5 Prince Publishing and Books, LLC.

  First Edition/First Printing August 2014Printed U.S.A.

  5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC.

  Acknowledgements:

  To Rich, Grace, Mum and Dad thank you as always for being so wonderful.

  Much love to my fabulous family and friends, for your continued encouragement and support.

  To my bestie, Claire. Still love you squillions.

  A huge shout out to The Happy Hobman Dancers Street Team—the best crew an author could wish for and to Shona my wonderful friend (first and foremost), PA and admin for keeping my page and my brain organized and keeping me pretty sane.

  To Viola for the wonderful cover—you never cease to amaze me.

  To all the blogs that support me and share my news so willingly. I am eternally grateful. There are so many and I would need a whole book to list them all but here are a few... Books, Coffee and Wine, Two Ordinary Girls and Their Books, Luscious Literature, Sneaky Reading, Fallen For Books, Magic Within the Pages, Elle’s Book Blog, Island Lovelies Book Club,Tracey’s Vampy and Racey Bookblog and also Gin’s Book Notes for the wonderful trailers and teaser pics—to name only a small selection. Please know that if your name is not here it’s not because I don’t appreciate you. It’s more to do with my shed head!

  Thanks once again to the wonderful team at 5 Prince Publishing, my fabulous editor Susan who was great fun to work with and Marie who puts up with my rambling emails.

  Dedication:

  To my readers,

  I began writing this book following the response I received to a short blog post that I had written from Greg’s POV. The number of requests for me to write the whole book was overwhelming. It was wonderful to know that people had fallen for Greg so much in Bridge Over the Atlantic that they wanted to know more about him and so I willingly obliged. It made me so very happy to write this story as it meant I got to spend more time in Greg’s head. I think it’s become one of my favourite places!

  I have the best, most supportive readers and love that so many of you have been with me since before Bridge Over the Atlantic was even published. You’ve been there, reading snippets and giving me feedback and encouragement every step of the way and I appreciate each and every one of you. In all honesty I can tell you that it felt amazing to be asked to write this story and I can only hope that you love Greg even more when you’ve taken this journey with him; my potty-mouthed Scotsman.

  So with a song in my heart readers, this one’s for you <3

  Lisa

  Prologue

  I watched her falling… down… down… down. I was helpless. I could do nothing, say nothing. The woman I loved more than anything in the world was falling to her death and all I could do was stand there…

  ~~~

  I sat bolt upright and my eyes sprang open and my chest heaved, desperately trying to pull air into lungs that burned. As usual I was soaked in sweat and my legs were tangled in the sheets whilst the rest of my body shook violently, thanks to the images racing through my mind all too clearly…

  Chapter One

  January 2011

  It had been the same damned nightmare again.

  I’d been experiencing what the doctor called night terrors ever since receiving the news that Mairi had been declared dead. The love of my fucking life… dead. There were no words to describe the physical pain knotting my insides every time I realised it was true and not just a cruel dream.

  There had been no body to bury. But apparently that’s not uncommon when people are lost up the side of a mountain like K2. People can lie undiscovered for years up there, so I’m told.

  Sobering thought.

  The stupid thing was that I wasn’t even there when it happened, but for some bizarre reason my psyche had built up its own series of events and insisted on torturing me with the movie of Mairi’s death every time I closed my eyes.

  What I wouldn’t give for a peaceful night’s sleep.

  I’d taken on extra work whenever I wasn’t on the water. The boat was only a seasonal thing anyway. And although tourists loved the area surrounding the bridge over the Atlantic, taking a trip out on Little Blue on choppy water wasn’t for fainthearted, unseasoned sailors. So I’d taken on work as a handyman. I was fixing taps, sealing sinks, unblocking drains. Oddly, all the jobs seemed to be water related. Maybe that was because I had a combination of water and single malt running through ma veins. Who knows?

  Keeping busy was my intention. Being occupied was the only thing stopping me from slipping into a deep depression, and I knew all too well how easy it would’ve been just to let go and fall into the abyss like Mairi did in my nightmares.

  I’d met her when I was out walking. I’d pretty much given up hope of ever falling in love for real. I’d had a shot at it before—Alice was her name, but the less said about her right now the better. But life likes to throw in curveballs every so often. And so there I was up by the Buckle, taking in the scenery and fresh air, when this fiery-haired girl tripped over her laces and into my arms. She had the most stunning smile I’d ever seen. And her eyes… Let’s just say when she gazed up at me she melted my heart. We chatted for ages and it was just… so natural.

  I was never going to be the same again.

  Our relationship progressed quickly and was very physical. I was a fair few years older than her but I had no trouble keeping up, if you know what I mean. I loved every inch of her body with a passion I’d never experienced before. It was raw and real. I’d sit watching her as she studied maps and reference books about climbing. Every so often she’d glance up and catch me staring and she’d just smile, climb into my lap, and kiss me.

  After Alice and I split—I won’t bore you with the details just yet, let’s just say that she was a nasty piece of work who messed with my head and broke my heart, more than once—I swore off love and all it entailed. I didn’t need a woman in my life. Or so I thought. But when I lost Mairi, it was like someone had ripped out ma heart and stamped on it whilst I watched. The pain was excruciating.

  Physical, gut-twisting pain.

  I felt sure they’d gotten it wrong. She went to K2 with experienced climbers. She was an experienced mountaineer too. It’d been her dream for so long. I wasn’t about to stand in her way, and the thought that she may not come back never even entered my head.

  Not being able to say goodbye was the worst thing. The small memorial service we held was devoid of emotion. It was as if her friends and family were in some kind of denial.

  I think I was too.

  Thinking back to the morning she left for the trip broke my heart, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  June 2010

  Her long, titian curls fanned out on the pillow beside me and she smiled as she slept. She was exposed to me from the waist up and I lay there on my s
ide, willing her to awaken. I wasn’t going to see her for months and I wanted to get my fill whilst I still could. I gently stroked her chin, down between her creamy bare breasts to her navel. It was cruel but I wanted her to open her eyes. Instead she whacked my hand away and muttered expletives. I burst out laughing, trying my best to do it quietly but failing miserably.

  She picked up one of the spare pillows and hit me on the head with it, making me chuckle again. “Gregory McBradden, you’re a total shit. I was having a really sexy dream,” she whined, eyes still closed.

  I leaned in. With my mouth next to her ear, I whispered, “Open your eyes and let’s make your dream come true, love.” That got her every time. Goose bumps pricked her skin and she moaned. Her eyes sprang open and she pounced on me, pushing me onto my back and straddling my waist.

  God, she was so beautiful.

  I gazed up at her. Her pert breasts begging for my touch. I was already hard, but seeing her like this did something to my insides and brought out the animalistic side of me. I gripped her hips as I inhaled a deep breath, trying my best to calm the furnace raging beneath my skin. As she bent to take my mouth in a deep, sensual kiss, her hair cascaded to my chest. Our tongues slipped and slid together in an erotic dance, and every nerve in my body sprang to life just for her. Every fibre of my being was drawn to her; needed her.

  I swept the hair back from her face and fixed my eyes on hers.

  “Do you know how much I love you, Mairi? Do you know how much I’m going to miss you when you’re gone? It doesn’t matter how far apart we are. You’re still in here,” I said, touching my head. “And in here.” I touched my chest over my heart. She stared silently at me for a moment and then closed her eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek and I caught it with my thumb. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  She inhaled deeply. “Nothing. I’m just… really nervous about the whole trip. K2 has been my dream for so long, but now… I’m terrified. What if I’m not fit enough? What if I can’t do it, Greg?”

  I slid my calloused hands up her smooth, taut thighs where they gripped me, to the dip between her hip and waist as my eyes followed the journey of my fingers. I swallowed hard at the feel of her muscles tightening under my caress, and my breath caught in my throat as I replied, “Come on, love, you are fit enough and strong enough. You’ve been working towards this for so long, how could you not be? You’re bound to be nervous. But you’re fulfilling a dream, and there’s not many folk can say they’ve done that. You’ll be fine. Absolutely fine. But I might not be.” I stuck out my bottom lip, trying to lighten the mood. “My heart might break into a million pieces when I’m left here by mysel’. What will I do?”

  She bent and kissed my nose. And then with a sexy smile, she smoothed her hands down my chest and it was my turn to shiver.

  “You’ll have to dream of me naked on top of you like this, and that’ll cheer you up.” She rolled her hips, making me bite my lip.

  I inhaled deeply. “Aye, I suppose it will. But having you back here again so I can do this again…” In one sweep of my arms I had her beneath me, my body between her silky thighs. I sank into her, pleasure radiating from where we were joined. “… is what I’ll be looking forward to.”

  A breathy moan escaped through her full lips. She closed her eyes as she welcomed me in and slipped her arms around my neck. I kissed her everywhere I could reach, taking each nipple into my mouth slowly and nibbling on the little buds as they tightened. Gasping, she fixed her eyes on mine as I moved deep within her.

  Overwhelming emotions ripped through me as I made love to her. My Mairi. I took in every sensation and every look; my heart aching at the thought of being apart from her for so long. As she pulsed around me and her orgasm took her soaring off into the stratosphere, I kept my gaze locked on hers, hoping I was conveying everything through my eyes that I couldn’t put into words, and I followed soon after.

  Afterwards, we lay there in each other’s arms for what felt like hours. I was unwilling to let her go, telling myself I’d hold her for a few minutes more. When she eventually withdrew from my embrace, I lay back and fought the fears niggling deep within me.

  Stupid fears.

  What if she meets someone who’s more her age? What if she meets someone who loves climbing the way she does? What if she doesn’t miss me as much as I miss her? What if she loves it so much out there that she decides to stay? What if? What if? What fucking if?

  A couple of hours later we set off to the airport, and for the first part of the journey we both sat in silent contemplation. There were so many things I wanted to say, but the words never came and I cursed myself for being so fucking useless at expressing myself.

  Luckily, she knew what I was like. I’d spent the day before looking for songs to express how I felt and I’d made a CD. The silence in the car was deafening and so I reached over and hit play. I made eye contact with her for a few moments as the opening chords to “I Will Remember You” by Ryan Cabrera filled the small space between us. Turning my eyes back to the road, I saw her in my peripheral vision, wiping her eyes as her lip trembled.

  At the airport I pulled her into my arms and held her against my chest. I knew she must have felt the rapid pounding of my heart as we stood inside the terminal. Tears threatened. My eyes were desperate to give them up, but I tried so hard not to make the situation more difficult than it already was. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pulled away and gazed into her emerald eyes one last time.

  My voice wavered as I told her, “I’m not going to say goodbye because I hate that word and we’ll be back together before you know it anyway. So I’m going to say have a great time and stay safe. And know that I’ll be thinking of you every moment whilst you’re gone.”

  Pulling me toward her, she kissed me with a ferocity that took my breath away. I fisted my hands in her hair and returned the kiss with equal passion. When I eventually pulled away, I cupped her face in my hands and stroked the apples of her cheeks with my thumbs. “It’s just a few months, love. Go and show ’em what you’re made of, eh?”

  She nodded and gripped my hands where they lay on her skin. Relentless tears spilled from her eyes as she let go and turned to walk away. All my fears bubbled to the surface once again and I couldn’t hold back. “I love you, Mairi. And one day I want to marry you!” I shouted.

  As soon as the words left my mouth I clamped it shut.

  Fuckfuckfuckfuck!

  We’d never discussed marriage before. But I have a tendency to say what’s on my mind without thinking about the consequences, and this was one of those times. I was filled with dread. Had I just given her a ticket to Get-Out-Ville? Again, fuck! My heart hammered like it was trying to do a fucking runner and my mouth went dry.

  The people around us stopped and stared.

  Mairi halted in her tracks and I froze. She turned to face me, her mouth open in what I can only describe as utter, mind-frying shock. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to find something to say to take the words back. But a beautiful smile appeared on her face. She ran toward me and flung her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist. Everyone around us applauded as I hugged her into my body before letting her go and setting her down again. With one last heart-melting smile she stroked my cheek, turned, and walked away.

  Chapter Two

  January 2011

  I untangled myself from the sheets and stumbled into the bathroom. I hardly recognised the gaunt man staring back at me. The dark circles around my eyes aged me beyond my thirty-seven years.

  I turned the shower on and let it run until I was enveloped in a steamy cocoon. Once under the water I closed my eyes and tried to blank out thoughts of Mairi and the times we’d made love in the very same place. As the water tumbled down my tired muscles, I ran through the list of jobs I had planned for the day.

  After climbing out of the shower, I dried, dressed, and then called to Angus. The yellow Labrador crossbreed came bounding up to me, and we set out for our morning walk. The air was chil
led and my breath vaporised as soon as it left my body, forcing me to pull my zip up as far as it’d go.

  Ron, from up the road, was walking toward me, his newspaper tucked under his arm. “Hello there, Gregory. Have you heard the news?”

  I stopped in my tracks and waited to hear the latest gossip from the village know-it-all. “What news would that be?”

  “James McLaughlan’s old place has sold.”

  “Really? He will be pleased. Any idea who bought it?”

  He scowled and shook his head. “Therein lies the issue, Gregory. Apparently it’s some young executive couple who are using it as a weekend and holiday home.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, great. This place’ll have no bloody locals left at this rate.”

  “That’s exactly what I said. The last thing we need is more damned weekend interlopers who don’t contribute to the village.”

  “Well, Ron. Not a lot we can do about it really, I suppose. Did you see them?”

  “I caught a wee glimpse last week when they were here with the estate agent. He looked all businesslike and she was… well… she was a bonny lass, actually. Lovely long hair and very smiley.” He shook his head as if trying to remind himself how pissed off he was. “Anyway, I’m not happy.”

  I huffed out a breath. “Well, let’s just hope they at least spend some of their executive pay-cheque money in the pub when they’re here on weekends, eh?”

  “Aye, we can hope, young man. We can hope.” He went on his way back home and I smiled to myself and continued walking my dog.

  Young man. When you get to thirty-seven you don’t think of yourself as particularly young anymore; but I supposed to someone Ron’s age, however old that might’ve been, I still was.

  James McLaughlan was a nice old guy. He’d moved farther north to be with his family, and he’d been heartbroken when he left the wee cottage down by the bridge. Angus and I stopped at the centre of the arched stone structure, and I glanced over to James’s old place. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, getting new blood into the village.