Always Hope

By Lisa Worrall

Ash Watts has his life exactly how he wants it: burgeoning career, gorgeous boyfriend, and an apartment with a fabulous view of LA. But his perfect world comes crashing down around his ears when he learns of his only sister's untimely death. A small town isn't all he finds when he lands in Freedom, Alabama for Annie's funeral. This small town is brimming with secrets; secrets that could change Ash's life forever.

Kaleb Gibson, honest-to-God cowboy, and native of Freedom, born and bred, found his best friend the moment Annie Watts breezed into town. Her death left a gaping hole in his heart, and while Annie's brother may have her same dark hair and green eyes, Kaleb refuses to lose his heart all over again, and he can’t forgive the man for neglecting his sister when she needed him most.

Revelations from Annie's will throw Kaleb and Ash together in ways they never imagined. Will Kaleb be able to carry out Annie’s last wishes without killing her beloved brother and without revealing a secret from his own past that could destroy everything? And will Ash stick around long enough to see that Freedom may hold an even more perfect life than he could have imagined?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lisa Worrall
• Release date: Jul 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301092192

Lisa Worrall

I live in Leigh on Sea, a small seaside town just outside London on the coast of Essex, about ten minutes from Southend, which boasts the longest pier in the world. I live with my partner and two ever-growing children, who I let think are the boss of me; along with a dog who actually is. As the wonderful Beatrix Potter said, "There is something delicious about writing the first words of a new story. You never quite know where they'll take you." I know exactly what she means and hope you'll join me for the ride.

Book preview

Always Hope

by

Lisa Worrall

Copyright 2012 by Lisa Worrall

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords License Statement 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Trademarks Acknowledgement:

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

American Idol: FremantleMedia North America, Inc.

Avis: Wizard Co, Inc.

Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation

Chevy: General Motors, LLC

Conan: Conan Properties International LLC

Die Hard: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

Diet Coke: Coca-Cola Company

Elmer Fudd: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

Frigidaire: Electrolux Home Products, Inc.

Google: Google, Inc.

Gucci: Gucci America, Inc.Porsche: Dr Ing. H.C.F. Porsche Aktiengesellschaft Company

Jack Daniels: Jack Daniel's Properties, Inc.

Jaws of Life: Hale Products, Inc.

LAX: Los Angeles World Airports

McDonald's: McDonald's Corporation

Nickelback: Nickelback Productions, Inc.

Pulitzer: Columbia University

Rolodex: Berol Corporation

Sleeping Beauty: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

Snoopy: Peanuts Worldwide, Inc.

Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

The Marlboro Man: Phillip Morris USA, Inc.

Tupperware: Dart Industries, Inc.

Walmart: Wal-Mart Stores Inc.

X-box: Microsoft Corporation

Chapter One

Gazing at the stars blanketing the cloudless, moonlit sky, Ash sighed at the tightening of Mason’s arm around his waist when the other man snuggled closer, his breathing unchanging. He envied Mason’s ability to be asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes; sleep had never come easily to Ash. Even as a boy he would spend time listening to the sounds of the night, trying to identify every creak and rustle made by his parents, or his sister—who always got to stay up an extra hour, which he’d been certain was some sort of breach of his constitutional rights as an American—his mind too busy with questions to shut off. Of course, camping by a lake and staring up at the stars through the clear pane in the roof of their tent didn’t help.

The vast magnificence of the sky above them had Ash contemplating how small and insignificant Mason and he really were. Mere ants on the ground compared to the majesty of the heavens. Mason snuffled softly and Ash yawned before trying to change position without disturbing his boyfriend too much. This weekend had been a long time coming— for which they were both to blame, he knew. What with the high profile story he’d been covering and Mason’s abysmal client schedule, they’d been ships passing in the night for over a month. He supposed it was his own fault for dating a divorce lawyer whose majority of celebrity clients fought to the death for every last nickel. The stories Mason told him sometimes made his toes curl, his head shaking in amazement as to why these people married each other in the first place.

Not that his chosen career proved to be any more moral. He’d covered quite a few of those celebrity weddings himself during his internship to the paper. He chuckled softly as he remembered telling himself that he was okay with it, all he needed to do was bide his time until the editor gave him something meatier—and finally his patience and persistence paid off. The Lazarus murder/suicide had been the topic on everyone’s lips during the month-long court case and he’d been right in the middle of the media circus, covering the story for his editor.

Whitney Chase, former child star and Hollywood ‘A’ lister, had supposedly been killed by her husband and Hollywood ‘D’ lister, Colby Lazarus, in an alcohol induced rage before turning the gun on himself. Opinions on the case were varied depending on who you talked to. Colby was a recovering alcoholic whose wife’s career overshadowed his, there must have been drugs involved—and so it went on. The whole fiasco would have been a pretty much open and shut case, but for the tenacity of one woman, Ella Morgenstern, Whitney’s long-time housekeeper and confidant.

She’d insisted there was no way on God’s green earth Colby Lazarus would have killed Whitney Chase and painted a very different picture of the couple. Yes, Colby was fighting his own demons and had a drinking problem. Yes, their relationship could be volatile at times, usually resulting in stony silences for a couple of hours before one of them caved. But she’d been prepared to swear on the Bible the couple adored each other. She swore theirs was a strong and loving relationship, and there had never, ever, been any violence between them in eleven years of marriage.

Ella kicked up such a fuss that the cops re-opened the case and, four months later, Hollywood was still reeling from the announcement that Summer Chase, Whitney’s nineteen year old daughter from a previous relationship, had been arrested for the murder of her mother and stepfather. The case had finally concluded on Wednesday with Summer being found guilty of both murders. Allegedly, while high on drugs, she was stealing some of her mother’s jewelry to fund her habit when her mother and stepfather arrived home early. Shooting her mother, Summer then made it look like her stepfather had taken his own life, before fleeing the scene.

With the verdict settled on Wednesday, Mason and Ash packed the car on Friday and headed out of LA towards the La Jolla Valley hike-in camp for a well-deserved long weekend away. Which is why he lay nestled in a double sleeping bag with Mason, staring up at the stars in the SAMO National Park, waiting for his brain to shut down long enough to fall asleep. They’d spent today hiking and, as Mason said on more than one occasion, becoming one with nature—which Ash preferred to term getting naked and fucking like rabbits surrounded by dense vegetation.

La Jolla was perfect. Their site seemed totally isolated because no other campers were in the immediate vicinity. Which could only be a bonus as far as Ash was concerned. He didn’t want to spend their days waving to passersby; he wanted to spend the weekend wrapped up in each other, far away from the hustle and bustle that had been their lives over the last month or so.

Ash yawned again, lifting his arm and checking the illuminated dial of his watch. He let out a louder than intended sigh when he realized it had only been twenty minutes since he’d last noted the time. Ash grumbled softly to himself—nearly one-thirty in the morning and Mason had been snoring beside him for at least an hour and a half. His body exhausted and more than ready for sleep, Ash cursed his mind for not shutting off.

You’re thinking… I can hear you.

Ash started as the sound of Mason’s rich, deep timbre bounced off the flimsy walls of the tent. "Jesus, Mase. You scared the crap out of me."

Why, were you expecting someone else? Mason teased and snuggled closer, pressing his lips to the back of Ash’s neck.

Very funny, Ash quipped, stroking his finger’s over Mason’s hand where it lay against his stomach. I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to wake you.

S’okay, Mason mumbled moving his hand in a circular motion on Ash’s belly, getting lower with each sweep of his fingers.

Mmm… what’re you doing, Mr Roberts? he said, a low moan coming from deep within his chest when Mason’s palm rubbed across his burgeoning flesh, tracing the mushroom-ridged head teasingly. When Mason’s hand slipped inside the flap in Ash’s thermal underwear, he couldn’t contain the gasp that fell from his lips.

Well… I figured if I helped you relax, you might be able to get some sleep. Do you mind?

"No… fuck… not at all… Ash lifted his arm and reached back to knead the firm muscle of Mason’s ass with fervor as his lover stroked his cock from base to tip, just the way he liked it, swiping a thumb over the head on every pass. Feels good, he moaned, rubbing his ass back against the hardening shaft of Mason’s cock nestled between his cheeks, you feel good."

They set up a fairly coordinated rhythm, with Mason thrusting against Ash and the movement causing Ash to thrust into his boyfriend’s fist, over and over. Ash’s eyes drifted shut as wave after wave of sensation flowed through him, and when Mason bit down on the soft flesh of his shoulder through his thermal vest, Ash cried out as hot reams of white pulsed from him and over Mason’s fingers—fingers that didn’t stop moving until they had milked him of every drop. A couple of thrusts later, before Ash had even had time to catch his breath, Mason followed him and came noisily, his head buried in Ash’s hair as his hips stuttered and he lost all sense of rhythm.

Jesus Christ, Ash, Mason breathed, wiping his hand on the T-shirt he’d worn that day and then dealing with the mess he’d made between them. You continue to blow my fucking mind.

Pleased to be of service, Ash chuckled, grimacing as he scooted back against Mason and tried to ignore the damp spot beneath him, and thank you for the hand. Boneless, weightless, and a few other ‘lesses’ he couldn’t think of right now, but he was sure they existed, Ash closed his eyes. With a contented sigh, he pulled his sleeping bag up higher under his chin and snuggled against the man behind him, feeling the warmth of Mason’s body seeping through his underclothes. Regardless of how little time they actually managed to spend together, the sex was still explosive and satisfying, even if Mason did have some annoying little habits that made Ash clench his teeth, they were good together—and the things that bugged the hell out of you became endearing after a while… right?

Think you can go to sleep now? Mason asked.

I’d answer you, but I’m sleeping, Ash replied, welcoming with open arms the darkness enclosing him in its warm embrace and holding him tight. He vaguely heard Mason’s yawn and a muffled, Good, and thought about answering him, but the words never left his lips.

* * * * *

The following morning, Mason woke Ash up with a very satisfying blow job and then fucked him into next week, before they started to pack up for their journey back to the city. The hike back to the camping station and the car took longer than it should have, because they kept stopping to take even more pictures of the beauty of nature that surrounded them. Ash didn’t think he had ever been in a more beautiful place that filled you with a sense of peace and bliss. He’d been worried when they’d planned the trip, certain he wouldn’t be able to survive without a signal on his cell for four whole days. That being cut off from the comfort of everyday gadgetry he took for granted would drive him completely out of his gourd; but he’d been wrong. He was surprised to actually find himself a little disappointed they were heading back to civilization where he would be bombarded with all the trappings of a twenty-first century life.

Glancing over at Mason, whose thumbs moved over the SatNav as he programmed in their destination, Ash shook his head with a fond smile. He knew that Mason would not be thinking along the same lines—Mason loved his creature comforts far too much. In fact, his lover had been so excited to see the car, Ash had wondered whether he should offer to leave them alone for a while. He leaned back in his seat and stretched before snapping on his seatbelt. The journey back to LA was only supposed to take half an hour, according to Google, but traffic had been abysmal on the way down, so they expected just as much on the way home. But they were in no rush, and planned to stop at a quaint little diner on the way back. They’d spotted the place on the drive down, where a big sign had professed, the best burgers in the state, so Ash was looking forward to the slow journey home before they returned to their manic schedules tomorrow. Pushing his sunglasses onto his nose, Ash entangled his fingers with the ones Mason placed on his thigh and sat back with a sigh.

* * * * *

The clock on the dashboard indicated it was almost four and the California sun was high in the sky when Mason pulled into the underground parking lot of Ash’s condo. Their arms full of backpacks and camping paraphernalia, the two men rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor and then walked down the hall to Ash’s apartment. Inside, they dumped everything in the hall and Ash headed to the kitchen in search of beer before they attempted anything else. Mason had already made himself comfortable on the sofa, his legs over the arm as he flicked through his blackberry and checked the myriad of messages, from clients and colleagues alike, he’d received while they’d been away.

Here you go, hot stuff, Ash drawled, flopping down on the cushion Mason wasn’t occupying and let his fingers drift through the soft strands of Mason’s strawberry blond hair. Jesus, couldn’t those rich bitches survive without you? he asked, noting the number of messages his boyfriend still scrolled through.

You said it yourself, Mason grinned, tilting his head to look at Ash, hot stuff, in demand.

Oh, right. Ash shook his head and said sarcastically, Must be such a curse.

I’m glad to see you’re noticing all the sacrifices I make, Mason countered, then swore loudly. Listen to this. Marianne Wheatley, you know she’s on that long running soap thing, I don’t even remember what it’s called, piece of crap is so dire—anyway, she needs me to call desperately because her ex took the dog for the weekend as per their agreement and he failed to return him. Fucking thing’s a cocker-poo for God’s sake, not a kid. Tossing his blackberry onto the soft carpet, he shifted so that his head rested on Ash’s lap. Remind me why I deal with these people?

Ash smoothed his fingers over the frown Mason was now sporting and smiled softly. Because they pay you ridiculous amounts of money so that you can keep me in a manner I am totally unaccustomed to, he said without missing a beat, leaning down to capture his lover’s lips.

Oh yeah, Mason replied, I knew there was a good reason.

Ash kissed him again and sighed into the kiss as Mason’s tongue teased along the seam of his lips, and Ash gladly opened to him, licking his way into Mason’s mouth, chasing his tongue back into its dark cavern. He slid a hand beneath the hem of the other man’s T-shirt and his gut tightened at the low growl coming from Mason’s throat. Sliding his hand higher, his fingers found the flat disc of Mason’s nipple and pinched the sensitive flesh between a thumb and forefinger.

Jesus—

He didn’t find out what else Mason had planned to say, because of the loud banging at the front door. "Come on, Ash complained with a whine. We’re still on vacation until tomorrow, for crying out loud."

With a rueful smile, Mason pressed a quick kiss to Ash’s lips and pushed himself up, I’ll go, you stay there and look as sexy as hell.

A few moments later, the front door closed and Mason’s bare feet slapped on the wooden flooring of the hallway as he returned to the living-room. Ash waited with his eyes closed and his head tipped back on the sofa cushion, a smile playing around his mouth. Come on, hot stuff. I’m waiting, he said in a parody of a come hither tone.

Ash.

The way Mason said his name gave Ash the immediate feeling that he shouldn’t open his eyes. Every fiber of his being told him not to move. Whatever had caused Mason to sound like that couldn’t be good.

Ashdon Watts?

Ash didn’t recognize the second voice and he forced his eyes open, a fist tightening around his heart as he gazed up into the far too sympathetic gaze of an LA cop. He swallowed past the lump in his throat which may well have been his heart, he wasn’t sure. Ash nodded, unable to vocalize a response—this is bad, this is very bad. The way Mason sank onto the cushion beside him and gripped his hand tightly, wasn’t helping.

I’m sorry, Mr Watts. I have some difficult news. There’s been an accident.

Chapter Two

You know I’d come with you if I could, Mason said for the hundredth time as he wrapped his arms around Ash, drawing him close and pressing his lips against the dark waves of Ash’s black hair.

Yes, Ash replied, annoyed that, in the midst of this clusterfuck, Mason sought his understanding to make himself feel better. At this point in time, he couldn’t care less about the other man’s feelings; lost in his own misery.

What with the Marianne Wheatley thing and not to mention Ronald Kline breathing down my neck—

Mase, I said it’s okay, you don’t have to go over it again, it’s fine, Ash glanced over Mason’s shoulder at the departure board and tried to ignore the anger roiling in his gut because, to be honest, it wasn’t okay—any of it.

Three days ago he’d been cocooned in a sleeping bag, in Mason’s arms, and now he stood at the security check-in at LAX about to board a flight to Mobile, Alabama. Then he had to hire a car and drive to the ass-end of nowhere. Of course, the locals preferred to call their home town Freedom, all 1872 of them. Not that he gave a shit about their feelings either, not when the purpose of his journey was to bury the only person in this world he truly loved, and who loved him—his sister, Annie.

Ash wanted to be charitable, but it was difficult. He hadn’t had a great deal of experience in relationships, but he’d assumed that when you were committed to someone, weddings and funerals were two occasions you could pretty much rely on having a date. Apparently for Mason, the ruling only applied if he could get there and back in a lunch hour. Sitting on a plane for almost six hours, some of which would be on the tarmac in Houston, definitely didn’t fit in with his boyfriend’s hectic schedule.

Glancing over Mason’s shoulder at the clock on the wall behind him, Ash extricated himself from Mason’s arms, I’ve gotta go, I’m going to miss my flight. I’ll call you when I land, he added, turning his head at the last minute as Mason kissed him, bypassing his lips and brushing his cheek instead. In the dim recess of his mind he guessed he should have felt bad, but he was hell bent on getting his body on the plane before he ran screaming from the airport like he wanted to. He ignored the hurt expression on Mason’s face because he had nothing left to give in the sympathy stakes and strode towards the security checkpoint to take his place in line. He’d look back when the security guard returned his boarding pass and drivers licence, he told himself— but when the items were placed in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to. Mason represented reality and if he had any hope of getting through this,