Love's Battle (True Blue Trilogy) by Angela Hayes Read Free Book Online Page A

Hope in a few days we tag teamed her; deciding dinner and a recap would be a great way to start the weekend.
    “I stand up, object to the marriage. Informing everyone that the groom is cheating on the bride with the maid of honor, who it turns out, is her second cousin, and I high tail it out of there courtesy of Faith. Speeding away into the sunset we leaving the best man standing on the church steps staring after us and Everett there to comfort his future wife.”
    “Talk about a close call.” Faith laughed when all Hope did was sneer.
    “You need a leash.”
    “Hey, it wasn’t like I planned it that way, it just happened. Well, the flat tire part I didn’t plan, everything else…” I struggled to defend myself. “I didn’t have much to work with okay, that maid of honor is a real piece of work. Appealing to her better nature was like trying to eat a bear. Taking it one bite at a time sounds good in theory, but half way through you start to feel sick. And believe me, I learned my lesson. I do not want to run into that groomsman anytime soon.” I shivered a the memory of those black eyes watching me as we sped away, quelling the instant shot of desire that came with thoughts of him.
    “You’ve mentioned that best man a couple of dozen times this evening.” Hope pointed out as she stirred the straw through her milkshake. Her dual colored eyes, a mirror reversal of my mismatched eyes, locked with mine from across the table.
    “Have not.” I denied, pushing my now empty plate away. I’d forgotten that Hope could be just as astute as our older sister and was twice as snobby about it.
    “Have too.” Faith counted efficiently blocking me in.
    “Well, uh, okay. Maybe I’ve mentioned him a few times.” I back tracked, relenting under the power of my sister’s evil eyed glare. “I certainly wouldn’t say it was a dozen.” I grumbled.
    “So, what’s he like?” Hope asked, leaning as close as she could get despite the table separating us. The glimmer of a twinkle in her eyes made her look more like her old self and I was happy for it. She could certainly use more magic in her wounded heart.
    One of our previous lives hadn’t been good to her and it had left its scarring mark. Instead of forgetting it, leaving the past in the past, and starting over like I had, or even acknowledging it and moving on like Faith, Hope embraced her pain in an odd way. Her excuse was that it helped her to better connect with the clients that had yet to find the love of their life and were desperate to. In my opinion, which I’ve voiced more than once, melancholy never looks good on anyone. Period.
    Shrugging I gave into the urge to gush. “He’s tall, over six feet. Dark hair, eyes so
    black you could get lost in them. He reminded me of a caged tiger, wild and restless. Roooarrr!” I laughed, curling my fingers into claws to better make my point. “Broad shoulders. None to happy go lucky at the moment. Italiano!” I added in a whisper, hoping that Hope wouldn’t hear. She had kind of spaced out, her attention snagged halfway through my description by something at the bar behind where I was sitting. My guess, she had spotted a couple that needed matching. “You know, the usual.” I finished.
    “Wait, what?” Hope shook her head as if she hadn’t heard me clearly. “Italian?!.” She groaned, focusing on the one word out the dozen I’d used. “Great, time repeats itself.” She exclaimed flinging her hands into the air. “I suppose he’s an artist.”
    Drama queen much. “I don’t think so. I got more of a white collar impression.” I answered truthfully, my laughter at Hope’s horrified expression barely hidden.
    “Good. That’s good. Acceptable.” Hope blushed, remembering the last time our paths had crossed with a man of Italian blood.
    Twirling my straw in the last half of my milkshake I couldn’t stop myself from nettling her. “Why Hope? Feeling like a walk down memory lane, a little déjà