by Sherry Lewis
Eve’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why would I object?”
“Well, I don’t know. I guess you wouldn’t.” He grinned and slipped his hand from Molly’s arm to her back and urged her to start walking—which she did in spite of the stunned expression on her face. “My best to Cal,” he called over his shoulder as they walked away.
“Why did you do that?” Molly asked when they’d put a few feet behind them.
“Do what?”
“You know what. Why did you leave her with the impression that you and I were an item?”
“Do you mind?”
She blushed. He could see it even in the dim light spilling onto the sidewalk from the small businesses they passed. “That’s not the point, Beau. You deliberately misled her, and now there’s going to be talk.”
He stopped walking and took her by the shoulders, pulling her gently around to face him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t care if there’s talk, but it obviously bothers you.”
Her eyes shuttered. “I don’t think you and I are the issue here, do you? I can survive the talk. I won’t be around. But what about Brianne and Nicky?”
Her question brought about the strangest reaction. On the one hand, Beau knew she was right. He’d let his irritation with Eve get the best of him. On the other, Molly’s worry about Brianne and Nicky almost made him glad he’d done it. Heather had been so consumed by her own identity crisis for so long, she’d barely noticed the kids. Doris loved them, but she was also soothing her own battered conscience through them. Beau tried to put them first, but he sometimes wondered just how well he succeeded. And here was Molly, who had no reason to care, and yet she did.
Without thinking, he pulled her close and lowered his mouth to hers. It lasted no longer than the space of a heartbeat and probably didn’t even qualify as a kiss, but it ignited a fire inside him, and judging from the look on Molly’s face when he released her, it did the same to her.
Someone behind them let out a whistle and someone else howled, and Molly’s face turned redder than ever with embarrassment. Without saying a word, Beau found her hand and laced his fingers through hers, then set off walking toward the Burger Shack, feeling better than he had felt in years.
MOLLY PACED restlessly around the cabin, still buzzing from that half-second kiss on the way to dinner a few hours ago. Somehow—she didn’t know how—she’d managed to follow the conversation over burgers and fries and had made arrangements to meet Jennifer in the morning so they could talk with Jennifer’s mother. She’d even answered Nicky’s nonstop questions on the way home.
But now that she was alone again, she couldn’t stop thinking. She couldn’t read because of it, and she couldn’t sleep, either. And her heart seemed to beat just one message over and over again.
Beau Julander had kissed her.
The teenager that still resided somewhere inside her was jubilant. The adult was numb and a little worried. Had he meant anything by it, or had it simply been an impulse? Did he feel something for her, or had he put it out of his mind as soon as it happened?
Did she care?
She could have just asked him, but she didn’t trust herself to discuss it. She was quite sure she couldn’t talk to him without giving away her feelings. And what if he didn’t feel an attraction for her? What would she do then?
More than a little confused, she microwaved water in a mug, stirred in powdered cocoa and made a mental note to buy marshmallows next time she was in town. After pulling on a sweatshirt over her pajamas, she carried her cocoa and a blanket to the porch. She settled into one of the Adirondack chairs and let her gaze drift across the lawn, the neighboring houses, then finally to the sky with its full moon and an endless field of stars.
Except for one lone porch light, Beau’s house was dark. That ought to tell her something, shouldn’t it? Obviously Beau wasn’t losing sleep over her.
She leaned back in the chair and searched her heart for clues to what she was really feeling. When she was a girl, she’d spent endless hours dreaming about sharing a kiss with Beau. But instead of contentment over a dream realized, she found herself wanting the kiss to be the beginning of something new and wonderful.
Sighing softly, she cradled the mug in her hands and turned her thoughts, instead, to people’s huge reluctance to tell her the details of her mother’s accident. Like in her conversation with Joyce, which had been pleasant, but certainly not informative. Half her time in Serenity was gone, and she was no closer to learning the truth than she’d been a week ago. Now she wondered what had possessed her to think that coming back to Serenity after so long would be the solution—to anything?
Just as she was about to set her cup aside, the sound of a footstep on gravel reached her ears. A second later she saw the glint of moonlight on Beau’s hair as he came around the trees and started toward the cabin. He disappeared into the shadows, but not before her heart began to race and her hands to tremble.
He was walking so slowly she’d have had plenty of time to gather her things and disappear inside. But she didn’t want to disappear. She wanted to make sense of where she was and what she was doing. She wanted to figure out what she wanted from life and how she was going to get it. And she couldn’t do that by running.
She pulled the blanket up to her chin and waited till Beau reappeared. In seconds he did, and she saw he was still wearing the jeans and leather jacket he’d had on at the parade. When he reached the patch of lawn in front of the cabin, he paused for an instant before starting toward her. Her breath caught in her lungs and all her senses were on high alert by the time he reached the bottom of the steps.
His eyes met hers and held. “You’re awake.”
She nodded, but the intensity of his gaze took her voice away. When at last she felt she could speak, the world’s most inane response came from her lips: “So are you.”
He propped one hand against a post, still without looking away. “I tried sleeping, but I couldn’t get comfortable. Must have been the excitement of the parade.”
“And the stress of being in charge,” Molly suggested. “Stress can do strange things to a person.”
Beau’s eyes danced with amusement. “That was a joke, Molly. The parade had nothing to do with it.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks, and her gaze faltered. “Oh.”
Laughing softly, he motioned toward the chair beside hers. “Mind some company?”
“Of course not.” She sat a little straighter and slipped one hand from under the blanket. “Please…sit down.” He closed the space between them and spent a few seconds getting comfortable. Every cell in her body felt as if it was on fire, but she tried not to let that warp her perception or cloud her judgment. “So, if it wasn’t excitement over the parade that kept you awake, what was it?”
Beau leaned back in his chair and stared up into the sky. “A little bit of everything, I guess. Brianne. Nicky. Laundry. Nosy neighbors. Wondering when I’ll be able to work again.” He rolled his head to the side and looked straight at her. “You.”
The blanket Molly held slipped from her grip and puddled around her waist. Even wearing a sweatshirt over her pajamas, she felt exposed and vulnerable, but she didn’t let herself reach for the blanket again. “Me?”
“You.”
“I don’t understand.” She sounded foolish. He was being clear enough, but how could she let herself believe after wanting this for so long?
Beau covered her hand with one of his and heat spread up her arm. “You’re a beautiful woman, Molly. Surely you realize that. You’re intelligent and funny. You’re easy to talk to and great to hang around with. And you’re a whole lot more of a distraction than I ever thought you’d be.”
He looked sincere, but she still wouldn’t let herself believe him. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No, Molly. I want you to stay.” He reached out and gently ran one finger along her cheek. The touch robbed her of the ability to speak again, but she wouldn’t have known what t
o say, anyway. “It’s been a long time since I tried to make a move on a woman,” he said, still holding her gaze. “I’m really rusty and I could use some help.”
The confession astonished her. “What kind of help?”
“Well, you could say something to help calm the butterflies in my stomach. Tell me if I have a chance or stop me if I don’t.”
If he hadn’t sounded so sincere, Molly might have laughed. “You’re asking if you have a chance with me?” Was he nuts?
He drew his hand away slowly. “I don’t know what I’m asking. I mean, it’s not as if you’re going to be around after next week, so it’s not like there’s a chance that we could become anything permanent, and yet…”
Molly swallowed convulsively and her gaze traveled slowly across his features. Her heart stuttered with heightened awareness. She noticed everything from the curve of his brow to the tone of his skin, from the slight indentation beneath one ear caused by a long-forgotten scar to the faded scent of aftershave.
His gaze left her eyes and followed the line of her chin, locking on her lips and remaining there for so long she was afraid she’d never breathe again. She wondered what he’d say if he knew how many times she’d dreamed of this, but she didn’t want to find out. So much had gone wrong in her life lately that she couldn’t resist the pull of having just one dream come true—even if she knew it couldn’t last.
He trailed a finger along her jaw and tilted her chin, then edged forward oh so slowly and touched his lips to hers. The chill disappeared and sensations flamed to life inside. Molly drew in a ragged breath as his lips brushed hers tentatively, uncertainly, as if asking permission for more.
He leaned back and searched her eyes. She tried to hang on to her reason, but the moon and stars seemed to work together to create a magic that made rational thought impossible. He moved in close again, and this time when he kissed her, all that had been tentative before vanished.
He claimed her with an energy and passion she couldn’t have resisted if she’d wanted to—and she did not want to. She gave herself over to the moment and let the sensation envelop her. His lips were soft and warm…so very warm.
It was more than a dream, and she never wanted it to end. His mouth spoke silently of longing deep as the night and endless as the sky, and she knew that whatever was passing between them in this moment was larger than them both.
Too soon, the kiss ended and he pulled away. Their eyes met again and he smiled almost sheepishly. “Too much?”
Too much? Not enough!
Molly shook her head and whispered, “I have no complaints.”
His smile grew and he briefly kissed her lips once more. “You have no idea how good that is for my poor, battered ego.”
“Your ego?” Molly laughed softly. “I don’t think your ego needs rescuing by me.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “You might be surprised.”
Somewhere nearby a lone cricket that hadn’t noticed the colder weather began to sing. The sound and the touch of Beau’s hands soothed her, and she pressed her cheek into his palm. “I think you’re probably the last person around who should be worried about your ego. There wasn’t a girl in our high school who wouldn’t have sold her soul to go out with you, and I have a hard time believing that anything’s changed.”
Something flickered in his eyes, and she felt a sudden ping as she realized there was another Beau hidden behind the mask he presented to the world. She studied his expression carefully and the sensation grew. “You could have anything or anyone you want just for the asking,” she said softly, “but you really don’t know that, do you?”
He crooked a smile and drew his hands away. “That might be the way it looks to you, but that’s not how it was in school, and it sure isn’t how things are now. I’m a castoff, Molly. An old shoe that Heather grew tired of wearing.”
She started to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her.
“I’m just trying to find my way through life again, that’s all.” He sighed heavily. “There are a million other guys out there just like me, walking around in a daze and wondering if we’ll ever figure out what happened.”
His voice had changed, and a shadow drifted across his expression. Molly didn’t want to pry, but something stronger than her normal reticence made her ask, “What did happen between you and Heather?”
“She left me…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and the agony on his face kept Molly from interrupting while he worked out what came next. After a long time, he stood and walked to the edge of the porch. He stood there, bathed in shadow and obviously struggling for a long time.
Molly wished she could take back the question.
“It’s been a year,” he said at last. “You’d think I’d have adjusted to this by now.”
“Please don’t feel like you have to answer me,” Molly said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
He waved away the offer with one hand, but tempered the gesture with a thin smile. “It’s all right. Like I said, it’s just my poor bruised pride that’s hurting.” He ran a hand along the back of his neck and looked her in the eye. “She left me for a woman,” he said at last. “After seventeen years together and the birth of three children.”
Somehow Molly managed not to gasp, but her mind had trouble processing the bombshell. “Heather Preston?”
Beau actually grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“But how… Why…” She stopped and tried to pull her thoughts together. “I would never have guessed. She seemed so interested in boys…in you.”
“If it’s hard for you to believe, imagine how I feel.” He leaned against the post with one shoulder. “She wasn’t exactly reluctant when we were dating, and I always figured we created the mess we made together. Now I wonder if I just wasn’t paying attention.”
Molly stood, still shaken, but needing to do something more than stare at him. “I don’t think you can blame yourself. If it’s true that Heather felt that way, she had a responsibility to tell you.”
His laugh held no humor. “Well, I have it on good authority that I never paid attention to her, never listened to anything she said and didn’t care about anything that was important to her. I’d like to think that if a woman finds sleeping with her husband repellent, it might be a good idea to give a stronger clue than ‘Not tonight.’ But apparently I’m wrong about that, too.”
Molly still couldn’t completely wrap her mind around the news, but the numbness was beginning to wear off a little. “So she’s living somewhere. With…”
“Her girlfriend, Dawn.”
“And the kids? Do they know?”
“Brianne does. Nicky knows as much as he can comprehend—which isn’t everything.”
So many things about Brianne came clear to her all at once. The girl obviously felt betrayed and lied to on top of being deserted, and it was no wonder she had so much anger inside her. Molly’s heart ached when she thought of someone so young carrying such a heavy burden. “How are you dealing with it?”
“That depends on the day, and sometimes on the minute.”
“Have you considered getting counseling?”
He nodded and looked at the tops of the trees. “I considered it, but the counselor at the county mental-health department is a good friend of Heather’s, and I don’t think she’s the right person to be talking to the kids right now.”
“There’s no one else?”
“No one close enough to do any good. Rural Wyoming isn’t exactly bursting with options.”
He looked so lost, so confused and so angry all at the same time that something in Molly shifted. She’d carried around an image of him for so long that she’d practically turned him into an icon. Now, for the first time in her life, she saw clearly beneath the surface to the man inside, and she liked what she saw even more than the image she’d created. “You’re a good dad, Beau. You’ll figure out what the kids need. I have no doubt of that. You’re open with them, and that’s very impor
tant.”
“It’s funny,” he said, moving close again. “You don’t even know my kids, but you’ve shown more concern for them in the few days you’ve been here than Heather did in years. She walked out on us a year ago, but she was gone a long time before then. Thank you for that.”
He brushed a kiss on her cheek and let his gaze linger on her for a long moment before turning a regretful glance toward the house. “I’d love to stay longer, but I should get back. Nicky doesn’t always sleep through the night, and I swear Brianne has some kind of internal radar that goes off when I’m not there.”
Molly nodded quickly. “Of course. You need to be there with them.”
“Thanks for that, too.” He started down the steps, but he paused at the bottom and looked back. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course,” she said again, and the sudden smile on his face did the strangest thing to her heart. She watched him walk away, waiting until he disappeared again into the shadows before she went back into the cabin. But as she closed the door on the night, she wondered how easy it would be to walk away from him in a week.
CHAPTER TEN
THE PHONE RANG promptly at six-thirty the next morning—before Beau’s eyes were completely open, before he had coffee on, and long before he was ready for trouble. He’d slept like a log after his late-night visit with Molly, and he had a feeling it was going to be a very good day. He’d much rather start by sneaking a few kisses before the kids woke up than talking to someone who thought six-thirty was an acceptable hour for phone calls, but kickoff was just twelve hours away and there were bound to be problems. Smitty might even be calling to tell him the Cessna was ready.
He rolled onto his side and picked up the phone a split second before his sleep-blurred eyes registered the name and number on the caller ID. Holding in a groan, he flopped onto his back and draped one arm across his eyes. “Hello, Doris.”