Smiling at the look on Molly’s face, Emily dismissed Molly’s questions with an airy wave of her hand. “You know Clarence. Gets carried away with himself. Not to worry, dear. The matter’s all taken care of.” Emily’s smile brightened and Molly cringed.
“What’s taken care of?” Molly asked.
Emily frowned. “Jonathan didn’t stay very long, dear, how come?”
Molly stirred uneasily. Her aunt was doing it again, changing the subject in midstream. But she knew that until she told Aunt Emily all about her date with Jonathan, there was no hope of getting any information about her aunt’s latest escapade. Sighing, Molly shook her head. Might as well get it over with. Not that she minded. They’d had some wonderful times in the past, laughing and talking about some of Molly’s dates. And Molly had to admit that some of those dates had been pretty laughable.
Tucking her legs under her, Molly leaned back on the couch. “It seems that Jonathan is allergic to Nickodemus.” Remembering Jonathan’s hasty exit brought a smile to her face.
“Glad to hear it,” Emily chortled. “Maybe now you’ll get rid of that blasted animal.”
“Aunt Emily!” Molly tried to look shocked. “I have absolutely no intention of getting rid of Nickodemus. You know how I feel about him.” Emily made a face that left little doubt as to how she felt about the animal. But, no matter how much her aunt protested, Molly knew her real feelings. It was her aunt who had brought the stray home. Molly had been about ten years old at the time. Nickodemus had been hurt. The poor little thing had been scared and terribly malnourished. Her aunt had lovingly nursed the wounded stray back to health, all the time insisting that once the cat was well, she was going to send him on his way. But, by the time Nickodemus was well, he was firmly entrenched in their household, and he and Molly were inseparable. Even though her aunt enjoyed complaining about Nickodemus, Molly knew she loved him, too.
“This one’s a nice one, dear.”
Molly ignored her aunt’s wistful tone and blinked sleepily. “Nickodemus?” she teased.
Emily patted her arm encouragingly. “Jonathan, dear. Nice looking, too. Not like some of the others. Remember Roger?” She chuckled softly. “Wasn’t he the one that wore a Christmas ornament around his neck?”
Molly laughed at the memory and nodded her head. “That’s the one. And it wasn’t a Christmas ornament, Aunt Emily. It was a gold medallion.” Roger was into gold chains in a big way. One in particular had caught her aunt’s eye. It was a large, intricately designed medallion of his zodiac sign that hung all the way down to the middle of Roger’s chest. The man had so many chains wound around his neck, Molly couldn’t understand how he stayed upright. The weight alone should have toppled him.
“Didn’t notice any ornaments around Jonathan’s neck, dear,” Emily observed cheerfully, and Molly couldn’t help it: she smiled. Jonathan was definitely not the ornament type.
“No,” she admitted, suddenly remembering the way her arms felt wrapped around Jonathan’s neck. A shiver raced through her, and she tried to banish the memory from her mind. “He…he doesn’t seem to wear any ornaments.”
“Smells nice, too.”
Molly laid her head back against the couch. She certainly couldn’t argue with her aunt about that. Jonathan Kent did smell good. Wonderful, in fact. She closed her lids dreamily, and Jonathan’s face came into view. The sound of his voice echoed in her mind, and the scent of him engulfed her. Yes, Jonathan Kent smelled good. Too good. It made her nervous.
Molly nodded slowly. “Yes, he smells good, too.”
Emily’s smile brightened a notch. “Seems to be able to walk unassisted, too.”
Molly nodded again. And waited. She had a feeling her aunt was leading up to something, in a roundabout way, of course, but definitely up to something. Molly wasn’t quite sure where the conversation was heading. She never was with her aunt.
Emily’s eyes grew dreamy. “Noticed he doesn’t have a hairy mouth, either.”
Molly bit her lip to keep from laughing. Aunt Emily didn’t take kindly to the idea of men with mustaches. “No, Aunt Emily, Jonathan doesn’t have a hairy mouth, either.” What he had, she thought wistfully, was the softest mouth she had ever kissed. And the sweetest. Molly’s lids closed as her senses took over. When Jonathan had lowered his lips toward hers, a pulsating fever had shot through her limbs, leaving her weak and breathless with anticipation. When his mouth had finally captured hers, she had given in completely to the feelings that rolled through her, without regard for the consequences. In that instant, when Jonathan’s mouth had touched hers, he had jolted her senses in a way that frightened her. Her reactions to him were startling.
A wave of longing washed over Molly as she replayed the scene in her mind: the way the muscles of his broad back felt beneath her fingers, the way his body fit perfectly to hers, the way his hands wrapped securely around her waist. Desire seemed to burn a path through her, frazzling her nerve endings.
“Molly?” Her aunt’s voice startled her, and Molly’s eyes flew open in surprise. Her aunt smiled knowingly, bringing a heated flush to Molly’s face.
Recovering quickly, Molly faked a yawn and stretched. “I’m really tired,” she fibbed rather unconvincingly. “I almost nodded off there for a moment.”
Amusement danced in Emily’s eyes, and Molly knew she hadn’t fooled her for a moment. “He’s real helpful, too,” Emily continued. “Look at the way he came to my rescue this evening.”
“Yes,” Molly admitted a bit grudgingly, well aware that her aunt was probably getting ready to zero in for the kill. “He’s helpful, too.”
“Alma was right. Jonathan is a good boy.” Emily measured Molly with her eyes, as if waiting for her to agree. When Molly didn’t respond, Emily continued. “Sure don’t find many like him anymore.”
Ahhh, Molly thought, so this was what her aunt was leading up to. Emily wanted to be absolutely certain Molly was aware that she had finally found a “good one.”
A sparkle of annoyance made Molly tense. At the moment she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more about Jonathan Kent or his virtues. As it was, Molly was having a hard enough time chasing the man from her mind. And she really didn’t need her aunt reminding her just how wonderful Jonathan was. Molly was trying to forget!
Satisfied that Molly had gotten her message, Emily smiled once more. “Gonna see him again?” she prompted hopefully.
Molly’s sense of humor took over. Even though her aunt had been less than subtle, Molly didn’t have the heart to be upset with her. She knew her aunt only wanted her to be happy. Why else would she have devoted most of her time these past few years to hauling home men who had hairy lips, men who wore Christmas ornaments around their necks, and even some men who were old enough to be Aunt Emily’s dates—hoping to find a good one among the assortment?
For just a moment, Molly contemplated telling her aunt not to get her hopes up about Jonathan Kent, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Her aunt probably wouldn’t pay any attention to her, anyway. Jonathan Kent was not about to become a permanent fixture in Molly’s life. She wasn’t in the market for a man. Good or otherwise. Her aunt had never listened to her before; no doubt she wouldn’t listen now.
“Well?” Emily was waiting in anxious anticipation.
“Yes, Aunt Emily,” she finally admitted with a laugh, “I’m going to see Jonathan again. We’re going on a picnic tomorrow. But don’t—”
Her aunt jumped from the couch. “Then you’d better get to bed, dear. We’ve got to get up early. There’s chicken to fry and pies to bake. I’ll bet Jonathan likes apple pie. I’ll slice the apples myself in the morning.” Emily frowned and patted her lip with a finger in concentration. “Maybe I should get started now.”
Molly shook her head in amazement at her aunt’s sudden burst of energy. “Aunt Emily, Jonathan’s not picking me up until seven. We’ll have plenty of time. And it’s not necessary to go to all that trouble. We can just have sandwiches.”
“Yes, sandwiches. Aunt Emily, we’re going on a picnic. This is not the feast of—”
“Nonsense! Some brie cheese and a nice light wine, too,” her aunt continued, totally ignoring Molly’s protests. “You’d better get to bed now, dear. It’s late and you need your beauty sleep.” She smiled mischievously. “Wouldn’t want you to look tired for your date with Jonathan.”
With a resigned sigh, Molly bent to pick up her shoes. If she hoped to forget about the man, she wasn’t going to get the chance with her aunt around. She suddenly bolted upright. Her aunt had almost done it again! “Aunt Emily,” she said firmly. “You never did tell me what happened at the senior center tonight. What on earth were you doing there?” Her words were said to her aunt’s retreating back. As if sensing she was about to have to answer some questions, Emily had already started padding toward her bedroom.
“Aunt Emily?”
“Not to worry, dear,” Emily said breezily, before shutting her bedroom door. “I told you, the matter’s taken care of.”
Outwitted again, Molly thought with a trace of humor. One of these days she was actually going to pin her aunt down and force her to give a straight answer. Molly smiled. Wishful thinking. Her aunt was as slippery as a snake when it came to something she didn’t want to discuss. And right now she didn’t want to discuss the senior center. Or her arrest. All she wanted to discuss was Jonathan Kent.
Emily opened her door a crack. “Besides, Jonathan said he’d help us with the matter. He’s a good boy, Molly.” With a wide smile, Emily promptly closed her door again.
Jonathan Kent again! Molly marched to her room. The man seemed able to do quite a lot of things well, Molly thought with just a touch of resentment. Including winning her aunt over, which was no small feat.
Molly’s eyes narrowed as she yanked off her dress and dropped it to the floor. All in all, she decided, she’d heard just about enough about Jonathan Kent and his virtues for one night.
She pulled on her nightgown and snapped off the light. She was going to bed, and she simply was not going to think about him anymore. She fully intended to get a good night’s sleep, and not because she needed her beauty sleep, either, but because she was tired. Period.
Molly slid into bed, rolled over and tucked the covers up under her chin. She closed her eyes, and a vision of a laughing, redheaded giant filled her thoughts. Punching her pillow in annoyance, she turned over, squeezed her eyes tightly shut and, with a determined effort, began to count sheep.
Molly was almost asleep before she realized that each and every one of the curly haired little creatures appeared to be a redhead!
“Don’t you think you should be getting ready for your date with Jonathan, dear? It’s almost five.”
Molly’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t enough that the man had darkened her dreams and haunted her night so that she’d hardly had a wink of peaceful sleep, but, much to her chagrin, he had even managed to dog her thoughts for nearly every moment of this new day.
A soft, exasperated sigh slipped Molly’s pursed lips, and she wiped her hands vigorously on her apron. No sense taking out her annoyance on Aunt Emily. It certainly wasn’t her fault that Jonathan Kent had managed to nestle deep in the recesses of Molly’s mind.
“Maybe you’re right, Aunt Emily. I probably should start getting ready. I’ll finish packing up this food after I take my shower.” Pushing a tumble of dark hair from her forehead, Molly grabbed the bowl of potato salad she had been mixing and snapped the plastic lid on before depositing it in the refrigerator.
“Why don’t you wear that lovely yellow sundress, dear?” Emily suggested helpfully, and Molly scowled.
“Aunt Emily,” she began with forced patience. “I hardly think a ruffled yellow sundress is right for a picnic in the park. I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt,” she announced firmly, not wishing to put any more emphasis on the date than necessary.
It was just a simple picnic date, she reminded herself as she pulled off her apron and stalked to her room. Just because Jonathan had occupied her thoughts all morning was no reason to treat this date—or this man— any different from any of the other dates she’d had in recent memory.
With firm determination, Molly strode to her closet and picked out a pair of soft, worn jeans and a white cotton shirt. She examined the jeans carefully. They were old and worn and extremely comfortable. She frowned. They also looked as if they’d been through several wars. Maybe she should wear her new jeans. Not for any reason, she assured herself, except that she did need to break them in. She searched her closet until she found the new pants and quickly snapped them from the hanger. She dismissively tossed them onto the bed and headed for the shower.
The hot water helped to ease some of the weariness from her body. She hadn’t had such a restless night in ages. Not since she had broken up with Paul.
Thoughts of her former fiancé brought a flood of memories to her mind and even the heat of the water couldn’t prevent a convulsive shiver skipping up her spine. The pain was still raw, the wound still deep. How could she have forgotten so quickly?
Paul Host had seemed warm and charming at first, but then— A sharp stab of pain hit Molly and she closed her eyes.
One night shortly before their wedding Paul had called to tell her he had a wonderful surprise for her. She remembered how touched she had been. Paul Host was not the type of man to go in for anything as frivolous as surprises. Delighted with the sudden and unexpected change in him, Molly had happily talked a blue streak that night as Paul had guided his compact car out of town. When he pulled to a stop in front of a large gray concrete building several miles outside of town, Molly was puzzled. She looked at the building carefully. This was her surprise? Not wanting to spoil Paul’s obvious delight, she remained silent and just a bit confused.
When Paul had helped her from the car, he’d kept a protective arm around her shoulder, which was something else that she had found unusual. Paul didn’t believe in public shows of affection. Conservative to the core, he had never so much as held her hand in public. And in private, he hadn’t done much more.
“This is it, darling,” Paul crooned proudly, urging her forward. “Isn’t it wonderful? I’ve been searching for just the right place for months.” His face was animated and he was beaming from ear to ear.
“Paul, what are we doing here? What is this place?” Molly stared in confusion at the building and the surrounding grounds. The place was well kept, with perfectly manicured lawns and a large garden dotted with fragrant blooms. Keeping a smile firmly planted on her face, she turned to Paul. His obvious excitement was making her just a tad nervous. Paul was not given to bouts of excitement. This abrupt change in his personality was very strange and a bit unnerving.
“It’s really quite perfect, don’t you think?” he repeated, ignoring her questions. “My attorneys have assured me that this place is quite reputable.” He nodded his head vigorously. “It has their full stamp of approval.”
Paul seemed to be deliberately avoiding her questions and Molly’s heart beat a little faster. She touched his arm gently. “Paul, yes, it’s quite nice. But, what does Sunnydale Acres have to do with us?”
His thin lips curved upward in a jubilant smile. “Darling, it’s Aunt Emily’s new home! Isn’t it wonderful?” He hugged her tight. “I want you to know this is one of the most expensive rest homes in the county,” he proclaimed proudly, “but, nothing is too good for our Aunt Emily.” He was positively beaming, and Molly’s heart skipped frantically.
Rest home? Molly turned to stare at him in shocked disbelief. Maybe Paul was the one that needed a rest. He expected her aunt to live here? In a rest home? Molly looked at the cold, forbidding building, and a convulsive shudder raced through her. This had to be a terrible mistake. Maybe she had simply misunderstood Paul.
Molly shook her
head, trying to clear the turbulance that rocked her frame. “Paul,” she began gently, “I don’t understand. I thought we agreed that Aunt Emily would live with us after we were married. We discussed it, remember? The night you asked me to marry you. We both agreed that Aunt Emily could continue to make her home with us.” She stared at him hopefully, but the look on his face caused her spirits to nosedive.
“I know, Molly, but this place is wonderful. Clean, well managed, close to Hillchester. What more could we want?”
“But Paul—”
“Darling, this will be much better for all of us.” Paul dropped his voice to a slow, well-modulated tone, as if he were talking to a petulant child. “Molly, here your aunt will have friends her own age, people with common interests.”
She struggled to hold on to her composure.
“And,” he went on, nuzzling her neck, “maybe we can finally have some privacy.”
Her frown quickly deepened to a scowl. Privacy? They’d had all the privacy they’d wanted. Aunt Emily never interfered in their relationship, and she was always careful to give her and Paul plenty of time alone. Not that they’d needed it. Other than a few impassioned kisses, they had never done anything in private that they couldn’t do in public. Or in front of Aunt Emily. So what the devil was he talking about?
“Paul, I’m afraid I don’t understand. What about Aunt Emily’s house? You know there’s room for all of us.” Her eyes slid back to the building and a sense of foreboding engulfed her. “I couldn’t bear to put my aunt away in this place,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Darling, you’re not putting her away, simply relocating her someplace where she’d be more comfortable.” His voice had taken on a soothing tone, but Molly wasn’t soothed; she was furious.
Paul had to be insane, not to mention incredibly insensitive. How could he even think about making a decision like this without even bothering to consult her about it?
Heavenly Match Page 5