Heavenly Match

by Sharon DeVita

  “It’s out of the question, Paul,” she stated firmly, stepping out of his embrace. “You’ve known from the beginning of our relationship that my aunt was a big part of my life. She’s the only family I have left. I can’t stand the thought of putting her away somewhere. Her home is with us, with people who love her.” She hated the pleading tone her voice had taken on, but she had never expected something like this.

  “You’re not putting her away,” Paul argued firmly, his lips curved in a stubborn, tight-lipped smile. “Think of this as…as an opportunity to finally live your own life. I understand how you might feel an odd sense of duty and responsibility to the old woman—”

  “Paul!” Her voice had been sharp with shock. “Aunt Emily is not an old woman, and I won’t have you talking about her like that. I love her, and it doesn’t have anything to do with duty or responsibility. I want her to be part of our lives.”

  “Well, I don’t.” He pouted. “You don’t need her anymore. I’ll take care of you now.” He sounded like a little boy trying to coax a younger child into giving him a piece of candy. Molly looked at him with fresh eyes and, for the first time, saw him as he really was.

  “Paul,” she snapped, losing her last bit of self-control, “I don’t need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself!”

  “Molly—” an exasperated sigh lifted his slender shoulders “—I’ve tried to be patient and reasonable. Now I think it’s about time for you to be reasonable, too. I thought you’d appreciate the fact that I’m willing to bear the cost of the woman’s upkeep. I can’t begin to tell you how expensive a place like this is. But I’m willing to make the sacrifice. The least you can do is be appreciative.” He was pouting again, and Molly’s temper erupted.

  Sacrifice? Upkeep? He was talking about her aunt as if she were a pet to be shipped off and boarded in some kennel to await her everlasting rest! Molly looked at the man she had promised to spend the rest of her life with. Now she realized she couldn’t stand to spend another moment with him, let alone the rest of her life. How could she have so misjudged him? How could she have been so blind?

  “Molly? Did you hear me? I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on these arrangements. You’ll have to make a choice. Either your aunt moves here or I’ll have to seriously reconsider my marriage proposal.” It was an outright threat and the last straw.

  Molly’s temper boiled over. Why on earth was she standing here arguing with this heartless, inconsiderate nincompoop? She yanked his engagement ring off her finger and thrust it into his hand. “Paul,” she said with exaggerated sweetness, “shove it!”

  Molly had decided right then and there that she would never allow another man to get close enough to hurt her. Or her aunt. She didn’t need or want a man in her life if it meant sacrificing someone she loved. If a man didn’t have enough love in his heart for her and Aunt Emily, well, then she didn’t need the man.

  Not even if he had laughing eyes. Molly scowled and thrust her head under the now-cool water. Jonathan Kent had sneaked back into her thoughts again. He had caught her off guard the night before. The man had charged into her life with all the subtlety of a high-speed freight train, intoxicating her with his smile, dazzling her with his charm and melting the icy wall around her heart with his fiery kisses.

  Shaking the water from her hair, Molly stepped from the shower. Lord, what on earth did the man do for an encore?

  Grabbing a towel, she vigorously rubbed her wet head. All day long she had thought about breaking their date. But what could she possibly say? What reason could she give? “I’m sorry, Jonathan, but I can’t possibly see you anymore because I’m terribly attracted to you?” That he had a way of looking at her that made her pulse dance to its own private beat? Molly moaned in disgust. She certainly wasn’t about to tell him that, even if it was the blasted truth.

  Last night was supposed to be just another boring date with an equally boring man. Jonathan Kent was about as boring as the Fourth of July. And that smile of his! He ought to register it as a lethal weapon, she thought dismally.

  Just look at the way he had charmed her aunt! All day long she’d had to listen to her aunt’s glowing words of appreciation about the man. Molly couldn’t have stopped thinking about Jonathan even if she’d wanted to. Her aunt had made sure of that. Boy, if Jonathan Kent ever needed a character witness, Molly knew just where to send him!

  With a sigh, Molly threw on her clothes, braided her hair and headed for the kitchen.

  “I’ve packed the basket for you, dear.” Aunt Emily pulled off her apron and patted her hair. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll get going now.”

  “Going?” Molly’s ears perked up. “Where are you off to tonight?”

  “Made some plans with Ralph and Alma, dear. Don’t want to be late.” With a breezy wave, Emily sailed through the kitchen and was out the front door before Molly had a chance to open her mouth.

  “Try to stay out of trouble,” she muttered, more to herself than to her aunt. She grabbed the picnic basket and hauled it to the living room. Her aunt must have packed enough food for an army; the basket weighed a ton.

  Molly plopped down on the window seat, where she had a clear view of the street. What a beautiful night for a picnic, she thought, as she watched the setting sun spread a luminous glow across the early evening sky. Molly soaked up the view, letting the last rays of the sun warm her. She hadn’t been on a picnic with a man in a long time. And she hadn’t let one get close to her in a long time, either. Not until last night.

  A frown marred her brow. Thinking about it, Molly realized that all the praise her aunt had given Jonathan didn’t hide the fact that, in some ways, he was a lot like Paul. All the praise in the world couldn’t erase the uneasy feeling she had about Jonathan. Or her suspicions.

  Maybe if Jonathan had told her he had come home because he was worried about his grandmother, maybe then, she wouldn’t have become so suspicious. But, from the vague and sketchy answers he had given her last night, she had a feeling he had come home to “take care” of his grandmother in much the same way Paul had wanted to take care of her aunt.

  Anger began to bubble through her veins. Yet, it was hard for her to reconcile such a cold, indifferent attitude with the warm, caring man she had spent last evening with. But then again, Paul had had her fooled for a while, too.

  She was smarter now, but obviously not smart enough to say no when Jonathan had asked her out again. What had she been thinking of? Her lips clamped into a thin line as self-annoyance burned through her. Why hadn’t she simply shaken the man’s hand and sent him on his way instead of walking willingly into his arms like a fly into a spider’s web?

  Well, she thought with sudden determination, she wouldn’t make that mistake again. She would go on the picnic because, during a temporary lapse in common sense, she had agreed to. But, today, she was going to keep her wits about her and tell him that she wasn’t going to see him again. She wasn’t interested in getting involved in a relationship.

  There was no denying that Jonathan Kent was a handsome, charming man, and no doubt some woman would be delighted to claim him for her own, but not this woman, Molly reminded herself firmly. She didn’t want or need a man in her life. Molly took a deep breath. Now all she had to do was convince one gentle, redheaded giant.

  “Yo, Mol-ly!”

  The loud singsong yodel, reminiscent of her childhood, pierced the quiet evening air. Her startled gaze flew to the street, and she gasped. Jonathan was standing right below the window, an engaging smile on his face. The sight of him brought an unexpected flutter to her heart and her face grew warm.

  Oh Lord, she thought, letting her eyes travel over him. He’s gorgeous. Another sharp yodel pierced the air and she winced. Was the man crazy? The whole town had probably heard him yodeling for her like a ten-year-old.

  She lifted her hand and waved, hoping it would quiet him down. But the sight of her only seemed to encourage him. Jonathan grinned broadly and waved b
ack, singing out her name again.

  Molly grabbed up the basket and nearly tripped over her own feet in her hurry to get to the front door. “Good Lord,” she muttered. What on earth had she gotten herself into?

  Chapter Five

  Molly took the hall steps two at a time, juggling the basket and trying not to trip over her own feet. Jonathan Kent was totally exasperating, she thought, allowing a smile to lift her lips. Why did she have the feeling she was going out to play a game of kick the can instead of going out on a date?

  Taking a deep breath, she threw open the front door and skidded full tilt into Jonathan, who was standing directly outside the door. Molly swallowed hard and let her gaze travel over him. He wore tattered sneakers, faded denims that looked wonderfully comfortable and fit his long, lean legs like a second skin, and a plaid shirt in shades of blue and green that picked up the color of his eyes and molded the well-muscled contours of his broad shoulders. Her gaze slid higher, and Molly’s throat grew dry as her eyes finally settled on his smiling mouth.

  “Hi, Molly.” He looked genuinely pleased to see her and gave her a quick hug before taking the picnic basket out of her hand. “What a beautiful evening for a picnic. It’s so warm that I thought we’d walk to the park. If I remember correctly, Dunsbar Park is just a few blocks from here.” He draped an arm across her shoulder and she fell into step beside him, still a little stunned by his affectionate greeting.

  “How do you know where the park is?” Her steps slowed, and she turned to face him, surprised by this sudden curve he had thrown her.

  Jonathan laughed softly and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I grew up in Hillchester.”

  She stopped abruptly and looked up at him, stunned. If Jonathan Kent had grown up in Hillchester surely she would have met him. And remembered him. Jonathan Kent was not the kind of man you forgot.

  “You grew up here?” she repeated with raised brows. Jonathan urged her forward, steering her down the mossy green path that led into the park.

  “Sure did. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. It’s been a long time. I was about twelve the last time I saw you, and you were quite a bit younger, and if I remember correctly, you weren’t interested in ‘older men.’” He chuckled softly and Molly began to relax.

  “You were cute as a button,” he continued, taking her hand to walk along the narrowing path. She followed behind him, surprised at the way her hand fit perfectly into his. “Saucy little pigtails and a face full of adorable freckles.”

  “Go on,” she urged, her curiosity aroused.

  “It was at a picnic right here.” Jonathan stopped at the top of the grassy knoll that overlooked the park. A honey-colored streak arched across the sky, touching the horizon as far as the eye could see. Puffs of clouds drifted aimlessly, their motion slow and lazy. It was totally quiet, except for the occasional squawking of a bird.

  The knoll overlooked the large, grassy picnic area. Finally, after the long cold winter, the spring blossoms were bursting forth, turning the park from a dark, barren land into a garden of rich color. The pungent smell of freshly cut grass filled the air.

  “This place hasn’t changed that much,” Jonathan said softly. Absently his fingers traced a delicate pattern atop her shoulder. “It’s still beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you.” He turned his head, and his gaze locked on hers, causing her breath to grow ragged. Molly made a conscious effort to breathe normally.

  “Thank you,” Molly muttered, pulling her eyes from him. It was not going to be easy to keep her well-intentioned resolutions if Jonathan was going to be so darn charming. Determined to change the mood and to get his attention off her, Molly gave him a playful poke in the ribs. “I’ll race you down.” Her eyes danced with delight.

  “Is that a challenge, Miss Maguire?”

  She nodded. It was no contest; she’d beat him handily. Molly had been running down this knoll since she was a kid. She knew every bump and groove in the ground. Besides, Jonathan was at a disadvantage. Even though he had longer legs, he was carrying the basket. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “Molly, I think I should tell you. I simply can’t resist a challenge.” He smiled wickedly, and she wondered if there were a hidden meaning in his words. “You’re on!” He took a giant step back, wrapping his fingers firmly around the leather strap of the picnic basket. “All right, now, when I give the signal, we go. Last one down has to clean up.”

  “Agreed.” Molly nodded her head and stepped back until she was even with him. She tossed her braid behind her back and bounced on the soles of her feet in preparation.

  “On your mark,” he said slowly, poised in position and keeping his eyes on her. She tried not to smile. This was one challenge Jonathan Kent was going to lose. “Get set! Go!” He was off and running the moment the words were out.

  He was two steps ahead of her before she even realized he had given the signal. “Foul!” she cried, scrambling down the grassy hill to catch up with him. She had almost reached him when Jonathan rolled forward and went head first the rest of the way down.

  “Jonathan!” she cried in alarm as he landed in a tumbled heap on the grass at the bottom of the hill. “Jonathan?” She ran to him. “Are you all right?” Worry clouded her eyes, and she touched his shoulder.

  He looked up and grinned. “Beat you!”

  She drew back. “You did that on purpose? On purpose!” She gave his shoulder a hearty push.

  “Of course.” He grinned at the look on her face. “We agreed that the last one down cleans up. We didn’t say you couldn’t tumble down.”

  “You scared the daylights out of me. I thought you were hurt!” She was too relieved to be angry. When she had watched him tumble forward, her heart had caught in her throat; she’d been certain that he’d be injured.

  Laughing softly, Jonathan lifted his arms and pulled her into his lap.

  “Jonathan?” she cried in surprise. Her body reacted immediately to his nearness. She squirmed uncomfortably and glared into his smiling face.

  “I never lose, Molly,” he said softly, lifting a hand to brush back her hair. “Not when I want something.”

  Why did she get the feeling they weren’t talking about a silly race down a hill? He loosened his hold for just a moment, and she scrambled to her feet.

  She needed a moment to compose herself and to slow down her erratic breathing. His closeness, not to mention his comments, had made her uneasy. Was he trying to tell her something?

  “What happened to the basket?” she asked, noticing for the first time that Jonathan didn’t have it.

  “Left it up there.” He turned and pointed. Molly’s gaze followed his finger, and there sat the picnic basket, safe and sound. He had this all planned? So much for trying to outsmart or best Jonathan Kent!

  “You find a good spot, and I’ll go retrieve the food.” He held out a hand and she helped him up. Jonathan Kent was a force to be reckoned with, she realized as she watched him climb up the hill.

  He was intimidating enough in her dreams and her thoughts, but she had forgotten how overwhelming the man actually was in person. And fun, her mind muttered. Molly scowled. She wouldn’t think about that now.

  “This spot is perfect, Molly.” Startled, she whirled around. Jonathan was standing right behind her. His soft breath fanned the skin of her neck. Nervously, she pushed back her hair. He was just a bit too close for her comfort.

  “Hungry?” She took a step forward and grabbed the basket from him. Without waiting for a response, she set the basket down and pulled out a large checkered blanket.

  Jonathan dropped his long frame down beside her and watched as she snatched the containers of food out of the basket and laid them on the blanket.

  “You didn’t cook all this food, did you?” Jonathan grabbed a celery stalk and began to nibble.

  “Of course, I did. I’ll have you know I’m an excellent cook.” Relieved that the conversation had finally settled on safer ground, Molly began
to relax.

  “Wonderful,” he drawled softly. “You’re an excellent cook. And I’m an excellent eater. We’ll make a great team, Molly.” His tone was mild, but she thought she detected a faint thread of commitment laced through his words.

  Molly looked away and stared off into the distance. It was time for her to put her resolutions into actions. She had no wish to be part of any “team.” She was strictly a solo act, and it was time to set Jonathan Kent straight on the matter.

  “Jonathan,” she began hesitantly, fingering a blade of grass, “I don’t think…I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” He studied her intently, and Molly realized she had probably just failed tact and diplomacy.

  Jonathan looked surprised. “Molly, don’t you think that’s a bit rash? If it will make you feel better, we can run the race over again, and this time I’ll let you win. And I promise never to insult your cooking again. If it will help, I’ll gladly eat every single morsel of food you’ve brought and enjoy every bit of it.” He smiled into her uncertain face, and Molly couldn’t help it: she smiled back.

  She had to give the man an A for effort. Leave it to Jonathan to make light of the subject. He knew darn well her declaration had nothing to do with winning races or her culinary expertise. And she was not about to be put off so easily.

  She lifted her eyes to his, determined to set him straight, but the warm smile on his face softened her resolve. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, that’s all.”

  “Are you afraid of me, Molly?” His fingers ran lightly up and down her arm, and she tried to ignore the pleasure she felt at his touch.

  “No,” she lied, pulling her eyes from his. Terrified was more like it, she thought. “I…I just don’t want to get involved in a relationship right now.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re not afraid of me.” His hand skated up her arm to cup her chin. She was forced to meet his eyes. The warmth and tenderness reflected in the depth of his gaze only frightened her more. “I won’t hurt you, Molly,” he whispered softly.