“Or wherever you end up next,” Carter said, his gaze direct.
She didn’t flinch, just met his gaze with a shrug. “I don’t know. I like Austin. I might stay put for a while.”
Carter’s response was to arch a brow. That brow with the scar above it, the one she used to run her fingers over.
She shuddered, remembering oh-so-clearly those intimate moments they spent together, when he’d bring her fingertips to his lips, sucking each of them into his mouth until every part of her trembled. When he’d take her mouth in a kiss that made her dizzy. She’d learned so much about sex, about her own body, with him.
It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, because his green eyes went stormy dark.
“Excuse me.” She pushed back from the table and went into the kitchen, leaned her hands on the sink, and looked out the window.
They were going to have forever together. A stupid teenage dream.
Back then it had felt so real. The looks they’d exchanged just a moment ago had felt just as real, and they weren’t teenagers anymore.
Imagination. Just her imagination.
“What were you thinking about in there?”
She whipped around to find him standing just a few inches away from her.
“Nothing.” She started to push past him, but he caught her hand.
“Molly.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Don’t.”
His thumb brushed her inner wrist, and her pulse kicked up. She didn’t want to feel anything for him. She hated him.
She hated herself more, because she still did feel. And when he pulled her closer, she couldn’t resist the draw.
“About last night. You did all the talking. There are a few things I want to say to you.”
“Hey, Moll, I thought we might—”
With Emma’s appearance, Carter took a step back, and so did Molly.
Carter took a deep breath. “I’m going to go talk to Luke.”
He turned, grasped Emma by the shoulders, and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Really happy for you and Luke, Em.” Then he left the room.
Emma frowned. “What was that all about?”
Shaking off the residual heat, she gave her sister an innocent look. “What was what all about?”
Emma crossed her arms. “Come on, Moll. You and Carter.”
“There is no me and Carter. That was over a long time ago.”
“Not from where I was standing. He had your hand, and you looked like you were about to kiss.”
Molly let out a short laugh. “I can guarantee you that was not about to happen. Or ever happen. We don’t even like each other.”
“You don’t have to like each other to still feel that pull of passion.”
“That’s not it. There was nothing.”
At Emma’s look of disbelief, Molly added, “Really, Em. There’s nothing between Carter and me. We’re over.”
Emma hugged her. “I’ve always felt like there’s something to your breakup with Carter that you never told me.”
She’d never told anyone. Not Emma, not her parents. They would have swarmed her and coddled her and there would have been a giant mess of recriminations and finger-pointing, and they would have ended up hating Carter when it had been no one else’s business. She’d dealt with it alone and run like hell, licking her wounds by herself.
“Nothing to tell. We just weren’t meant to be. We were kids, you know? It was a big ugly blowup by two teenagers who thought they were in love—and weren’t.”
“Are you sure? Because it sure seems to me to be more than that.”
One of the main reasons she’d gone—and stayed gone—was because her sister, and her mother, were both very insightful and constantly questioned her. “Absolutely sure. There’s nothing more than that. It’s just one of those situations where we can’t be friends, you know?”
Emma frowned. “He didn’t cheat on you, did he?”
The one thing she knew for a fact was that Carter had never been with anyone else while they’d been together. “No, he didn’t cheat on me, Em. Let it go, okay?”
Emma finally sighed. “Okay. I just, love you, you know? And it seems to me that you’re still hurting over it.”
“I’m not. I’m fine. I’m just . . . ready to get on the road again.”
Emma leaned against the kitchen counter. “You know, I really wish you would come home, Moll. I can’t tell you how much I miss having you in my life.”
Molly’s stomach clenched. “I miss you, too. But I love the travel, the adventure of moving around. It’s who I am.”
It wasn’t really who she was. She’d missed home every day for the past twelve years. It was who she’d had to become, in order to survive.
Emma hugged her. “Think about it. Home is always here for you if you change your mind.”
Molly squeezed her sister tight. “I will.”
But she wouldn’t change her mind.
Tomorrow, she’d be gone.
CARTER PARKED RHONDA in the garage, smoothing his hand over the steering wheel before pulling the keys out. She was in perfect condition.
Not that he was surprised Molly would take such good care of her. She’d taken good care of him that night at the rehearsal dinner.
He hung his keys on the hook just inside the door, then went to the fridge and grabbed a beer before making his way into the living room. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the remote, turned on the TV and found the football game, then leaned back and took a long swallow of beer.
It was over. He’d done his part for Luke and Emma’s wedding, which had been a success, just as he thought it would be.
He’d said his goodbyes at Emma’s folks’ house, even saying a polite goodbye to Molly, who’d managed a smile and an awkward hug.
That had been the worst part, knowing he wasn’t going to see her again, when he knew damn well so much had been left unsaid between them.
But, really, what more could be left to say? They’d already said it all—twelve years ago. The past should be left there, and they needed to go their separate ways. Trying to repair the damage would only make things worse.
The problem was, he’d wanted to talk to her, to make the hurt go away for both of them.
He took another drink of beer and stared at the TV, hoping for answers, when he knew there weren’t any. But he’d spent years thinking about Molly, remembering every smile, every laugh, every curve of her body. She’d been the one woman he compared every other woman to, and they all had come up short.