MOLLY SLEPT on the car ride home. Hunter didn’t mind, as he needed the time to think and regroup. Last night had been spectacular. From the first time they’d made love to the last, and the food, teasing and fun in between. Yeah, taking advantage of getting away from Molly’s home had been pure genius, he thought, glancing at the sleeping beauty in the passenger seat beside him.
She leaned against the headrest, her mouth slightly open, and didn’t move a muscle, not even when he swerved to avoid a car that had cut him off in the left lane. He’d obviously worn her out. The notion made him grin.
He loved her and the truth settled like lead in his stomach because though he didn’t doubt her feelings for him, he doubted her ability to commit. Even if she was head over heels in love with him, he knew from experience the minute her life got rocky, all bets were off. Molly ran away better than anyone he knew.
And if the worst happened and he couldn’t get her father’s murder charges dropped or him acquitted, her turmoil would be unimaginable. All Hunter could do for now was concentrate on her father’s case. As long as he was tied to her family, he was connected to Molly.
He pulled back into the driveway of her father’s house late in the day and parked.
“Wake up, beautiful.” He placed a hand on her thigh and jostled her awake.
Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze settled on his face, and a warm smile settled on her lips. “Hi,” she murmured.
“Hey there.”
“I’m really bad company, aren’t I?” she asked, stretching her arms out in front of her.
Hunter laughed. “I wouldn’t say that. Are you ready to go in?” He hit a button, releasing the car-door locks.
“Wait.”
He turned back to her.
“I had a really good time. A great time, actually. I’m glad you put so much thought into everything.” She bit down on her bottom lip, uncharacteristically shy.
He slid his hand around the back of her neck. “You needed the distraction.” He inched as close as the middle console would allow. “And I needed you.”
Hunter followed his gut-honest statement with a slow, deep, long kiss. One that would remind her of their night together and hopefully convince her that his feelings were solid and real.
“Mmm.” A low, throaty purr escaped from deep in her throat, the rumbling sound traveling through his body and settling low in his groin.
Shit. He pulled back, still staring into her warm gaze. “Another second of this and I won’t be able to walk back into the house.” He forced a laugh, hoping his body would take the hint and relax.
“Okay, let’s get your mind on other things,” she said, clearly amused. “We have to tell my father that we found Lydia in Atlantic City, but not much else in the way of helpful evidence.” Her sad tone helped cut the arousal pulsing through him.
“Nothing’s over, Molly. We are going to find a way to use everything we uncover. It’s just not clear yet what the plan is. But things always fall into place. You just need to trust me.” And he needed to believe he could put the pieces of Paul Markham’s sleazy life together in a way that wouldn’t make Frank look guilty.
“I trust you to do your best. I’m just trying to stay rational so that I don’t convince myself everything’s picture-perfect when it isn’t. At least everything’s status quo for now, and I just had the best night of my life. That’s something positive to focus on.”
She brushed a kiss over his mouth and they climbed out of the car. Bags in hand, they walked back into the house to familiar noises inside.
Jessie ran through the front hall, her cell phone pinned to her ear and Seth right behind her.
“Remember to keep your door open,” her father yelled from the kitchen as the duo ran up the stairs to Jessie’s room.
Jessie barely acknowledged Hunter and Molly as she passed.
“Think she even knew we were gone?” Molly asked Hunter.
He glanced up the long flight of stairs where the teens had disappeared.
“Nah,” they said at the same time, laughing.
Laughter was something that had marked their night together, a light happiness he’d rarely felt in his lifetime.
Hunter placed their luggage by the stairs. “I’ll bring yours up in a few minutes,” he promised.
“I can do it. I just want to let everyone know we’re back.” She strode toward the kitchen, Hunter right behind her. “Hello?” Molly called out.
Nobody answered, but as they walked closer, Hunter heard whispered voices from the kitchen.
“Dad?” Molly called.
“In here.” The general’s voice was subdued.
“I wonder what’s going on,” Molly said.
Hunter followed her into the sunlit kitchen and glanced at the people sitting around the table.
He took in the problem at the same time Molly spoke, her voice filled with disbelief. “Mom?”
“Molly, darling!” The brunette Hunter had seen last year rose from her chair and stepped toward her shocked daughter.
In her expensive, cream-colored designer suit, she looked out of place in the homey family kitchen.
“What are you doing here?” Molly asked.
“Is that any way to greet your mother?” The woman reached out to touch Molly’s shoulder.
Molly twisted herself out of reach. “What happened to France?”
“London.”
“It’s all the same to me since we don’t hear from you wherever you are. Really, Mother, what are you doing here now?” Molly asked, her disdain and bored tone a far cry from the woman who’d searched her whole life for her parent’s attention and approval.
Maybe finding her father and gaining his acceptance had wiped out the need for her mother’s. Or maybe this cool “I don’t care” facade was a front and the hurt was still there, real and raw inside her. Since that was more likely the case, Hunter knew he ought to be doubly grateful for last night, because Molly’s mother’s arrival would destroy any semblance of good times.
“I heard about Frank’s troubles and I thought you might need me,” her mother said.
Molly narrowed her gaze. “The news traveled to London? Oh, wait. Let me guess. Baron Von What’s His Name caught on to your husband-hunting game and dumped you, leaving you with no choice but to return to the States to regroup?”
Her mother pursed her lips. “Molly, this attitude really isn’t like you.”