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DowninFlames

ISBN978-1-60592-118-1

ALLRIGHTSRESERVED

DowninFlamesCopyright2010SarahBallance

CoverArtbyFionaJayde

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any existing means
withoutwrittenpermissionfromthepublisher.ContactNobleRomancePublishing,LLC
atPOBox467423,Atlanta,GA31146.

Thisbookisaworkoffictionandanyresemblancetopersons,livingordead,oractual
eventsispurelycoincidental.Thecharactersareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationand
usedfictitiously.

BookBlurb

WhenJackGellarreturnstoJeffersonHeightsafterfivelongyearsandanunforgettable
betrayal,ishisappearancethelastthingMollyColemanneedsinhertragedy-strickenlife
…orthefirst?

Mollyjustlostherentirefamily,andnowherhomeandbusinessarebothontheline.An
unexpectedencounterwiththeonemanwhocanputthepiecesbacktogetherleavesher
reeling,forhecanjustaseasilydestroywhatlittleshehasleft.Jackhasalottoproveto
winherback,butwhenalapseinjudgmentturnsintoanultimatumhecan’trefuse,will
hischoicebringthemtogetherortearthemapartforgood?

ChapterOne

“Makeitblack,please.”

ThefamiliarmalevoicetorethroughMollyColemanwithaphysicalforce.Evenasshe
turnedaway,prayingherlonghairwouldkeepheridentityhidden,hiseyessetfiretoher.
Sensationsfoughttheirwaytotheforefrontofhermind—warmth,lust,anger.Definitely
anger.

Mollycouldn’tbegintoguesswhatbroughthimbacktoJeffersonHeightsafterfivelong
years.Butwhateverthereason,sheknewonething—assureashestoodthere,JackGellar
wouldturnherfragileworldupsidedown.

Again.

Shestoleglancesashetookhiscoffeeandsteppedawayfromthecountertoachorusof
recognition,lowmurmurstitteringthroughthecrowd.Shecursedherselfforstaringafter
him,butwatchinghimmaneuverthrougharoomwasanaddictioninitself.Hislonglegs
carried him effortlessly; his faded vintage tee clung sinfully to every carved muscle as
they flexed beneath the thin fabric. As he moved, he held the rapt attention of every
womaninsight.NotthatMollynoticed.

“Well, hello, stranger.” Lacey Austin drawled a greeting from behind the counter. The
feistyblonde,arecenttransplantfromtheDeepSouth,hadbeeninJeffersonHeightsfor
oversixmonths,yetstillmanagedtoturnheadswherevershewent.Althoughthey’donly
known one another for a short while, Lacy had been there for Molly during the most

difficult time in her life, quietly picking up the pieces after her grandparents death and
tryingtokeeptheirfarmandhersmallgreenhouseafloatbyherself.IfshediscountedJack
—andboy,didsheever—LaceywasbyfarthebestfriendMollyeverhad.

Frustrated, Molly scowled at Jack’s retreating form and tried not to notice the delicious
cadence of his body in motion. The Monday morning traffic filled the small cafe to the
walls, and as he glided through the room, he somehow managed to brush against every
pair of breasts he passed. Not that Jack Gellar being surrounded by a crowd of women
countedasnews.Whocouldblamethem?Hisassinthosejeansbelongedonabillboard.
She’dliketoseetherestofhimhangingfromoneaswell.

“If his head gets any bigger he won’t make it back through the door.” Molly trailed her
fingertips through her hair—not to smooth it, she told herself, because it didn’t matter
whatshelookedlikeforhim.ShestoleanotherglimpseofJackoutofthecornerofher
eye and tingled from head to toe. She wondered against her own stubborn will just how
muchoftheoldJackremainedinthesmolderinghotvisionthatjustwalkedbackintoher
life.None,shedecided.Noonecouldlookatthatbodyandthink

“friend”—notevenher,andespeciallynotafterwhathe’ddone.

“Okay,whatdoyouknow?”Lacey’sgreeneyesglittered,followinghimmovebymove,
just like every other feminine pair in the room. She leaned over the counter as if there
couldbeanysemblanceofintimacyinthepackedcoffeehouse,readyforthescoop.

“Consideryourselfluckythatyouhaven’talreadymet,”Mollysaid,mentallypinchingoff
thefewmemoriesofhimshecouldhandlefromsomanyshe’dlockedaway.“Jackwas
thequintessentialboynextdoor.Wegrewuptogether.”Mollystoppedshortoftellingher
therest—abouthowtheydriftedapartandhowhe’dcrudelytriedtobringthemtogether
again. A flush crept up her cheeks at the unwelcome memory of her so-called date with
Jack Gellar, the legendary playboy of Jefferson Heights. Before he left town five years
ago, he could have had any woman he wanted with a mere crook of his finger. And if
rumorcouldbetrusted,he’dactuallyhadmostofthem.Allbutone,anyway.

“Well, honey, that’s not all ya’ll did together for you to call him a jerk.” Lacey cast
another appreciative glance in Jack’s direction. “Lucky girl!” She exaggerated fanning
herselfwithastackofnapkinsbeforetuckingtheminadispenser.

“Wedidn’tdoanythingtogether.”Mollysnorted.“Seemsthatwastheproblem.Hetook
me to the park outside of town, and when I found out his idea of stargazing involved
randomactsofnudity,Itoldhimtogetlost.”

Lacey’seyesgrewwide.“Sowhathappened?”

Mollyshrugged.“Hegotlost.HeleftmethereandIhadtowalkafewmileshomeinthe
middle of the night.” Angry, bitter emotions flared as she remembered the moment she
realized his intentions. At first, he’d just stared at her, but in the next instant he’d been
backinhistruck,roaringdownthehighwaybeforeshehadthechancetoshoothimthe
firstlookinhistorythatactuallydidkill.Lacey’smouthfellopen.“Youcan’tbeserious!I
can’tbelieveyounevertoldmeabouthim!”HergazedartedtoJack.“Lookatthat,”she

hissedloyally.“Hemusthaveevery20-somethingwomaninheredroolingoverhim!”

Lacey nailed him on that one. The small café was packed with fluttering eyelashes and
womenpantinglikedogs,andtheirtailsprobablycouldn’thavewaggedanyharderifhe
handed out bowls of kibble. Molly wondered how many of them he’d slept with, then
immediately regretted the thought when a curvy blonde joined him at the table. Carla –
theonlywomanintownwhosereputationrivaledJack’s

“Obviously frat life didn’t change him for the better.” She muttered the words with
sarcasm, cursing the heat that slid from her face down into her chest. She tried resisting
theurgetolookathimagain,butstoleanotherglanceinspiteofherself.Tall,dark,and
undeniablyattractive,hewasthekindofmanwhomadeawomanshudderwithlonging.
She’d never admit it, but she’d thought of him way too often over the years—and not
alwaysinthenegativelighthesorichlydeserved.Theunfortunatetruthwasnomanhad
ever gotten to her the way he had. She’d caught herself wondering “what if” so many
times,buttheoddsofaguylikehimsettlingdownwerenexttonothing.

LaceyrangupanothercustomerandscootedbackovertoMolly.“Idon’tknowhowyou
managedtoturnthatonedown.”Shegiggled,loyaltyapparentlyforgotten.Mollysighed.
Neither did she. He’d caught her off guard five years ago, dousing any chance of a
renewed friendship with an expectation of sex she simply hadn’t seen coming. Her
rejection was automatic from shock; it came without consideration of her reckless
attractiontohim.Andinspiteofwhathe’ddone,shewantedhimmorenowthanshehad
even then, but she’d be damned if she would admit it. Not to Lacey, not to herself, and
certainlynottoJackGellar.

Jacksippedhiscoffee,wincingatthestingofthehotliquid,andnoddedabsentlyinthe
directionoftheblondewho’dsettledinnexttohimuninvited.Casey?Candy?Hethought
brieflybutcouldn’trememberhername,notthathereallycaredto.Hehadknownherfor
years,andherstaleconversationdronedonasboringnowasithadbeenthen.Hehadno
ideawhatshewastalkingabout,butfromthewayshepurredandprowledaroundhimshe
leftlittledoubtaboutwhatshewanted,butJackwasn’tinterestedinrelievingoldtimes.
Not that her obviously “enhanced” rack wasn’t interesting, but he only had eyes for one
woman.

MollyColeman.

Jack recognized her instantly, a pang filling his heart when he saw her sitting at the
counter. She had her back to him now, her long brown hair falling in waves, recklessly
teasinghissenses.Streaksofcandiedgoldhighlightscurvedthroughhermane,practically
beggingforthestrokeofhishands.Hewantedtotouchherinawayhe’dneverwanteda
womanbefore,and,asluckwouldhaveit,shewastheonewomanhecouldn’thave.

He’dearnedhisreputationinhighschool,beddingmorethanhisshareofgirls,butMolly
hadalwaysbeendifferent.Heflushedatthememoryofthenighthespedaway,leaving
herstandingonthegravelinhisdust.Thelookonherfacehauntedhim,evenashe’dleft
sleepyJeffersonHeightsforcollegeontheEastCoast.Theplayboyhadgottenapairof
financedegreesandhadsettleddown.

Moreimportantly,he’dgrownupoverthepastfiveyears,buthewasn’tsurprisedtofind
his reputation alive and well in his hometown. That much was obvious from the hushed
conversationsurroundinghim.

ThecoffeeshopwastheonlyoneonMainStreet,atraittypicalofthefewonehorsetowns
that dotted the farming region of the Midwest. In what stood as either a tribute to small
townlifeoranutterlackofcreativity,thewoodensignacrossthestorefrontsimplyread
“Coffee.” In either case, the place was packed. He hadn’t expected to run into Molly so
soon after his return, but it appeared the entire town started the day in the creaky old
building.

Technically, of course, he hadn’t run into her yet. Her back remained to him, her rigid
form a roadblock to any hospitality he might hope for while she chatted with the lively
blonde who’d handed him his coffee—his fourth cup of the day. Still, even after fifteen
hoursontheroad,Jackfeltmorealivethanhehadinyears.Afteralongandutterlydark
nighthadgivenhimplentyoftimetothink,thesunhadcrestedbrilliantlyinhisrearview
withoutasinglebuildingtoscarthestreaksofpinkandorangelightingthesky.Theearly
summerairpeltinghimthroughtheopenwindowshadsmellednotofsmogbutofearth.
Ultimately,ithadledhimhome.StraighttoMolly.

BeforehemovedtoJeffersonHeights,he’dcarriedthestigmaofbadtimeswhereverhe
went,histatteredclothingadeadgiveawayhewasn’tliketherestofthekids.Butneither
was Molly. A tomboy to the hilt at seven years old, she’d never judged him or looked
downonhim.Wideeyesshining,she’dsimplybefriendedhimwithoutqualification,and
forthefirsttimeinhisyounglife,he’dmanagedtoescapehisbrokenpast.Heeyedher
fromacrosstheroom,notsurprisedbyherinitialreactiontoavoidhim.He’dhavetobe
insanetohopeforanythingmoreafterwhathe’ddonetoher,butinanoddsortofway,
thewholedamnednighthadchangedhimforthebetter.Fallinginlovewoulddothattoa
person,hemused,butthethoughtsgrazinghismindashewatchedhernowhadprecious
littletodowithlove.

Hewantedher,plainandsimple.Wantedtotouchher—hell,he’dspentfiveyearsthinking
ofallthewayshewantedtotouchtoher,onlytolearnnowthathismemoriesdidn’tdo
herjustice.Unnervinglysexyinanaturalsortofway,casualandcarefree,shedidn’thave
topaintherselfbeautiful.Shejustwas.And,inspiteofhimself,hehadnowayofresisting
her.Notthen,andfromthelooksofher,notnow.

The blonde chose that moment to drape herself across his shoulder and lean into him,
interrupting his thoughts and dragging him back to the present. Molly picked the same
splitsecond—justasthewoman’stoo-pinklipsbegantoblowunwantedpromisesinhis
ear and her ridiculously long fingernails started to trace a path down his arm—to turn
around.

Molly’sglarespearedhimfromclearacrosstheroom,andhisheartplungedintotheworn
floorbeneathhisfeet.

Mollyshouldn’thavebeenshockedtoseeCarladrapedalloverJack.Smalltownsheldno
secrets,andCarlaalwayshadathingforhim.They’dbeenoutafewtimesonthoseso-

called dates of his in high school, and the torch obviously burned bright, even after so
manyyears.Carlaheldalotoftorchesforalotofmen,however,andherreputationasa
homewreckerwaswelldeserved.

Jackstood,brushingCarlaoffinaheap,andbegantocutthroughthemazeofpeopleand
chairs,clearlyheadedinMolly’sdirection.

“Ihavetogo,Lace.”Shemutteredthewords,breakingforthedoorbeforeJackcouldget
throughthecrowd.Shehadherpride.Herworldwasalreadyfallingdownaroundher,and
damnedifJackGellarwasn’tpoisedtobethefinalblow.

ChapterTwo

“Molly!”Frombehindher,Jackcalledhernameinabreathlesswaythatremindedherof
thesextheyhadn’thad.

She willed herself to disappear. No such luck. It wasn’t as if she’d actually be able to
climbintohertruckandroaroffbeforehecaughther,buttheironyofthethoughtlefther
withanoddsenseofsatisfaction.

“Molly!”

ThegravelcrunchedasJackjoggedpasther,swingingaroundinherpathtocutheroff.
Althoughthesunstillhunglowinthemorningsky,thesummerheathadalreadysettled
in.Jack’sshirt,dampenedbythehumidity,clungtoeverymuscle,andshesilentlycursed
thetemptationofhisrockhardphysique.

“Hey.” Jack breathed the word, walking backward with rapid steps to stay ahead of her
stampede.

Mollydidn’tletup.She’drunhimdownifshehadto.Notthatsheactuallycould,butthe
ideaofendingupinatangledheapwithhimwasn’tallbad.Properlyexecuted,shecould
pinakneeinhisgroin,maybeanelbow.Ofcourse,shecouldthinkofafewotherpartsof
herbodyshe’dliketopositionthereaswell.

“Jack, how have you been?” She kept her voice even, but on the inside she glowered.
Seeing him now in the flesh, with that ridiculous pleading look in his eyes, sent wicked
passioncurlingthroughher.

“IguessIoweyouanapology.”Heflashedadeliciouslycrookedgrin.Mollyfoughtthe
urgetotasteit.Sheimaginedslidinghertongueintohismouth,suckingandnibblingat
hislips,feelingthosestrongarmsholdherclose.

“For what?” She couldn’t let him off that easy. She was going to make him say it. He
stared at her as if she should have known, with no explanation required. “For ditching
you.”

Sheblinkedathim.Well,hell,he’dsaidit.Hadshereallywaitedfiveyearsforthat?

“Thanks.”Shesteppedaroundhimandheadedforhertruck.

“Molly,pleasewait.”

Something in his voice stopped her in her tracks. She hesitated, bracing herself, before
turningtofacehim.Theemotioninhiseyespouredintoher,erodingthehardenededges
ofhersoul.ForamomentshesawtheoldJackinfrontofher.

“Thatdidn’tcomeoutright,”hesaid,hisvoicesofter.Tender,even.“WhatcanIsay?It
sucked.I’vethoughtaboutwhatIdidtoyoueverysingledayforthelastfiveyears,andin
allofthistimeIstillhaven’tcomeupwithagoodwaytosayI’msorry.”Mollystaredat
him,speechless.Someincorrigiblepartofherheartcaved,takingtherestofherstubborn
pridedownwithit.

“You’vethoughtofmeeverydayforthepastfiveyears?”Sheangledtowardhim,trying
toavoidthesun-drenchedflecksofgoldflickeringinhishazeleyes,resistingtheurgeto
coaxawaytheflopofhairthatbrushedthebridgeofhisnose.

“Yes,Molly.”Sincerityrakedhisvoice,unexpectedandnotentirelyunpleasant.Couldshe
believehim?Didsheevenwantto?

Hetookastepforward,lininghisbodyupwithhersandcockinghisheadeversoslightly
inherdirection.Ifshelookeduptomeethiseyes,hislipswouldbejustabreathaway.

Itwouldbesoeasytofallagainsthishardbody,topressagainsthimandlethimenvelop
her.Shetriednottoimaginehimburyinghimselfinsideofher,fillingherinawaynoman
everhadbefore.Shedidn’twanttothinkaboutthewayheremotionswouldflailandhow
her fingers would claw helplessly at his glistening back as he thrust into her again and
again,sendingherscreamingovertheedge.Ordidshe?

Mollyliftedhereyestomeethis,leaningimperceptiblycloser.Herheartpoundedinher
chest.IfJackreallyspentthelastfiveyearsthinkingofher,thenshejusthadonethingto
say.

“Good.”Andwiththat,sheturnedherbackonhimandgotinthetruck.

*****

Molly paced up and down the aisles of her greenhouse, too lost in thought to do much
morethancastablankstareovertherowsofplants.Forthelastfewyearsshe’dgrown
flowers, fruits, and vegetables straight through the long Midwestern winters, earning a
respectablelivingbysellingthemfreshtothelocalmarketorbakingthemintohomemade
pies and pastries. Her respectable living, however, didn’t account for the overwhelming
financialburdensheinherited.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Her grandfather had been in the process of
replacing his old tractors with the best money could buy—the most efficient and largest
machines on the market—when her grandmother’s cancer diagnosis blindsided all of
them. Three months after they buried Bonnie, George was gone, too. Now, the modest
mortgage on the farm combined with the staggering amount owed on the equipment
provedtoomuchforMollytohandle.Thebankhadbeenmorethanlenient,withsomeof
the payments coming up on a year overdue, but they had a business to run too, and
generositycouldonlygosofar.

Mollyhadtriedtosellthenewtractors,butnooneelsecouldaffordthem,either.Tomake

matters worse, the land lay empty now with no chance of turning a profit. She was
sinking.Fast.

Finished with her walk-through, Molly let herself into the small, attached office and
pluckedtheradioon.Astackofpaperswaitedforher,buthermindlingeredonJack.

LastMollyheardhe’dgottenahighdollarjobofferinNewYorkduringhissenioryearof
college. Investment banking. She wouldn’t have guessed it, but when he left her she
learnedthehardwayshedidn’treallyknowhim.

She’dspentfiveyearsrememberinganeighteen-year-oldJackwithamixtureofangerand
longingandforthelifeofhershecouldn’tdecidewhichwasworse.Inthespaceofone
morning, however, she’d found one thing to be true: Parts of her body that hadn’t been
aliveinmonthsweresuddenlycoursingwithelectricityanddesire.Sheleanedbackinher
chair, closed her eyes, and tried desperately to get the man out of her head. Instead, she
foundherselffantasizingabouthishandsonher,roughonherskin,drivinghertolevelsof
pleasure she could only imagine. Memories of the kisses they shared five years ago
tangledwithdesiresofthepresent.Shecouldnearlyfeelhistouchasonesexykissafter
anothertrailedawickedpathdownherbody.ShesawJack,withthosesexydarklocksof
hair falling in his eyes and just the hint of stubble shading his jaw, gazing up at her
playfully from between her legs. That slow lazy grin of his would melt molasses in the
deadofwinter.Shecouldpracticallyseetheself-satisfiedsmilespillfromhislipsashe
tauntedherwithhisfingers,movingthemslowlyinandoutofherhot,wetbody.

“Yousurelookgood.”

Mollyjumpedandnearlytumbledoutofherseat,kickingthefilecabinetandsendinga
pileofpeatpotstotheground.

“What are you doing here?” A flush rose over her cheeks. “How long have you been
standingthere?”

Jack leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. His gaze ate her alive. It roamed
overeverycurveofherbodyandshesaidasilentprayerofthankstherewasnowayhe
could know how turned on she’d gotten with her thoughts of him. Her nipples betrayed
her,though,pressingagainstthethintanktop.Herbreathinggrewshallowwithaneedshe
didn’twant.

Damnit.Shehadtogethimoutoftherebeforeshemadeacompletefoolofherself.

Shegrappledwiththebestwaytopulloffsuchafeatwhenthefamiliarnotesofanold
lovesongfilledthesmalloffice.

Sheinhaledsharplyagainstthestabbingpainthemusicevoked.Thesoftmelodyrocked
her,bringingherbacktoawarmsummernightfromalifetimeago.Throughtheeyesofa
child,shecouldseehergrandparentsswayingtogetherontheporchafterdinnerwhileshe
andJackchasedfirefliesjustoutsideofthewarmglowoftheporchlight.Thefeelingsthat
rushed through her at the memory were gentle and warm and laced with sadness. When
hereyesmetJack’s,theawarenessofasharedpastfiredbetweenthem.

“Ithinkwehavesomelosttimetomakeupfor.”Withasoftlookfullofunderstanding,

JackreachedoutandtouchedMolly’sface.

Theintimategesturemeltedthelastofherdefensesandshesankagainsthim.Jacktook
herinhisarmswithouthesitation.Inanoddsortofway,hewasallshehadleftfromthe
safety and warmth of her childhood. Her resolve crumbled as Jack pulled her close,
murmuring “I heard about your grandparents. I miss them, too,” in her hair. The tears
came,then,andMollyclungtoJackwithallshehad.Hisarmswerestrongandsteady,she
apuddleofsobbingmush,butheenvelopedherandheldher,wordlessly,whilesheletgo.

Thestressofthelastyearcrumpledoverher.Molly’seyesranalloverthethinfabricof
Jack’steeshirt,butheheldherasshecriedagainsthim.

“I’msorry,”shesaidwithasniffle,breakingthelongsilence.

“Forwhat?”Hisvoicewastender.

“Forthat.”Mollyliftedherheadsohecouldseethewetspotthatcoveredhischest.

“Geez, woman. You’ve ruined my favorite shirt.” Jack’s eyes twinkled—impishly, but
laced with a sadness she understood too well. He stepped away from her and pulled the
wetshirtoverhishead.Handingittoher,hegrinnedandasked“Areweevennow?”

She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss him. And if not for her runny nose and
puffyeyes,shemighthavedonejustthat.Shesettledforanuncertainsmile.

“Okay,Gellar.Truce.”Mollywavedhisshirtinsurrender,hereyesdrawninexplicablyto
thedarktrailofhairleadingintothewaistbandofhisjeans.

“So we’re friends again?” Jack plucked the shirt from Molly’s grasp and tucked the end
intohisbackpocket.Howamancouldlooksosexywithawet,snottyshirthangingfrom
hisass,Mollydidn’tknow.

“I’lltakethatasayes.”Jackleanedcloseandtippedhisfacetowardhers.Mollylooked
up at him just as their lips met in an impossibly soft kiss that nearly brought her to her
knees. He tasted raw, salty with sweat, and deliciously warm. He most certainly did not
tastelikeafriend.

Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,shedidn’tfeelalone.Shecouldn’tdenythefirebetween
them, but one thing had suddenly become perfectly clear. There was no chance in hell
she’dgetoutofthisifshedidn’tdosomething.Fast.

ChapterThree

“Ineedsomewheretostay.”

Againstherbetterjudgment,MollyhadinvitedJackintothehouse.Nowhelookedvery
muchathomeinherkitchen,leaningagainstthecabinetsasifhebelongedthere.

“Youwhat?”Mollyregardedhimwithuttershock.Herjawmightwellhavebeenonthe
floor,butshewastoostunnedtoknowthedifference.

Jack shrugged and gave her a grin. “The old homestead is a little, uh, drafty.” Molly
snorted.IfnotforanoldtreegrowingatthefrontcornerofJack’sburneddownhouse,it

would be hard to tell where the dwelling had once stood. “You’re staying in Jefferson
Heights?”

“Yes,I’mstaying.”

“WhathappenedtoNewYork?”

“Howdidyouknowaboutthat?”

Mollyignoredhisquestion.Shetriedtoignoreherspinningheadandtheheatthatfilled
hertothecore,andthewayeveryinchofherlongedtobetangledwitheveryinchofhim.
Shewasinthemiddleofwonderinghowmanyinchestherewere,exactly,whentheback
door of the farmhouse slammed open and shut again. Lacey breezed into the sunny
kitchen.

“Sorry I’m late, Molly!” she drawled, then “Oh!” Molly didn’t miss Lacey’s knowing
look,andsheheldlittledoubtinhermindJackwasprivytoitaswell.

“AmIinterruptingsomething?”Lacey’seyesglitteredasshetookalong,lazyvisualtour
ofJack’sbareupperhalf.“Jack,isn’tit?”Mollycouldhavequitehappilydisappearedinto
the floor. Jack saw her talking to Lacey that morning. She could have gotten his name
fromalmostanyone,butLacey’sindulgenttoneandtheheatofafierceblushgaveMolly
away.

“Nicetoseeyouagain,Lacey,”hesaid,hiswarmgazedriftingdowntothenametagshe
stillwore.JackstillheldtheslightlyamusedexpressionandkillergrinthatleftMollyon
thevergeoflosingcontrol.“Iwasjustabouttograbashower.Okaywithyou,Molly?”

“Um, okay.” Molly’s head spun, and Lacey’s raised brows didn’t do much to help. Had
MollysomehowjustagreedtoletJackstaythere?Withher?

Jack’sfeethadn’tevendisappearedupthestairsbeforeLaceydugin.“DoIevenneedto
askwhyhe’sherehalfnakedandinneedofashower,ordoIalreadyknow?”

“Nothinghappened,”Mollyinsisted.

“Butyouwantitto!”Laceycountered,wearingaknowingsmile.

“Jackdumpedme,remember?”

“Jack is in your shower. I don’t know if you’ve forgiven him or are planning to punish
him,butI’mbettingeitherwayyou’llbothbeintherewhenit’soverwith.”Thethought
ofshoweringwithJacksentathrillbarrelingthroughMolly,wreckinghavoconhermost
sensitivespots.“We’rejustfriends,”shesaid,nottrustingherselftosaymore.

Instead, she started pulling cold cuts from the refrigerator. Lacey stared at her for a few
secondsbeforesighingandgrabbingafewfreshslicesofbreadfromthebreadbox.

Thetwofriendshadaneasyroutine.Mollypoppedintothecoffeeshopeachmorningto
deliverpilesoffreshpastriesandbakedgoodsthatinevitablysoldoutbynoon.Whenthe
coffeeshopclosedshortlythereafter,LaceyheadedovertoMolly’sforalatelunchbefore
working the rest of the day at the greenhouse. But routine or not, this time something
seemeddifferent.Thistime,averysexy,verynakedmanstoodinMolly’sshower.

LaceytookabiteofhersandwichandpinnedaquestioninglookonMolly.

“He’sstayinghere.”Molly’sconfessioncamebeforeLaceycouldsayaword.

“What?”Laceylosthergriponthesandwich.Itdroppedtothetableandfellapart.

“He’sgoingtostayherewithme.Intheotherbedroom.Hisplaceis,um,drafty.”Molly
stammered,strugglingtofinishasentence.“Theplacenextdoorthatburneddown.That’s
his.”

Laceyraisedhereyebrows.

“Youreyebrowsmightstaythatwayifyoukeepdoingthat.”

“Honey,Iimagineheknewitwas‘drafty’beforeherolledbackintotown.”Laceyrolled
hereyes.

“Whatelsecanhedo?Stayatahotel?”JeffersonHeightsdidn’tboastasingleroomfor
rent.

Laceyshrugged.“Wheredidhestayafterthefire?”

“He stayed with the Manning family for a couple of years, but he didn’t do much more
thansleepthere.Helosthiswholefamilyinthefire,andheprettymuchshutdownafter
that. We hadn’t spoken in years when it happened—he sort of drifted away for some
reason as we got older—but rumor has it he’d snuck out that night and always blamed
himselffornotbeingtheretosavethem.”

“Oh,that’sterrible!”Lacey’swarmeyesfilledwithsympathy.

“Yes,itis.”Molly’sownhearttuggedwiththememory.“Ofcourse,Jackdealtwiththe
painbysleepingwitheverygirlintown.”

“Except one,” Lacey said, piecing her demolished sandwich back together before taking
anotherbigbite.

“Yeah,whatwasIthinking?”Mollylookedtotheceilingandwonderedwhichpartofhis
bodyJackrubbedsoapoveratthemoment.

Lacey faced her, not letting go of her serious expression. “No, seriously, what were you
thinking?Therearesomemajorsparksflyingbetweenthetwoofyou.”HowcouldMolly
begin to explain her feelings? Yesterday finding the words might have been easier.
Yesterdaythehurtwaswhatsherememberedmost—thehurtoflosinghimthefirsttime
andtheangerofhimleavingherbehind.Todayallshesawweretheplayfuleyesofher
former best friend deliciously packaged in the body of a man. A body that put the
eighteen-year-oldJacktoshame,notthathehadn’tbeensomethingtolookateventhen.
“Hemeantsomethingtome,”shesaidfinally.Maybehestilldoes.

“You had feelings for him so you didn’t sleep with him?” Lacey’s southern drawl made
thenotionsoundmoreridiculousthanitwas.

“Sortof.”Mollyblushed.

Laceyrolledhereyes.“Honey,Iknowyou’renotthatexperienced,butletmegiveyoua

tip.You’resupposedtolikethembeforeyousleepwiththem.”Likehim?Ilovedhim. “I
didn’twanttobejustanotheroneofhisonenightstands.”

“Youwouldn’thavebeen.”Jack’svoicewrappedaroundher—gentle,unexpected,andfar
toocloseforcomfort.

Cursingherselfforsittingwithherbacktothestairs,Mollyspunaroundinherchairtosee
Jack standing behind her, still wet from his shower. Wearing absolutely nothing but a
towel.

Shewonderedjusthowmuchheheard.Sheturnedbackquickly,ahotflushrushingtoher
cheeks.SheglaredatLacey,whofeignedaninnocentsmile.

“Ileftmyclothesinmytruck,”hesaidascasuallyasifhe’ddroppedhiskeys.

“I’llgetthemforyou,”Laceysaidwithawink.“Whereisit?”

“It’sontheothersideofthegreenhouse.Ineedthebluesuitbag,”headded.

“I’ll take my time.” Lacey smiled and slipped through the back door. Molly didn’t miss
thefactthatshetookherlunchwithher.

“Molly.”Jack’svoicewassoftbehindher.

Shedidn’tturnaround.

“Youwerenevergoingtobeaonenightstand.”

“You’re right,” she said, facing him. “I turned you down.” Jack’s serious expression
meltedintoagrin,andMollynearlymeltedalongwithit.“WhatImeantwasthatIwant
morefromyouthanaonenightstand.”Want.Presenttense.

“Jack,thatwasalongtimeago.”

“Molly,thisisrightnow.”Hereachedforherandsweptalong,wavystrandofhairfrom
her face, resting his hand on the side of her head. His eyes held a devilish warmth, the
flamesofaslowheatflickeringintheirchocolatedepths.Afewwetlocksofhairdrifted
forwardtocoverhiseyesasheleaneddowntoclosethedistancebetweenthem.

Hebrushedherlipswithhis,andthenpulledherbottomlipwithhisteeth,teasingher.

“Youcouldnever,everbeaonenightstand,”hewhispered,“andI’mnotgoinganywhere
untilIproveit.”

Molly’sbodyheatedwithanticipationbuthermindheldherback.Couldshereallytrust
him? Common sense told her she should back away, but instead she found her fingers
tracing a path down his broad chest to his tight stomach, coming dangerously close to
followingthatdeliciouslineofhairunderhisbellybuttontowhereveritmightlead.

Heaven.Shewassureofit.

“Jack.” She breathed his name, her body weak with desire. It was all the invitation he
needed. He deftly slid his hand underneath Molly’s tank top, cupping one breast with a
maddening gentleness. Molly gasped, and then lost her breath to another soft kiss while
Jack’sfingersslowlytrailedbackandforthagainstherrockhardnipple.Shetrembled.

Amateur.No,virginwasmorelikeit.

The towel had to go. The cloth tented ridiculously, no match for the power of Jack’s
erection.Mollyhadthedistinctimpressionthehelplessnesswasaqualitythey—

sheandthetowel—shared.That,andtheywerebothwet.

“Can I take you upstairs?” Jack growled the words, his breath jagged in spite of the
languidmovementofhishandsonherbody.

Mollynodded,andthengaspedasJack’sstrongarmsliftedhereffortlessly.Shelinkedher
hands behind his neck and drank in the smell of soap and man, nearly dizzy with
anticipationashecarriedherupthestairs.

He headed straight for her room. The bed splayed soft and cool against her skin, a
tantalizingcontrasttoJack’sharnessandheat.

Andwhenhecametoher,Mollylostalltrackofhersenses.Jackseemeddeterminedto
taunt her with his torturously slow tasting of her body—from her lips to her neck and
finally, finally to the peaks of her breasts. The zing of his mouth crept hotly though the
fabric of her shirt, and Molly jerked at the thin pink cloth impatiently, freeing herself to
him.

Jackdrewthesensitivenippleintohismouth,suckingandlickinginonedeliciousmotion.
Molly cried out with pleasure and arched to him, feeling the naked heat of his length
againstherbarethigh.Herfingerswoundthroughhishairasheturnedhisattentionfrom
onebreasttotheother,expertlytoyingwithherasshemoanedbeneathhim.

Mollycouldfeelthedesirepouringfromherandknewshewasslickandwetwithliquid
heat.SheslidherlegsaroundJack’swaist,pullinghimcloserandcausinghimtogroan
whenshegrazedhisstrainingerection.

Jackpulledaway,puttinginchesbetweenthem

“Whereareyougoing?”Mollypanted,hervoiceheavy.

“Tolookatyou.”Hecastaseductive,appreciativeglanceatherquiveringform.

“Dammit,Molly,I’vebeenthinkingofnothingelseforyears.”Jack’srigidshaftbobbedin
agreement.Bythelooksofit,aonenightstanddidn’tseemlikesuchabadidea.

Mollycrawledtoherkneesandboldlypulledoffhermangledtop,fullybaringherselfto
him.Herbreaststingled,tightandheavyunderhissteadystare.Jackreachedoutandput
onehandoneachsideofherwaist,makinghershudderashesettledthemintohercurves.
Then slowly, so slowly, he moved them down to the waistband of her denim shorts.
Molly’sbreathcameinshallowpantsasheunfastenedthebuttonandzipper,pullingthe
material past the slope of her hips and down her trembling thighs until she, too, was
naked.

Jackletoutaslowbreath.

“Iwantyou.”Mollywhispered.

Jackpulledhertothebedandkissedherfiercely.Hisroughhandssqueezedthesoftcurve
ofherbottom.Sheclungtohimwildly,willingherbodytomoldwithhis.Theirtongues
tastedandswepttogetherinapassionthatleftherreeling.Jack’shandfoundherwetness
then,andMollygaspedwithpleasure.Histhumbcircledhernublazilywhiletwoskilled
fingers entered her, coaxing her closer and closer to orgasm with every wicked stroke.
Molly burned with need, willing her frantic body to slow down just as she wished for
nothingmorethantheultimaterelease.

“Doyouhaveprotection?”Hegasped.

“Me? No, I’ve never needed it.” Molly’s voice was ragged, her body on the edge of
blissfulindulgence.“You?”

“I don’t even have my pants,” Jack murmured, smiling through his kisses. Suddenly he
losthisrhythm.“Whatdoyoumeanyou’veneverneededit?”

“I’ve never done this before,” she said, relishing the hint of stubble on his strong jaw.
Exactlyassheimaginedhisjawwouldfeel.

“What?”Thefeelofstubbledisappeared,Jack’sexpressionofshocktakingitsplace.

“ButIwanttodoitnow.”Morethanyoucouldeverknow.Mollypulledhimbacktoher,
wrappingonehandaroundhisshaftandslidingherpalmupanddownseductively.

Jackmoaned.“You’renotconvincingmeofyourinexperience.”

“It just feels … right.” Only after she’d spoken the words out loud did she realize how
muchshemeantthem.

“It’s going to have to feel right later.” He shifted and groaned with regret. “I’ve never
wantedawomanthewayIwantyourightnow,butdamnedifwedon’thavetowait.”

Jack gently pushed her away, maneuvering his throbbing erection safely away from her
flesh. Then he descended upon her, tasting her glistening folds with the craze of a
madman.Hethrusthistongueintohersensitiveopeningandgrazedherpulsingsexwith
histeeth,allthewhiletwistingtheturgidpeaksofhernippleswithrelentlesspassion.

Ittookseconds,atmost.

Molly rocked her hips and called his name, more alive than she’d ever been in her life.
Wavesofpleasurewashedoverherwiththeferocityofastorm,leavinghershudderingin
awakeofunspeakableemotion.Jackcontinuedtolapather,hisnibblesjustastenderas
they’dbeenpassionateonlysecondsbefore.

Finally, gently, Jack’s lips found hers again, and Molly could taste herself in his hot
mouth. The move was erotic, seductive, and, although she was utterly spent, she
welcomedthetracesofastirringdeepinherbelly.

Jack’simpossiblehardnessnudgedatherthighandhemoanedatthecontact.Theirkisses
continued,lazyandexploring,andsheslidherhanddowntohisshaft.Thistimehedidn’t
resist.

TangiblesatisfactiondriftedoverMollyasshelayinJack’sarms.Heheldhercloseand

groaned as she stroked his full length, massaging the head as she went. Slick, hot fluid
seepedfromhim,andMollyinstinctivelybegantoincreaseherspeedwiththelubrication.

Within seconds, their tender kisses turned reckless and Jack’s body grew tense. A low
growlescapedhimjustasheexplodedintoaseriesoftremors.Heburiedhisfaceagainst
Molly’sneckandsworeunderhisbreath,breathingheavily.

“Isecondthat,”shesaid,“Whateveritmeant.”Butsheknewexactlywhatitmeant.

Oneofthemwouldhavetobuysomecondoms.

ChapterFour

ItwasthebestsexJackeverhadinhislife.Jackcrankedupthestereoandrelaxedagainst
thewornseat,steeringthetruckeasilytowardtown.Rowsofcornmergedalongsidethe
windows into one big, oddly comforting blur. Jack never realized how flat and gray the
citylookeduntilthebrilliantgreenfieldsandblazingblueskiesofthefarmlandfilledthe
horizon. Of course, the color hadn’t been the only thing he missed in Jefferson Heights.
LayingeyesonMollyhadbeenasuckerpunch.He’dbeenfoolinghimselfforfiveyears,
missingfartoomuch.

ThelastthinghewantedwastoleavethedeliciouslytangledheapheandMollyhadfound
themselvesinaftertheirmind-alteringencounter,buthe’dputinacalltothebankearlier.
Much to his surprise, he landed an interview. He didn’t have a reason to hope for a job
there—there had been no indication they were hiring—and Jefferson Heights wasn’t
exactlyahotbedforcareersinfinance.Hisoptionswerelimitedtothebankoracomplete
changeindirection;eitherwayhevowedtodoanythingnecessarytostayrightwherehe
was.

Orwherehehadbeenjustafewsweetmomentsbefore.

Jackswallowedagainsttheoppressivecollarofthedressshirthewore,wishinghecould
trade the business suit for his tee. But as uncomfortable as the wretched suit was, he
countedhisblessingsthatithadsurvivedthefourteen-hourtripinthebackofhistruck.

TheBankofJeffersonHeightswasanunassumingone-storybrickbuildinginthethickof
downtown—orthethinofit,rather.Jackshookhisheadatthehalfdozenbuildingsthat
made up the bulk of the business district, bemused at the fate of his hometown. The
passage of time had left it unfazed, innocent—just like Molly. She was a virgin. Sweet,
sweet Molly, with those hellacious curves and the most sinfully delicious lips he’d ever
tasted, was as pure as the day he left her. Well, maybe not. Hell, he’d hardly call her
innocentnow—notafterwhatshe’ddonetohim—butshewasstillavirgin.

Thethoughtrancirclesthroughhismind;hecouldn’tbelievehisluck.Heknewitwasa
doublestandardoftheworstkind,buttheideathatMollywouldbehisandhisalonefilled
himwithanentirelynewtypeofsatisfaction.Andinspiteofhissordidpast,he’dknown
the moment he kissed Molly five years ago she was meant to be his—a feeling that
persistedevenaftersherejectedfurtheradvances.Jackchoseaspotinthebackofthelot
andswunghimselfoutofthetruck.Theinstanthisbootshitthepavement,heatscorched
hisfeet.TheweatherseemedhotforJune,butJackknewhehadafeveroftheworst—or

perhaps the best—kind. As he entered the bank, he tried to will his stiffening groin into
submission. He fumbled with his tie in the hazy afternoon heat, feeling overdressed and
self-conscious, and wiped the sweat from his brow. A few fans and an outmatched air
conditionerwerenomatchfortheunseasonableweather.Jackfrowned.

“Mr. Gellar?” A plump woman Jack didn’t recognize trilled his name across the modest
lobby,causingthefewheadsintheroomtoswivelinhisdirection.Morethanonepairof
eyesappearedtolightwithrecognition.

Great, he thought. The old grapevine would be a live wire tonight. He followed the
woman and her gray-blue beehive hairdo down a short hall to the office of the bank
president.OldBlueannouncedhimatthedoorbeforebustlingpasthimwithaswooshof
heralarminglypurplefloraldress.Herindustrialheelshammeredthewoodenfloorasshe
walkedaway.

Jack’sexpressionmusthavebetrayedhisbemusement.ArthurCallahanrosefrombehind
hisdeskandheldouthishand.“She’ssomethingelse,isn’tshe?”Jackstuckouthishand
forafirmhandshake,wonderingbrieflyiftherewasanyhanky-pankygoingonbetween
ArthurandBlue.Hepushedthethoughtquicklyfromhishead,resistingashudder.Arthur
satdown,soJackdroppedintothechairacrossfromhim.

Hehadn’texpectedtofeeloverdressedinfrontofthebanker,butArthurworejeansanda
poloshirt.Hissilverhairwasneatlytrimmedandstrikingagainsttanskin.Jackhadthe
distinct impression the man didn’t spend much time behind his desk. In fact, Arthur
lookedmorelikeaTexasrancherthanaMidwesternbankpresident,downtotheStetson
hangingonthehatrackbythedoor.

“What can I do for you, boy?” Arthur’s deep voice made the space seem too small. His
largebodyhadthesameeffect.

JackeyedaphotographofayoungwomanonArthur’sdesk.Withastart,heremembered
thegirl’sname:AmyCallahan.He’dsleptwithArthur’sdaughterbackinhighschool.

“YourememberAmy?”Arthursteepledhisfingers,tappingthetipstogethermethodically,
andJackmethisheavygazewithtrepidation.

“OfcourseIdo,sir.Wewenttoschooltogether.”

“Yes,youcertainlydid.”

Jack squirmed and fidgeted with his tie, the noose around his neck tightening by the
minute. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I trust you’ve considered my
offer?”

“Yes, my boy, I have. If you want the job, it’s yours.” Jack was almost certain the
windowsshookwiththeman’sboomingbaritone,somuchsothathealmostdidn’thear
whathesaid.

“Excuseme?”

“The job is yours. I don’t need to sit behind this desk. Hell, boy, you’ve got more
educationthanIdo.You’refromgoodpeople.I’mgoingtokeepaneyeonyou,butwe’ve

got a system of checks and balances around here. You won’t be creeping off with the
vault,willyou?”Arthurjabbedashort,thickfingerinthedirectionofalargesafewhich
appearedtobeboltedtothefloorinthecorner.Thesetuplookedlikesomethingstraight
outofacartoon.

“No,sir,”Jackaffirmed,proudofhowhemanagedtosoundsureofhimself.He’dworked
ata—well,areal—bankforthelasttwoyears,andhe’dneededsecurityclearanceanda
backgroundchecktogetpastthelobby.Bycomparison,hewouldn’tbesurprisedtofind
the first national bank of Arthur sat guarded by little more than a pit bull and a fake
securitycamera.

“Whydon’tyougetsettledandcomeoninthemorning.We’llgoovereverythingthen.”
Arthur stood, dismissing Jack with a slap on the back and a smile. Jack rose, slightly
bewilderedbyArthur’scasualhiringpractices.Hetriednottogrinasheretracedhissteps
downthehallwayandintothelobby.Arthurhadn’texactlymadeitclearwhatJack’sjob
wouldentail,butJackcouldalreadytellfromhissurroundingshe’ddriftedfarfromWall
Street.Thetinylittlebankwouldn’tdomuchforhisresume,buthell,hewashome.

Evenbetter,heanticipatedMollywouldbetherewhenhegotback.Hecouldn’twaitto
taste her, to touch every inch of her sumptuous body and trace her incredible curves to
everydangerousplacetheyledhim.Helongedforthefeelofherlipsagainsthis,theway
her silky hair fell around her beautiful face in loose waves, the electric thrill that shot
throughhimwhenshelaynakedbeforehim.

The growing pressure in his pants was reminder enough he needed to stop at the drug
store.Jackglancedaroundanddidn’tseeone,sohehoppedinhistruckandheadedforthe
gasstationontheedgeoftown.

Heknewtheplacewell.Heusedtobetheirbestcustomer.

ChapterFive

Jack grabbed the biggest box of condoms on the shelf. Walking up to the counter of
Cooper’sConvenienceStorealmostkilledhim,especiallywhenhesawOldManCooper
perchedonhisstoollookingasifnotimehadpassed.

HisfacelitupwithrecognitionasJackapproachedhim,andaknowingsmilesplithisface
whenhesawtheboxinJack’shands.“Damnnearhadtoclosetheplacedownwhenyou
lefttown,boy.”

Jack hadn’t come that close to blushing in a long time. “I’m glad to see you pulled
through.”

Cooperlaughed.“Whereareyoustaying?”

“AttheColemanplace.I’mrentingaroomuntilIcangetsettledsomewhere.”

“Humph.” The old man eyed Jack’s purchase. “Looks like you’ll be getting settled into
something, alright.” But his eyes twinkled, softening his words. “Molly’s got her hands
fullrightnow.Don’tyougocausingheranymoregrief.”Awaveofprotectionslammed
intoJack’schestatthewarning.WasMollyinsomesortoftrouble?He’dheardaboutthe

lossofhergrandparents.Hehopedlikehellthatpainwasallshefaced.

*****

“So,didya’lldoit?”

“No, we didn’t do it.” She stared at the sloppy pile of liquefied pastry dough on her
kitchencounterandletloosewithanuncharacteristicstringofprofanity.

“Ithinkyou’regoingtohavetostartover.”

“I know!” Molly fought the urge to put her head in her hands and sob. Obviously she
couldn’tuseameasuringcupandthinkaboutJackatthesametime,andshehadamassof
unappetizinggooinfrontofhertoproveit.

“Youwantedto,though,didn’tyou?”

“Wantedtowhat?”

“Doit.”

Aglobofdoughslidoffthecounterandhitthefloor.Mollyclosedhereyesandcounted
toten.Sheneededtodeliverfivedozenmade-from-scratchbreakfastpastriestothecoffee
shopbeforesunrise,andafterhoursofworkshefoundherselfbackatsquareone.Atleast
shestillhadtheberriesLaceyspenttheafternoonprepping.Nevertheless,shehadanall-
nighteronherhands—andnotexactlytheoneshe’dbeendreamingofwhenshemanaged
toruinthedough.

Mollysighed.“Ihaven’twantedanythingsomuchinalongtime.”Laceyslippedoffher
apronandwalkedovertoherfriend.

“Talktome.What’sgoingon?You’veneverevenmentionedthisguy,andnowhe’sbeen
intownforlessthanadayandhe’sgotyouturnedinsideout.”

“I can’t explain it, Lace. I’ve been angry for so long, but I’ve missed him. Not the guy
wholeftmeonthesideoftheroad,”sheadded,noticingtheincredulouslookonLacey’s
face.“Theotherpartofhim.Hewasmybestfriendforyears.”

“Youdon’tneedtotakeashowerinthemiddleofthedayafterafewmomentsalonewith
me,”Laceysaid,atingeofamusementinhervoice.Mollysmiledweakly.“Idon’twantto
fallforhim.”

“Ithinkyoualreadyhave.”

“Hello, ladies!” Jack burst into the kitchen right on cue, his broad chest on tantalizing
display behind his unbuttoned shirt. A tie hung loose around his neck and a battered
baseballhatkeptthehairfromhiseyes.“Whatthehellisthat?”Hestoppedshortatthe
sightofthepastrydisaster.

”Thatisthereasonshecan’tplaywithyoutonight,”Laceysaid.Heflashedaquestioning
lookinMolly’sdirection.

“I have to cancel.” Molly tried not to notice how unbelievably sexy he looked, utterly
disheveledandboyishlyhandsome.

“Youcan’tpossiblypreferthatmessoverme!”Heavywithmockarrogance,Jack’svoice
didnothingtohidehisdisappointment.

“Oh,honey,”Laceyadmonished,“youmustnotknowHarlanTucker.Ifhemissesouton
hismorningpastrydeliveries,he’llfindsomeoneelsetosupplythecafebeforethedayis
out.”

“Thanks,Lace,”Mollysaiddryly.“Nopressure,huh?”

“CanIhelp?”Jackeyedthemesswithalookthatsuggestedhewouldn’tbemuchhelpat
all.

“Are you kidding? You’re the reason she ended up in that pile of goo to begin with!”
Laceylaughed.

JackmovedhiscuriouslookfromthemessbacktoMolly.Sheblushed.

“Really,I’llhandleit.Gohavesomefun.There’salwaystomorrow!”Shetriedtosound
unconcerned, but her voice carried an unnaturally high pitch she could only pray Jack
wouldn’tnotice.Hekeptherinthatquestioningstarebutdidn’tsayanything.

Jack looked from Molly to the mess on the counter and back again. Her moist eyes,
flushedface,andtremblinglipgaveheraway,butshedidahellofajobofnotlosingit.
Hestoodtornbetweenwantingtohelpherandwantingtodragherupstairs.Asmuchas
he’dlovetomakeherforgetaboutanythingbuthim,thelastthingheneededtodowas
causemoretrouble.

HisthoughtsturnedtoOldManCooper’swarningnottocauseheranymorepain.He’d
beenthinkingabouttheimplicationsnonstopeversinceheleftthestore.Andlookingat
hernow,adustingofflouracrosshernose,hisheartachedtoknowifhertroubleswere
greaterthanheknew.

Heclosedthedistancebetweenthemandplacedonehandonthesideofherhead,cupping
the smooth line of her jaw. He gently wiped a smear of flour from her cheek with his
thumb.

“Go,” she said. Her voice sounded a little too husky, reminded him a little too much of
sex. “I can’t have you here distracting me.” She looked up at him through thick, dark
lashes.

Wordlessly,Jackleaneddownandcoveredhermouthwithhis,pressingasoftkissagainst
herlipsasheinhaledhersweetscent.

Laceyclearedherthroat.“Whydon’tyoufollowme?YoucanmeetKeith,hangout,have
abeer.”

“IfMollyinsists,”Jacksaid,hismouthstillagainsthers.

“I’llwaitup,”Mollymurmured.

“Yeah,youdothat.”Jacksteppedback,regretfulbutgrinning.“Okay,Lacey,Isurrender.
Letmegochangemyclothes.”

*****

Jack didn’t have to follow Lacey very long to figure out the destination. Unless she
planned to take him clear out of town, it had to be Tuckey’s. Going out after dark in
Jefferson Heights almost certainly meant Tuckey’s—not much else stayed open. The
weeknight crowd packed the sprawling parking area. Music pulsed from inside the run-
downwalls.JackparkednexttoLaceyattheedgeofthelotandflungthedooropen.He
droppedtotheground,hisstomachrespondingtothesmellofburgerswithagrowl.

WhenLaceyclimbedoutofhercar,Jackgrinnedandasked“Theystillhavethoseburgers
here?”

Laceysmiled.“Thebest!”

Jack held the front door open for Lacey. She led him to a table in the corner and
introduced its occupant—a lanky blond man—as her boyfriend Keith. Keith eyed Jack
suspiciously.

“He came back to Jefferson Heights to reclaim Molly. Isn’t that so romantic?” Lacy
motionedforJacktosit.“Keithmovedhereacoupleofyearsagotoworkonhisuncle’s
farm.Hisdadwantedhimtoputonasuitandjointhefamilybusiness,butitjustwasn’t
Keith’sthing.Thisplaceistheperfectescapefromthecity!”

“Tellmeaboutit.”Jackfrowned.“Who’syouruncle,man?”

“ThomasSutton.SuttonFarms.”

Jackknewthefamilywell.Hestartedtoaskhowtheyweredoing,butKeithcontinued.

“Where’sMolly?”

“Working. She had a mishap and threw us both out.” Lacey giggled and nestled into
Keith’s lap. A pang shot through Jack at the comfortable intimacy between the two of
them.

“Gladwecankeepyoucompany,Jack.”Keithfinallysmiled.“Don’tworry;I’llstealmy
girlawayinalittlewhile.Youwon’tbotherus.”

“I could definitely go for a burger.” Jack swung an empty chair around, straddling it
backwards. Keith waved toward the bar and within moments a waitress showed up and
ploppedthreebeerbottlesonthetable.Shepulledapenandpadfromherpocketwithout
oncereleasingJackfromanappraisingstare.

“Do I need to check your ID?” The waitress cooed over him, her gaze spilling over his
fadedrockbandteeandwornjeans.

“No need, Lila,” Lacey said. “This is Jack. He’s staying with Molly.” Lila’s expression
narrowedjustabitandshesighed.“Thegoodonesarealwaystaken.”

“Whosayshe’sanygood?”Laceysaid,andthengiggledatJack’smockindignation.

“It’d be a crying shame if he wasn’t!” Lila fanned herself with her order pad and jotted
downtheirorders.“Letmegetthisin.Nicetomeetyou,Jack.”

“You,too,Lila.”

KeithtookalongswallowfromhisbottleandeyedJack.“Doyoualwayshavethismuch
troublewithwomen?”

“Honey, you have no idea!” Lacey supplied the answer, but Jack couldn’t have said it
betterhimself.

ThefoodwaseverybitasgoodasJackremembered.Thegiantgreasycheeseburgerwitha
pileofhomecutfriesontheplategavehimsomethingtofocusonotherthanMolly.Ashe
ate he kept a casual eye on Keith and Lacey, intrigued by the interaction between the
bouncy blonde and the brooding Keith. They appeared to be polar opposites but
comfortable with one another. Keith never took his eyes off of his girlfriend, and Jack
longedtoshowMollyshecouldbelovedlikethat.Hell,shealreadywas.

Truetohisword,KeithletLaceypullhimawayfromthetableassoonasthey’dpolished
off their meal. Jack couldn’t help but notice the way the couple danced slowly in the
cornertoasongonlytheycouldhear.Therestoftheplace,meanwhile,swelledwiththe
upbeat notes of an old song Jack used to love. His fingers tapped on the table as he sat
alonewithhisdrink,wonderingforalltheworldwhyhedidn’tmakearunforMolly’s.

Hethoughtofherhot,sweetlittlebodyandhowshe’drespondedsowillinglytohim.The
sceneranrampantthroughhismind—partmemory,partfantasy—whensomeonedropped
intothechairacrossfromhim.

Carla. He suddenly remembered her name—the woman falling over him at the coffee
shop.Shedressedtoworkthestreetsinashirtcutsolowhernipplesnearlyspilledout—a
visualassaulthecouldhavelivedwithout.Herbarebellybridgedthespacebetweenthe
scrapoffabricsheobviouslyconsideredashirtandanequallyinadequatepiecethatdid
littletocoverthegoods.Notthathewasbuying.

“Jack,sogoodtoseeyouagain.”Smokespilledfromhermouth,dottinghervoicewitha
coarsenesshefoundrepulsive.“Youwantsomecompany?”

“No,thanks.”

“Comeon,Jack.Icanmakeyouforgetyourtroubles.”Shewriggledtowardhim,flicking
acigaretteagainstthebatteredtable.

“You’regoingtostartafire.”Jackeyedtheashesonthewoodsurface.

“That’swhatI’mcountingon,baby.”

Jackchokedonherinnuendo,barelystoppinghimselffromherwithamouthfulofbeer.
Hewipedhismouthagainsthisforearm.Howcouldhehaveeversleptwithher?Hetried
toconsolehimselfwiththeknowledgethatatthetime,shehadn’tyetgonepro.“I’mnot
onthemarket,Carla.”

Carla’smouthdroppedopen.Shestuffedacigarettebetweenherlipsandblewastreamof
smoke over Jack’s head. “That little waif Molly can’t do anything for you, you know.”
Carla batted her heavily made-up eyes at him, obviously unaware she had just gone too
far.

Jackslammedthebottledownonthetable,surprisedtheglassdidn’tbreakwiththeforce.
He stood, then leaned down and planted his hands firmly on either side of the table in
front of her, trying to control his anger. “Carla.” He growled her name. “I am not
interested.”

Carla leaned forward, closing the last bit of distance between them, the stench of
cigarettesandalcoholheavyonherbreath.“Youwillbe.”Jacksworeatvolumeonlyhe
could hear. As he pushed away from the table, Carla snaked a drunken arm around his
neck.Helosthisbalanceandfellagainsther.Carlatookfulladvantageofit,squealingand
cryingout“Youjustdon’tgiveup,JackGeller!”beforejamminghertongueinhismouth.

Jackjerkedaway,disgustedbythebittertasteofashandliquor.Hewipedhismouthwith
hisarmagain,barelycontainingtheurgetospit,andglaredatCarla.

“IwonderwhatyourpreciousMollywillthinkwhenshehearsabouthowyoujustthrew
yourself on me, hmm, Jack?” Carla smiled at him before blowing him a kiss and
saunteringoff,herhipsswayingjustaslooseastherestofher.Jackstaredafterherfora
momentindisbelief.Heeyedthecrowdaroundhimandtooknoteofmorethanonesetof
eyes sparked with interest. Word would be all over town, and being caught twice with
Carla in one day didn’t bode well for his second chance with Molly. Jack took a quick
lookaroundand,notcatchingsightofeitherLaceyorKeith,heheadedforthedoor.

Outside,thewarmnightairsatinaquiethazeandheldthethreatofthunderstorms.Jack
madehiswaybacktohistruck,stumblingfromtheeffectsofthebeer.Howmanydidhe
have? He reached for his cell phone and swore. How could he have forgotten to get
Molly’sphonenumber?

He stared at the entrance to Tuckey’s for a moment before deciding to stay put. Lacey
wouldbeouteventuallyandhecouldcatcharidehomewithherifheneededto.Hecould
do without another run in with Carla, and the warm tingle of a good buzz provided
warning enough to keep him from getting behind the wheel. For the first time in a long
time,hehadsomethingtoloseandhehadnointentiontoloseit.Jackclimbedintothebed
of his truck and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing one ankle over the
other. He slid his hands behind his head and gazed up at the night sky, listening to the
muffledsoundofmusicpumpfromthebar.

“JackGellar?Isthatyou?”

Hisheavy-liddedgazeledhimtotheslightlyfamiliarfaceofawoman.Shestoodbyhis
truck, sheets of jet black hair falling against her pale skin. Unnaturally blue eyes peered
throughaheavyfringeofbangs.

AmyCallahan.Hisdaygrewlongerbytheminute.

“Hi,Amy.”

“You’re looking good, Jack. I’m not the least bit surprised to find you in the back of a
truck.Gladtoseeyou’relivinguptoyourfullpotential.”Herwordswerebiting.Another
formerflameupinsmoke,hemused.

“Ourrelationshipwasalongtimeago,Amy.”

“Sure it was, sweetie.” She suddenly sounded so friendly; he wondered if he hadn’t
imaginedthebitterness.Then,hervoicesofterstill,sheadded“Daddytoldmeyouwere
backintown.Ihearyouhavearatherlucrativejobathisbank.”Jackheldbackasnort.
“Your daddy doesn’t own the bank. He just thinks he does.” He didn’t tell her Arthur
could hand him the keys to the bank plus all of the contents of the vault and the job
wouldn’tbeaslucrativeastheoneheturneddowninNewYork.Andforthatmatter,he
stilldidn’tknowexactlywhathis“lucrativejob

“evenentailed.

“I don’t suppose Daddy would be happy to know his golden boy had passed out in the
backofatruckonthenightbeforehestartswork.”Amydroppedherarmsonthebedrail
andsettledherchinontopofthem.Thecoldbluedepthsofhereyesmadehimuneasy.

“I’mnotnow,norwasIever,passedout.”Hecounteredheraccusationwithindignation.
The effects of the alcohol made his voice sound a bit like Lacey’s, a fact he found
amusing.“I’mwaitingforsomeone.”

“Yeah,Ibet.IsawyouintherewithCarla.She’sarealprize.”Amyrolledhereyesand
pursedherlips.

“I’mnotwaitingforher.I’mwaitingforaride.AndnotanykindofrideCarlamightbe
willingtogiveme.”

Amyregardedhimforalongmomentbeforeshespoke.“Whereto?”

“Home.”

“Well, Jack, how about I give you a ride?” This time her smile reflected in her eyes.
“Whereareyoustaying?”sheasked.

JackbitbackarefusalwhenthethoughtofMolly’swarm,softbodytauntedhim.He’ddo
anythingtobewithher,andaridehomefromAmydidn’texactlyqualifyastheendsof
theEarth.

“WithMollyColeman.”

AshadowflickeredacrossAmy’sface—ordidheimagineit?

Jack blinked, hard, and he thought twice. “Why would you give me a ride? We didn’t
exactlypartongoodterms.”

“Whynot,Jack?Wewerekids.I’dsaywe’vebothgrownupalittlesincethen.”Hereyes
lingeredonhiszipperregion.“Besides,Daddyiscountingonyouinthemorning.Ican’t
verywellleaveyoulanguishingintheparkinglot,nowcanI?”Shespokedirectlytohis
pants.

JackignoredthenaggingvoiceinhisheadscreamingathimtowaitforLacey,toointent
ongettingbacktoMolly.WhatharmcouldtherebeinacceptingaridefromAmy?“Okay,
thanks.”

Amy dug in her purse as he climbed out of the bed of the truck. “You won’t be able to
moveinthemorningifyoudon’ttakesomethingforthathangoveryou’regoingtohave,”

shesaid,handinghimacoupleofpills.

“Whatarethese?”heaskedsuspiciously.

“Tylenol. Same thing you always took before … or after.” She let the words trail off
suggestively.

Jackblockedmemorieshecoulddowithout.Heswallowedthepillsdryandfollowedher
to a ridiculous little sports car. The gleaming red contraption had no place on the rutted
back roads of farm country; if she so much as ran over a corncob, the whole car would
probablyflip.Hepracticallyhadtofoldhislongframeinhalftofitinthefrontseat.To
make matters worse, it wasn’t until he wedged himself inside that he noticed the
overwhelmingscentofheavyperfume.

His attention drifted to Amy, who sat watching him intently. “Thanks for the ride.” He
chokedonthewords,tryingnottoinhaleandequallydeterminedhisdispleasurenotshow
onhisface.

Amy started the car. “No problem, Jack. I’m glad to help an old friend. I think it’ll be
quitethepleasurableexperienceforbothofus.”

ChapterSix

Mollyliftedherheadgingerly,surprisedtofindherselfdownstairs.Thedistantwailofher
alarmclockmadenoamendsforthecrickinherneck,nodoubtaresultofspendingthe
nightwithherheadonthekitchentable.Stiffandsore,shemadeherwayupthestairsto
silencethenoise.

The morning sun barely pierced the darkness at this hour, but a few early rays breached
theopenwindow.Agentlebreeze,heavywiththescentofsummer,driftedin.Theslight
glowofmorningofferedjustenoughlighttobringherunmadebedintofocus.Thesheets,
stilltousledfromJack’smouthwateringintrusiononherlifethedaybefore,mockedher.

Shedidn’thavetolooktoknowJackwasn’tinthehouse,butshemadeapointofaverting
hereyesfromtheopendoorofhisbedroomanyway.Shewasn’treadytofacetheempty
truth.Hehadn’tcomehomelastnight.

Aribbonofdesireslippedthroughthewallofhurt,andshetriedtoignorebothfeelings.
Thebathroommirrorwasnotherfriendtoday,shemusedtiredly.Hereyeswereswollen
anddark,aglintofdistrusttheonlysparktheyheld.Mollyshoweredanddressed,rushing
tobeatthesuntothecoffeeshopwiththosedamnedpastriesintow.Luckilytherestofthe
nighthadgonewithoutincident—

orsoshe’dbeennaïveenoughtothinkatthetime—andtheresultwasadelectablearray
of cheese Danish, cherry tarts, and strawberry popovers. Not that she cared about
breakfast;herinterestlayintalkingtoLacey.Still,sheknewbetterthantocomebetween
HarlanTuckerandhisaffectionforpastry—andprofit.

“Hi,Molls!Howwasyournight?”Lacey’seyeswereshiningandslywhenMollyentered
thecoffeeshop.

“WhathappenedtoJack?”Mollydroppedthefirstboxonthecounterwithanangryglare.

Laceymissedit.“Thatdepends…whatdidyoudotohim?”SheteasedMollywithher
characteristicdrawl,herfacelightingwithaknowingsmile.

“Oh,IcanthinkofafewthingsI’dliketodotohim.”

“What?”

“Hedidn’tcomebacktothehouse.Ispentthenightatthekitchentable.”

”What?”

“That answers my next question.” Molly muttered in disgust, heading back out to her
truck for another box. Lacey wasn’t going to be much help, and Molly’s deadly scowl
warnedhernottoaskanymorequestions.

Thetwowomenwentabouttheirroutineofunpackingtheboxesinuncomfortablesilence.

ThelastpastryhittheshelfjustasHarlanwaddledintotheroom.Hetookhissamples,as
he called them, by the beefy handful, crammed one in his mouth, and nodded his
appreciationtowardMolly.

“Best‘unsmoneycanbuy!”hepitched,crumbsfallingfromhislipsontothebroadperch
ofhisbelly.Almostsixfeettallandabouthalfaswide,hehadnoqualmsabouttryingone
ofeverythingMollybroughtinonadailybasis.Qualitycontrol,hecalledit.

“Thanks.”Mollyrespondedwithapolitenessshedidn’tfeel.

“Hey.”Hecalledtoher,anunfortunateamountofhalf-chewedtartrollingaroundinhis
mouth.“Heardyouletyourboygetaway.”Laceygrewstockstill,hereyeswide.

“Ididwhat?”Molly’ssubduedtoneinstantlygrewsharpandcutting.Shesquaredoffwith
Harlan,whowastoobusyseducinghisbreakfasttogiveherasecondlook.

“That Gellar boy. Heard he spent the night with Callahan’s spoiled princess.” A cheese
DanishdisappearedintoHarlan’smouth.

Molly’s heart hit the floor with a thud. Fury slashed through her limbs, her breath
staggering in her chest. Jack and Amy? The thought sickened her, Jack’s betrayal
slamming into her with the force of an out of control Mack truck careening wildly
downhill.Theroomseemeddevoidofoxygen,thewallsshrinkingbythesecond.

“Harlan,” Lacey asked with a touch of disbelief, “how can you possibly know anything
thisearlyinthemorning?”

“Callahanismadashellaboutit,that’show.Saidhe’dratherkilltheboythanfirehim,
butIdon’treckonhe’lldoeither.WithGellarinhisoffice,hecankeepaneyeonhimat
least.”

Jackworkedatthebank;Mollyknewit.ButonementionofAmyCallahanmadethenews
soundominous—astarkcontrasttothejoythey’dsharedthedaybeforewhenhetoldher
Arthurhiredhimonthespot.

No one would ever mistake Molly and Amy for friends. Her father’s money afforded a
lifestyle few folks in Jefferson Heights would ever know, and Amy’s inner circle rallied

aroundherlikedogsbeggingforscraps.ButMollywouldbethelastonestandinginline
forherhandoutsandAmyseemedtoknowit.Thedistastewasmutual.Unfortunately,she
realized,sowastheaffectionforJack.

*****

“Goodmorning,lover.”

Jackgroanedandburiedhisheadagainstthepillowinaweakefforttobanishtheglareof
theoverheadlight.Theunfamiliarvoicetangledwithadeepfeelingthatsomethingwasn’t
right.

“Jack,sweetie,youdon’twanttobelate.Daddyisexpectingyou.”Atrailofexpletives
flashedthroughJack’sfuddledbrain,notaoneofthemhavinganythingtodowithgetting
toworkontime.“WhereamI?”

“Oh,Jack,surelyyouhaven’tforgottenwhathappenedbetweenuslastnight.I’minsulted,
darling!”

Jack squinted at a long expanse of silky smooth leg on the bed next to him. His gaze
followedthecurvestowardascrapoffabricnored-bloodedmanwouldeverconsiderto
beanactualpieceofclothingandthentothewomanwhoworeit.Amy.Herjetblackhair
hungstraightandsleek.Poutypinklipsfellintoaseductivegrin,andhewatchedasone
manicuredfingernailtracedthelengthofhisarm.

Sheleanedtowardhimandherbreastsspilledfromtheflimsyfabric,leavingabsolutely
nothing to the imagination. For the second time in just a few hours, he stared down an
unwantedcleavage.

“Didyousleepwell,Jack?”shecooed.

“Ifeellikehell.”Theroomedgedintofocus.Thepinkwalls,frillypillows,andfrou-frou
canopyoverthebedlefthimdisoriented.Thesettingwasjustaspamperedandoverdone
ashewouldhaveimaginedforthespoiledbrathe’dgottenalittletooclosetoyearsago.
She, of course, had never invited him to her house. He’d been her boy toy—a fact he
hadn’t minded at the time—but not worthy of stepping foot in the halls of the Callahan
mansion.

“That’snothowyoufelttomelastnight.”Shepurredoverhim,tracingafingersolightly
againsthisstubbledjawthathehadtheoverwhelmingurgetosmackit.Hertouchbuzzed
himlikeaswarmofmosquitoes.

“You didn’t feel a damn thing last night, Amy.” Jack knew he drank too much, but he
wasn’t drunk and he sure as hell hadn’t slept with Amy. In fact, he recalled, he’d called
herallsortsofnameswhensherefusedtotakehimbacktoMolly.Why,then,washein
herbed?

“Daddy sure wasn’t pleased to find you asleep in my bed this morning.”Her voice rang
cool now, but a small smile slipped out as Jack’s frustration billowed. “He was ready to
tossyourightoutthewindow,butIexplainedhowyou’dhadabittoomuchtodrinkand,
well,heknowswhatkindofmanyouareandhowI’veneverbeenabletoresistyou.”

“Amy….”Jack’svoiceshookwithadepthofangerhedidn’tknowhepossessed.

“So,”shecontinuedwithaflipofherhair,“ItoldhimI’mnothislittlegirlanymore,and
thathehasnocontroloverwhoItakeasalover.”

“Youdidn’t….”Hestarted.

“Ihadto,Jack!”Shepouted.Longeyelashesflutteredupanddown.“Hewalkedrightin
tokissmegoodbyeandthereIwas,alltangledupwithyourighthereunderhisnose!”

JackglaredatAmy.Shemethisstarebrazenly.

Jackuntangledhimselffromthesheetsandstood.Coolairkissedhisskin.Everywhere.

Hewascompletelynaked.

Whatthehellhadhedone?

“Wherearemydamnclothes?”

Amy smiled up at him, letting her gaze dip a little lower on his anatomy. “Well, you
couldn’t exactly do everything we did with them on, now could you?” He scanned the
roomandfoundhisclothesfoldedonalittlesidetablebythewindow.Therewasnoway
he’dhadsexwithAmyCallahan.Nowayinhell.Wasthere?

Hewastednotimetuggingonhisshirtandjeans,relievedtofindhispocketsheavy.Keys,
wallet,cellphone—allthere.

Amy’s triumphant look vanished. “Where are you going?” He fished his keys out of his
pocketandsteppedintohisboots.“Didn’tyoujusttellmeIwasgoingtobelate?”

“Youcan’tjustusemeandwalkoff.WhatwillDaddythink?”Shedidn’tveilthethreatof
herwords.

“Yourfathercanthinkwhathewantstothink.”

“Hecanfireyou!”

“Thenlethim.Idon’tknowwhatyou’retryingtopull,Amy,butI’mdonewithit.And
you.”Hemadehiswaytothedoorandsteppedoutofthefluffypinkroom,hopinglike
hellhewouldn’thavetolookatheragain.Buthedoubtedasmuch,andsheconfirmedhis
suspicionsbylettingoutahowlthatwouldhaverivaledthebesthounddoginthecounty.

“Youwait,JackGellar!Everyoneinthistownisgoingtoknowyouspentthenighthere
making love to me!” Her screams continued to ring out as the front door clicked shut
behind him, echoing through the lonely halls of the Callahan mansion. Jack didn’t look
back.

ChapterSeven

Mollysatatthecounter,numb,blindtotheebbandflowofearlymorningbusinessatthe
cafe.

“Washetherewhenyouleft?”

Lacey gave her a sympathetic look over the top of the glass case. “I still don’t know,

honey.Howmanytimesareyougoingtoaskme?”

“Howcouldyoujustlosehimlikethat?”Mollysighedanddroppedherheadinherhands.

“He’snotadog,Molly.Ididn’tlosehim,andIcertainlydidn’tseehimgoanywherewith
Amy!”

“IfhetookoffwithAmy,thenheisadog.HowcouldIhavebeensostupid?”

“You’renotstupid.Heseemslikeagreatguyandyoudon’tknowwhathappenedthere.
Whycan’tyougivehimthebenefitofthedoubt?”

“BecausehespentthenightwithAmyCallahan,that’swhy!”

“WhospentthenightwithAmyCallahan?”anelderlyvoicepipedin.“Thatgirl,letme
tellyou—she’sgotthewholetownfooled.ButIdidn’tjustfallofftheturniptruck,you
know.”

Molly looked up into the warm brown eyes of Ellen Harper—once one of her
grandmother’s dearest friends. Although Ellen had a good fifty years on Molly, she’d
stood by Molly through the bad times and the unlikely pair had developed a close
friendship.

“Ellen.”Laceygrinned.“Ididn’tknowyoufollowedthegossip!”

“ObviouslyIdon’t.”Ellenlaughed.“Nowwhat’sthisaboutAmy?”

“Harlansaysherdaddyfoundherthismorninginbedwith,um….”Laceycastaglance
atMolly.“Inbedwithaguy.”Shedartedbacktothecashregistertowaitonacustomer.

Ellen studied Molly for a long moment. “Okay, kiddo, what does this have to do with
you?”

Mollysighed.“RememberJackGellar?”

“Oh,yes.Iheardhewasbackintown.IguessAmydidn’twasteanytime,didshe?”

“Mollywastedless!”Laceygrinned.HersmilefadedwhenMollyscowledather.

“Oh,dear.AreyouandJack…?”

“I thought we might be. I was wrong.” Molly stood to pour herself a cup of coffee.
“Whateverwemighthavehadiscompletelyover.”Ellenraisedaneyebrow.“Thenwhy
doyoulooklikeyou’reabouttobreakintwo?”

Mollyopenedhermouthtoanswerbutsomethingcaughthereye.Adirty,lying,nogood
sortofsomething,walkingthroughthedoorinyesterday’sclothes.

“I’mabouttobreaksomethingintwo,alright.”Shejumpedfromthestool.

“Molly!”Jackhadthenervetosoundhappytoseeher.Asenseofdéjàvusurroundedher.
Hadonlytwenty-fourhourspassed?Noonewouldhaveeverconvincedherlayingeyes
onhimtodaywouldbeevenmoretraumaticthantheheartwrenchingassaultonhersenses
of the day before. His brown eyes seemed to forge a connection straight through to her
heart.Brokenembersjumpedlikeconfettifromtheemotionalcontact.Herbodyreacted

withtraitorousintentasshetookinhisleanform,liquidspillingthroughherinawaythat
putthehotcoffeetoshame.

Howcouldshestillwanthimafter…Amy?

“Youbastard.”

Jack stopped short. The entire room grew still as her words sliced through the coffee-
scentedair.

“Howcouldyou?”

Jacktooktwostepsforwardandhookedherelbow,pullinghertothebackoftheroom.
The shush of the crowd slowly lifted as she found herself just inches away from his
ripped,sensualbody.

ThebodythatspentthenightwithAmy,sheremindedherself.Shejerkedakneetoward
hisgroininresponsetothethought.

“Hey!”heyelped,dodgingtheassault.Barely.

“Whatdoyouwant,Jack?”

“Aboutlastnight….”

“You were with Amy,” she interrupted. “I should thank you, really. You saved me from
makingahugemistake.”

“I did not sleep with Amy.” He hoped. He hadn’t been that drunk, that he wouldn’t
remembersomethinglikethat.“IknowIdidn’t.”

“Iwantedtogivemyselftoyoulastnight,Jack.Idon’tcarewhatyoudidordidnotdo
withAmy—thefactisyouwereinherbed.Andifthat’sthekindof

‘relationship’you’regoingfor,thenwehavenothingtosaytoeachother.”

“Shesaidshe’dgivemearidehome!”heprotested.

“And…?”Mollyfoldedherarmsoverherchest.

Jackopenedhismouthbutbeforehecouldutterasoundhewasinterruptedbyaslapon
theback.Mollystoodscowlingasafewofhisoldfriendsofferedpig-headedcheersand
congratulationsforhisconquest.Throughafewhootsandcatcalls,AlexHarmonstepped
forwardand gave Jacka very sharpjab to the ribs.“Man, you’ve gotto be kidding me!
You move in with one hottie and spend the night with another. You sure know how to
makeanentrance!”

Jackglowered.“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.”

“It’sallovertown!Arthurisstompingaroundreadytohaveyoustrunguponhisflagpole,
andGaryheresawyouleavingtheCallahanplacethismorning.Thatain’tnohotel,my
brother!” Another slap on the back. “Amy doesn’t usually have overnight guests. You
musthavemadequiteanimpressiononher!”

Jack’sbodytensed.Musclestwitchedfiercely.Theguysscatteredasstormcloudsformed

aroundhim,allbutAlex.

“IdidnottouchAmy.”Jack’swordswereshort,histonedarkanddangerous.“Ifyousay
that again, they’ll be the last you utter before they wire your jaw back together.” Alex
liftedhishandsupinsurrender,thesmirkneverwaveringfromhisface.

“Sorry,man,”hesaid,notsoundingtheleastbitsorry.HetookasteptowardMollyand
winked. “Thanks for breakfast, sugar. It gets better every time.” This time Molly’s knee
connectedwithitstargetandAlexdoubledover,spillinghiscoffee.“Jerk.”Sheaddedthe
word for emphasis. Jack didn’t hide his amusement. He smiled widely as Alex backed
away, swearing a blue streak. A chorus of hoots filled the small room, which had fallen
silentforthesecondtimeinamannerofminutes.

Jack turned his back on his old buddies and gave Molly a pleading look. “I need a ride
backtomytruck.Canyougivemealiftsowecantalk?”

“Wehavenothingtosay.And,”sheadded,“consideryourselfluckyyoudon’thavenearly
asfartowalkasIdidfiveyearsago.”

Then,forthesecondtimeinasmanydays,shewalkedoutofthecoffeeshopandleftJack
Gellarbehind.

*****

Jack didn’t watch her go. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her leave him again.
Dammit, why had he ever trusted Amy? And how could he ever make Molly see all he
wantedtodowasgohometoher?Heballedhishandsupandfoughttheurgetopunch
something.Howcouldeverythinggosowrong?

He couldn’t have screwed Amy, although it was becoming clearer by the moment she’d
sureashellscrewedhim.Whycouldn’therememberanything?Hewrestledwithavague
memoryofhergivinghimsomething—Tylenol?

“Thatlittleweasel.”

“Jack?” Lacey’s southern drawl broke through his despair, transforming his name into
aboutthreesyllables.“Idon’tmeantopry,but….”

“Lacey,IswearIdidn’tsleepwithher.IknowIdidn’t.”Jack’svoicebroke.“Sheoffered
to give me a ride back to Molly’s place and I took her up on it. Then she slipped me
something. I had no idea she’d take me back to her house! Hell, she never wanted me
therebefore.”

“Anotherformerflame?”Asmileplayedatherlips.

“Unfortunately.Doyouthinkshe’lleverbelieveme?”

“What? That someone like Amy date raped you? Honey, I don’t think anybody’s gonna
believethat.”

“Ididn’tsleepwithher.”Jacksighed.“AtleastIdidn’t…youknow.ButIcertainlycould
have…youknow.”

“YoumightwanttoworkonthatbeforeyoutryitonMolly.”Laceygrinnedandpulled
herkeysoutofherskirtpocket.“Here,takemycar.JustmakesureIcangetoutofhere
thisafternoonatclosingtime,okay?”

Jackcaughtthekeysshetossedandsmiledforthefirsttimethatday.

“Shemaynotbelieveyou,butIknowifyoutellherthetruth,she’llforgiveyou.”

*****

Neveronetoslinkawayfromhisresponsibilities,Jackchosetocrawlintothebankandbe
firedinperson.Nosuchluck.

Arthurgotrighttothepoint.“Boy,didyouhavesexwithmylittlegirllastnight?”

Gulp.“No,nosir.”Notlastnight,headdedsilently.

“Let’sgoforaride,boy.”ThetoneinArthur’svoicemadeJackgratefulhedidn’thavea
trunkinhisoffice,becausehecouldsureashellseeDaddyCallahanstuffinghimintoit.
ArthurmusthavepickeduponJack’shesitationbecauseheadded,“I’mtakingyoutoget
yourtruckfromthatdamnedbar.”

Already uncomfortable, alarm bells went off in Jack’s head when they turned down
Molly’sroad-aconsiderabledetourfromthepathbetweenthebankandTuckey’s.What
hadOldManCoopersaidonhiscondomrun?Molly’sgotherhandsfullrightnow.Don’t
yougocausingheranymoregrief.

GodhelphimifhertroubleshadanythingtodowithTheBankofJeffersonHeights.

Thetruckslowed.ArthurpointedtoJack’slandandreliefwashedoverJack.

“Thatyourland,boy?”

“Yes,sir,itis.”

“Howwouldyouliketoownthepiecenexttoit?”HenoddedinthedirectionofMolly’s
house.

JackfoughttoraisehisjawfromthedustyfloorofArthur’struckandgulpedamouthful
ofhotair.“Whydoyouask?”

“Becausenotlongfromnowit’llbebank-owned.Ididsomecheckingonyou,andyou’re
abouttheonlypersonintownwithpocketsdeepenoughtoaffordit.”Arthursparedhima
sidelongglance.“Butwhetheryouwanttobuythatpieceornot,you’regoingtohandle
thepaperworkontheforeclosure.Withyourbackground,I’mputtingyouinchargeofthe
bank’s loans. That one will bring in a pretty penny.” Jack swallowed. Hard. Molly was
about to lose her home, and damned if he wasn’t going to have to be the one to take it
fromher.

*****

Amy’s hands shook as she stared at the plastic white stick in her hand. Pregnant. Her
fatherwouldneverforgiveher.Hemighteventhrowheroutofthehouse,andthenwhat?
Notasinglefriendcouldshedependon,notwithoutherdaddy’smoney.

“Thankyou,JackGellar,forshowingupintherightplaceatexactlytherighttime.”

Shewas only aweek or solate. She’d done themath and managedto narrow the father
down to a couple of men, neither of whom particularly appealed to her. She tossed the
stick in the garbage, then thought twice and tucked it back beneath the mattress. She’d
have to get rid of it somehow, maybe put it in her purse, and take it to some dumpster
somewhere. If her father saw it, she’d have far too much explaining to do. Sighing, she
sankdownintothefluffycoveringsofherbed.ThepinksilksheetssmelledlikeJack—a
deep, manly scent that curled her perfectly manicured toes. It had been years since his
rough hands roamed every inch of her, leaving her quivering from head to toe while
screams spilled from her shuddering body. And last night, well, it was a good thing she
was able to get those pills on short notice. She couldn’t believe things were falling into
place so perfectly. As soon as she saw him back in town, she knew her new little
“problem”wassolved.Hewassooutofitbythetimeshegothimhomethatshehadto
summonHarold,thebutler,togethimuptoherroom.AssoonasJackhitthesheets,Amy
crawledinwithhimandnestledherselfinthecrookofhisarm.Nomanhadeversatisfied
likeJack,andsheknewhefelttheattraction,too.Itwasjustamatteroftimebeforehe
realized they were meant to be together. And the honorable Jack would have plenty of
timetorealizeitoncehefoundouthewasgoingtobeadaddy.

Amy lightly fingered her belly, a cunning grin splitting her face. Things could not have
turnedoutmoreperfectly.

ChapterEight

Mollyglancedattheclock.Itwasafterfive.Shetookadeep,shudderingbreath.IfArthur
hadn’tkilledhim,Jackshouldbeleavingthebankanymomentnow.Everyachingpartof
her body wanted him to come back and give her a reasonable explanation for what
happened.IdidnottouchAmy.Hiswordsechoedinherhead,searchingforthevalidation
shesodesperatelywantedtograntthem.

The walls of the greenhouse afforded an expansive view of the farm. Lacey’s car sat
parkedinthedriveway,andMollycouldseehermovingaroundthekitchenworkingon
the fruit. Just past the barns, the crop-barren fields seemed to go on forever, interrupted
onlybythestrongsilhouetteoftheWhiteOakmarkingthespotJack’shouseoncestood.

A slight movement at the base of the distant tree caught her eye, and she sucked in a
breath.Jack.Noonehadsteppedfootonthelandforyears—theshadowhadtobehim.
Shedidn’thavetoimaginewhathemightbethinkingashestoodthereamongtheruinsof
everythingheloved.

Sheknew.

Without conscious thought, Molly slipped out of the greenhouse and walked across the
lawntowardhim,herfootstepssilentonthethickgrass.Theghostsofherownfamily,of
ajoyouschildhoodfilledwithlaughterandmorerecenttimessofulloftears,enveloped
her with bittersweet warmth. The feeling rang familiar, but this time something was
different.Thistimeshewasn’talone.Thelonefigureacrossthefieldunderstoodher,heart
andsoul.

Notthatshecouldsaythesame,exactly.Shecouldn’tforthelifeofherunderstandwhy
hewantedAmy.Jackwasgenuine,real.Sheknewthatmuch.Inspiteofeverythinghe’d
done,hehadn’tliedtoher.Thesuddenrealizationwasasclearastheblueskyabove.

He’dneverliedtoher.Notinalloftheyearstheyplayedtogetheraskids,notevenwhen
heleftheronthesideoftheroad.Shebelievedhim.Mollystoppedwalkingattheedgeof
thebedraggledfield.Bynow,thespaceshouldbefilledwithneatrowsofcorn.Instead,
callousweedsmockedher,aseaoffailurestretchingasfartheeyecouldsee.Butforthe
firsttimeinalongtime,herheartfeltfull.

Still,theknee-highvegetationinfrontofhergaveherpause.Shehatedsnakes,andsnakes
lovedfields—especiallyovergrownfields.Sherecalledthesix-foottimberrattlesnakeher
grandfatherhadrunoverwiththetractoronesummer,removingthebetterpartofitshead.
Mollyshuddered.Thegrotesquephotomadethefrontpageofthetownpaper.Shenever
figuredoutwhatatimbersnakewasdoingoutthereontheexpanseofdirt,butshehadno
desiretofindanotherone.Withabrokensigh,shepickedherwaycautiouslyacrossthe
field,Fidothehugebarncattrottingalongatherheels,tailperkedwithbravado.

Jackstoodunderthetreewithhisbacktowardher.

“You’rereallystartingtopissmeoff,”Mollycalled,herbreathheavyfromthelongtrek
overtherumpledland.

Jackswungaround,hisstoopedshouldersdrawingsquareagain.

“WhyisitthatIhavethisridiculousurgetoapologizetoyou?”sheasked.Andthenshe
sawit,thatcrookedgrinthatmeltedherfromtheinsideout.

“Itmustbemyirresistiblecharm.”Asmallsmilepunctuatedthejoke.Then,

“Doesthismeanyouforgiveme?”

Shestudiedhimforamoment.“No,itdoesn’t.”

Jack’ssmilefaded.

She grinned. “It means we can talk.” She covered the last bit of distance between them
andlookedintentlyintohiseyes.

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. When his hand moved to
tenderlycupthebackofherhead,theEarthspunwildlybeneathMolly’sfeet.

“I’msorry,”hewhispered.“Idon’tknow….”

“ButIdon’twanttotalkaboutitnow.Nothere.”

Fido howled, and they both laughed. Jack took her hand, threading his fingers through
Molly’swithacausalintimacythatnearlybroughthertoherknees.

“Iwanttoshowyousomething.”Heledhertoapatchofgroundspeckledwithdebrisand
thatchesofweeds.“Look.”

Molly found herself driven to distraction by the warm feel of his hand in hers, but she
obedientlypeeredintothegrass.Somethingglitteredinthelight,andshegasped.

“Doyourememberthose?”Jack’svoicewasthickwithemotion.Mollystareddownatthe
shardsofbrokenglassweathered,dirty,andbesottedbytime.“Thefire…?”sheasked.

“Itmustnothavegottenveryhotrighthere.”

Mollykneltdownandgingerlytouchedtheremainsofthebrokengreenandbluebottles.
ItseemedlikeanotherlifetimeagosheandJackhadcreptunderhisfrontporchtohidethe
beautifullycoloredglassthey’dfoundbehindtheoldgeneralstore.

“Youseemtobeinthemiddleofallofmyfavoritememories,”hesaidtenderly,drawing
her back to her feet. “I know you don’t trust me right now and I understand why, but I
wantyoutoknowI’llspendtherestofmylifemakingituptoyouifIhaveto.”

Molly’seyesfilledwithtears.“SincewhendoesaplayboylikeJackGellerstartpromising
forever?”

“Sincethere’sanamazingwomaninfrontofmewhoappearstobegivinghimasecond
chance.”

JackstaredatMolly,stillnotquitesureshewasreallythere.Hewantedtokissher—hell,
he wanted to toss her on the ground and eat her alive—but he wasn’t sure how far the
fragile trust between them would go. She was pretty quick with that knee of hers; Alex
probablystillwalkedwithalimp.

Molly leaned her head on his shoulder and Jack pulled her close, wrapping his arms
around her from behind as she settled back against his chest. She was so maddeningly
sexy, and the mouth-watering curve of her bottom nestled against his groin was almost
morethanhecouldtake.Shesmelledlikesugarandhoney,thescentteasinghimwhenhe
settledhischinagainstherhair.Theystoodthere,sheprobablyreflectingonthestreaksof
orange and red that lit the fiery sky while he fantasized about driving his body into her
hot,slickfoldsuntiltheybothexploded.Shewasright.Hewasabastard.

He’d come to his old homesite looking for a distraction, but Molly’s soft body wasn’t
exactlythedistractionheexpected.Andasmuchashecouldpromisetospendtherestof
hislifeearninghertrustagain,onelittlefacthoveredthickandheavyoverhishead.

Arthurandhisdamnedforeclosure.

ChapterNine

“Amyrufiedyou?”

“Shemusthave.ShegavemesomethingshesaidwasTylenol,andthenIdon’tremember
anotherthinguntilIwokeupthenextmorning.”

”AndyoukissedCarla?”Mollytriedtosoundshocked,buthersurprisewasaruse.Ifa
mancoulddrawabreathandopenhiswallet,Carlawasinterested.Shetwirledherforkto
loaditwithspaghettithentappedherkitchentablewithmockimpatience,eggingJackfor
ananswer.

“Carlakissedme.”Jackdroppedhisheadtohishands.Mollyputherfingerstohermouth
tohidehersmile.Hedidn’thavetoknowshewashavingfunwiththisthirddegreestuff.

Thebittersweetcloudaroundthemliftedduringthewalkbacktoherhouse;ifshehadto
feedhim,hehadtoputupwiththequestions.

“SoCarlakissedyou,andyoupickedAmytobethegetawaycar?”Mollyenjoyedtheway
hishandswerestillplasteredtohisface,becauseiftheireyesmettherewasnowayshe
wouldn’tstartlaughingwithallofhishuffingandpuffing.

“Amy,”hesaid,exasperated,“offeredtobringmebackhere.”Hepaused,andthentossed
a boyish scowl at her. “Although why I wanted to come back here to you, woman, I
couldn’ttellyou,”heteased.

MollybaskedintheglowofthatsinfulgrinofhisjustuntilJacklookeddowntoscoopup
anotherforkfulofspaghetti;thenshethrewhergarlicstickathim,hittinghimsquarein
thenose.

“Hey!”Heyelped.

“You want to call Amy and see if she’ll come rescue you again?” Molly teased. In
responseJackpickeduphergarlicbread,wipedhisplatewithit,andtookabigbite.

“Hey,that’smine!”

Jack shrugged and held his hands up, helplessness lighting his face. Molly stood and
collectedthedishes,swattinghiminthebackoftheheadasshepassedbehindhim.He
wastoodamncute.Somethingaboutthoselocksofhairfallingintohiseyesturnedboyish
charmintomoltenhotsexappeal,andMollyfoundherselfoverheating.Again.

“So,Mr.InvestmentBanker,whyhaven’tyoucutyourhair?”Notthatshewantedhimto,
ofcourse,butthethoughtofhishandsomeprofilemarredbyabuzzcutcooledherdown.
Alittle.

“What’swrongwithmyhair?”

“Nothingiswrongwithyourhair.It’sjustnotverybanker-ish.”Jacksnorted.“Irefuseto
bedomesticated.Therewillbenowhitecollarsaroundmyneck.”

“Idon’tcarewhatyoudotoyourhair,JackGellar.Youcouldn’tpulloffwhitecollarif
you tried!” Molly kept her tone light, but the refusal of domestication lingered in her
mind,fillingacornerofherheartwithdisappointment.Notthatshe’deverfiguredhimfor
the marrying kind, but the easy banter between them felt comfortable, good. Oddly like
forever,atleastasfarasshe’deverdaredtoimagineit.Mollyfinishedrinsingthedishes
andturnedtofindJackacrosstheroomrummagingthroughoneofhisbags.Shewatched
him for a moment, admiring just about everything about him—particularly the way his
facelitupwhenhefinallypulledahandfulofrumpledpapersfromthefolds.

“Foundit!”

“Foundwhat?”Mollygrinnedathisenthusiasm.

“Howwouldyouliketohaveanewneighbor?”heaskedtriumphantly.

“Areyousellingyourland?”Mollyswallowedthickly,wonderingsuddenlyifthosequiet
moments under the tree were part of his goodbye. Not that it mattered if he sold it. She

hadthirtydays,tops,andshe’dbegettinganewneighboranyway—

somewhere. After months of trying to hold on, she’d finally faced the harsh truth: she
couldn’t. She’d listed her beloved family farm for sale with a national company
specializing in rural properties. Selling the land before the bank decided to foreclose sat
muchbetterwithherthanlosingwhatgenerationsofherfamilyworkedsohardforand
walkingawaywithnothing.

Jackstudiedherforamoment.Surelyheknewthatshe’dbeleavingonewayoranother—
heworkedatthebank,afterall.Themomentpassedinaheartbeatandthatamazinggrin
onceagainwashedoverhisface,breakingthetension.Jackploppeddownonthebattered
sofaandpattedtheseatnexttohim.“I’mnotsellingtheproperty.Actually,Ihaveother
plans.”

Mollycaughthisinfectiousgrinandcrossedtheroom,settlingbesidehim.Heremotions
alreadyfragile,shefeltasmalllumpinherthroatwhenithitheragainjusthownatural
theyweretogether.

Thelumpvanishedwhenshesawwhatheheldinhishands.Shestared,gapemouthed.

“You’regoingtocatchaflylikethat,youknow.”

“Jack,it’sbeautiful!”Shetookadeepbreath,elbowinghimforhisfly-catchingcomment.
Beautifuldidn’tdothemjustice.Mollystaredatthehouseplansinabsoluteawe.

It wasn’t a huge house, but everything about it was perfect. A wide wraparound porch
madetheexteriorlookwarmandinviting.Doublewindowsonthesecondfloortoppeda
sprawlingboxwindowbelow,andMollycouldpracticallyseesunshinestreamingthrough
theglasspanesontothewindowseat.Fidowouldlovethatspot.Theopenfloorplanmade
up most of the downstairs living area, but Molly’s attention went straight to the huge
kitchen,completewithawalk-inpantryandeveryamenityshe’deverdreamedof—notto
mentionafewshehadn’tknownexisted.Molly’sfingertracedapatharoundthekitchen,
pastthewalk-inpantry,andthroughadoorwaytoaden.

Jack’shandlightlygrazedhers.“Doyouseethat?Thedenopenstothefrontporch.”

Molly looked up at him, their eyes meeting with a tangible jolt of electricity. She
swallowedbacktheurgetokisshim,thesoundechoinginthestillroom.Forgivinghim
was one thing; forgiving herself, another thing entirely. And she’d never forgive herself
forfallingforhim—notwhentherewasnohopeofafuture,andhemadethatmuchclear
when he refused to be tied down. And, God help her, if she gave herself to him there
would be no getting those pieces back. His touch promised lethal consequences in a
charming,sexysortofway—notthattheknowledgedidanythingtocurbherdesirefora
fewsweatyhoursofwhatwouldhavetobemind-blowingsex.

“Itwouldmakeaperfecthomeoffice,don’tyouthink?”Jack’svoicedrawledlow,husky.
Onlyhecouldturnsomethingasbenignas“homeoffice”intoutterseduction.

Mollyblinkedawayheremotionandforcedherattentionbacktotheplans.Jacktookher
finger,stillpoisedonthepage,andledherthroughtherestofthedownstairs.Whenthey
got to the master bedroom, Molly’s pulse quickened at the idea of walking through that

particular doorway with him for real. She only had to remember back to yesterday to
imagine what might happen, and the thought of it was enough to make her need a fresh
pairofpanties,damnhim.

Upstairs,twolargebedroomssharedabathroom,ahugeloungesprawlingbetweenthem.

Mollywasinlove.

“I’mthinkingwhitewithagreenroof.Whatdoyouthink?”Finally,realizationdawnedon
her.“Jack,areyoubuildingthishouse?”

“Ifyoudon’tthinkit’llmessupyourview.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve never seen anything so wonderful in my life!” It was the
perfectlittlefarmhouse.Openspaceswithmodernamenities—ahomeyfaçadethatwould
looklikeithadbeenthereahundredyearsthemomenttheconstructioncrewsclearedout.
Theperfectplacetoraiseafamily.

Family. Molly squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force away the image of Jack sitting on
the porch with his future wife. How easily she could see a couple of wild kids—they’d
have to be hellions, Jack’s kids—running around the yard. Catching fireflies, squirting
eachotherwiththehose,stashingcoloredglassbottlesundertheporch.

Shegulped.“It’samazing,Jack.”Anditwasadamngoodthingshewouldn’tbenextdoor
toseeit.

Mollysighedandlookedaround.Asmuchasshelovedhergrandparents’house,theold
place suddenly looked shabby next to Jack’s house plans. The events of the last year
hadn’tleftmuchtimeormoneyforupkeep,andtheplacestood—andjustbarely—

on its last legs. And with just one bathroom, the place had been dubbed functionally
obsolete.Molly’skitchen,althoughspotless,clearlyhailedfromanothercentury.Infact,
theonlynodtowardamoderneraintheentirehousewasthelaundryroom,aten-yearold
shed-style addition that opened to the back porch. A crude storm cellar once held her
grandmother’s canning, but these days Molly made a point of avoiding the dank hole in
theground.

Jack’s voice stole through the silence, sweetly pulling her back from her thoughts. “You
know, it’s killing me not to kiss you right now.” His voice rang with intensity, and the
wordshunginthespacebetweenthem.

“Theywhydon’tyou?”Sheteasedhimwithherwords,hopingthebantermightknockthe
sexualtensionfromtheair.Fatchance.

“Because I want you to believe I’m not here to conquer you.” His voice trailed slowly
overherbody,andhecouldn’thavesoundedsexierifhe’dtoldherheplannedtospend
theentirenightmakinglovetoher.

Sheshivered.

“Areyoucold?”

Was he kidding? The temperature must have shot up ninety degrees in the last sixty

seconds.

“I’mgood.”Mollyreachedoutandgentlysweptthelengthsofdarkhairthatfellacross
histannedface.“That’salotofhouseforoneman.”Jackleanedinandkissedherneck,
sending a shockwave of shivers through her once again. “I’m hoping,” he murmured
againstherskin,“tohaveagoodwomanandafewkidstoshareitwithoneday.”

Mollysmiled.“Afewrottenkids,”shesaid.

“Nodoubt.”Hetracedthelineofherjawwithhislips,fillingherwithliquidheat.

Molly’sarmsslidaroundhisback,pullinghimcloser.Hereffortswerealltheinvitationhe
needed.Thehouseplansfelltothefloorasshewrappedherselfinthewarmweightofhis
body.Alowgrowlescapedhimwhenheclaimedhermouth.Henibbledather,tastedher.
Deepandprobingonemoment,lightandteasingthenext.Mollyfoundherselfmovedbya
passionshecouldn’tputtowords,utterlysweptawaybythepowerofheremotions.Their
bodies tangled together, but Molly’s mind was crystal clear: Jack Gellar held her heart.
She’dalreadybeenconquered.

Jack’sheartspiraledagainstthesensationofthesoft,willingbodybeneathhim.Trouble.
He forced himself to think about anything else. The time his buddy Fletcher threw up a
nasty mixture of macaroni and beer in Jack’s truck. Old Betty Walters showing off her
prizedmoleinfrontoftheFastMart.Thesmellofhogmudonahotday.Hell,anything
butthismercilesslysexywomanwhomeltedathistouch.Anddamnedifhedidn’tmeltat
hers.

All those semesters of college, and not one co-ed ever tempted him past the point of no
return.Infiveyears,sincehe’dleftMollystaringafterhim,hehadn’tsleptwithasingle
woman.

Amy.

Couldgoingsolongwithoutsexhavebeenthereasonhe…?

No.Hecouldn’thave.He’dspenttheyearssincehelosthisfamilylearningtowalkaway,
refusingtobehurt.OnlysweetMollystayedinhisheart.He’dseenthepainedlookinher
eyes after his careless “new neighbor” comment. He could sense the uncertainty, and he
understoodtoowellthefearoflosingeverything.Theyears-oldfeelingswererawinhis
gutfromhisownloss,butatleastJackstillhadthelandtocallhome.

Mollywouldn’thavethat.

Whycouldn’thehavewaitedonemoredaybeforesigninghimselfintodebttopayforthe
newhouse?He’dhavegladlyusedthemoneytogetMollycaughtuponherpaymentsso
hewouldn’thavetothrowheroffherland,allshehadleftofherfamily.Butdammit,the
woman had a talent for distraction. Her womanly curves, the tight peaks of her nipples,
andtheunholysoftnessofherskintauntedhim.Hiserectionraged,throbbing,wellbefore
shewrappedherlegsaroundhimandpinnedhispelvisimpossiblycloser.

HealreadylingeredonthevergeofexplosionwhenMolly’shandsliddownhisbackand
dipped below the waist of his jeans. She sighed, a sound full of sexual innuendo and

contentment that filled his head with dizzying desire. She clutched him so tightly he
wondered if the rock hard member between his legs hurt her as much as it damn near
painedhim.

“Pleasemakelovetome.”Shewhisperedthewordsintohismouth.“Takemeupstairs.”

“You’remakingithardformetosayno.”Thewordswereameregrunt,andhescoffedat
thetruthbehindthem.Shewasmakingithardalright.

“Thendon’t.”Moreraggedbreaths.

Jackpulledbackandstaredatthewomanbeneathhim.He’dneverfeltanythinglikethe
firethatcoursedthroughhisveinsatthesightofher.Thecrushingwayhisheartfilledto
knowshewantedhim.

Hesighed.“Let’sgoupstairs.”

ChapterTen

Jack’s entire body shook by the time he covered the short distance to the stairs, and the
tremorshadnothingtodowiththeinconsiderableweightoftheincrediblewomanheheld
inhisarms.Hell,ifanythinghefeltlikeTheHulk—acertainpartofhimgrewbiggerand
strongerthanheeverthoughtpossible.

Atthisrate,hewouldn’tbeabletorolloverinbedforaweek.Mollytickledthebackof
hisneckwithherfingers,sendingyetanotherroundofshiverscoursingthroughhim.The
feelingmadehimsoweakinthekneesthathehadtoholdhispositiononthestairsuntil
heregainedhiscomposure,atwhichpointthesensationfunneledstraighttohisdick.

Mollycaressedhisneck-atender,ruthlessgesturethatlefthisheadspinning.Sheoffered
herselftohim,warm,willing,andhotterthanthefiresofhell,whichisexactlywherehe’d
endupifhedidn’tfigureouthowtoresisther,atleastuntilhecouldmakethingsright.He
hadn’tdoneanythingwrong—notinthelasttwelvehours,anyway—buthecouldn’tshake
thefeelingshe’dbemadderthanawethenifshefoundoutheknewaboutthebanktaking
herfarm.Shehadherpride.Anduntilhefiguredouthowtohelpher,Jackwasgoingto
haveonehellofakickstandproblem.

MollystoppednibblingonJack’sneckattheprecisemomenthecarriedherthroughher
bedroomdoor.Inthatinstanttheairbetweenthemturnedthickandhotandeverybitas
dangerousasthegray-greencalmbeforeawhopperofathunderstorm.Jackswore.“Ihave
towalkawayfromyou,youknow.”Thelookinhiseyesclearlyindicatedhe’dliketodo
anythingbut.

Relief and disappointment hammered Molly in a firestorm of truth. She knew he should
go,butshewantedhimtostay.Shesureashelldidn’twanthimtowanttogo.Butheslid
her,eversogently,ontoherbedandretreated.Shelaytremblingandhatedherselfforit.

“Jack?” She called to him softly. Too late, she realized the word sounded like an
invitation.

Hefroze.Mollystaredatthestrongformofhisbackinthedarkness,admiredthewayhis
silhouettefilledthedoorway.Filledherheart.

“Idon’twanttoevergiveyouareasontoquestionmeagain,Molly,”hesaidquietly,his
backstilltoher.

“Thenwhyareyouwalkingaway?”

“Becauseonenightwithyoucouldneverbeenough.”Thenthedoorshutwithasoftclick,
andhewasgone.

Whatthehelljusthappened?Mollysqueezedhereyesshut,fightingtearsandyetwanting
toreleasethem.ThedesiretobewithJackclawedather—somuchsothattheneedscared
her—but she knew she’d never recover from a fling with him. She was in too deep
already, and, God help her, she wanted more. Much more. Because one night with you
couldneverbeenough.

Jack’s words traipsed through her mind, their meaning every bit as elusive as sleep. She
knewwhytheiraffairwouldhavetobeashort-termthing,butshehadnoideawhatmade
himthinkit.

She listened to the hammering of her own heart over the quiet sounds of Jack moving
throughthehouse.Hergrandparents’oldbedcreakedagainstthestillnight,anditwasall
shecoulddonottogocrawlinafterhim.Monthshadpassedsinceshesharedthehouse
withanyone,andknowinghefilledthespacemadeitfeellikehomeforthefirsttimeina
longtime.

She closed her eyes and imagined—remembered—his touch. Tendrils of electricity flew
through her heated skin straight through to the part of her that wanted him most. She
couldn’tdecideifthehonorwenttothethrobbingfoldsbetweenherlegsorherheart.But
atthispoint,neitherstoodachance.

Inthesafetyofthedark,sheknewsheagreedwithhim:onenightneverwouldbeenough,
yet she had little else to give. In a cruel twist of fate, she was leaving. He was staying.
Nightdriftedsoftly,restlessly,throughtheroom,temperingherthoughtswithfantasiesof
themannextdoor.

*****

Before she even opened her eyes Molly could sense something wasn’t right. It was the
light.Sunlightpouredthroughthewindowsandafreshbreezecreptthroughtheopening,
carryingwithitapromiseofthehumiddayahead.Thepastries!

Mollysatboltuprightinapanicandgrabbedforheralarmclock.Teno’clock!

Whyhadn’tLaceycalled?Sheslammedtheclockdownandapieceofpapercaughther
eye. She jerked the note off the nightstand and her heart hammered for an entirely
differentreason.

Molly,gobacktosleep.Thealarm

wentoffforeversoIfiguredyouneeded

yourrest.I’llgetthedeliveryover

tothecoffeeshopforyou.Seeyou

afterwork.Jack.

IttookafullminutefortheimpactofJack’sgesturetosinkin,butwhenitdidMollyfelt
like a schoolgirl with a crush. Giggling with joy and relief, she fell back against the
pillowsandreadthenoteadozenmoretimes.Whenwasthelasttimeshehadn’tbeenup
beforethecrackofdawn?Shecouldn’tremember.And,exceptforFidoscowlingather
fromthecornerchair,everythingfeltutterlyrightwiththeworld.Jackmayhavewalked
awayfromherlastnight,buthehadn’tgonefar—andheobviouslywantedhertoknowit.

Molly nearly skipped down the stairs, giddy, her bare feet thumping against the worn
woodenfloors.Fidolumberedbehindher,howlingareminderforhisbreakfast.Shegave
himafreshbowloffood,washedherhands,andheadedforthecoffeemaker.Jackmust
have set the timer because the pot was half full of hot coffee. Another note lay on the
counter in front of it. PS—No one should have to get up this early. Molly smiled. Her
favoritecoffeecupsatnexttothenote—howcouldhehaveknown?—andheldasingle,
sunny yellow and white daisy, stolen from the flower bed, no doubt. One of her cheese
Danishessatwrappedinplasticonthecounter.Ifaperfectmanexisted,he’djustwalked
backintoherlife.Nevermindthathe’dspenthisfirstnightbackintownwithAmyand
had found Molly completely resistible the next. Or, she sighed, that she had every
intentionofresistinghim.

Mollypluckedthedaisyfromhercupanddroppedtheflowerintoadecorativejaronthe
windowsill,addingabitofwaterfromthetapoftheantiquesink.Shepouredthecoffee
andsteppedontothebackporchwiththemuginherhands.Thelandsprawledaheadof
her, hope and promise sprinkled among the dead crops and thriving weeds. She’d give
anything to hang onto the farm, but, sadly, nothing she had was enough. Most days she
couldbarelycopewiththelossofhergrandparents,butshecouldn’timaginewakingup
anywhere else with this hole in her heart. Except … Molly thought of Jack’s house and
smiled.Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,shefoundherselftrulyhappyforsomething—for
him.Itwasacryingshameshecouldn’tbehappyforherself,butsheknewthepainofhis
lossandsharedthejoyofhisfreshstartjustascompletely.

The sound of distant shouting jarred her from her thoughts. Molly stepped off the porch
andlookedinthedirectionofthenoise,andforthesecondtimeinasmanydaysshesaw
someonestandingunderJack’stree.Alotofsomeones,andbythelooksofthelandthey
hadn’tcarpooled.Nofewerthanfivetruckscrowdedthehorizon.Asshewatched,twoof
the figures broke from the pack and headed across the field toward her house. One
gesturedwildly;theotheractuallyheldhishandsoverhisears.

“CanIhelpyou?”shecalledwhentheyreachedtheedgeofherlawn.Theolderofthetwo
men—ahuskyfellowwithgrayaroundtheearshe’drecentlyclampedhishandsover—
tookhishatoffandnodded.“Yesma’am.I’mHenryDavisandthishereis–”

“CalebArcher.”TheyoungermansteppedforwardandgallantlyliftedMolly’shandtohis
lipsforakiss.

Henryrolledhiseyesandsighed.

”ArcherConstruction.”CalebshotapointedlookatHenryDavis.“Jackhiredmetobuild

his house, and I just have a few preliminary questions for him.” Henry glared at Caleb.
“Mr. Gellar hired your daddy, Caleb, not you.” He turned back to Molly and winked.
“Calebhereworksforme,notthatI’lleverconvincehimofit.Hisfatheristhegeneral
contractor, and I’m his foreman. Do you happen to know how we can get in touch with
Mr.Gellar?”

CalebshotHenryaLook.

“He’satworkdownatthebank.Wouldyouliketousethephone?Cellphonereceptionis
terribleouthere.”

“I’dappreciatethat,Miss…?”Henrytrailedoff.

“Oh,I’msosorry!I’mMollyColeman.Letmegetthephoneforyou,Mr.Davis.”

“Henry,please.”Hesmiledwarmly.

Mollyturnedherbackonthemenandtriednottotripoverherjaw.Jacksuredidn’twaste
anytimewhenhewantedsomething.Thenwhydoesn’thewantme?Shebarelyhadtime
toprocessthethoughtinthetimerequiredforhertograbthecordlessphoneandreturnto
thetwomen.

HandingthehandsetovertoHenry,sheasked,“CanIgeteitherofyouadrink?

Coffee?Lemonade?”

HenryopenedhismouthtoanswerbutCalebbeathimtoit.“I’dlovesomecoffee,Molly.
Whydon’twegiveol’Henryherehisprivacy?”Henrysmiled.“Iappreciatetheoffer,but
I’mgoingtomakethisphonecallandheadbacktowork.”

“We’lljustgetoutofyourwaythen,”Calebsaidsmoothly,steppingontotheporchand
holdingthedooropenforMolly.“Shallwe?”Mollyacceptedtheoddinvitationintoher
ownhouseandCalebfollowedherthroughthedoor.

“How’s the coffee?” Caleb leaned against the counter, his perfectly pressed khakis and
button-upshirtastarkcontrasttotheunrulymopofchestnutcurlspeekingfromunderhis
hat.

“Wonderful,”Mollyadmitted.“I’mgettingalatestartthismorning.”SheregardedCaleb
outofthecornerofhereye.Helookedfamiliar,butshecouldn’tplacehim.

“Howdoyoutakeit?”sheasked,pouringthehotliquidintoacup.

“Black,” Caleb said. Bright blue eyes studied her. “You’ve certainly grown up since the
lasttimewecrossedpaths,Molly.”

“Really?”Mollywaited.Soshedidknowhimfromsomewhere.

“Yeah,JackandIwerebuddies.Unfortunately,Idon’trecallbeingformallyintroducedto
you.Iwouldhaveremembered.”

“Wewerecloseaschildren,butwegrewapart.”Mollyblinkedawayhisappraisinggaze
andtookasipfromhercup.“Youdidn’tgotoschoolhere,didyou?”

“No,I’moverinEvanston.JackandIhadafew…mutualacquaintances.Arethetwoof

you…?”

Yes.“No.”

“Well,inthatcase,I’dliketobuyyoudinner.”

“I appreciate the offer, Caleb, but I’ve already got a lot on my plate.” Caleb drained his
cup and set it in the sink. “If you change your mind, Molly, I promise I can make you
forget about everything on that plate of yours.” He retrieved a card from his wallet and
handedittoher,then,noddinghisheadinthedirectionofJack’stree,added“I’llberight
overthereforthenextfewweeks.”

“Not doing a damn thing, I’m sure.” Henry’s voice carried through the screen door.
“Thanksforlettingmeusethephone,MissColeman.”

“Molly,please.Andanytime,Henry,althoughI’mnotusuallyherethistimeofday.”

“Well,then,Iguesstodaywasourluckyday.”Henrysmiled.

“Itsurewas.”Calebgrinned,hisblueeyeseatingheralive.“I’msurewe’llmeetagain.”

ChapterEleven

Molly wrung her hands and paced the small kitchen. Her light cotton sundress drifted
againsthermid-thigh,cradledherbreasts,andsimmeredwithaninnuendothatmadeher
nervousashell.Seductionwasn’texactlyherstrongsuit,andifJackdidn’tgethomesoon,
she’dchickenout.

But it was too late for that. The crunch of gravel through the screen twisted her insides
intoaknot.TheenginediedonJack’smonstroustruckandMollydartedawayfromthe
window, afraid that if she saw him before he saw her, she’d go running up the stairs to
diveherfavoritepairofjeans.He’dalreadyturnedherdownoncethenightbefore;twice,
and odds were she’d never recover from the blow to her ego. Seconds later, Jack burst
through the back door in a way that had already become familiar to her—his dress shirt
unbuttoned, the tie slack around his neck—with a pizza box in one arm and a bottle of
wineintheother.Hestoppedshortwhenhesawher.

“You look incredible.” The words were slow to come, his voice quiet, careful. Molly’s
heart tore in two—one half longing for Jack and the other trembling with nervous
anticipation. She had little time to take sides, however, because it took precisely one
second for Jack to drop the pizza and wine on the kitchen table and cross the room to
claimhermouthwithhis.

Molly’s body responded without the slightest bit of reconciliation with her brain. She
pressedagainsthim,tryingdesperatelytostopthefreefallofheremotions.Jack’sfingers
tangledwithherhair,pullinghercloserwithagentleinsistence.Theaircrackledwitha
tangibleintensity,butJack’severymovewasslowanddeliberate.

“Whatareyoutryingtodotome?”hewhispered,breathingthewordsintohermouth.

“Jack.”Mollyshudderedashishandtracedthelengthofherthigh.Jack’smouthmethers
withagrowl.Heslidhishandsdownherthighsandeffortlesslyliftedherfromthefloor.

Molly instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, her dress riding to her waist. She
wassuddenlyveryawareofherthinpantiesandhowwettheywere.

Jacktooktwounsteadystepsandfellwithheragainstthecounter.Mollyloosenedhergrip
on him just enough to reach his fly. Between her shaking hands and the impossible
pressurefromtheothersideofthezipper,theattemptwasfutile.Jacktorethetieoffhis
neckandthrewtheshirttothefloor.

“I spent half the day wishing I could make love to you,” he said—his voice husky, his
hands once again in her hair, “and damned if I’m not about to explode.” Then, without
waitingforherreply,hekissedher.Mollyopenedhermouthtomeettheexquisiteprobing
ofhistongueandnothingelseintheworldmattered.Evenintheslowburnofthemoment
sheclungtohim—herhandsclaspingfiercelyagainsthisbareback—wishinglikehellshe
neverhadtolethimgo.

Andhesensedit.

“I’mnotgoinganywhere,Molly.”Hemurmuredthewordsagainstherlipssoshefeltas
wellasheardthem.

Mollyclosedhereyesanddroppedherheadtohisshoulder,relinquishingthetasteofhim.
For a long moment all she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears. Jack’s arms
tightenedaroundherandshefelttheprotectivestrengthwhereshebothneededandfeared
itmost—herheart.

“Ihavetotellyousomething,Jack.”

Jackdrewawayfromheruntilhelookeddirectlyintohereyes.“There’snothingyoucan
saytomethatwillchangewhatIsaid.I’mnotgoinganywhere.”

“I know,” she said—and she believed him. “But I am.” Nothing about Jack’s expression
suggestedconfusion,shock,anything.

“Youknow?”

Jack stroked her hair and met her gaze head on. “Arthur didn’t waste any time bringing
yousituationtomyattention.”

Mollybitherlipandtriednottoshowheranger.He’dknownallalong,andshefeltlikea
damned fool. “I planned to tell you tonight.” Jack remained quiet for a long moment.
“Molly,noonecouldhavepickedupallofthesepiecesalone.”Hisgazelockedwithhers.

AflashofangerrailroadedMollywithhiswords—wordsthatsurelyreferredtotheshards
ofherexistence.Sheswungoffthecounterandmethisgazewithdefiance.

“We’renottalkingaboutpieces,Jack.Wearetalkingaboutmylife.”

“That’snotwhatImeant.”Jackranhishandsthroughhishair,pushingthickstrandsaway
fromhisfacewithadeepsigh.

Mollyopenedhermouthtorespondbutnevergotthechance;aknockrattledtheflimsy
screendoor.Jacksworeunderhisbreathashestartedacrossthekitchentoopenit.Inspite
of her frustration with him, she couldn’t help but admire the way he moved through the

room.

Calebstoodatthedoor,andhedidn’tbothertohidetheappreciativelookinhiseyeswhen
hesawher.Mollyshimmiedherdressfartherdownherthighsandhopedherhairwasn’t
astousledashermindwas.

“Thisisn’tagoodtime,man.”Jackstood,blockingthedoorway.Mollywenttothedoor
andnudgedJackoutoftheway.Hedidn’tgofar,andsheremainedacutelyawareofhim
standingprotectivelyoverhershoulder.“Hi,Caleb.WhatcanIdoforyou?”Sheoffereda
friendlysmile.

“IhavesomemorepaperworkforJack.”Heliftedhishandandwavedamanilafolder.

“Come on in. Can I get you a drink?” Molly elbowed Jack in the ribs—hard—and he
finallybackedoutofthedoorway.

“How about I get you one? The offer to buy you dinner still stands.” Caleb stepped
throughthedoorandmethergazewithaconfidentgrinthatofferednoapologies.

“She’sofflimits,”Jacksaid,hisvoicecold.

CaleblookedbackandforthbetweenJackandMollyandhelduphishands.

“Sorryman.Shetoldmeearliertherewasn’tanythinggoingonbetweenthetwoofyou.”

Jack’sexpressionslidtoMolly,thistimelacedunmistakablywithpain.Shit.

JacksnatchedthefolderfromCalebandtorethroughthebackdoor,mumblingsomething
aboutthebriefcaseheleftinhistruck.

“Caleb,JackandIare….”Whatcouldshesay?Pickingupwheretheyleftofffiveyears
ago?Onthevergeofhavingsex?

Itwasagoodquestion.Mollyfiddledwithherdressandstaredatthefloor.

“Honestly,Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingonbetweenus,butI’mhopingtofindout.”Caleb
reacheduptotouchMolly’scheekandsheliftedhereyestomeethis.

“Thatbastardhassomekindofluckwiththeladies,”hesaidinasoftvoice.Mollysucked
in a shaky breath. Caleb lifted a lock of her hair and let it fall through his fingers, one
strandatatime.Anintimategesture—toointimate.“Caleb—”shebegan.

Thebackdoorslammedagain.

“Here are your damn papers.” Jack’s frosty words draped a chill over the room so
effectivelythattheynearlypuckeredMolly’snipples.

Calebtookthefolderwithoutlookingatit.“That’squiteawomanyou’vegotthere,Jack.
Ofcourse,youneverhavelettheprettyonesgetaway,haveyou?”Alazygrintuggedhis
lips.“Thatremindsme,Emilyaskedmetosayhello.”JackshotCalebacoldlook.“Your
sister?Sheneverwantedanythingtodowithme,sodon’tevenstartthiscrap.”

Molly’seyesdartedbackandforthbetweenthetwomen.

“Oh,shealwayshadacrushonyou,Jack.Youjustenoughsensenottogoaftermybaby
sister,soshenevergotwhatshewanted.”

“Well,thatmakestwoofus.”Mollymutteredunderherbreath.Ornot.

Jackshotheraharshlook.“Molly,dammit,that’snoneofhisbusiness!”Calebraisedhis
eyebrowsandtookabigstepofretreat.Heliftedhishandsinmocksurrender.“I’mnot
getting in the middle of this.” He started to open the door, and then paused to look at
Molly.“JackandIhavebeenfriendsforalotofyearssoI’mnotgoingtosteponhistoes,
butifanythingchanges,you’vegotmynumber.”JackstillfumedafterCaleblethimself
out.Hejerkedachairawayfromthetableanddroppedintoit,gesturingtowardthepizza.

“Haveaslice.It’syourfavorite.”

Mollyflippedtheboxopenandstaredatthetoppings.“Howdidyourememberthat?”

“HowcouldIforget?”

Molly’sheartmeltedalittleinspiteofhisfrigidmonotone.

“Whydidyoutellhimtherewasnothingbetweenus?”Jackstoppedhermidsentence.He
picked up a piece of pizza, blew out an angry breath, and dropped the slice back on the
cardboard.

Mollyopenedhermouthandcloseditagain,speechless.“Ithoughtourrelationshipwas
noneofhisbusiness.”Buttheretortrangweak.Hiswordsflewacrossthetable,hisvoice
tight.“Thefactthatyoulethimthinkyouwereavailablemakesitmine.”

Theysatthereglaringateachother,asilentshowdownofwills.FinallyMollygotupand
retrievedacoupleofwineglasses.SheplacedthemonthetableinfrontofJack.

“Thanksforbringingdinner.”

“Thanksforwearingthatdamndress.”Heofferedasmallsmile.Mollygrabbedasliceof
pizzaandtookalarge,unladylikebite.

“Youwanttoheatthatup?”Heofferedabemusedsmile.

“Heattherestofitup.Thisoneisasgoodasgone.”Mollystoodtoturnontheheatand
letJackslidetheboxintotheoven.Hepouredtwoglassesofwineandofferedherone.

Mollypolishedofftherestofhersliceandfingeredthestemofherglass.“Look,weneed
totalk.”

“Youthink?”

“I’mleavingJeffersonHeights,”shesaid.Simpleandtothepoint.“Ican’tstayhereafter

…youknow.”

“Youdon’tneedtoleavetown.”

“Ican’tstay.”

“Youcan’trunfromyourlife.”

Molly almost choked on her wine. “Are you kidding me? You, the guy who slept with
everygirlwho’dhaveyou?Andthenranawayfromeverything?IsthathowI’msupposed
tocopewiththis?”

Jackslammedhisfistontothetable,makingMollyjumpandtheglassestotitter.

“Ididn’trunaway;Iwenttocollege.Andbesides,diditeveroccurtoyouImightknow
whatI’mtalkingaboutbecauseIdidleave?”

Mollyglaredathim.“Youcan’ttellmehowtogrieve.I’vejustlosttheonlyfamilyIhad
leftandnowI’mabouttoloseeverythingtheyspenttheirlivesworkingfor,andyouwant
metosetupatentandwatchyoustartover?Whatkindofpsychclassdidyoulearnthat
in?”

“Dammit,Molly,Idon’twantyoutowatchanything!Iwantyoutherewithme!”Sudden,
thicksilencecloggedthespacebetweenthem,andforthefirsttimethedistancefeltlike
more than air. Jack’s words slammed against Molly with physical force, sending her
reeling.Sheshookherheadandsqueezedhereyesshutuntiltheyhurt,buttheconfusion
surrounding her relationship with Jack didn’t budge. The oven timer broke the silence.
Jackretrievedthepizzafromtheovenandclickedthedialoff,kickinghisdiscardedshirt
acrosstheroomonhiswaybacktothetable.

Molly cleared her throat. “I’ve had second thoughts about doing … this.” She paused.
“About having an affair with you, because, well, my feelings are real and I won’t be
aroundtofinishwhatwestart.”

Jacklookedup,aglintofhopeinhiseye.

“Ididn’twanttogetmyhopesupaboutus.ButIcan’tstayhereanyway.Ican’tstayhere
andwatchsomeoneelsetakeovermylife.”

“Molly, no one has to take over your life.” He pushed the pizza box out of the way,
reachedover,andtookherhands.

“My land is my life.” She yanked her hand away. “If anyone could understand that, it
shouldbeyou.Whyelsewouldyoucomebackheretosomanybadmemories?”

“Foryou,”hesaidwithouthesitation,staringcleanthroughtotheothersideofhersoul.
Mollyshivered.

“You’restartingover,andIcan’tstay.There’snofutureforus.”

“I want you with me, Molly. Let me help you.” The emotion wavering in Jack’s voice
madeMolly’seyesgrowhotwithunshedtears.

“Youalreadyleftmebehindonce,Jack.Ican’thandleanotherlossrightnow.”Thetears

won,drippingdownherfaceandlandinginfatplopsonthetable.Ashadowbitintothe
sweetnessofJack’sexpression.“Thatnightchangedme,Molly—youchangedme.Every
damnthingIhatedaboutmyselfchangedfiveyearsago,andIhaven’tbeenwithanyone
since.”

Mollystaredathim,slack-jawed.“Allthroughcollege…?”

“Notaone.”Hereachedacrossthetableagaintotakeherhands.“Imadeamistakeback
then and it came at your expense. I’m so sorry I hurt you, Molly, but when you set me
backonmypompouslittleass,Ilearnedathingortwoaboutmyself.”JackliftedMolly’s
handsupandkissedthem,aday’sworthofstubblescratchingandticklingher.

“Likewhat?”shewhispered.

“LikeIcan’tthinkofanyoneelseI’dratherspendmylifewith.Icamebackheretoask
youtobemywife.”

Molly stared at him, fresh tears filling her eyes. “But you know I can’t stay … .” Jack
grinned.“NotthereactionIhopedfor,butit’salotbetterthanthelasttimeIaskedforyou
forsomething.”HeduckedwhenMollypickeduparollofpapertowelsandthrewthemat
him, then fired back by pulling her around the table to his lap and wrapping his arms
aroundher.Everyinchofherbodysizzledfromthecontact,andjudgingbythesizeofthe
thirdpartycrowdingforspaceinhislap,shewasn’taloneinherreaction.

“IwilldoeverythingIcantosaveyourfamily’sfarm,andyouhavemywordonthat,”he
said,trailingafingerfromherneckdowntothelineofhercleavage.

“It’snotyourproblem.”Mollytriedtosoundfirm,butvoiceshookwithemotion.

“Sure it is. If we’re joining our empires, losing that land will cut mine in half.” He
tightenedhisgriponherarmsbeforeshecouldswathim.

Molly stared at him, loving the shock of dark hair tangling with his eyelashes and
wonderingifitwasevenpossiblehecouldbeserious.“Idon’tknowwhattosay,Jack.”

Hethreadedonehandthroughherhairandbrushedherlipswithhis.“Don’tsayathing.I
stillhavealottomakeupforbeforeIearntherighttoaskyoutomarryme,andthatstarts
withearningyourtrust.”

“Idotrustyou,Jack.”Mollybreathedtheconfessionashishandslidupherthigh.

“You’re just saying that,” he said with a silky grin. “And after that little incident with
Amy,Ithinkyoudeservemore.”

“Whatdoyoumean?”Molly’seyesnarrowedatthementionofArthurCallahan’sbratand
—accordingtoalmosteveryoneinJeffersonHeights—JackGeller’slatestonenightstand.

“ImeanIwanttoprovetoyouI’mnotouttonotchmybedpost.”Hecircledherthighsin
anaughtytrailwiththetipsofhisfingers.

“That bedpost you’re using belonged to my grandparents, so I wouldn’t recommend
notching anything.” She grinned her warning. “As for your own bedpost, I’d imagine
you’vesaweditinhalfbynow.”

“Ouch!IguessIdeservedthat.WhatifIjusttieyoutothebedinstead?”OneofJack’s
fingersslidbeneaththefabricofMolly’spanties,fillingherwithajoltofelectricitythat
lefthertremblingfromheadtotoe.

“Grandmawouldbeafteryouwithherrollingpin,”Mollysaid,herheartcareeningwildly
throughherchest.

Jackabruptlyremovedhisfingerandsmiledcontentiously.“Wewouldn’twantthat,now,
wouldwe?”

Heturnedtoherandcradledherfacewithbothhands.ItwasallMollycoulddotostay
uprightashotwavesofdesirefloodedher,renderinghersenseless.“Look,Irespectyou,
and I want to prove it. I will make love to you when—or if - you agree to become my
wife.”

“What if I want you before then?” Molly whispered, channeling her inner vixen and
strokingtheobviousridgeofhiserectionthroughhisjeans.Jacksquirmedathertouchbut
didn’twaver.“Thenyou’llsayyes.”

ChapterTwelve

Jackwasn’tkidding.Thenextseveraldayspassedinariotofsweettorture.Hisso-called
respectwasrelentless—hedidn’texactlykeephishandstohimself,buttheotherpartof
himshewantedsobadlystayedunderwraps.Bulging,moreoftenthannot,butofflimits
allthesame.

Molly wondered what he did with that particular problem. The idea of Jack touching
himselfdidlittletosettleherlibido,althoughitdidmakeherfeeloddlyshy—

afeelingonlytrumpedbytheideaofhertouchingherself.Shestillwonderedhowmuch
he’dfiguredoutthedayhepoppedinonherathergreenhouseoffice,andherperpetually
heatedbodymanagedaflusheverytimeshethoughtofit.Andalthoughshedesperately
wantedtorecapturetheblissful,tumblingreleasehe’dsoeasilycoaxedfromherthatday,
she doubted she’d manage to match the feeling on her own. And her choice loomed. In
spiteofthefactthatJackhadyettomakelovetoher—orperhapsbecauseofit—Molly
wonderedmoreandmorehowshecouldeverwalkawayfromhim.He’dcertainlyearned
her respect, but she couldn’t promise to marry him. Not with the house of her dreams
springingupwithineyeshotofaheartbreakthatjustwouldn’theal.Witheightdaystogo
untiltheforeclosuresaleandsixlargefiguresneededtopreventit,herhopesweren’thigh.
Mollysteppedthroughthebackdoorofthesaggingfarmhouseandwalkedbarefootacross
theyard,enjoyingthetickleofthegrassunderherfeet.Anoldplankswingswayedgently
in the breeze atop a tangle of Black-Eyed Susans and Gerber Daisies, and she headed
straight for it. She tested the aged ropes before sitting on the wooden board, a pang
descendingthroughher.Sheknewhergrandfatherstrungthemtwodecadesagoforatiny
pig-tailedgirlwhothoughthehungthemoonandwhohadbeennolessimpressedbythe
swing. Through the years this had become one of her favorite spots. And, like all the
others,itwasjoinedmercilesslytoherchildhoodmemoriesofJack.

She wriggled her bare toes through the flowers, marveling at the way the once barren,

packedearthhadbeentakenoverbytheblooms.Hergrandmotherfussedendlesslyabout
the swing positioned over her flower bed, and sure enough, Molly and Jack eventually
carvedatrenchofskidmarksbelowitspaththatcausedthebedtofloodeverytimerain
fell.Butyearslaterthethrivingplantsnearlybrushedthebottomoftheplank,dissolving
intoablurofcolorsasMollygingerlypushedofffromthemoistground.Ifonlyshecould
healaswholly,sheandJackmighthaveachance.

“That’showI’vealwayspicturedyou,youknow.”Jack’svoicecreptthroughthesolitude,
soquietshealmostthoughtsheimaginedit.

Theswingdriftedtoastop.“How’sthat?”sheasked,meltingatthesightofhimstanding
on the lawn several feet away. With that devilish look in his eyes and a grin that
perpetuallyfeignedinnocence,italmostseemedasifnotimehadpassed.Buttheripped
musclesofhisbaretorsoandbroadexpanseofhischestindicatedotherwise.Nowonder
shecouldn’tthinkofanythingelse.Shecravedit—shecravedhim.

“Carefree.Innocent.Inmymind,you’vealwaysbeenthepictureofeverythingIlost.”He
walkedovertotheedgeoftheflowerbedandsatinthegrass.Thesunsimmeredonthe
horizon, casting a golden light across his already bronzed skin. “Do you have any idea
how many times I’ve wanted to turn back the clock to this?” She watched him as he
lookedaroundtheyard,hiseyespausingonthemanyoutbuildings,nodoubtremembering
the freedom of being a kid with hundreds of acres beneath his feet and a thrill around
everyturn.

“Wouldyouchangeanythingifyoucould?”Theswingsteadiedtoahalt.Mollywriggled
her bare feet through the flowers, careful not to tear the plants. Her movement set the
swinginmotionagain.Shefearedhisanswer.

Jack’seyesrestedonher.“No.”

“No?”

“Iwouldn’twanttoendupanywhereelse.Thedetailsdon’tmatter.”

“Theydomatter,”shepersisted.

“IhandledeverythingtheonlywayIknewhowatthetime.Youcan’tspendyourlifewith
regrets.”

“Butifyoucouldhavebackwhatyoulost—”

“Itdoesn’tworklikethat,Molly,andyouknowit.Allwehaveisrightnow.”

“Andalotofmemories,”sheadded,atouchofbitternessinhervoice.

“Goodones,Molly.”

“Notallofthemaregood.”Shepaused,fightingthesorrowofhermemories.“Weusedto
besoclose,Jack.Whydidyoustopcomingoverhere?”Heshrugged.“It’shardenough
beingateenageboy.Whenyourbestfriendisagirl,yougetalotofflack.”

“That’snotmuchofareason.”

“Isthatwhyyouwon’ttrustme?BecauseIstartedhangingoutwiththeguys?”

“It’smorethanthat,”shesaidtohim,hervoicesteady,“andyou’retrivializingsomething
thathurt.Alot.”

“I’mnottrivializinganything.Itoldyoubefore,Ican’tchangethepast.”

“Butyou’ve got tounderstand how thepast makes it hardfor me totrust you now. You
didn’tgetallofthosegirlsintoyourbedwithoutknowingexactlywhattosayandwhento
sayit.”

Jackremainedforalongmoment,twistingtwopiecesofgrasswithhisfingers,appearing
undulyfascinatedbythegreenribbons.“Idohavearegretortwo,”hefinallysaidwithout
lookingup.

“Butyoujustsaid–”

“I said you couldn’t live with regrets. I didn’t say I never had them.” He abandoned his
studyofthelawntomeethereyes.“Iregretyouwon’tbemyfirst.IwishIcouldgivethat
partofmyselftoyouthewayyou’regivingittome.”

“WhosaysI’mgivingittoyou?”Shelaughed.

Hedidn’t.

The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving streaks of orange and purple in its wake. As
darknessfell,firefliesbegantolightthesky.

“Hey,Molly?”Jacksatupstraight,hiselbowssplayedonhisbentknees,hisbarefeetand
torsoridiculouslytemptingintheambertwilight.“Gotanyjars?”

“Jars?Whatfor?”

Hejumpedtohisfeet.“Forcatchingfireflies!”Hereachedacrossthesleepingbloomsand
tuggedherfromtheswing.

“Jack,that’smean!”Butsheallowedhimtopullhercloseanyway.

“No,it’snot.We’llletthemgo.”

“Youwereahorribleinfluenceonme.”

“If you think I’m done influencing you, you’re mistaken.” He growled with a smile,
tracinglinesupanddownherspinewithhisfingertipsthatsentshiversscurryinginquick
succession.

“I do believe I’m off limits.” She countered his argument with a touch of goodnatured
sarcasm,alltooawareofthewarmlengthofhisbodynowpressedtohers.

“Admitit,”hesaid,hismouthtouchinghers.“Youtrustme.”

“Yes.” She breathed against him, dizzy when his lips swept to her neck with soft, warm
nibbles.

“Yes?”Hefroze.

”Ayes.”Shelaughed.“Nottheyes.”Hertouchgrazedthefrontofhisjeans.

“MaybeIjustwanttokeepyouhangingforalittlewhile.”

“Baby,”helaughed,“thereain’tnothinghangingonmerightnow.”Andasiftoproveit,
hegroundhishipsagainstherinanintimategesturethatnearlymadeherexplodeonthe
spot.

“Jack?”shesaidonceshecaughtherbreath.“Ifthisisreal,Idon’twanttoloseyou.”

Hestrokedherhairandwrappedherinawarmembracethatmadethewholeworldfeel
rightagain.“Itisreal,”hepromised.“Andyouwon’t.”

ChapterThirteen

“Ibroughtyousomething,”JacktoldMollythatnightashedroppedathick,bandedstack
of papers on the sofa next to her. Still damp from a shower, he wore a pair of gray
sweatpantsandaplainwhiteteeandstillmanagedtolooksexyashell.Mollyrearranged
hernightshirtandtuckedherlegsbeneathher,alreadystartingtooverheatdespitethefact
she’d stepped out of a cold shower less than thirty minutes before. And a cold shower,
she’d learned, did nothing to kill sexual desire. In fact, the harsh spray teased her hot
body, plucked at her hardened nipples, and left her gasping for breath. Far from making
herforgetsex,itwassex.Ofcourse,withJackaroundevenpokingthecentersoutofthe
donutsshemadeforthecoffeeshopremindedherofsex.

“What’sthis?”sheasked,heatingupanothertendegreesassheinhaledthescentsofsoap
andaftershaveclingingtohisskin.They’drunthroughtheyardforanhour,barefootand
laughing,catchingfirefliesandchasingoneanotheruntiltheywerebothsweatinginthe
humid darkness. True to his word, Jack let the fireflies escape unharmed, but Molly
remainedmoreconvincedthanevershewouldn’tbesolucky.Shewasalsoconvincedshe
wantedtostaywithhim.Theideaofhimsittingonthatnewporchwithherbyhisside
lured more appealing every time she thought of it, but until the issue with her own land
wassettledshewasn’tsureshecouldmakethepromise.Knowingshewouldlosethefarm
andwakingupeverydaytowatchsomeoneelseworkherlandwhiletheirchildrenplayed
onherswingandcaughtherfirefliesweretwodifferentthings.Shewasn’tsureshecould
vowtoendurethatfortherestofherlife.Andsheowedittohimtobesure.

Jackhelpedhimselftoacanofcolafromthefridgebeforedroppingonthesofanextto
Molly.“Areyougoingtolookorwhat?”

Mollyglanceddown.“Yourhouseplans?Times,what,fiftycopies?”

“Notquite.”Heofferedherthecan.

Mollyshookherhead,herbreathcatchingattheintimategesture.“SowhatamIsupposed
todowiththese?”

“Plan,decorate.Seethoseredmarksonthewalls?”

Mollynodded.

“Electrical sockets,” he said. “I read something about women and plugs. Seems they’re

always in the wrong spot or there are never enough. So let me know where you want
them.”

Molly’sguttwisted.Apparentlyhewasseriousaboutputtingherinchargeoftheinterior,
and the warmth that settled through her had nothing to do with the sexual voltage that
pluggedtheairbetweenthem.Makingplanswithhimwaseerilynatural,andshesatfar
too close to the hard lines of his body at the moment to know if it was the rebounding
closenessoftheirchildhoodorsomethingmuchbiggerthatsparkedthefeeling.

Jack,oblivioustoherplight,flippedthroughthepagestoshowherenlargementsofeach
room.Helandedonabookletatthebackshehadn’tnoticed.“Paintchips.”Hemadethe
announcementwithbravado.“Whitewallsareout.”Mollymanagedalaugh.“Whitewalls
areout?”

Heshrugged.“Isawadecoratingmagazineinthebanklobby.Andthatbetterneverget
out!”

Molly waited for him to thump his chest with mammalian pride, but he didn’t.
Unfortunately, in the meantime she found herself staring intently at the way the stark
whiteshirtrestedagainstthetan,chiseledmuscleofhisbicep.Sheblinkedandclamored
fordistraction.

“Thefarmisforsale.”Mollypulledaflieroutofthesidetabledrawerandheldthepage
upforhimtosee.“Theagencysentthistome.It’spartofanationaldirectmailcampaign
forleadstheycollectedfromtheirwebsite.”

Jacktooktheflierfromher.

“So what happens if I get an offer on the farm? We won’t be able to close before the
auction.IsArthurgoingtosellitanyway?”

“Arthurisdreamingifhethinkshe’llmakehismoneybackfromanauctionaroundhere,”
hesaid,staringatthepage.“I’veneverhandledaforeclosurebefore,butifArthurhasa
braininhisheadhe’llletasalegothrough.”Helookedupatherandfrowned.“Whythe
helldidn’tyoutellmeyouhadthisplacelistedwithanagent?”

“Didyoujustsayyouwerehandlingtheforeclosure?”

“Arthurputmeinchargeofalltheloans.Ididn’twanttoworryyoubybringingitup.”

“Don’tyouthinkyoucouldhavementionedthatbefore?”Molly’svoiceshookwithanger.
“Itmayjustbeajobtoyou,butthisismylife.”

“AndI’mdoingeverythingIcantogetyourlifeback!”

Butitwastoolate.She’dstormedfromtheroomwithoutabackwardglance.

ChapterFourteen

Jack tapped a pencil against his desktop, drumming a nervous off-tempo beat even he
foundannoying.Hecouldn’trememberthelasttimehebeensoonedge,particularlynow
that the rest of his life hinged on what happened when he picked up the phone. But he
wantedthisforher.Failurewasnotanoption.Notevennineo’clockyet,thedayalready

ranked one for the record books. Too keyed up to sleep, he’d insisted on making the
deliverytoHarlaninMolly’splace.Harlanhadbeenonarampage,anditwasthroughhis
crumb-spewingrantsthatJackhadlearnedMollyhadgivennoticetoquitherpastrygig
theweekbefore.Andthen,Godhelphim,he’dseenAmyCallahan.Layingeyesonher
had pained him, plain and simple. He’d almost lost Molly over his own stupidity and
whateverthehellAmythoughtshecouldaccomplishbydragginghimtoherbed,andhe
didn’tlikebeingremindedofhismistake.

Hishastyretreatfromthecoffeeshophadlefthimintheprecisepositionhe’dhopedto
avoid—withtimetokill.Themorehethoughtaboutallthedifferentwayshisplancould
go wrong, the more nervous he got. And Ben McPherson had an uncanny talent for
smellinguncertainty.

BythetimeJackfinallypunchedinthenumbersforBen’sdirectline,hishandstrembled.
One way or another, Molly’s world was about to change. He just hoped the overhaul
wouldbeforthebetter.

“McPherson.”

“Ben,it’sJack.”

“Geller!YoucallingtobegforasecondchanceatthatjobIofferedyou?”Jackglanced
around at the dusty plank walls of his small office at the bank. He could practically see
Ben in his own well-appointed corner suite, the sun-streaked glass and steel skyscraper
offering a world-class view of the New York skyline. Jack’s tiny wooden office was
nothing by comparison, but not even the offer of a six-figure salary had been enough to
keephimfromachancewithMolly.

“Actually,Ineedafavor.It’ssortofaninvestment.”

“Really?What’sthereturn?”Straighttothepoint,asalways.

“Financially, not much.” Jack knew Ben would consider money without a return a loss
sincehecouldearnwithitelsewhere,buthedidn’tmentionthatlittledetail.Hewouldn’t
haveto.

A long silence. Finally, “This sounds like one hell of a favor, son.” Jack hesitated. He
didn’tknowhowmuchheshouldtellBen.Abusinessmanthroughandthrough,he’doften
expressed regret for not being more of a family man. But regrets hadn’t prevented him
fromworkingsevendaysaweek,soJackdidn’tsuspecthisempathywouldrundeep.He
decidedtotakeaneutralapproach.

“The property bordering mine is scheduled for foreclosure next week. It’s about five
hundredacres.Ican’taffordthepricesetbythebank,butit’sasteal.It’slistedwithan
agency.”JackrattledoffthewebsiteandpropertynumberfromMolly’sflierandlistened
astheclackingofakeyboardreboundedthroughthephoneline.Bensighed.“Howdoyou
benefitfromowningthisland,son?Youaren’tgoingintofarmingareyou?”

Jackgrimaced.“Mostofthelandcanbeleasedouttothebiggerfarmingoperations.”

“Ataprofit?”

“It’sagoodrisk.”

“Andyouwantmetofinancethisforyou?”

Jackhesitated.“Yes.”

Thelinefilledwithsilence.“Howdoyouplantorepaymewiththatpiss-antjobyoutook
out there?” Ben grunted. His tone gave no hint of a decision, but Jack forged ahead
anyway.Hejustprayedhewasn’tabouttomakeahugemistake.

“Thejobyouofferedmeinthecity,Ben.I’mgoingtotakeit.”

*****

Inanunusualmove,Arthurspentthefirsthalfofthedayoutoftheoffice,leavingJack
freetohashoutthedetailswithBenoverthephone.Now,heonlyhadtoclearthesaleof
thepropertywiththebankpresident.Arthur,however,wasnowheretobefound.

Jackfeltonlytheslightestbitsheepishknowingheplannedtoquithisjobatthebank—
mostlikelywithoutpropernotice-buthecouldn’ttakethechanceofmakingArthurprivy
tothatlittledetailaheadoftime.Jacksuspectedthealmightydollar—thefullsalepriceof
Molly’spropertyinsteadofthepenniesonthedollarhe’dgetatauction—wouldoutweigh
anyplansArthurwouldinventtonixthedealoutofspite.Still,Jackhadn’tlosttheurgeto
watchhisbackwhereAmy,andbyextension,Arthur,wereconcerned.

HewantedtoleavethefarminMolly’sname,butBenwasskepticalenoughwithoutJack
askinghimtotaketheriskonastranger.Jackcouldn’tsetupfinancingforMollywithout
her consent, either, so he resorted to the only option he had left. He’d buy the farm
himself, and Ben would hold the mortgage. He just hoped like hell Molly thought the
solution was close enough to owning the place herself. Determined not to miss Arthur
whenhecamein,Jackskippedhisusualtriptothedinerforlunch.Bythetimeheheard
Arthur’sdoorbangopen,itwasafterfouro’clockandJack’sstomachgrowledwithsuch
volumethatitsoundedasifhehadasnarlingdogunderhisdesk.Hesuspectedhismood
might be comparable to that of his imaginary canine pal, but that didn’t stop him from
making a beeline for Arthur’s office. He had big plans for the night, and this time, he
didn’twantanythingfloatingaroundunresolvedtoruinthem.

He skidded into the doorway and rapped on the frame in one easy motion. Too late, he
realizedArthurhadcompany.Amy.

Jack’smouthhungopenatthesightofher,thewordshavingbeatenahastyretreatwhen
theyoungerCallahancameintoview.Amy,ofcourse,tookhisreactionasacompliment.

“WhyJack,”shesaid,“youflatterme!”

Jacksnappedhisjawshut.“Ineedtotalktoyou,Arthur.It’sbusiness.”

“Sit down, Jack!” Arthur bellowed, jovial. “Amy here was just asking about you.” Jack
shotAmyashortnod.“Money,Arthur.Income.”

“Oh, hell, boy. It’s Friday! Let it wait. We’re celebrating! Isn’t that right, angel?” he
croonedtoAmy.

“It’sokay,daddy.Icangofreshenup.”AmykissedArthuronthecheek,bendingoverto
giveJackaviewofherbacksidebeforeshesqueezedpasthimtothedoor.Hewrinkled
hisnoseasanoverpoweringcloudofperfumegratedhim,andthenclungtotheairinher
wake.

Whenthedoorclickedshut,Arthur’saffabledemeanordidaquickoneeighty.

“MyAmyseemsquitetakenwithyou,Jack.”

HewaitedforArthurtocontinue.

“Idon’tlikeit.Youdidn’twasteanytimetakinghertobed,andthewholetownknowsit.
You ruined her reputation, son, but she’s more than willing to forgive your little
indiscretion.Iwantmylittlegirltobehappy,sothetwoofyouhavemyblessing.”

“Blessingforwhat?Jackbitbackhistemper—nottomentionhiscommentsaboutAmy’s
precious reputation - trying desperately to remember how much he needed Arthur’s
cooperationforthesaletogothrough.ForMolly.Arthurstaredhimdown.“Justdon’tdo
anythingstupid,son.Iwanthertobehappy.You’renotexactlywhatIhadinmindasa
suitor, but you have the corporate earning potential to support her in the lifestyle she
desires.” Like hell, Jack thought, remembering the stories Arthur shared over the past
week.

ArthurplantedahardenedlookonJack.Jackglaredback.

“Amyisnotasinnocentasyouthinksheis,”Jackfinallysaid.

“Maybenot,boy,butthewholetownsawyoucreepingawayfrommyhouseonerecent
morning.” Arthur raised a brow. “That was a first. Before you, she handled her
relationships with discretion. She maintained respect from this community.” Jack fought
the urge to laugh. Amy played the society princess well enough—not that Jefferson
Heightshadmuchofaninnercircle—butshesurehadherdaddyfooled.Arthurreadhis
mind.“Shewentthroughanunfortunatephaseinhighschool,butshe’swellpastit.She’s
very involved with the community and her charity work. Amy is an upstanding young
womanandshedeservestobetreatedlikeone.”HepausedandshotJackahardlook.“In
fact,Idemandit.”Jackdidn’tbothertoargue.Hecertainlywasn’ttemptedtoshareAmy’s
bedsidemannerswithArthur.Infact,hehadpreciselyonethingonhismind.Butbefore
he could harness his thoughts enough to broach the topic of the sale with Arthur, Amy
sidled back into the room. Arthur leaned back in his chair, a sedate grin crossing his
features.Jackdidn’tmissthehintofathreatbehindit.

“So,Jack,whatwouldyouliketodotonight?”Amyasked,hersmileassweetassugar.
Shereachedforhisarm.

“Actually,I’mgoingoutoftown.”Hetreatedhertothenicestsmilehecouldmuster.“I’ll
seeyouonMonday,Arthur.”

Jack made his escape without waiting for a response. His head spun with the ridiculous
realityofwhathadjusthappened,prayinghe’dfigureawayoutofwhateverthehellthey
had in mind before the news of his so-called relationship with the angelic Amy reached
Molly.Andbeforethepropertywenttoauctionwithouthim.

ChapterFifteen

OnemomentMollyhadbeenstretchedoutonthesofainadreamyhaze,thoughtsofJack
hotonhersenses,andthenexthewasthereintheflesh.Shemusthavedozedoff,because
shehadn’theardhimcomein,butwhenhislipsbrushedherswithateasing,feather-like
intensity,herbodycameinstantlyawake.

“Jack.Whatareyoudoing?”Shehadn’tforgottenthehurtoffindingouthewashandling
theforeclosure,norcouldshefullyletgoofheranger.Sheknewherownpridehadgotten
intheway,butthatdidn’tstopherfromblamingJackforhispart.Butheseemedtohave
puttheargumentbehindhim.Aslowsmiletraipsedacrosshisface.“Getreadytosayyes
tome,mydear.”

“What?Why?”MollystaredatJack,whosatbeforeherlikeaseriouslysexycatwitha
mouthfulofcanary.

“Ijustmighthavethekeytosavingyourfarm.”

Thatbroughtherinstantlyawake.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”

“Uh-uh,notyet.FirstIwanttoshowyousomething.”Thelongshadowsandaglanceat
the clock revealed it was after eight o’clock—a full three hours later than she expected
him.Herstomachtoldhershewaslongoverdueforfood.Hetuggedherbythehanduntil
shegotupandfollowedhimintothekitchen.

“Wherearemypastries?”

“Calebhasthem.”Asifthatexplainedathing.

“WhydoesCalebhavemypastries?”

“He’stakingtheminforyourtomorrow.Ithoughtyoumightwanttospendthedayinbed
withme.”

Shewasn’tsureifsheshouldbeangryorecstatic,butanodd,tastytingleradiatedthrough
herbodyofitsownaccord.“Youdidthat?”

“Yes,ma’am.AndguesswhatelseIdid?”

Molly was almost afraid to ask. “Do I want to know?” He took a step away from her,
triumph born in his expression. “I arranged for a bakery in Driver to handle the Sunday
andMondaydeliveries.Youknow,incaseyouwantedtospendthewholeweekendinbed
withme.”

Mollygapedathim.“Harlanagreedtothat?”

Jack grinned devilishly. “I brought him samples. He approved. In fact, they’re all set to
takeoverforyouifyou’rereallyseriousaboutquitting.ButItalkedtoHarlan,andhe’d
reallylikeyoutostay.Thenagain,ifyouinsistongettingupthatearly,Icanthinkofa
few other activities you might prefer instead.” Molly blinked. She had to be dreaming.
Hadtobe.“AndCaleb?Howdidyouconvincehimtodothis?Youwereprettyrudeto
him,youknow.”

“CalebandIgobackalongway.He’snotgoingtoholdagrudge.Besides,hegetstostare
atLaceythewholetimehe’shelping.Hewasmorethanhappytovolunteer.”

“Youdidn’twanthimlookingatme,Jack.”

“That’sdifferent.”

Atleasthehadthegoodsensetolooksheepish.

“Comeon.There’ssomethingIwanttoshowyou.”

Shefollowedhimoutside.Hestoodattheedgeoftheporch,staringoffinthedirectionof
his house. The pale moonlight made the framed skeleton look ghostly against the black
sky.Justthatday,mostofthedownstairshadsprungtolifeonthefoundation.“Lookat
that,”Jacktoldhersoftly.

“What?”Mollywalkeduptohimandpeeredintothenight.

“Wehaveafrontdoor.”Hesmiledather.

Ignoring the butterflies his simple declaration let loose in her abdomen, she gave him a
sidewayslook.“Youhaveaslightlybiggerholeinonespotthaninmostoftheothers.”

“That’s the doorway. Eventually there will be a door there. We have a threshold.” A
threshold. Married people needed thresholds. Emotions doused her, goose bumps
marching up and down her flesh in an unorganized, albeit passionate, promenade. The
momenthungbetweenthem,theimplicationofhiswordssettinghernervesonfire.

Fire.“Youhungry?”sheasked,readytoskipthewholefoodideaandheadstraightforbed.

“Yep.”Hiseyestraveledthelengthofherbody.Mollyshivered.Thepassioninhislook
caressedheronaphysicallevelwithanintimacybeyondwhatanytouchmightbring.

Iregretyouwon’tbemyfirst.Hiswordsswayedthroughher.Hewaswrong.Nomatter
howmanygirlshe’dbeenwithbefore,sheknewshe’dbethefirstheevermadeloveto.
She could see the emotion in his eyes, the love wrestling for space with a sexual desire
thatseemed,shenotedwithamusement,tobewinningthewarinthesouth.God,shewas
goingtoself-combust.

“Let’stakeawalk,”hesaidmysteriously.

“Ithoughtyouwerehungry.”

He laced his fingers through hers and led her down the porch steps and into the night.
Underthesprawlofdarkness,thesoundsofnightshiftedthroughthestillairinachorus
ofchirpsandhums.Theworldbelongedtothem,theonlyvisiblelightcomingfromthe
brillianceofthemoonandthroughthewindowsofthefarmhouse,duskywithage.

Mollyeyedthefieldandhersandals.“Youwantmetowalkacrossthereinthedark?”

Jack stared at her, amusement lighting his expression. “Okay, we’ll do this your way.”
Andbeforeshecouldmakeanoise,hehauledherontohisbackandstartedoffacrossthe
field. Molly shrieked but quickly discovered an adult piggyback ride blew the kiddie
version out of the water. She relaxed into the rhythm of his stride, snugging her arms

againsthischestandenjoyingthesteadyrockofhishipsbetweenherlegs

“Whatarewedoinghereinthedark?”sheasked,hervoicehushedagainstthestillness.
Shewasgladforthedark,hopingithidtheflushofhercheeks.

“Itoldyou.Iwanttoshowyousomething.”

Molly watched as he slid a few cinderblocks to the ground in front of the opening that
wouldonedaybethefrontdoor.Thescentofnewwoodpermeatedthethickairandshe
wonderedhowJackfeltstandinghere—ifhethoughtofthepastorlookedforwardtothe
future.

Inamoment,shehadheranswer.

Jackjumpedupanddownonthepileofcinderblockshe’darrangedafewtimes,adjusted
forawobbleortwo,andthentestedthemagain.Oncetheydidn’tbudge,hewalkedback
to Molly. Without saying a word, he gathered her into his arms, picking her up and
carryinghereffortlesslyacrossthethreshold.

Withoutbreakingeyecontact,heloweredherfeettotheplywoodfloorofwhatwouldone
daybethelivingroom.Heslidonehandtocupthecurveofherjaw,strokinghercheek
with his thumb, holding her up with his gaze. Molly caught the slightest wobble in his
expressionandrealizedwithastarthewasnervous.Herbreathcaught.Surelyhewasn’t
…?

Hedroppeddowntooneknee.

Hewas!Tearsfilledhereyesbeforehecouldsayathing.

“No fair! Let me do this right so I’m not having nightmares of Bonnie coming after me
withherrollingpin.BecauseIhaven’texactlydecidedagainsttyingyouuptothebed.”

Molly nodded, a small sputter of laughter escaping through the tears. Jack took a deep,
shakybreath.“Molly,Iloveyou.Youcompleteme,andIdon’twanttospendanotherfive
minuteswithoutyou,letalonefiveyears.Anywhereinthisworldyouwanttogo,youtell
me. I’ll be there for you, I promise.” He paused and wriggled his hand into his pocket.
Mollyneverlookedpasthisface,toolostinhiseyesandthemomenttoconcernherself
withwhatheheldinhishand.Theringmighthavecomefromagumballmachineforall
shecared.

Mollysniffled.

“Willyoumarryme,Molly?”

She nodded before he even finished the question. Jack slid the ring on her finger and
kissedher,wipingthetearsfromhereyes.“Yes,”shesaidbetweenkisses,fallingheadfirst
into his embrace. “There’s nothing in the world I want more.” There were no more
questionsbetweenthem.Shemeantitwithallofherheart.

ChapterSixteen

The ring most certainly did not come from a gumball machine. Three sparkling, round
diamonds lined the gold band, a larger one in the center flanked by a slightly smaller,

althoughequallybrilliant,stoneoneitherside.

Mollyhadneverseenanythingmorebeautifulinherlife.

“Jack,” she gasped. “You shouldn’t have done this!” Obviously recovered from his bout
withnervousness,heletloosewithaneasygrin.“Doyoulikeit?”

“I love it!” She held the ring up to capture the moonlight, and a thousand fragments of
lightbeamedbackather.

“Thesalesgirlsaidthethreediamondsweresupposedtosymbolizethepast,present,and
future.Thatsoundedaboutrightunderthecircumstances.”

“It’sperfect,”shebreathed,marvelingatthefactthateventhefitwasright.

“Youareperfect,”hewhispered,slippinghishandbehindherheadtopullhercloser.“I’ve
lovedyouforsolong.”

Molly tried to respond, but he stole the words from her mouth with a soulstirring,
breathtakingkissthatlefthermeltinginhisarms.

“Jack?”shemurmuredagainsthisnibbles.“Willyoumakelovetomenow?”

“Justtryandstopme,”hegrowled.

*****

ThebackdoorslammedopenwithsuchforceMollythoughtforsureitwasbroken.She
didn’tcare.SheandJackfellthroughthedoorwayinafeverishtangleofarms,legsand
pantingbreathsthatleftherseeingstars.

Jack stumbled backwards, trying unsuccessfully to kick off his boots. He almost landed
himselfandMollyonthefloorintheprocess.

“Justleavethemon,”shechokedoutjustashesucceededinfreeinghimself.

“Hangon,”hesaid,breakingawayfromherforatorturousmoment.Hepushedtheback
doorshutandlockedit.Beforehecouldturnaround,Mollyhadherarmsaroundhimfrom
behind, her fingers following the naughty trail of hair down his abdomen and into the
waistofhisjeans.

Jackgrabbedherwristsandgentlytuggedthemoutofhispants,turninginthecircleof
her embrace until he faced her. Molly shivered at the raw emotion that clung to his
features,thewayhiseyesdarkenedwithneed.Butthechargehungbetweenthemforonly
amomentbeforehepickedherup.Ignoringhersqueals,heheldherstraddledagainsthis
hips in a deliciously erotic twist on her earlier piggyback ride. She hooked her ankles
behindhimandclutchedhisneck,wastingnotimeindeliveringapathofteasingkisses
fromhiseartothesoftundersideofhischin.

“Dammit, Molly, you’re going to get wetter,” he said with a throaty growl. “Let’s go
upstairs.”

Shestartedtotellhimshewasalreadywet,butthelightvibrationofhisvoiceagainsther
skinlefthersenseless.Instead,shenoddedwithoutaclueastowhetherornothenoticed

herconsent.Hedidn’tappeartobewaitingforaresponse,either;infact,therockofhis
gait suggested he might be taking the stairs two at a time. Molly thought she’d dissolve
whenheloweredherontothebed,hislipsmeetinghersinaslow,silkykissthatlefther
deliciouslyunsureofwhichwaywasup.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He moved his hands from her thighs to her belly,
takingherdresswithhim.

“Are you kidding me?” Pleasantries forgotten, he ripped the dress over her head and
playfullypushedherdowntothebed,sinkingdownafterher.Hereyesflutteredclosedas
hetookthetipofherbarebreastintohismouth,swirlinghistonguearoundthepeakand
sending an avalanche of wet heat tumbling through her. Molly moaned and arched into
him in a futile attempt to get closer. He was delightfully preoccupied with an award-
winning assault on her nipples, teasing one side with his thumb and finger while his
tongue worked a number on the other. For a few sweet moments, Molly couldn’t
rememberherownname,letalonewhatkindofhare-brainedthinkingledhertoturnhim
down years ago. She was only half aware of his hand as those fingers slid down to her
side,evenastheyblazedahottrailalongthecurveofherwaist,pasttheswellofherhip.
She barely felt the fabric of her favorite tangerine-colored panties as he tugged against
them.Butwhenhemanagedtoslipacoupleofverytalentedfingersunderthewetfabric,
shealmostshotoffthe.

“Duly noted,” Jack said wryly, not giving an inch in spite of the way she writhed
helplesslybeneathhim.Ormaybebecauseofit.Instead,ateasinggrincastinganimpish
glowtohiseyes,hewedgedtherestofhishandunderthedrenchedfabricandslidthose
twodevilishfingersdeepinsideofher.Shedidn’tknowwhatintheworldhedidatthat
point, but with his thumb caressing her arousal and a deep, rolling sensation filling her,
Molly didn’t stand a chance. She was already gone. She didn’t open her eyes to look as
sheplummetedthroughspace—asweet,deliciousfreefallthatsenthercareeningthrough
emotions she’d never felt before. And probably hadn’t—at least not before Jack walked
backintoherlife.Butshedidn’thavetolooktoknowhewasthere,andsointunewith
herbodythathistouchgrantedblissfulreprieveatjusttherightmoment,tenderlycoaxing
hertoagentlelandinginhisarms.

Their bodies stilled as the chaotic sounds of night, riding an unusually brisk breeze
throughtheopenwindows,meshedinanoddchoruswiththewhisperoftheirbreaths.

“Molly?”

“Mmm?”Shestretchedagainsttherumpledsheetsandgazedathimthroughheavy-lidded
eyes.

“Isn’tthisthepartwhereyoustartbeggingformore?”heaskedweakly.Mollywidened
hereyesandstaredintothefaceofthemansheloved,notinghedidn’tlooktheleastbit
pale in spite of his pitiable tone. That was pretty impressive considering every drop of
bloodinhisbodyhadtohavefledtohisgroininordertocreateadisplayasimpressiveas
theonestillthreateninghiszipper.“Nah,I’mgood.”Beforehecouldwipethehorrified
lookoffhisface,sherolledoverandpulledhimtohisknees.Feelingboldandcoy,she

hookedherfingersthroughhisbeltloopsanddrewhimcloser.Herbodyalreadyhummed
formore,andthewaythemoonlightofferedimpossibledefinitiontohisbroadshoulders
andthechiseledmusclesofhisupperbodydidnothingtodeterthosethoughts.

Jack’ssharpintakeofbreathwasalmostlostbehindthehissofthezipper.Shepulledthe
elastic of his boxers clear and eyed her jutting prize with dueling emotions of love and
lust,notparticularlyconcernedwithwhichofthetwowonout.Hekickedhiswayoutof
hisclothesandcrawledontopofher,pushinghergentlybackonthebedashewent.He
kissed her neck in a series of light, barely-there flutters that gave her goose bumps. The
silken,rock-hardridgeofhiserectionnosedbetweenthem.

Molly strengthened her hold around him, feathering her fingers through his hair and
pullinghimimpossiblycloserastheytangledtogether.

“Jack,”shebegged,hisnameescapinginapleadingwhisper—oneimmediatelylosttothe
forceofhismouthonhers.

Too soon, he pulled away. “I need to go get something,” he said, his voice laced with
regret.“I’llberightback.”

Mollynodded,emotionsoverflowing.Heonlydisappearedfromhersightforamoment,
but the moment lingered long enough to make the room feel far too empty. However
fleeting the sensation, it scared the hell out of her. Jack strutted back into the room
carrying a small box, the flap already torn open. He removed one packet and tossed the
rest on the floor. A ripping sound echoed through the silence; a second later he climbed
backonthebed.Insteadofdivinginassheexpected,hepaused,holdinghisbodyaway
fromhersonstrong,well-definedarms.

Even in the shadows of night, she clearly saw intensity in his darkened eyes, the hazel
flecksturnedtosteelinthedimlight.Onlytracesoftheboyishcharmshelovedsomuch
remained aloft in his burning expression. The way he wanted her—loved her—nearly
broughttearstohereyes.Butonadeliciouslyprimallevel,themanlookedasifhecould
eatheralive,hisbodypowerful,strong,hard.Thesightofhimwantingherdrewenough
heattodriveherwild,butbythelooksofhimhewasmorelikelytodriveherthrougha
wall. His entire body glinted rock hard—all man, muscle, and legend. And the legend
wantedher.

Molly slid her arms around his back and pulled him closer, the hard planes of his body
hittingherinalltherightplaces—oneinparticular.

Fulfillmentwasanunderstatement.Euphoria,perhaps.Whatevertheword,Mollyclosed
her eyes and soared. When their bodies moved together, the only conscious thought she
entertainedwasthatnothinghadeverfeltsorightinherlife.

*****

Jack was in serious trouble. For all his experience, he sure as hell had never done this
before. Sinking into her body for the first time made him wonder how she could be so
damnhotandnotcombust,orsounbelievablywetandnotputouttheflamesthatlicked
hissoul.

Jack’s self-control teetered on non-existent, but Molly’s quiet whimpers brought out a
tenderness in him. “Are you okay?” he whispered, just as lost in the depths of her blue
eyesashewasinthesoftnessofherbody

Herbreathy“Oh,yes”wasalmosthisundoing.Thenshewriggledherhipsbeneathhim
andhefellevenfurther,notquitegraspinghowjustbeinginsideofhercouldfeelbetter
than anything he’d ever known—not that he cared to remember a damn thing at the
moment.Nothingintheworldmatteredbutthewomaninhisarms.Molly’sbreathcame
in a series of sultry gasps and erotic tremors, the little puffs of air tickling his skin. Her
hairfannedaroundheronthepillow.Thefaintlighthighlightedthemassoftumbledcurls,
making a soft halo around her beautiful face. He stared at her in disbelief, incapable of
acceptingthefactthatshewashis.Everydevilishinchofher.

He gave up on plans to make this last; he’d waited for this—for her—far too long.
Resignedtoabriefopeningact,Jacktangledhishandsinherlusciousmaneandheldher,
suckingandtastinghermouthwithasmuchselfcontrolashecouldmuster—anditwasn’t
much.Sherespondedbykissinghimdeeply,sendinghisgentleseductionintoatailspinof
feverishbreathandrecklessneed.Herealized,toolate,they’deasedintoamind-bending
rhythm—slow and chivalrous, but raging with an internal frenzy that sent him over the
edge.Andjudgingbythespasmsradiatingfromhertight,hotbody,hetookherwithhim.

Jacklosthimselfinthesensation,justtwothingsclearinhismind:everymomentofthe
waithadbeenworthit,andhe’dbedamnedifhe’deverlethergo.

ChapterSeventeen

Molly woke Saturday to the sound of rain drumming against the roof of the farmhouse.
Theoldstructurecreakedagainstahowlingwind,uneasyonitsfoundationasthestorm
buffetedtheclapboards.Anoddchillblanketedthethinair.Mollydrewinadeepbreath,
relishing in the unusual absence of the stifling heat of summer. Jack’s arms tightened
around her when she stirred, sending an unruly streak of need through her body. She
closedhereyestothegraymorningandletthememorieswashoverher,asubiquitousas
therainpouringagainstthewindowscreensanddousingthesills.

Mollylosttrackofhowmanytimestheymadeloveduringthenight,butsheremembered
everyamazingmoment.Mollyfiguredshe’dbeluckyifshecouldwalkatthispoint,but
luckier,shegrinnedtoherself,ifshecouldn’t.SpendingthedayinbedwithJackdidn’t
seemlikesuchabadidea.Andjudgingbythehardlineofhiserectionalreadynudging
herfrombehind,hewouldlikelysharethatthought.Mollynestledagainsthim,lovingthe
wayhisbodywrappedprotectivelyaroundhers.Impossibly,shewantedhimagain.

Sheshiveredastenderkissesdottedthebackofherneck.“Goodmorning.”Jack’ssleepy
voicegreetedher,hiswarmbreathatickleonherbareskinagainstthechillintheroom.

“The best.” Molly moved to capture the arm he rested around her waist before it could
followanaughtytrailupherbody.Buthegotpastherandcuppedherbreast,rollingher
nipplebetweenhisthumbandfinger.Alreadyhotforhim,approvalspilledfromherlips
intheformofathroatysigh.

His erection nudged her from behind, and without thinking Molly rolled her hips and
archedtohim.Eventhoughhewasadeliciouslytightfit,heslidintoherdepthslikehe
wasmeanttobethere,theirbodiessoonlockedintoafranticrhythmthatleftherclutching
at the sheets and crying out his name. And when the first exquisite spasms rocked her,
Jackrespondedwithamoan.Liquidheatspilledbetweenthem.Almostimmediately,Jack
buriedhisfaceinherhair.“Oh,God,Molly.I’msosorry.”

Mollyblinkedherwaybackdownfromhercloud,herbrainfinallysettlingonhiswords.
Theyhadn’tusedprotection!Hermindrushedtoherinternaldatebook,andsherelaxed.
Theyshouldbesafe.

Mollyrolledoverinhisembracetomeethiseyesasagustofwindshookthehouse.“It’s
okay,Jack.Ithinkthetimingisokay.”Shetracedtheoutlineofhisjawwiththetipofher
finger.“Itrustyou,”shetoldhiminasoftvoice.Relief,thenmischievouswarmthfilled
hiseyes.“I’veneverdonethatbefore,youknow,”hesaid,tighteninghisarmsaroundher.
“Iguessyou’remyfirst,afterall.”Thesummerstormwasn’ttheonlythingstirringtheair
ofthelittlefarmhouse.Mollyrelishedintheoddcombinationofsexualdesireandplayful
easethatstrungbetweenthem,stillinaweofthefactthathewantedher.AndJack,forall
ofhiscockyconfidence,musthavefeltthesameway.Shecaughthimstaringatherwith
childlikewonder,ahalfsmiletippinghislips.

Asthefarmhouseshookagainsttheweather,Mollyrelishedwiththeknowledgethather
foundationstoodsolid.AnywherewithJackwouldbetheonlyhomesheeverneeded.

With a start, she remembered the phone call she’d received yesterday—before he’d
distractedherbygivingherhisringandspendingtheentirenightmakinglovetoher.

“Iforgottotellyou.Igotafullpriceofferonthefarmyesterday,”shesaid.

“Really?Didyouaccept?”

Hesoundedfartoocasual.

Sherolledoversoshewasontop,facinghim.“Youknew?”

“Yep. I meant to tell you something yesterday, too. Remember I said I might just have
foundthewaytosaveyourfarm?Ifoundyouabuyer!”Mollyrolledhereyes.“Areyou
willingtoshareyourbrilliantplan?BecauseI’mnotsurehowwegettokeepthefarmif
wesellit.”

Jackgrinned,slowandeasy.Justthewayhemadelove.“Accepttheoffer.”

“That’sit?Accepttheoffer?Sellit?”

“Aslongasyoudon’tmindsellingtome.”

Mollystartedtotellhimhecouldn’taffordit,butrealizedatthesamemomentshehadno
idea if he could or not. But it wouldn’t make sense to sell her home if he could write a
checktosaveit,wouldit?“I’mnotsureIfollow.”

“Actually, you’re selling to a man named Ben McPherson. He’s the one with the deep
pockets.Idroppedmostofmycashonthenewhouse.”Mollyscootedbacktoherknees

andsatupasJackcontinued,lookingmorepleasedwithhimselfbythemoment.

“He’s going to buy the farm, pay off Arthur for you, and then he’ll sell it back to me. I
triedtogethimtojustwritemeacheck,buthedoesn’tlikemequitethatmuch,”Jacktold
herwitharuefulsmile.

“IsArthurgoingtoholdoffontheforeclosureuntilthesalecloses?”Hopeglimmered.

AshadowflashedacrossJack’sfeatures.“Ihaven’thadachancetotalktohimaboutit,
but he’d be a fool not to let it go through. This is a full price offer, not a short sale. He
can’thopetomakeclosetothatifhehastoputitupforauction.”

“Sohowlongwillittaketoclose?”

Jackshrugged.“KnowingBen,theclosingwon’ttakelong,butit’llbetight.”Wow.She
settledbackagainstthecushionsandreachedforhercupofteaonthecoffeetable.Thetea
wascold,soshefiddledwiththeteabag.

“Areyouokaywiththis?”Hepeeredather.

Shemethiseyes,fightingtears.“Idon’tknowhowtothankyou.”

“You already have. Hell, I still owe you one after last night.” A flush crawled through
Molly’s body, no doubt dousing her face in shades of scarlet. Without the cover of
darkness,shynessbitdownontherealityofmoaningandscreamingandcallinghisname.

Jacksqueezedherbaretoesaffectionatelyandclimbedoffthesofa.Hecrossedtheroom
todigthroughtherefrigerator.

“HaveyoutoldArthur?”

“No.Itriedtotellhimyesterday,buthewastiedup.“I’lltellhimMondaymorning.Ben
is going to fax some paperwork for you to sign to set the process in motion.” He
reappearedwithapieceofpieandgrabbedaforkfromthedrawer.

“AssoonasBenbuystheland,”hecontinued,“Arthurisoutofthedeal.Benwillfinance
thepurchaseforus,butthelegalownershipwillbeinmynameuntilwepayhimoff.”He
satdownnexttoherandfedherabiteofpie.

“Wecangetmarriedfirstifyouwant.”

“Huh?”

He shrugged, the dim light dancing in his eyes. “I don’t want you worrying about me
runningoffwithyourfarm.”

Molly laughed. “Where are you going to take it, Jack?” She swatted at him. “I’m not
marryingyouaspartofarealestatetransaction.”

“Hey,I’mtryingtobeconsiderate,”hesaidwithawoundedlook.Heputtheemptyplate
onthetableandgatheredherintohisarms.“Whydon’tyoumeetmeatthebankMonday
morningaroundeleven?Bythen,IshouldhavethingsstraightwithArthur.Wecanhave
anearlylunchtocelebrateandhavethedocumentsfromBennotarized,allinoneshot.”

“Thatsoundsgreat.Ijusthaveonequestion.”

“What’sthat?”

“What’sthecatch?”

Helaughed.“There’snocatch,aslongasyoudon’tmindputtingthefarminmyname.”

Mollyputherheadonhischest,indulginginhisscent,alreadysofamiliartoher.

“WhyshouldI?I’mlettingyouputmeinyourname,youknow.”Jacksnorted.“You’ve
gotapointthere,Mrs.Gellar.”Mollynudgedhislap,grinning.“You’vegotapointthere
yourself,Jack.”

ChapterEighteen

Mollyglanced at theclock. She hadtwo hours before shehad to meetJack at the bank.
Two hours before she’d sign the papers giving him the legal right to act on her behalf
regarding the property. She thought of her grandparents - of the devotion and the pride
theyhadintheirhomeandfamily.Thewaythey’dlovedherand,justascompletely,Jack.
The grandson they never had, they’d called him. Molly smiled, happy tears filling her
eyes.“You’vegothimnow,”shewhisperedtotheheavens,knowingthey’dunderstand.

By the time Molly pulled into the parking lot of the bank, her hands shook on the old
steering wheel. She held her left hand up and stared at the exquisite trio of diamonds
glitteringonthegoldband.Herheartfluttered,hermemorysoalivewiththeeventsofthe
past three days she could scarcely breathe. But it was real. Jack was hers, and the farm
wouldbetheirs—together.

Jackmetherathertruckwiththekindofkissthatwasbestsuitedforthebedroom-orat
leastthat’swhereMollywantedtogotheinstantshetastedhim.“Didyoubringlunch?”
heasked,notquitedisengagingfromhermouthbeforehespoke.Mollygiggled,instantly
comforted.“Sandwiches.Areyoujustusingmeformycooking?”

“Nope,”Jacktoldher,deadpanning.“Youdon’thavetocooksandwiches.”Hecockedan
eyebrow. “But maybe I’ve got a thing for your delivery service.” Molly rolled her eyes
andleanedovertogetthelunchbagfromtheseat.“Whereareweeating?Youroffice?”

Jackpulledherinforanotherkiss.“Ivoteforthebackseat.”

“Mytruckdoesn’thaveabackseat.”

“Butit’sgotabed,”hecountered,pressingheragainstthecab.Betweenhotmetalanda
veryhardplace.

Mollyfannedherselfagainstthebuildingheat.“Maybeweshouldgotoyouroffice.”

“Areyoutryingtogetmealone?”Heteasedher.

Mollyhandedhimthebagandreachedinthetruckforajugofice-coldsweettea.“It’shot
outhere,Jack.”

“Okay,okay,”hesaidwithagood-naturedgrumble.“Butdon’tthinkit’snotgoingtobe
hotinthere.”Hewinkedandleanedovertokissherontheneck,stealinganibblethatleft
herseeingstars.

Dazed,Mollywalkedwithhimtothebank,fullyexpectingarushofcoolairwhenheheld
thedooropenforher.Nosuchluck.Instead,tepidairstewedagainstanarmyofelectric
fans.Theairconditioninginthelobbywaslittlematchtotheheat.MissBellmannedthe
counter, a salad and a glass of water in front of her. Jack nodded to her and led Molly
downthehalltohisoffice.Assoonasthedoorclickedshutbehindthem,hepulledher
intohisarmsandkissedhersenseless.Whenhefinallyrelinquishedcontrolofhermouth,
Molly’shungerhadnothingtodowithherstomach.

Jack,ontheotherhand,switchedgearsandwentstraightforthefood.“Theymissedyou
this morning at the coffee shop. The food was good enough, but Harlan just might lose
some weight before it’s over with.“He at least had the decency to hand her a sandwich
beforehedugintohisown

Molly laughed and sat down in a chair. “I’m flattered, truly.” She noticed a couple of
picture frames on the desk and, curious, flipped them around. Her breath caught. “Jack,
wheredidyougetthese?”

“Mymother.”

Mollytracedherfingerovertheglass.Oneshowedasmiling,teenagedJacksurrounded
byhisgrandparentsandhismother.Theysatonthefrontstepsofhisoldhouseamidapile
of fat orange pumpkins and golden chrysanthemums. Molly recognized a shawl her
grandmotherhadgivenJack’sgrandmaandknewtheimagecouldn’thavebeentakenlong
beforethefire.SadnesswashedoverherasitsankinjusthowquicklyJack’slifechanged.
In an instant, his entire family was gone. At least she had time to prepare - as much as
anyone could—for her own loss. But the other picture put a hard lump in her throat. It
showedherandJack,bothofthemabouttenyearsold.Heheldadrippingwaterhoseand
shewassoakingwet.Nomysterythere.

“Howdidthesesurvivethe…?”Shejustcouldn’tmentionthefire.

“Theyfoundthematthebeautyshop.”

Mollyhadforgottenhismomhadworkedthere.“Whyintheworldhadshekeptthisone
withher?”Shelaughed,rubbingtheglassoverthetwoofthemasifshecouldsmoothher
waterloggedhairbackintoplace.

“Shesaiditwascute.”

“Andyou’vekeptthisphotoalltheseyears?”

Hecastawinsomeglanceherway.“Attheriskofsoundinglikeatotalschmuck,it’sthe
onlyoneIhaveofyou.”

Sheeyedhim.“IfIdidn’tknowbetter,Jack,I’dthinkyouwereasensitiveguy.”

“Schmuck,”hecorrectedthroughamouthfuloffood.Thenheswallowedandwinkedat
her. “No accounting for your taste in men, huh?” Molly tried to glare at him but failed
miserably.Thephoto—knowinghekeptitsolong—gaveheraseriouscaseofthewarm
andfuzzies.Suddenlyshecouldn’twaittosignthepapers.Shewantedtogivehimallshe
had,andtheanticipationofwhatwasabouttohappencurledthroughher.Herlifewould

neverbethesameagain.

*****

Jack stood at the side of the parking lot and watched Molly drive off, the taste of her
goodbyekissstilltinglingonhislips.Hisshoulderssaggedwithrelief.She’dsignedthe
papers, and Jack was one very large check away from keeping his promise to her. He
pushedhisrolledsleeveshigheragainsttheheatoftheafternoonandheadedbackinside,
cursingthetieclinchinglikeanoosearoundhisneck.HewassurprisedtoseeBlueback
atherdesk,butnotsoshockedwhenshescowledathim.HeexchangedglanceswithMiss
Bellandfoundherscompletelyunreadable.

“If you’re finished with your shenanigans, Mr. Callahan expects you in his office,” Old
Bluebarked.

Shenanigans?“Good.Ineedtoseehim.”

Bluegaveasnarlyharrumphashepassed.Jackignoredher.Hecoveredthedistanceto
his office with long strides and grabbed the signed papers off his desk, grinning at the
photoofMollyandhiminawayhewouldn’treadilyadmitto.Cute,hell.Whenheturned
around,heransmackintoAmyCallahan.“Dammit,Amy.Howinthehellcanyousneak
uponanyoneinthosethings?”Hespitthequestionout,eyeingapairofvicioushighheels
thathadherstandingonhertiptoes.

“Ididn’t.I’vebeeninherewaitingforyou.”

“Whatdoyouwant?”

“Ihavetotellyousomething.It’simportant.”

“Yeah, well your father wants to see me in his office. I have orders straight from the
warden.”Heshruggedwithfalseapologyandstartedforthedoor.Sheputahandonhis
armandstoppedhim.

“Jack, trust me. You’d rather hear this from me than from Daddy.” He sighed. “Fine,
you’vegotoneminute.”Hecouldhumorherforoneminute.

“Howaboutninemonths?”sheasked,atouchofdefianceclashingwithanoddtremblein
hervoice.“I’mpregnant.”

ChapterNineteen

Jackpushedthedoorshutatadeliberatesnail’space,usingthetimetocometotermswith
whatAmytoldhim.Hestaredatthecloseddoorforthebetterpartofaneternity,choosing
hiswordscarefully.“Amy,that’snotpossible.Wedidnothavesex.”Amystaredathim,
wide-eyed and ashen. He almost felt sorry for her. Almost. His eyes darted to her
abdomen,takinginthewaysheclutchedprotectivelyatherbelly.“Wedidnothavesex,”
hesaidagain,notsurewhichofthemhewasbentontryingtoconvince.

“Jack,youwereoutofitthatnight.Youweredrunk.ButIremembereverythingyoudid
to me.” Her eyes fluttered and seemed to settle into focus somewhere near his feet.
“You’restillthebestloverI’veeverhad,”shesaidinademure,softtone.Notatalllike

someonewhostoodpoisedtowreckhislife.

“Iwasnotdrunk.ButIsureashellrememberyougivingmesomeTylenol.”

“Jack!Whatareyousuggesting?”Amyreachedforhimandherecoiledsharply,jerking
backwardandhittinghisdesk.Thepicturestoppledfacedown,facessmilingnomore.

“YouknowdamnwellwhatI’msuggesting.”

“Thebabyisyours.Therehasn’tbeenanyoneelse.”

Jack’sheadpoundedashegraspedatthehazymemoriesofthenighthe’dtriedtoforget.
Could it be true after all? He’d convinced himself his love for Molly would have
preventedhimfromdoinganythinghe’dregretwithAmy,butthosepills…Intruth,he
had no idea what happened that night. And if she were really pregnant … . He knew as
sureashestoodtherethetruthwouldn’tmatter.Arthurhadhimbytheballs,anddamned
ifJackdidn’tstillneedhishelp.

Hiswhite-knuckledgriponthepapersMollyhadsignednearlyrenderedthemuselessfor
the fax machine. Numbly, he placed them back on his desk, trying to diffuse his anger
beforeheexploded.IfAmywasreallypregnant—andthatwasabigif—hedidn’twantto
turnhimselfintoatotalassbyscreamingather.

“Justtellmewhyyou’redoingthis,Amy.”Hestoodwithhisbacktoher,handsplanted
wide on his desk. The tension in his arms made his sleeves feel painfully tight. He
snatchedthetieloose,yankingitoverhisheadtoflingthestripofclothacrosstheroom.
Then he jerked his collar free and enjoyed a drop of satisfaction at the ping of a button
hittinganunidentifiedsurface.

Amy’shandslandedonhisshoulders,coldasice.

Heshruggedheraway.“Tell…me…why.”

Amy’sheelstappedawayfromhim.Heturnedtoseehersittinginacornerchair.Shestill
worethatwide-eyedinnocentlook,butwhite-faced.Afraid.Herbottomliptrembledwhen
she spoke. “My baby needs a father. You’ve got a good education and great job and
you’vereallymadesomethingofyourself.AndI’veneverstoppedlovingyou,Jack.”

“Youneverlovedmetobeginwith,Amy.I’veneverbeengoodenoughforyou.”They’d
usedeachotherforsexyearsago,andtheybothknewit.Backthenhe’dbeenproudofthe
conquest;todaythememoryturnedhisstomach.“Didyoutellyourfather??”

Amyshook,rattlingherselffromheadtotoe.“Ofcourse.Therewasnooneelse—ithasto
beyou.”

Jackstaredaholethroughherdementedlittlehead,rememberingthewayshe’dscreamed
afterhimwhenheleftherhouse.Hesnatchedthepapersoffhisdeskandthrewthedoor
open,smashingitintothewall,probablyshakinghalfthebuilding.

“Whereareyougoing,Jack?”

Heignoredher.HecoveredthedistancetoArthur’sofficeinananosecond,thenstopped
at the closed door and stared at Molly’s signature on the contract. The truth wouldn’t

matternow.TherewasnowayArthurwouldletherkeepthepropertyrightnextdoorto
theplacehethoughtwouldbelongtohisbelovedlittlegirl.Theknowledgetorehimapart.

HeknockedonArthur’sdoor,andthenwalkedinwithoutwaitingforaninvitation.

Arthursatathisdesk,red-faced.Jackheldthepapersupandaimedstraightforthesweet
spot—Arthur’swallet.“I’vegotafullpriceofferontheColemanplace.Ifyouholdofthe
foreclosureuntilthedealcloses,you’llgeteverypennyofyourmoneyback.”

Theoldman’seyesflickeredamusement.“You’vegotonehellofalotofnerve,boy.”

“I’m doing my job, Arthur. Handling your loans. Foreclosures are bad for business, and
I’mabouttobringyouasixfiguredealinstead.”

“If you’d spent as much time handling my loans as you’ve spent handling my daughter,
youwouldn’tbeinthishellofamess,wouldyou,boy?”

“Ididnotsleepwith—”

Arthurheldupahand.“Thisisnotupfordiscussion.Mylittlegirlwouldn’tlietome.”

“ThenIsupposewe’llhavetowaittoseetheresultsofapaternitytest.”Arthurglaredat
himandtappedathickfingeronhisdesk.“Letmeseethosepapers.”

Jackhandedthemoverwithoutaword.

Arthurnoddedperiodicallyasheread.“Interestingideayouhavehere,boy.”Hedropped
thewholestackonhisdesk.“ThepartinparticularwhereMissColemanturnedoverher
interestinthepropertytoyou.Whywouldshedothat,Mr.Gellar?”

“I’mgettingyourloanpaidoff,Arthur.Notjustcaughtup,butpaidinfull,yearsaheadof
schedule.Whatdifferencedoesitmakewhyshedidit?”Arthurgaveadark,threatening
smile. “I suspect this is more than a little bit personal. You told me once you weren’t
involvedwiththeColemangirl,yetshe’sgivenyouquiteagifthere.Andyoutoldmeyou
weren’tinvolvedwithmydaughter,butshe’scarryingonehellofagiftforallofus,now
isn’tshe?”Jackbitbackthedenial.HehadtoldArthurtheyweren’tinvolved,andnowhis
credibilitywasshot—notthatitstoodachancetobeginwithwhenitwashiswordagainst
Amy’s.

Arthur tapped the paperwork and shook his head. “You won’t get this land deal closed
beforethescheduleddateofforeclosure.Therearesome…complicationswiththedeed.
It’lltakeawhiletoclearthoseup.”

“Complications,myass.Molly’sfamilyhadownedthatfarmforgenerations.I’llbetyou
can’t even locate the original deed.” Ben McPherson left no stone unturned before
agreeing to help; he did not invest in anything without doing his homework. Other than
themortgagewiththeBankofJeffersonHeights,thedeedwasclear.

“Fortunately,” Arthur continued, “I have a solution that will benefit all of us.” His eyes
shiftedfromJacktoAmyandbackagain.“I’llgiveyoutimeforthesaletogothrough,
and you can do whatever noble thing you’ve cooked up to give Miss Coleman her land
back.”

The“but”hungthicklyintheair.

“Ofcourse,you’llhavetokeepyourendofthedeal,son.”

“And what is that?” Not that he wanted to know. Not with the way a satisfied smirk
contortedArthur’sfeaturesintothefaceofamanwhojustwonthegrandprize.

“EitheryoutakemydaughterasyourwifebeforeFridaymorningatnineo’clock,orthe
foreclosuregoesonasscheduled.”

ChapterTwenty

Molly drove the short distance to the coffee shop with a ridiculous grin plastered to her
face. She hadn’t talked to Lacey all weekend, and the fact that Lacey hadn’t called her
oncewasadeadgiveawayCalebhadletsomethingslip.Mollywasdyingtoseeherbest
friendtofillintheblanks.

Mollyparkedandnearlyfloatedintothecafé.Laceystoodbehindthecounter,staringata
displaycasestillhalffullofpastries.Shelookedupandshrugged.“Thisneverhappened
withyourstuff,”shesaidwithawrygrin.Mollyheldoutherlefthand.

Lacey’seyespoppedfromclearacrosstheroom.“Ohmygosh!Calebsaid…but

….Oh,Molly,that’sthemoststunningringI’veeverseen!”

“Isn’titbeautiful?”Mollysighed,crossingtothecounterandsettlingintoachair.

“Itis,”Laceyagreed,eyesshining.Suddenlyhersmilefellflat.“Doesthismeanyou’re
actuallyokaywith…?”

“Withwhat?”

“Youhaven’theard?”

“Heardwhat?I’vebeenwithJackallweekend.”

Lacey’s voice dropped to a whisper even though they were the only two in the room.
“Amyispregnant,andshe’stellingeveryoneJackisthefather.”

*****

Molly stormed the half block from the coffee shop to the bank, not even bothering with
hertruck.Amyhadtobelying,becauseJacksureashellwouldn’t.Mollytrustedhimwith
allshehad,andatthispointshe’dgivenhimallshehad.Jackcouldnotbethefatherof
Amy’sbaby.

Besides,wasn’titalittletoosoontoevenknow?Mollythrewthebankdooropen,causing
it to bang wildly on its hinges. Beatrice Crosby—Old Blue, Jack called her—looked up
withastart,causingherold-fashionedbeehivehair-dotowobbleonitsperch.

“CanIhelpyou,MissColeman?”sheaskedstiffly.

“No.”Mollystormedpastherwithoutasecondglance.

“You can’t go back there!” Beatrice hauled herself up to give chase if the groan of her
chair could be any indication. The floor rumbled under the woman’s weight, and Molly

almostlaughedattheirony.Herworldmightverywellbeabouttocrasharoundher,and
damnediftheearthwasn’tshakingbeneathherfeet.

MollyquicklycoveredthelengthofthehallandpausedinthedoorwayofJack’soffice.
Hislaptopsatopenonhisdesk,butJackwasn’tintheroom.Acursoryglancetoldherthe
papersshesignedweren’tthere,either.

Molly turned to Beatrice. The woman, piled heavily into her dress, stared her down, a
beadofperspirationemergingfromherwrinkledforehead.

“Where’sJack?”Mollydemanded.

“Mr.Gellarisinameeting,”Beatricesniffed.

HehadtobewithArthur.IgnoringBeatrice,herbeehive,andtheglareemittingfromthe
woman’sface,shetookthefewstepstoArthur’sofficeandpausedoutsidethedoor.Her
breathcaughtwhensheheardmalevoices.Evenmuffled,sherecognizedJackwhenshe
heardhim.

God,pleasedon’tletitbetrue,sheprayed,doubtinganyway.Butshehadtohearhimsay
it,andthenshe’dbelieveinhimalloveragain.

JustasMollyliftedherhandtoknock,thedoorflewopen.AmyCallahanherselfstoodin
thedoorway,herinitiallookofsurprisefadingintothesmugexpressionofawomanwho
knewshe’dwon.

Molly narrowed her eyes. The whole town may have fallen for Amy’s nice girl act, but
Mollyneverlikedherbeforeandsureashelldidn’tplanonwarminguptohernow.

“Molly.”Syrupysweetnessedgedtheflatgreeting,butthewarmthdidn’tfindhereyes.

Mollylookedpasther.StraightatJack.

Hestaredatherlikeadeerintheheadlights.Shesearchedhisfaceforsomethingtohold
onto—anything—butallshefoundwasguilt.

“Iwasn’texpectingyoutocomebackhere,”hefinallysaid,hisvoicehollow.

“Let’sgo,Jack.”AmytookastepforwardandbrushedpastMolly.OnlythendidMolly
noticetheirlinkedhands.

Herheartshatteredintoamillionpieces,butshehadtoknow.Shehadtohearthetruth—
fromhim—butshedamnnearchokedonherwords.

“Oh,God,Jack.Isittrue?”

*****

Jack saw every crumbling emotion in her eyes. Molly disintegrated right there in the
doorway,fallingawayfromhimpiecebypiece.Butitwastheshockplayingacrossher
facehurthimmorethananything.Whenhewatchedhershatter,heknewitwasbecause
she’dbelievedinhim.

Theroomfellsilent.JackknewArthurstoodbehindhim,thecontractprobablystillinhis
hand.AmysmiledatJack,thatdamnedsmuglookplasteredtoherface.AndMolly,his

sweet Molly, stood frozen, looking more broken by the second. Words tumbled through
hishead,explanationsandreasonsandexcuses,buthecouldn’tfindawaytostringthem
togetherinanykindoflogicalway.SohesaidtheonlythinghecouldasAmydragged
himaway.

“I’msorry.”

ChapterTwenty-one

“That’squitearing,MissColeman.”Arthur’svoicebrokethroughhernightmare.Molly
self-consciouslytuckedherlefthandagainstherleg,awayfromArthur’spryingeyes.

“Notmyplacetosayso,butI’mnotsosurehowsmartyouweretosignyourinterestover
toMr.Gellar.”

Mollyturnedslowlytofacehim.Shemighthavecried,butthetearsbalked,unwillingto
getinvolved.Notwhenshewasalreadymadashell.

“It’s nothing personal, dear. I thought quite highly of your grandparents, but business is
businessandyou…youjustcan’tseemtohandleit.I’msurprisedyougaveupyourland
so easily, although it’s quite a coup for Mr. Gellar. Surely you don’t expect him to give
thatwindfallback.Itwouldn’tbethefirsttimehedeceivedyoutoday,wouldit?”Arthur
pulledacigaroutofhisdeskandspunitbetweentwofingers.“Whatdoyouthink,Miss
Coleman?Pinkorblueformygrandchild?”AwaveofdisgustslammedMolly,fuelingher
anger.“You’reabastard,Arthur.”

“NottheworstI’vebeencalled,MissColeman.Notbyalongshot.”Hestretchedhisarms
infrontofhim,thesleevesofhisjacketrevealingacrispwhiteshirtinthesecondsbefore
hedroppedhiselbowstohisdesk.Eveninthisheat,heworeafullsuit.Mollyshookher
head. Only the devil himself could stand the temperature, but she reserved that title for
Jack.Thatlying,cheating,sonofa—

“IsthereanythingelseIcandoforyou,MissColeman?”Arthurasked,theinvitationfor
hertoexitclearinhistone.

“Youcangotohell,Arthur,”Mollysaidevenly.Sheheldherheadhighasshebackedout
ofthe office, andslammed the dooras hard as shecould on itsfragile hinges. The door
listedtotheside,broken,whenitfinallycametoahalt.Mollyallowedherselfadropof
satisfaction before she walked calmly down the hall to the bank lobby. She ignored
Beatrice’sscowl,headinginsteadforthegentlesmileofMissBelle.Withtheteller’shelp,
Mollywithdreweverypennyshehadfromthebankandclosedheraccount.Pocketingthe
cash, she walked the distance back to her truck and drove to the little farmhouse where
she’dspentherentirelife.Thetimeshespentgatheringherthingswasmercifullyshort.
Shethrewwhatshecouldtakewithherintoacleangarbagebagandtossedittothefloor
ofhertruck,saddenedbyhowlittleshehad.Asifhecouldsenseherbrokenheart,Fido
howled plaintively, trotting on her heels as she made her way through the worn house.
Mollyclosedherhearttothehappymemoriesthatfloodedeachroom,thelongagoimages
of her childhood mingling bitterly with war-torn thoughts of Jack. His love, tender and
gentleattimes,franticandurgentatothers,hauntedher,butsherefusedtoletthewarmth

washoverher.Refusedtofeelanything.

Shetookaguardedlookaroundthebattereddownstairs,hergazesettlingonFido.Forthe
firsttime,hesitationtauntedher.Flushwithsorrow,Mollyleaneddowntoscruffhisfur,
then,onsecondthought,scoopedhimupagainstalitanyofgrowlingkittyprofanity.She
allowedasmallsmilethenrelentedandreturnedhimtothefloor.Shepoppedopenacan
ofcatfoodandshookherheadwhenthelow-pitchedgrowlsturnedtopurrs.

“You’respoiledrotten,”shesaidtotheindifferentfelineasshesteppedaway.There’sonly
onethinglefttodo,shethought.Shepulledapadofpaperandapenciloutofthedrawer
and scrawled a quick note, leaving it on the kitchen table. Then, with a quiet calm, she
slippedoffJack’sringandplaceditonthescrapofpaper.MollyleanedovertogiveFido
afinalscratchbehindtheearsandfoughttheurgetoturnaroundwhenshewalkedthrough
thescreendoorforthelasttime.Jackowneditallnow—asfarasshecouldsee—andhe’d
madeitclearhislifenolongerhadanythingtodowithher.

Hedidn’tdenythebaby.HechoseAmy.

HemayhavealreadyletMollygo,butshewasn’tgoingtogivehimthechancetoleave
herbehindagain.

*****

Jack hated the fact that Amy sat in his truck, but it remained the least of what he hated
abouther.Hersittingtherelikeshedidn’thaveacareintheworld,flappingsomedamn
blackandwhiteprintoutofaspecksherepeatedlyreferredtoas“ourbaby,”rankedmuch
higher on the list. And her insistence on getting ice cream to celebrate just plain pissed
himoff.Heagreedtodriveherhomejusttogetridofher,butnowshesatnexttohim,
lickingadrippyconeandeyeinghimlikeshe’dratherbelickingsomethingelse.

FortheumpteenthtimeinthethirtyminutessinceMollycaughtthemtogether,hesecond-
guessedhisdecisiontoplayalongwithArthurand,toalesserextent,Amy.Ithadseemed
like a good idea at the time, doing whatever it took to give Molly what she wanted the
most,butwouldshereallywantthisaspartofthebargain?

ThementalimageofMolly,stricken,toreathim.Hedespisedthathehurther,butshe’d
lovedherlandalotlongerthanshe’dlovedhim.Butshe’dtoldhimthelanddidn’tmatter
anymore. She’d chosen him, and he’d stood right in front of her and let her think he’d
chosensomeoneelse.

“Dammit!” Jack swore and hit the steering wheel again. To his slight satisfaction, Amy
jerkeduprightintheseat.Sheactuallyseemedtoedgeawayfromhimasshetuckedthe
photobackintoherpursewithshakinghands.

On impulse, Jack steered into the parking lot of the coffee shop. Maybe he could get in
touchwithMollyandtellherthetruth.Hischestconstrictedwiththerealizationshemight
notlisten.

Jack took a deep breath and tried to sound cordial. “Why don’t you go in and get
somethingtodrink?Ihavetomakeacoupleofphonecalls.”Amy’sfaceflashedrelief,an
unconvincingsmilespillingacrossherfeatures.Hestaredintoherblueeyesandrealized,

notforthefirsttime,howcoldtheywere.Darkandhard,notahintofMolly’sfierylove.
Moneycouldn’tbuythat,andneither,herealized,couldapieceofland.

Shit.HereallyhadtakeneverythingfromMolly.Asfarassheknew,herlandwasgone
andsowashe.

“I’vegottomakeaphonecall.”

Amyjuststaredathim.Finallyshesaid,“Aren’tyougoingtoopenmydoorforme?”

Jackcountedbackwardsfromten,andthenheleanedacrossthecabandthrewherdoor
openfromtheinside.Shegawkedathim.

“That’snotexactlywhatIhadinmind.”

“I need to call the airline to make reservations for New York. I don’t have time to play
gameswithyou.”

Sheblinkedoverathimandcastacageysmilehisway.“Areyoutakingmetothecity?”

“No.” He hesitated, trying to decide if merely tolerating her would be enough. But the
shatteredlookonMolly’sfacefilledhismind,andheknewthedamagewasdone.“Ihave
togoseeaclient,”heexplained,tryingtokeeptheedgeoutofhisvoice.“Iwasn’texactly
expectingallofthistoday,andI’vegotabigdealtoclose.”Amycrossedherarmsover
herchest.“Daddydidn’tmentionyouweregoingtoNewYork,Jack.”

Jack pent up a long-suffering sigh, trying to maintain a hold on his patience. God only
knew what would happen with Molly’s land when he left town if he pissed Amy off.
Beforetheclosing,Arthurstillpulledthestrings,sohehadtomaintaincontrolwithAmy
“It’sanewopportunity.Yourfathergavemefreereintomakemyowndecisions,andthis
is a big one. And,” he added pointedly, “I’ll lose a lot of money if this deal doesn’t go
through.”

“Money”wasthemagicword.Amyleanedtowardhimasifsheactuallyexpectedakiss,
butJacksnappedhisphonetohisearandlookedaway.Shefinallygaveupanddropped
outofhisjacked-uptruck,lettingoutasqueakwhenshehitthepavementinthoseankle-
breakingshoes.Poorkid,hethoughtofthebaby.Andforthefirsttime,hewonderedwho
thebaby’sfatherreallywas.Amywasprobablytooselfishtorealizethat,whoevertheguy
mightbe,hehadarighttoknowabouthischild.Assoonasthedoorslammedshutbehind
Amy,JackputacallthroughtoBen’sdirectlineandsaidamightyprayerthemanwould
answer.

When he heard Ben’s gruff greeting, he launched. “Ben, it’s Jack. I’ve got a situation. I
needacertifiedcheckforthepayoffonthatproperty.I’monthenextflightfromKansas
Citytopickitupmyself.”Jackspittheinformationoutinastringofbreathlessthoughts,
finallypausingforoxygen.

“Youwantmetojustgiveyouthatmuchmoney?”Bendidn’tbothertohidehissurprise.

“Ben, you can keep every commission I earn from you until I pay you back. Keep my
wholedamnsalary,Idon’tcare.Ineedthis.”Jackdidn’tlovehavingtogroveltotheman
whowasjustdaysawayfrombecominghisemployer,buthispridetookadistantsecond

toMolly.“Please.”

Silence.Jackcouldalmosthearthewheelsturningintheoldman’shead.Finally,

“Son,areyouinsomekindoftrouble?”

“Not the kind you might think. I’ll explain when I get there, okay? I’ve got to make
reservations for a flight.” Jack said another silent prayer he could get out that day. The
clockinhismindtickedloudly.

SodidthesoundofakeyboardfromBen’sendoftheline.“I’lltakecareoftheflight,”he
said after a moment. “It’s three hours non-stop from Kansas City. There will be a car
waitingforyouatJFK.”HegaveJacktheflightdetails,thenpausedbeforeasking,“Did
yougetthosepaperssigned?”

Dammit.Arthurhadthem,andJack’slaptopsatonhisdeskinhisownoffice.

“She signed them,” was all he said before he clamped the phone shut, ending the call.
Only half relieved, Jack flipped the phone open again and dialed Molly. No answer at
home,andthecellwentdirectlytovoicemail.Withaferventprayeritwasn’ttoolate,he
headedintothecoffeeshop.HehadnoideaifMollywasthereornotsinceshenormally
parkedaroundback,butheknewLaceycouldmanthefiringsquadwellenoughforthe
bothofthem.

Sure enough, Lacey stood armed and ready. Her icy look did a respectable job of
banishingthesummerheatandhumidityclearoutoftheatmosphere.Heglancedaround,
sawAmyoccupiedinthemiddleofacrowdofwomen,andheadedstraightforLacey.

Hedidn’tmincewords.

“Lacey,IswearIamnotthatbaby’sfather.”EveryfiberinJack’sbodypleadedforherto
believehim.Someonehadtobelievehim.

Laceyglaredathim.Sheleaneddownoverthecounterandsomehowmanagedtoscream
athiminabarelyaudibletone,“Thenwhyareyoumarryingher?IhaveneverseenMolly
soupset.God,Jack,youbrokeherheart.”

And his, dammit, not that it mattered. The only person he cared about was Molly. Jack
lookedaroundand,seeingnoonewithinhearingdistance,openedhismouthtotellLacey
asmuchofthetruthashespitoutinthirtysecondsorless.Butbeforehecouldtellhera
thing,Amy’svoicebrokethroughthecrowd.

“Jack!Whyareyouallthewayoverthere?Comehere,darling!”Jackswore.Heslippeda
business card out of his shirt pocket and slid it to Lacey, hoping his actions weren’t
noticed.“IfyoutalktoMolly,tellhertocallme.Please,Lacey.Ipromiseit’snotwhatit
lookslike.”

Laceystaredatthecardonthecounter,makingnomovetopickitup.“Kindofhardto
misinterpretalloftheweddingplansgoingonoverthere.”

“Jack!Didyougetyourflight,sweetie?”AmycameupbehindJackandclutchedhisarm
possessively.

Laceycockedaneyebrow.“Aflight?”

“JackisgoingtoNewYork,”Amypurred.Thensheaddedinastagewhisper,

“Heinsistsongoingalone.Ithinkhe’sgoingtobuymyengagementring.Youcan’tbuy
anythingdecentaroundhere.”Shesniffedherdistastewithatossofherhair.Jackthought
oftheringhe’dgivenMollyandtriedtohideasmirk.He’dbetmoneyAmywouldrisk
breakinganailtogetherhandsonthatsucker.AsJacklistenedtoAmydroneonabout
how much better everything was in New York—although not as good as Paris—Lacey
madeacasualmovetodropherdishclothoverhisbusinesscard.Sheslidtheduooffthe
counterwithadarklookinhisdirection.

“Well,Amy,that’sjustexcitingforyou,now,isn’tit?”shedrawledwhenshecouldfinally
getawordin,notsoundingtheleastbitexcitedherself.Amylappedupthemockgesture
of friendship. “Oh, Lacey, have you seen the pictures of our baby?” She dug into her
overpricedpursefortheultrasoundscans.

“Well,no,Ihaven’t.I’dlovetoseethemthough.”LaceyshotJackavenomouslook.

“I’ve got a plane to catch,” Jack said quickly. He had absolutely no desire to see those
damnedultrasoundphotosagain,andifhemissedhisflighthereallywouldbescrewed.
He dodged Amy’s embrace and sent a final pleading look to Lacey. Her eyes were cold
evenassheplasteredasweetsmiletoherface.Withafinalcuttingglareinhisdirection,
Laceyshiftedherattentiontothelittleblack-and-whiteprintout.

ChapterTwenty-two

Jack had no desire to go back into the bank, but he needed his laptop. Worse, he knew
better than to show up in Ben’s office in New York without the signed documents. And
havingtoexplainhistriptoArthur—tosaynothingofwhyheleftAmyatthecoffeeshop
—wasn’thighonhisto-dolist,either.

Hecouldn’tbelievehisluckwhenhesteeredintothelotandsawArthur’struckgone,but
he didn’t waste any time getting inside. He breezed past Old Blue without a glance and
almostgrinnedatthesightofArthur’sbrokendoorlyingaskewoffonehinge.Butwhen
hesawthepaperslyingontopofArthur’sdesk,itwasJack’sturntobepissed.Thepapers
held private information; Arthur obviously had very little respect for anyone but his
preciousdaughter.

Jacktookthepapersbeforeheadingtohisownofficetoretrievehislaptop.Hetookthe
timetodigupamanilaenvelopeforthecontractsandalmostmadehiswaythroughthe
beforehecaughtsightofMissBellwavinghimover.Herexpressionofconcerndidnotsit
well.

“I’m not one to gossip,” she said in a low voice, “but not long after you left with
Callahan’s daughter, your Molly almost tore that door off the wall.” She nodded toward
the hall. “She stopped and closed her account before she left.” Jack gave Miss Bell’s
wrinkled hand a warm squeeze and thanked her before running out of the building. He
managed to hit redial on his cell phone and jump in the truck in one motion. When
Molly’scellphoneagainwentstraighttovoicemail,hetriedthehouse.Hedidn’texpect

hertopickup,buttryingmadehimfeelbetter.Hebrokealandspeedrecordgettingback
tothefarm,thepanicclutchingathisthroatseizingalittletighterwhenhecaughtsightof
thenewhousewithsheetingonthewalls.Henry’screwswerefast

Jack swallowed. Hard. God help him, he had to find that woman and convince her to
forgivehimorthatdamnhousewouldneverbeahome.

Hepealedintothegraveldriveandspunsidewayswhenhetooktheturnbehindthehouse.
Hejumpedoutofthetruckandrantothebackdoor.Whenitdidn’topenasheexpected,
hewalkedrightintothesolidwoodpanel.Thedoorwaslocked.Mollywasn’tthere.

Butsomethingelsewas.

Even through the screen and the glass, he couldn’t miss the diamond ring sitting on the
kitchentable.

“Sonofabitch.”

He shook the doorknob uselessly before giving up and running back to the truck to jerk
the keys out of the ignition. By the time he let himself into the house, he could hardly
catchhisbreath.

God,whyhadn’tshegivenhimachancetoexplain?Butherealizedwithastartthatshe
had,andhehadn’texplainedadamnthing.

Jack slipped the engagement band on his key ring and picked up the note. He read the
shortmessageandswore,throwingitonthetable.Lacey,pleasetakecareofFido.I’llbe
intouch.Molly.

Thatdamncat.Hesatinthewindowsill,nottheleastbitconcernedwiththewallsfalling
downinJack’sworld.Mollywasgone,andhehadaflighttocatch—onelastchanceto
makethingsright.Evenifhecouldn’tmakeherforgivehim,he’ddamnsuregetherhome
back.

Jack ran upstairs to pack a bag, and a quick glimpse in Molly’s room—the one they’d
sharedthelastfewnights—toldhimherthingsweregone.Reeling,heleftthehouseand
lockedthedoorbehindhim.

Helplesstodomuchelse,JacktoreuptheroadtoKansasCity.Heprobablyhadplentyof
timetocatchhisflight,butasenseofurgencykepthisfoottothefloor.Hetriedtocall
Mollymoretimesthanhecouldcount,realizingwhenthelowbatterylightblinkedhe’d
forgottenhischarger.Hisphonewouldbedeadbeforeheevengotontheplane.

He’dbeendrivinganhourwhenthephonevibratedagainstthetruckconsole.Hesnatched
itupwithoutcheckingthecallerID.“Molly?”

“Jack,it’sLacey.”Shesoundedbreathless,butwiththewindscreamingthecabthrough
openwindows,whocouldtell?

“Lacy,I–”

“It’snotyourbaby,Jack.”

“What?”

“It’s not your baby,” Lacey repeated. “It’s not possible.” Stunned, Jack checked his
mirrorsandjerkedthetrucktothesideofthehighway,rollingtoahaltontheshoulder.

“Howdoyouknow?”

“Theultrasoundpicture.Therearesomenumbersonthesideoftheprint.”

“So?”

“Sothenumbersdatethepregnancy.Amy’sbabyhadtobeconceivedaboutthreeweeks
before you returned to Jefferson Heights. If you got her pregnant, it didn’t happen the
nightshetookyouhomewithher.”

Jack’s heart damn near pounded out of his chest. “Are you sure?” A soft laugh tinkled
through the phone. “My dad is an obstetrician, Jack. I’m sure. Early ultrasounds are the
mostaccuratewaytodateapregnancy.There’snowayit’sthatfaroff.”

Jackslumpedinthedriver’sseat.“Youbelieveme.”Hiswordsweremoreofastatement
thanaquestion.

“Ido,butI’mnottheoneyouneedtoworryabout.”Hesatup,ramrodstraight.“Lacey,
dammit,youhavetofindMolly.”

“WhatamIsupposedtotellher?Youalreadyknewitwasn’tyourbabyandyetyouwent
along with this ridiculous charade. That’s not going to make her feel better.” Jack threw
thetruckintogearandroaredbackontotheroad,sendingashowerofgravelbehindhim.
“Ihadmyreasons.OrIthoughtIdid.TellhereverythingIdidwasforher.TellherIlove
her and I’m coming back.” He punched the accelerator, leaving half his tire tread right
there on the pavement. The acrid smell of burned rubber swirled into the cab. “And
Lacey?Don’ttellanyoneelseaboutthis.Notyet.”Silencefilledtheline.

“Lacey?”

“You’dbetternotscrewthisupanymorethanyoualreadyhave,Jack.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” But as he clamped his phone shut, he couldn’t help wondering
whetherhebelievedthewordshimself.

ChapterTwenty-three

Well appointed and modern, Ben’s office lacked warmth. The sprawling suite filled an
entire level of one of New York City’s most prestigious addresses, polished floors
reflecting with indifference against glass-fronted offices. Custom-made parquet peeked
through a clear coating that seemed to be an inch thick. Even the upholstery was cool,
indifferentleather.Theplacesmelledofmoney.

Jack had a difficult time counting himself among the employees, although a generously
proportioned blonde seemed intent on making him feel at home. He wouldn’t have paid
attentiontoheratallifnotforthefactthatsheteeteredaroundwithherchestthrustahead
ofher,offeringitupthewaymostfolkswouldofferadrinkorahandshake.Heshookhis
head.Maybesomeoneshouldadvisehertohavethosesuckersreducedinsizebeforeshe

tippedcompletelyover.

Thoughts of Molly once again hit him like a board to the side of his head—unlike the
blonde intern, nothing about Molly could be considered fake. The dull ache sharpened
when he thought of how much trust she put into him and how much he’d hurt her in
return.Ifhecouldn’tgetherback….

“Jack,comeonin.”Bengesturedfromthedoorwaytohisprivatesuite.Tallwiththinning
gray hair, the man wore a tailored suit that probably cost more than Jack’s truck. He
followedBenthroughtheouteroffice,noddingtohispersonalsecretaryashepassedby
herdesk.Itwaslate—almostseveno’clock—andstillshetappedfuriouslyonakeyboard.

Benledhimtoaconferencetablesetupononesideofhisofficewithdizzyingproximity
to the glass exterior of the building. Two solid walls of nothing but straight down. The
combinationofcircumstanceslefthimfeelingill.

“Now,”Bensaid,“explainthistome.”

Jacklaunchedintothestoryofthewholesordidmess,nottheleastbithappywithhaving
tosharethedetailsofhissupposedencounterwithAmywithhisnewboss.Benlistened,
silentandexpressionless.

“So,”Jacksaid,“ArthurtoldmeifIhaven’tmarriedAmybyFridayatnineo’clock,he
wasgoingtoauctiontheproperty.Theonlywaytostopthesaleistopayoffthebank.As
farasArthurknows,I’masurethingforapositionashisnewson-in-law.”Benshookhis
head. “Here’s the problem, son. My attorneys haven’t completed their investigation into
the property. We know Miss Coleman is the deeded owner and the bank holds the
mortgage, but if there are other liens or if it’s tied up in legal disputes we’ve yet to
discover, I’ll lose my shirt in this deal. My company will take a hit and it will reflect
poorly all the way around. That’s exactly why we decided to move forward with a
traditionalsaletobeginwithinsteadofapayoff.”Jack’sheartfelltothecold,hardfloor.
“Ben,it’spersonal.

“You can’t make a business decision based on a personal issue, son.” Ben regarded him
withaflickerofinterest,justahintofamusementlightinghiseye.

“Some decisions are more than just business, Ben. You’ve shared your regrets with me,
and I have to tell you, this woman, Molly, is the one thing I will never allow myself to
regret.Noneofthis,”Jackwavedhisarmsaroundtheroom,“meansadamnthingwhen
you’ve lost … lost what Molly and I have.” Ben leaned back in his chair. “You forget I
haveaboutfortyyearsoflivingonyou,son.”

“ThenyouknowI’mright,”Jackshotback.

Bensmiled.“Okay,son,let’splayball.Sinceyou’reacoupleofcontractsandfourwalls
awayfrombeingoneofmybrightestinvestmentstrategists,whydon’tyougivemeyour
professionalopinion?Fromabusinessstandpoint,wouldyourecommendthisdeal?”

Jack didn’t hesitate. “No. I wouldn’t put it on your desk, let alone recommend it.” Ben
tapped his fingertips together. “Yet here we are.” Jack met his eyes. “How about this.
What’s the value of an employee who will spend years working his ass off because his

bossstuckhisneckontheline?Howdoyoumeasurethereturnonthat?”

Benlaughed,andthedeepsoundreverberatedoffthecoldwalls.“Iguesswithyouroffice
beinginthatGodforsakenplace,I’llneedalittleextraloyaltyoutofyou,won’tI?”

HopesqueezedthroughthestrangledneckofJack’ssoul.

“Hell,boy.Mydaughterwon’tspeaktomeanymorebecauseI’vespentsomuchtimeat
work. You’re like the son I never had, so you might as well run off with all my money.
What’sthepayoffonthatloanagain?”

Jacktoldhim.

Ben mumbled a blue streak while he dug through his briefcase. He came up with a
checkbookandapen.Jackwatchedashewroteanexceptionallylargenumberontheline
inverysmallprint,thenrippedthepageoffandhandedthecheckover.“That’sapersonal
check, son.” He winked. “Seeing as how this is a personal matter and all.” Jack’s eyes
gougedavirtualholeinthepaper.HeknewBenwasloaded,butstrokingageneroussix
figurecheckoutofapersonalaccount?

Hewasalso,itseemed,amindreader.“Ineedtotransferfundstothataccount,butbythe
timethebanksopeninthemorninginKansasCity,you’llbeabletotradethatcheckfora
cashier’s check. Then you haul ass back to that bank and pay off that mortgage, quit
workingforthatbastardCallahan,andgetyourwomanback.”Jackfoughttheurgetohug
theman.Hishandsshookasheslippedthecheckintohisownbriefcase.Hestoppedshort
whenhesawthesigneddocuments.“Doyouwantthesepapers?”

Ben waved dismissively. “Against my better judgment, no. You don’t lend money to
family unless you’re willing to let it be a gift, so just to be clear, there are no
expectations.”

“Idon’tknowhowtothankyou,Ben.”AndJackdidn’t.Family.Thewordreverberatedin
hismind.

Bengavehimafatherlysmile.“You’vegotyourwholelifeaheadofyou,andmoresense
at your age than I probably have right now. Damned if money won’t buy happiness this
timearound,soyou’rewelcometoit.Nowlet’sgohavedinnerbeforeyougetbackonthe
planeanddropbackoffthemap.Helen!”Hecalledtohissecretary,switchinggearsina
breath.“Reservationsfortwo.Tellthemwe’llbetherein20

minutes.”

Jackfollowednumbly,reeling.Hehadthecheck,andMollywouldkeepherhome.There
werenodocumentstotiethemtogether.Ifheputthatringbackonherfinger,thegesture
wouldbebecauseshewantedhimto—notbecausehelegallyownedherfarm.Andthat
wasasitshouldbe.

But as the elevator dropped noiselessly through space, the gleaming walls returned the
distortedreflectionofamanwhohaddamnnearlosteverything.Andifhecouldn’tget
Mollyback,Jackwonderedjusthowfarhewasabouttofall.

*****

TheplanetoucheddowninKansasCityatfourinthemorning.AsmuchasJackhatedto
rentahotelroomforonlyafewhours,heknewheneededashowerandtimetogatherhis
thoughts. Exactly twenty-four hours ago, he and Molly had lain tangled together in her
bed,makingloveandplanningafuturetogether.Nowhehadnoideawhereshewas,and
shehadnoclueshestillhadahome.Hehadano-strings-attachedcheckthatwouldpay
off the mortgage on the farm, a new job with a prestigious investment firm, and—after
today—noreasontogetanywherenearArthurorAmyagain.Bynow,Laceymusthave
givenMollythenewsaboutthedatesontheultrasoundscans.Allheneededwastofind
herandmakeherbelieveitwasallgoingtoworkout.

Thenextmorning,hespentthegoodpartofanhouratthebank.ApparentlyJackwasn’t
the only one flabbergasted by the size of the check. After showing every form of
identification he owned—including his damned library card—cashing the check still
required a phone call to the manager of Ben’s branch in New York. The man knew Ben
personallyandhadbeennotifiedofthetransactionaheadoftime,andonlywithhisokay
did the fine folks of Kansas City turn over the cashier’s check. He cringed when it
occurredtohimhowlonghe’dneedtopaythedebt,but—despitethemind-bogglingfact
thatBenconsideredthemoneyagift—Jackwouldpayhimback.FinallytheKansasCity
bank manager sent him on his way, laden with words of apology for the inconvenience.
Afterassuringtheworried,bespectacledmanthateverythingwasfine,Jackclimbedback
intohistruckandlockedthedoors.Thethinpaperchecksatheavilyinhisjacketpocket,a
reminder of what the day would bring. After grabbing a late breakfast from a fast food
drive-thru, he pulled on the interstate and headed south. Whatever the day brought, he
knewthebalanceofhislifelistedprecariouslyonwhatwouldhappenwhenhereturnedto
JeffersonHeights.Butonewayoranother,he’dgiveMollyherlifeback.Hejusthopedit
wouldbeenough.

ChapterTwenty-four

ThesleepyflatfarmlandflankingJeffersonHeightssatjustasindifferenttoJack’sreturn
as it did his departure. As he roared down the road through towering cornfields, for the
first time in his life Jack wished his truck wasn’t quite so loud. He held no misplaced
aspirations of sneaking back into town, but there was something to be said for being
inconspicuous.

Jackdrovebacktotheoldfarmhouse,hopingagainsthopehe’dfindMollythere.Itwas
well past lunch-time, and she’d normally be in one of three places: the coffee shop, her
greenhouse,orherownkitchen.Hedidn’texpecthertohangoutatthecoffeeshopwith
hisnameandAmy’slinkedastheheadlinerontherumormill,soheheldhisbreaththat
shemighthavecomehome.

Nosuchluck.Hertruckwasnowhereinsight.

Jack stopped in long enough to plug his cell phone in, cursing the fact that he hadn’t
thoughttobuyacarcharger.Fidogrowledfromthebottomstep,soJackopenedacanof
food for him before heading back out. Molly would be pleased to know her guard cat
remainedaliveandwell,whereverthehellshewas.Andhejusthadonelooseendtotie
upbeforehecouldgofindher.

Whenhecaughtsightofhishouse,twomemoriesassaultedhimatonce.Heremembered
proposingtoMollyinthefrontroomofwhatwouldsoonbetheirhome.Themetalroof
led him back to the moment of waking up to the drumming of a pouring rain. He could
still smell the sweet honey scent of her body, warm and soft next to his. Damn, Henry
workedfast.

Bythelooksoftheparkinglot,ArthurandAmywerebothatthebank.Hedidn’ttakethe
time to wonder what the hell Amy was doing there, nor did he worry about the
confrontationthatwouldfollowafterhetookcareofthelittledetailnippingathisheels.
Gratefulhedidn’thavetowaitinline,JackwalkedstraightuptoMissBell.Hepulledthe
cashier’s check from his coat pocket and slid the paper across the counter. Her eyes
bugged.

“I need two copies of this check,” he told her in a low voice, all too aware of Old Blue
stationedatherdeskacrosstheroom,“andthenIwantyoutoapplythewholeamountto
Molly’smortgage.It’safullpayoff.Ihavetheletterstatingtheamountinmytruckifyou
needit.”

“No,it’sallinthecomputer,dear.”MissBell’seyeswerefullofquestions,butshequietly
didasheasked.

Whenshehandedoverthecopiesofthecheckandareceiptforthepayment,hewinkedat
her.“IpromiseI’llfillyouinlater.Fornow,justsayaprayerthatthiswholemessends
withawedding—andI’mnottalkingaboutAmy’s.”MissBellnodded,hereyesshining
withayouthfulgleam.“Molly’saluckyyoungwoman.”

“Ihopeshestillthinksso,MissBell.”DodgingOldBlue’sglare,hewalkeddownthehall
to his office, likely for the last time. He found a small box and filled it with the few
personalitemshekeptinhisdesk,nonemoreimportantthanthetwophotographsMolly
hadaskedhimaboutthedaybefore.Heshookhisheadindisbelief.Onlyyesterday,Molly
stood there, in love with him. The contrast from one day to the next splashed like cold
water on his heart. But justice—justice was coming. Jack retraced his steps back to
Arthur’scloseddoor.Surprisedhe’dgottenitfixedsofast,Jackputtheboxoutoftheway
on the hall floor and knocked. The door tipped forward and sideways when he rapped
againstit.

Fixedit,hell.

HecaughtsightofArthurjustbeforehecalledforhimtocomein.WhenJackliftedthe
doortoswingitopen,Amy’seyeslitupandshesquealed.

“You’reback!Didyoubringmeanything?”

“No,butyourfatherwillbepleasedtoknowmylittleinvestmentpaidoff.”

“Is that so?” Arthur spoke from his spot behind his desk. “It’s a damn good thing. This
weddingofyoursiscostingmeafortune.”

Jacktookgreatdelightinhisnextwords.“Oh,Arthur,therewon’tbeawedding.Noton
yourdime,anyway.”

Foralongsecond,noonemoved.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Arthur barked. Jack held up one copy of the
cashier’scheck.“ThemortgageontheColemanplacehasbeenpaidinfull.Youhaveno
claimonthepropertyanymore.Orme.”

“ThehellIdon’t!”heroared,jumpingtohisfeet.“Youwilltakecareofmygrandchild!
Noonelieswithmydaughterandignorestheconsequences.”Jackalmostlaughedatthe
truthbehindhiswords.“Oh,I’mpayingtheconsequences,Arthur.ButI’mnotthebaby’s
father,soIwon’tbepayingforthat.”

“Thehellyouaren’t!”Arthurshotback,redfaced.

JackturnedtoAmy.Heignoredthetearsfallingdownhercheeksandfixedhiseyesright
on her. “Do you have one of those ultrasound photos with you, Amy?” She nodded, her
eyesandnoserunningwithhertears.

“Whatthehelldoesthathavetodowithanything?”Arthurseethed.JackwaitedforAmy
toproducetheimage.Shehesitatedtohanditover,sohesnatchedthescanfromher.A
quickglancemadeitobviousLaceyknewwhatshewastalkingabout—thenumberswere
there,exactlyasshesaidthey’dbe.HebypassedAmyandwentstraighttoArthur.

“Doyouseethosenumbers?”Hedidn’twaitforananswer.“Theygivethegestationalage
ofthebaby.FeelfreetocheckwithAmy’sdoctorforverification,butthebottomlineis
this:she’dbeenpregnantforseveralweeksbeforeIcamebacktotown.There’snoway
thebabyshe’scarryingbelongstome.”Jackcouldn’tkeepthesmugsatisfactionoutofhis
voice.

Arthur’s dark gaze darted to his daughter. “Amy, is this true?” Amy’s façade of shock
dissolved beneath a fury of tears. “Daddy, I’m sorry,” she wailed, sounding for all the
worldlikeacatwithitstailcaughtinadoor.Jackresistedtheurgetocoverhisears.

Arthurpickeduphisphoneandbarkedintoit.“Beatrice,comeseetomydaughter.”He
satstoicallyuntilOldBluecollectedasobbingAmy,thenheturnedtoJack.

“IsupposeIoweyouanapology,son.”

“I’mnotyourson,Arthur,andyoudon’towemeadamnthing.BelievingAmywasone
thing;blackmailingmeisinexcusable.”

“Ihope—”

“Iwon’tbeback.IassumethesizeofthecheckIbroughtinwillmorethanmakeupfor
myfailuretoprovidetwoweeks’notice.”

Arthurdidn’tsayaword.

“SeetoitthatyouremovethelienfromMolly’sfarm,”Jackaddedbeforeturninghisback
and walking from the room. He swept the box from the floor and carried it through the
lobby,thankingMissBellagainonhiswayout.

Onlyonethinglefttodo,andhisentireliferestedonwhetherhediditright

*****

JackdrovetothecoffeeshopinhopesoffindingLacey,butthebuildingstooddarkand
theparkinglotempty.HeknewshespentmostafternoonswithMollyatthegreenhouseor
inthekitchenbaking,soheheadedbacktothefarm.Lacey’scarwasthere,buttherewas
no sign of Molly’s truck. Jack parked next to Lacey, behind the house. The back door
stoodopen,soundsdriftingthroughthebatteredscreen.

“Lacey?”hecalled,lettinghimselfin.

“Jack?”Shepeepedfrombehindaclosetdoor,startlinghim.

“Where’sMolly?”

“Idon’tknow.I’mjustherefeedingthisovergrowncatofhers.”JackstartedatFidoand
shookhishead.Thelittletuboflardhadjusteatenlessthananhourago,andnowhehad
hisfaceburiedinastinkingslabofkittyloaf,workingthatsnarling,purringthinghedid
sowell.

Footstepsechoedoverhead,jerkingJack’sattentionawayfromthecat.“Whatthehellis
that?IthoughtyousaidMollywasn’there!”

Laceyblushedinthesamelong,drawnoutwayshespoke.“She’snot.It’sCaleb.”

“Caleb?”Understandingdawnedslowly.“Arethetwoofyou,um…?”

“No!”shesaidquickly.“MollyandIalwaystooklunchovertothecrew.Hejustwentto
usethebathroom.Heusuallycomesbytohelpuscarrythesandwichesover,and,well,he
didn’tknow.”

Didn’tknowMollywasgone.Dammit.

“Hey,man.”Caleb’svoiceprecededtherestofhimdownthestairs.“Whatareyoudoing
here?”

Jack took in the way Caleb’s gaze lingered on Lacey a bit longer than necessary, but he
didn’t dwell on the development. His own life balanced on the line. Lacey jumped in
beforehecouldanswer.“Iseverythingokay?”No,hewantedtoshout.Nothingwasokay,
anditwouldn’tbeuntilhegotMollyback.Instead,helaunchedintoabriefexplanationof
whathappenedinNewYorkandfollowedthetaleupwiththemorning’sdevelopments.
“SoMollyownsthefarmfreeandclear,andIhavetofindher.Ihavetogetherback.”
Caleb shook his head. “You do have it bad, brother. Have you tried the park over off
PritchardRoad?Isawatrucklikehersinthelotonmywayinthismorning.”Hiswords
sentJackintoatailspin.Ofcourse!WhatbetterplaceforMollytositaroundhatinghim
thantheveryspothe’dleftherfiveyearsago?

“Thanks,man!”Heyelledoverhisshoulder,alreadyhalfwaybacktohistruck.Itwastime
tobringMollyhome.

ChapterTwenty-five

WhenMollystoppedattheparkthedaybefore,she’dbeenstruckbyhowlittlethespace
changed over the years—but much more so by how very much she had. Five years ago

she’dbeenperfectlycontenttogoonwithoutJack.Now,shedidn’tknowhowshe’dmake
it.

Butshewould.Hemighthavestolenherfamily’sfarm,hervirginity,andevenherheart,
butMollyheldontoherfightingspirit.

Sheshouldhavebeenontheroadto,well,anywhere.PuttingmilesbetweenJackGellar
and whatever he had to do with Amy Callahan. Getting away from her old life. Instead,
she’dmadethetripasfarasDriver.Shewindow-shoppeduntilthestoresstartedtoclose
down for the night, then she stopped at a little restaurant for dinner. Anything to feel
normal,she’dthoughtasshesataloneatthetablewithamealsheneverreallytasted.

But after she left Driver, she’d driven halfway back to Jefferson Heights before she’d
realizedshewasheadedinthewrongdirection.Facingphysicalandemotionalexhaustion
andwithnowhereelseshecaredtogo,she’dfoundherselfattheparkforthefirsttimein
fiveyears.Theironyofthelocationwasn’tlostonher,butgoingfurtherwasn’tanymore
ofanoptionthangoingback.She’dsleptinhertruckwithplanstostartover—onewayor
another—inthemorning.

Butsunrisehadgrownintoabrightblueskyhoursago.Mollywasn’treadytoletgoyet,
andshefoundcomfortinsittingtherewithherthoughts.Thecoolshadeofthetreeskept
theblisteringheatatbay,butshedidn’tthinkanythingcoulderasehermemoriesofJack.

It’snothisbaby.

Lacey’s text message rolled through Molly’s thoughts over and over. She supposed she
should have found the message soothing, but the words had the opposite effect; she’d
grown angrier than ever. If Jack wasn’t the baby’s father, then why was he going along
withAmy’saccusations?Whatpossiblereasoncouldhehavefordoingthistoher?

Andthewayhemadelovetoher,ithadtobereal—sheknewitheartandsoul.Butapart
ofhercouldn’tforgetJackwasaproatgettingwomenintobed,andshewasasnaïvea
womanashewouldeverfind—aneasytarget.

Still,asshethoughtabouthertimewithJack,theworstpartoftheirrelationshipwasn’t
what she’d lost. Oh, no—his actions made it pretty clear she hadn’t lost anything at all.
The worst part was now she realized just how much she’d been missing. Only a few
breathlessweekswithJackledhertoseejusthowemptyherlifehadbeenwithouthim,
andnow,inacrueltwist,shefoundherselfhelplesstogobacktothewaythingsusedto
be.

Mollyclosedhereyes,resignedtoherfate,atthesametimetheunmistakablerumbleof
Jack’struckfilledherears.Damn. She should have known he’d think to look there, but
shehadn’treallyexpectedhimtobelooking.Notreadyorwillingtofacehim,sheheld
hergroundonthetopofawornpicnictable,herfeetflatonthebenchseat.Shelistenedas
theenginediedandhistruckdoorslammedbehindher.

“Molly!”thefamiliarvoicecalledout.Herheartresponded,achingtorunforhimevenas
the rest of her protested his presence. In compromise with herself, she turned to shoot a
lethalglareinhisdirection.

Butwhenshesawhim,herbreathcaught.Jackstoodseveralfeetaway,rumpledandsad,
hischarismaticgringonebehindalayerof…what?Remorse?Mollybarelyrecognized
him.

All of those nights he bounced through the back door with his shirt and tie nearly off
didn’tprepareherforaglimpseofhimlikethis.Eveninthebrilliantsunshine,hiseyes
wereflat,dismal.Broken.Andbeneathitall,shesawtheboywithintheman.Notinthe
mischievouswayshe’dcometoadore,either.Likehimornot,shedidlovehim,andshe
sensed with every fiber of her being that he was hurting. When he spoke, his voice was
soft.“Willyouletmeexplain?”Mollyturnedherbacktohimbeforethetearsfell.

Heedgedcloser.“Molly,it’snotmybaby.”

“Iheard.”Sheshotthewordsback,angry.“Laceysentmeatext.Iactuallytriedtocall
you, but your phone must have been off.” For that, she’d been grateful. The urge to
understand why had been quickly snuffed out by common sense. It didn’t matter why—
JackleftwithAmy,andthatwasthat.

“The battery died. I forgot my charger. Look, Molly,” he said softly, changing gears. “I
wantyoutoknowIdidn’ttakeyourland.It’sstillyoursandyoursalone.”Hesatnextto
heronthepicnictable.

Mollypulledherhairawayfromherfacewithoutlookingathim.“Won’tdomuchgood
comeFriday,willit?”

“What’sFriday?”heaskedwithanirritatingamountofnonchalance.Andthereitwas—
thatgrin.Shecaughtsightofitoutofthecornerofhereye.

“Theauction,youjerk.”Mollymethisgazeandfoundherselfsupremelyannoyedbythe
glintofhumorthatmetherhalfway.

Jackpulledathicksheafofpapersoutofhisjacketpocketandhandedittoher.

“It’syours,”herepeated.

Mollyunfoldedthedocumentsandgasped.

“I didn’t find out about Amy’s pregnancy until yesterday, after you left the bank.” Jack
sighed heavily before continuing. “Arthur wasn’t in his office when I got to work, so I
wentstraighttherewiththepaperswhenyouleft.Ididn’tknowAmywasthere,andIsure
ashelldidn’tknowshepinnedmeasthefatherofthatkid.Whenyouwalkedthroughthe
door,Arthurhadjusttoldmehewouldn’tletthesalecloseunlessImarriedAmy.”

Molly gawked at him. “So you agreed to marry Amy for my farm? What the hell made
youthinkI’dratherhavethefarmthanyou?Iacceptedyourproposal,Jack.ThatmeantI
choseyou.”

“Iknow.ButIwantedtogiveyoueverything.Icouldn’tletyouloseyourdreamwhenwe
weresoclose.”

“So you saved my family’s farm, but you lost me,” she said flatly. “Boy, when you go
down,youreallygodowninflamesdon’tyou,Jack?”

“DidIloseyou?”

Hiswordscamebacktoher.I’msorry.Thedamntearscamefreely.Jackcuppedherchin,
gentlyturninghertofacehim.“Thebabyisn’tmine.”Hesaidthewordssoquietlythat
shebarelyheardhim.

“Iknowit’snotyours,”shesaid,jerkingawayfromhistouch.“WhatIdon’tknowiswhy
youletmethinkotherwise.”

“I didn’t think I would have to, Molly. I couldn’t deny the baby with everyone there, in
frontofArthur,andafterthat,Icouldn’tfindyoutotellyou.”

“Didyouhavesexwithher?”

“No.”Hisresponsecamefastbutsolid.Asifhetrulyhadnodoubts.

“Howdoyouknowthatifyoudon’tremember?”

Jackwrappedhisarmsaroundher,pullingherahellofalotcloserthansheoughttobe.
Whenhespoke,thesoftwhisperofhisvoicebrushedherskinlikeacaress.

“I just know it. There would have been some evidence left behind, if you know what I
mean.”

“Youcouldhavewashedupafterward.”

“And I could have driven the Daytona 500. But I’m just as sure I didn’t do that either.
You’rejustgoingtohavetotrustme,Molly.”

“Notquite,Jack.”Thetearspooledandfell.“Itoldyouthelandcouldgo.Iwantedyou.”

Jackreachedtowipehertearsawaywithtremblinghands.“Idon’tknowifyoustillwant
me, but you can have your farm back. I flew to New York to get a check from Ben. He
tookcareofthemortgage,soyoudon’toweArthuradime.You’reholdingtheproofof
thepayoffinyourhands.It’sstillinyourname,Molly.Ididn’ttakeyourhomeawayfrom
you,andneitherwillBen.”

Herbottomliptrembled,andsheimmediatelyclampeddownonitwithherteeth.Shehad
nointentionoffallingapartinfrontofJack.“Idon’tknowhowIcanpayhim.”

“There’s no repayment plan. We’ll do what we can do. You can lease the land and
equipmenttoanotherfarmer.Hell,wecanputbothofourparcelstogetherandbringina
prettygoodchunkofchange.”

Mollycaughttheslightesthintofhumorinhiseyesbeforehisexpressionturnedserious
again.“Iloveyou,Molly.”Hereachedforherwithhisfreehandandbrushedafewloose
strandsofhairfromherface.

Sheshudderedinvoluntarily,anditwasn’tthebadkindofshudder.Itwasthedeliciously
familiar“Jack”kindthatmadeherworldseemrightevenwhenitwasn’t.Thesameone
that made her realize love mattered more than the ground beneath her feet, and that
memoriesdidn’thaveanaddress.

Theonethatcompletelyturnedherworldupsidewhenhewalkedintoherlife,andagain

whenhe’dwalkedoutofit.Sheshookherhead.

“Whatdoesthatmean?”

Jack’s husky voice traipsed over her, soft and rough all at once, causing a full scale
rebellion—every cell in her body wanted him, but she fought the feelings anyway. He
cuppedherface,strokedhercheek.

“Iwantyoutoknow,I’mnotgoingbacktoworkatthebank.ItookthejobofferinNew
York.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. “You’re leaving?” Her words said a lot more
thanshewantedthemto,becausethenheknew.Shecouldseetheawarenessinhiseyes,
inthewaytheoldJacksuddenlyappearedinfullforcebehindthatperpetualgrin.

“No,baby,I’mnotleaving.”Histookherintohisarmsagainandheldher.“I’mworking
from right here. I told you the front room of the house would make a great office, and
that’swhereI’llbe.I’mnotleavingyouagain.”Hepulledawayjustfarenoughtolook
into her eyes. “Well, maybe a business trip or two,” he conceded, “but you can always
comewithme.”

“Youstillwantme?”Shesniffled,cursingtheunholyfeelingsheneededtoapologizeto
him.

“Always,”hewhispered,strokingherback.“Youdidn’tdoadamnthingwrong.”

“Ileftthering….”

“I’ve got your ring right here. I kind of hoped I’d run into someone who might want to
wearit.”

Molly almost laughed through her tears. “I don’t think you’d have much trouble finding
someonetowearthatring.”

“There’sonlyonepersonIwant.”

“Jack,Idon’t….”Mollytrailedoff,unsureofwhatsheneededtosay.Jackdugintohis
pocket and Molly forgot to breathe. She expected to see a diamond ring emerge, but he
handedherhiskeysinstead.“It’syourturn.”

“Huh?”

“Here’syourchance.Imaynothaveearnedyourforgiveness,butIdamnsureearnedthis.
Takemykeys.It’smyturntowalk.”

Mollystaredathim.“Lovelythought,Jack,butyoucouldprobablyhotwirethattruckand
passmeontheroadbackhome.”

Helaughed.“Maybe,”headmittedsheepishly,“butit’sthethoughtthatcounts,right?”

Mollynarrowedhereyes.“Notwhenyou’retheonewalking.”Jacklaughedagain.“Okay,
howaboutthis.IfIpromisenottofatheranymoreillegitimatebabies,willyoudomethe
honorofbecomingmywife?”Mollyrolledhereyes.“Whenyouputitlikethat,howcana
girlrefuse?”Buttears—happyones—sliddownhercheekswhenheslippedtheringback

on her finger. His lips met hers in a sweet, gentle kiss that quickly turned insistent with
need.

“Areyoureadytogohomenow?”Hemurmuredtheinvitation,hislipsstilltouchinghers.

Shebrokefreeandsmiled,thinkingofalonghotshowerandanevenlonger,hotterdayin
bedwithJack.“Ohyeah.I’llraceyou!”Shechallengedhimbeforehoppingoffthetable
andsprintingacrosstheparkinglot.

“Hey, you still have my keys!” But his protest fell on deaf ears. She’d already climbed
intohertruck.

Mollyflashedhermostinnocentsmileasshestartedtheengine.“Carefulwhoyougeta
ridewith,Jack.”Shewinkedbeforeroaringoutoftheparkinglot.Shecouldn’thelpbut
grin as she drove off. Revenge was definitely sweet, but nothing could be sweeter than
goinghome—nothingbutknowingthatJackwouldbetheretosharealifewithher.

Sheglancedintherearviewmirrorandgrinned.Well,he’dbethereeventually.

~TheEnd~

AbouttheAuthor

Sarah lives a charmed life as the mother of six incredible homeschooled children, all of
whom are completely adorable when they’re asleep. Her husband of many years (long,
longyears,hecallsthem)isthekindofguywhocouldteachthoseheroesfromthebooks
athingortwoaboutromance,notthathe’dreadilyadmitit.Completelysupportiveofher
newfound love of writing fiction, he’s generously offered to help with any necessary
research for “the good parts.” She’s never had to ask twice. Down in Flames is Sarah’s
firstpieceoffictionsincegradeschool.Althoughthecraftofwritingfictionwasinitially
intimidating,ithasmorphedintoafavoritepastimesincehercharacters,unlikeherkids,
actually listen to her. Most of the time. Learn more about Sarah at

www.sarahballance.com.