Sealed with a Kiss

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MOLLY SLEPT on the car ride home. Hunter didn’t mind, as he needed the time to think and regroup. Last night had been spectacular. From the first time they’d made love to the last, and the food, teasing and fun in between. Yeah, taking advantage of getting away from Molly’s home had been pure genius, he thought, glancing at the sleeping beauty in the passenger seat beside him.

She leaned against the headrest, her mouth slightly open, and didn’t move a muscle, not even when he swerved to avoid a car that had cut him off in the left lane. He’d obviously worn her out. The notion made him grin.

He loved her and the truth settled like lead in his stomach because though he didn’t doubt her feelings for him, he doubted her ability to commit. Even if she was head over heels in love with him, he knew from experience the minute her life got rocky, all bets were off. Molly ran away better than anyone he knew.

And if the worst happened and he couldn’t get her father’s murder charges dropped or him acquitted, her turmoil would be unimaginable. All Hunter could do for now was concentrate on her father’s case. As long as he was tied to her family, he was connected to Molly.

He pulled back into the driveway of her father’s house late in the day and parked.

“Wake up, beautiful.” He placed a hand on her thigh and jostled her awake.

Her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze settled on his face, and a warm smile settled on her lips. “Hi,” she murmured.

“Hey there.”

“I’m really bad company, aren’t I?” she asked, stretching her arms out in front of her.

Hunter laughed. “I wouldn’t say that. Are you ready to go in?” He hit a button, releasing the car-door locks.

“Wait.”

He turned back to her.

“I had a really good time. A great time, actually. I’m glad you put so much thought into everything.” She bit down on her bottom lip, uncharacteristically shy.

He slid his hand around the back of her neck. “You needed the distraction.” He inched as close as the middle console would allow. “And I needed you.”

Hunter followed his gut-honest statement with a slow, deep, long kiss. One that would remind her of their night together and hopefully convince her that his feelings were solid and real.

“Mmm.” A low, throaty purr escaped from deep in her throat, the rumbling sound traveling through his body and settling low in his groin.

Shit. He pulled back, still staring into her warm gaze. “Another second of this and I won’t be able to walk back into the house.” He forced a laugh, hoping his body would take the hint and relax.

“Okay, let’s get your mind on other things,” she said, clearly amused. “We have to tell my father that we found Lydia in Atlantic City, but not much else in the way of helpful evidence.” Her sad tone helped cut the arousal pulsing through him.

“Nothing’s over, Molly. We are going to find a way to use everything we uncover. It’s just not clear yet what the plan is. But things always fall into place. You just need to trust me.” And he needed to believe he could put the pieces of Paul Markham’s sleazy life together in a way that wouldn’t make Frank look guilty.

“I trust you to do your best. I’m just trying to stay rational so that I don’t convince myself everything’s picture-perfect when it isn’t. At least everything’s status quo for now, and I just had the best night of my life. That’s something positive to focus on.”

She brushed a kiss over his mouth and they climbed out of the car. Bags in hand, they walked back into the house to familiar noises inside.

Jessie ran through the front hall, her cell phone pinned to her ear and Seth right behind her.

“Remember to keep your door open,” her father yelled from the kitchen as the duo ran up the stairs to Jessie’s room.

Jessie barely acknowledged Hunter and Molly as she passed.

“Think she even knew we were gone?” Molly asked Hunter.

He glanced up the long flight of stairs where the teens had disappeared.

“Nah,” they said at the same time, laughing.

Laughter was something that had marked their night together, a light happiness he’d rarely felt in his lifetime.

Hunter placed their luggage by the stairs. “I’ll bring yours up in a few minutes,” he promised.

“I can do it. I just want to let everyone know we’re back.” She strode toward the kitchen, Hunter right behind her. “Hello?” Molly called out.

Nobody answered, but as they walked closer, Hunter heard whispered voices from the kitchen.

“Dad?” Molly called.

“In here.” The general’s voice was subdued.

“I wonder what’s going on,” Molly said.

Hunter followed her into the sunlit kitchen and glanced at the people sitting around the table.

He took in the problem at the same time Molly spoke, her voice filled with disbelief. “Mom?”

“Molly, darling!” The brunette Hunter had seen last year rose from her chair and stepped toward her shocked daughter.

In her expensive, cream-colored designer suit, she looked out of place in the homey family kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” Molly asked.

“Is that any way to greet your mother?” The woman reached out to touch Molly’s shoulder.

Molly twisted herself out of reach. “What happened to France?”

“London.”

“It’s all the same to me since we don’t hear from you wherever you are. Really, Mother, what are you doing here now?” Molly asked, her disdain and bored tone a far cry from the woman who’d searched her whole life for her parent’s attention and approval.

Maybe finding her father and gaining his acceptance had wiped out the need for her mother’s. Or maybe this cool “I don’t care” facade was a front and the hurt was still there, real and raw inside her. Since that was more likely the case, Hunter knew he ought to be doubly grateful for last night, because Molly’s mother’s arrival would destroy any semblance of good times.

“I heard about Frank’s troubles and I thought you might need me,” her mother said.

Molly narrowed her gaze. “The news traveled to London? Oh, wait. Let me guess. Baron Von What’s His Name caught on to your husband-hunting game and dumped you, leaving you with no choice but to return to the States to regroup?”

Her mother pursed her lips. “Molly, this attitude really isn’t like you.”

Molly rubbed her hands up and down her arms, though it wasn’t at all cold in the room. “How would you know what is or isn’t like me? Hmm? It’s not like you ever cared enough to find out.”

Her mother lifted a hand to her throat. “How could you think that?”

“You’re kidding, right? You let me believe a man who couldn’t give me the time of day was my real father because it suited your selfish needs. You were never around for me, not when it counted and not when it didn’t. You denied me twenty-eight years of a loving family and you really expected me to believe you love me?” Molly’s voice shook.

Hunter wanted to pull her into his arms and whisk her out of here, but she needed to face her mother. They had unresolved issues, and that was putting it both mildly and kindly.

He turned to meet Frank’s somber gaze. The other man had opted to remain silent, letting the two women have their reunion on their own terms. He clearly wasn’t about to minimize Molly’s anger at her mother or let the selfish woman off the hook.

Molly’s mother glanced from Frank to her daughter. “Well, you know one another now and I see you’re getting along famously. And I’m here to see you through this rough patch.”

“So let bygones be bygones? Give you a place to stay until you feel emotionally strong enough to go after your next rich conquest? I don’t think so,” Molly said through gritted teeth. “I came to tell you Hunter and I are back,” she said to her father. “We can talk later. At the moment, I have nothing more to say.”

She pivoted away and, ignoring everyone in the room, Hunter included, she walked out the door.

Hunter took a step toward her but Frank shook his head. “I’d give her a few minutes to catch her breath. This wasn’t a welcome surprise.” Frank turned an icy glare to Molly’s mother. “Francie, what is it you really want?” The older man’s exhaustion permeated his voice and his expression.

“I’m tired. I’ve had a long flight and a trying time in London before I left. I’m staying at the Hilton. It’s not the Ritz but it is four stars or so they claim,” Francie said.

Hunter blinked. The woman was truly unfazed by the emotions of everyone around her, including her only daughter and the man she’d lied to and betrayed years before.

“I think you’ve done enough damage by just showing up,” Frank said wearily. “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave Molly alone.”

Hunter seconded the notion.

“I don’t think that’s your call to make. Molly’s always here for me when I need her. She may be upset about your situation, but once she pulls herself together, she’ll be happy to see me. She always is.”

“She’s changed,” Hunter heard himself say.

“A girl is always there for her mother.” Francie lifted her purse and placed it over her shoulder.

“Shouldn’t that be a mother is always there for her daughter?” Frank asked. “Or does that only apply to other mothers but not to you?”

The other woman yawned. “I’m too tired for this conversation now. Frank, would you drive me to the hotel? The taxi driver dropped me off here earlier and I don’t have a way of getting there.”

Hunter glanced at Francie’s perfectly set hair and light-colored suit. “I’d be happy to give you a lift,” he said, winking at Frank behind her back.

Placing Francie on the back of his motorcycle was petty, but it was a small form of payback for the years of pain she’d caused Molly. Her messy hairdo would be sweet revenge.

“FRANK?”

The general turned at the sound of his name to find Sonya standing in the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I rang the bell but nobody answered. The door was ajar, so I let myself in.” She stepped toward him, a welcome vision in black slacks and a white shortsleeved sweater.

Still technically in mourning, Sonya had been choosing appropriately subdued clothing when she left the house. Even if her feelings were in turmoil, she couldn’t deny she was mourning the loss of something in her life, if not the love of a husband she’d turned away from a long time ago.

“I’m glad you did.” He kissed her cheek and led her to one of the kitchen chairs. “So what brings you by?” he asked as he joined her.

She shrugged. “Nothing really. I saw Molly’s car and I wanted to know what they found out in Atlantic City. Did they find anything?” she asked hopefully.

“I don’t know yet. We had a visitor that took precedence over everything else.”

“What in the world could be more important than your case?” Sonya was affronted on his behalf.

Frank couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Molly’s mother showed up. And trust me, when you meet her you’ll realize that everything in the world revolves around Francie. Nobody else’s problems or needs matter.” He shook his head hard. “Don’t know what I saw in her all those years ago.”

Sonya rose and walked behind him, bracing her hands on his shoulders. She began a slow, steady massage of his muscles, which were so tight he thought they’d snap in half.

He bent his head forward, giving her better access. “Lord, that feels good.”

“You’ve got too much on these broad shoulders,” she said. “More than one man should have to handle. Now, about what you saw in Molly’s mother. Is she pretty?”

“She’s beautiful, but there’s nothing warm inside. Nothing compassionate or giving.”

Sonya continued her firm workout of his shoulders and neck. “How old were you when you met her?” she asked.

“Eighteen and half a step away from enlisting.”

“Something tells me you weren’t interested in what was inside her heart.” Sonya softly chuckled, her voice firm with the wisdom of age.

He grinned. “You’re a smart woman. And damn beautiful inside and out,” he said, not wanting her to think for an instant he still had any feelings for his shallow ex.

“I appreciate that. Sometimes I forget I was anything more than Paul’s whipping boy. Figuratively speaking.”

“Sometimes.”

Her hands stilled. “You’re right. Denial isn’t necessary anymore. Force of habit, I guess.”

He covered her hand with his. “It’s going to take time to adjust to the new normal.”

“It’s going to take even more time to figure out what that is.”

He inhaled a deep breath. “Hopefully we’ll have all the time in the world to do that. And hopefully Hunter can work miracles, because from where I sit, things look pretty bleak.”

Frank hadn’t said it out loud before now, but he lay awake at night panicked that Hunter wouldn’t be able to prove his innocence and he’d spend the rest of his life locked up in a tiny cell.

He broke into a sweat just thinking about it.

“It’ll be okay,” Sonya said, leaning her head against his. “You aren’t going to pay for a crime you didn’t commit.”

When Sonya said the words, he almost believed it.

MOLLY CURLED UP in a ball on her bed in her father’s house. It wasn’t her house but she thought it had come to be her home. If she defined home as a place inside someone’s heart. She’d believed her father’s acceptance had taken care of her old wounds, but leave it to her mother to show up now and point out exactly how wrong Molly was. Francie’s presence reminded Molly of all she’d missed out on and failed to accomplish in her life. Winning her mother’s elusive affection and approval had been a driving goal. And a glaring failure.

And really, wasn’t that what Hunter had tried to tell her the other day? That she still had unresolved issues when it came to love and acceptance? She’d fought his arguments, but apparently he had a point.

A knock sounded on her door and Molly scrambled upright. She pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand, blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

“Come in,” she called.

Hunter slipped inside, leaving the door ajar behind him. “Don’t want to give Jessie the wrong idea. If she has to leave her door open, so should we.” His gaze zeroed in on Molly. “Are you okay?” he asked, warm concern filling his voice.

She nodded.

“But you’ve been crying.” He settled himself beside her on the bed and reached out to brush a tear that had escaped and dripped slowly down her face.

She shrugged. “I’m female. And women cry sometimes.”

He let out a laugh. “What a crock of bull. And so not like my Molly.”

“Don’t you mean the Molly you know?” she asked bitterly.

He shook his head. “That was your mother’s mistake, not mine. I don’t pretend to know everything about you, but I do know you don’t believe in stereotypes about weak women.”

“Okay, I’ve been crying because I was feeling sorry for myself. How unlike me is that?”

He shook his head. “Sweetheart, everybody has poor-me moments and having met your mother, I’m surprised you haven’t had more of them.”

Molly glanced up. “You talked to her?”

“I drove her to her hotel.” He paused to let his words sink in. “On my bike.”

She let out a laugh. “I wish I’d seen that.”

“She bitched and moaned about ruining her cream-colored suit, wrinkling the linen fabric, nonexistent grease stains and the wind destroying her expensive blowout. But I have to say, she hated helmet head even more.”

Molly began to laugh harder, and soon she was hiccuping, chuckling and crying all at the same time. Hunter held her while she had her meltdown. Apparently she hadn’t been finished after all.

When it was over, she glanced up, met Hunter’s gaze and smiled. “Thank you. I actually feel better.”

“I’m glad.”

“Since she’s gone, don’t you think we should update my father on our Atlantic City trip?” Molly asked.

“I already did. He understands that it’s going to be tough to exonerate him by casting blame on someone else.”

Molly swallowed hard, the lump in her throat returning. “Hard but not impossible, right?”

He inclined his head. “I need you to hear this and understand. Your father’s case is not a slam dunk by any means.”

A noise came from the hall and he turned toward the sound.

“It’s Jessie,” Molly said. “Probably with Seth.”

Hunter nodded.

“So what were you saying about the case?”

He turned from the bedroom door. “I said that the case isn’t a slam dunk but I won’t give up. I’m going to do all I can for him. I just don’t want to give you false hope.” A muscle worked in his jaw, a sure sign he wasn’t confident he could free her father, Molly thought.

But she couldn’t focus on the negative. That wouldn’t help anyone. “I trust you, Hunter. I admit I’m concerned, but you’ll work your magic. I’m sure of it.” She plucked at imaginary threads on the bedding.

“One more thing.” He met her gaze.

“What’s that?”

“Your mother’s staying at the Hilton and she’d like to spend time with you while she’s here.”

“You mean she wants me to fawn over her and tell her not to worry, she’ll find another rich sucker to foot her bills. I can’t do it anymore.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve done it my whole life and now I see more clearly what’s important in life. Her quest for the wealthy husband isn’t it.”

“She’s your mother,” Hunter felt compelled to remind her.

“Biology,” Molly said.

“Fact,” Hunter countered. “And here’s another fact. You may not like her, but you love her. And she’s going to keep turning up in your life whenever it’s convenient for her, not you. You can’t write her off no matter how much you think you want to. It’ll leave a gaping hole in that big old heart of yours. You won’t be as happy as you think,” he added somberly.

“Is that what you feel? A big gaping hole?”

Oh shit, he thought, panic overwhelming him at the thought of talking about his past. Still, he supposed it wasn’t fair to offer advice on what she should do about her mother while refusing to discuss his own parents.

“Yeah. That’s what it feels like,” he admitted. “A big gaping hole in my chest that can never and will never be filled. I have Ty and Lacey and Ty’s mom, Flo, and a place to go for the holidays now, unlike when I was a kid. But I don’t have resolution with my parents and it’s not something I’d wish on anyone. Especially you.” Reaching out, he snagged a piece of her hair and twirled it around his fingers. “Talk to her,” Hunter urged.

Molly cocked her head to one side. “Isn’t that what I just did? And it was like talking to a wall. She doesn’t take in what I say, she only thinks about what she wants and how to get it.”

Hunter nodded. “I agree. All I’m saying is that she’s always going to be that way. She’ll keep showing up and throwing you for a loop unless you set the ground rules for her now.”

“She is who she is. She isn’t going to change and neither am I. I took a huge step today, confronting her. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Nothing,” he said, knowing his words were a lie. He wanted everything from Molly, but the only way things could work between them was if she could get her life in order and so far, he wasn’t getting through to her. Like her mother, Molly only dealt with what she wanted to at the moment. Not that he thought she’d appreciate him pointing that out.

But she had to step up and control her relationship with her mother. Otherwise her fear of losing her family and of not being accepted would continue to rule her life. As well as his.

As much as he loved her, Hunter had no choice but to take a self-protective step back. Not that he’d call a halt to their relationship. Just the opposite-he wanted her to know exactly what it felt like to be with him. Really with him. He’d give her time together without him pressuring her at all. He didn’t plan to be another complication in a life currently filled with them.

His goal, because Hunter was a man who always had an endgame, was to make Molly so aware of what it felt like to be a couple, that she’d know the emptiness she’d feel if she let him go. Because he was afraid she might do just that if he failed to get her father off.

JESSIE AND SETH stood in the hall, eavesdropping on Molly and Hunter. They hadn’t intended to, but when they’d passed Molly’s open door on the way to hang with Ollie in the study, they’d heard Molly and the lawyer talking about her dad’s case. So how could she and Seth not listen to what the so-called adults had to say?

When the subject changed to Molly and her mother, Seth pulled on Jessie’s hand and they made their way to the study. Jessie would have liked to hear what else her half sister had to say about her mother, but Seth didn’t give her a choice.

They walked into the study.

“Hi, Ollie,” Jessie said.

The bird flapped his wings.

Jessie grinned. “Are you bored?” she asked him, then glanced at Seth, who stared out the window to the street. He’d been fidgety all day but that wasn’t much different than the way he’d been since his father died.

She didn’t blame him for not being himself. She couldn’t imagine how he got through every day. All Jessie could do was keep bringing up subjects that weren’t upsetting to distract him.

Today she had the perfect thing to talk about. “Boy, Molly’s mother is a bitch, isn’t she?” Jessie whispered in case anyone was in the hall.

Seth shrugged without turning around.

“Bitch is back,” Ollie said.

“Grandma taught him Elton John songs.” Jessie laughed.

Seth didn’t.

“You don’t seem to be yourself today.” Jessie bit down on the inside of her cheek. “I know this is a stupid question, but is something wrong? Beyond the obvious. Do you know what I mean?” Her face flushed with heat as she asked him what had to be the most ridiculous question ever.

His father had been murdered. Of course something was wrong.

Jessie walked up behind him and touched his shoulder. “I’m a dope-”

“Can I talk to you?” he asked at the same time, turning around. His eyes were wide and filled with fear.

Jessie’s stomach flipped a little as she wondered what was bothering him. “You can always talk to me.” She plopped herself onto the couch and patted the seat beside her.

Seth shook his head. “I can’t sit. I can’t sleep. I can’t go on like this.”

Her stomach didn’t flip, it rolled. “You’re scaring me,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” His restlessness turned into jittery nerves. He ran his hand across the top of his short hair over and over again. “Did you hear the lawyer? He said Frank’s case isn’t a slam dunk.”

Jessie nodded. “I also heard him say that he wouldn’t give up and Molly said she trusts him.”

“And that’s good enough for you? Since when do you put stock in anything she says?” Seth asked, shocked.

Jessie’s stomach hurt like it did when she was confused. “I don’t know.” She plucked at the cotton material of the yellow sweater. Molly’s yellow sweater. She’d worn it two days in a row. “Maybe I didn’t give her a chance when she first came here and maybe she’s not as bad as I thought.”

After all, Molly seemed to understand her at least a little, and she wasn’t holding her bratty behavior against her like a friend might do. And she had let Jessie wear her sweater despite her snooping and her threats.

Seth paced in front of her. “Hunter said he didn’t want to give Molly false hope or make promises. He isn’t sure he can get your father off and that scares me.”

“Me, too, but I try not to think about it.”

Seth curled his hands into tight fists. “I can’t not think about it. I live with it every day.”

“We have to believe in justice,” Jessie said, trying to act like Molly would. Trying to say something to calm Seth down.

“Too many things could go wrong. Your dad could go to jail and it would be my fault.”

His words made no sense. “I don’t understand. “Your fault how? You didn’t-”

Seth whirled on her suddenly. “Yes, I did! I did it. I killed my father and I was going to tell, I was, but I was so scared. And then Molly’s friend came and everyone seemed to trust the guy and thought he’d get Frank off. But now even he doesn’t think so.”

Jessie’s entire body grew cold. She barely heard the last sentence of what Seth had said. “You killed your father?”

His head bobbed up and down. “It was an accident. He hit my mom again. He cheated your father and destroyed his business, and my mom yelled at him that I wouldn’t be able to go to college and he’d ruined our lives. He hit her. I took his gun just to scare him. I wanted to be a man. For my mom’s sake.” Tears filled his eyes and he wiped them with his sleeve.

Jessie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Nausea filled her and she was chilled to the bone. “What happened?” she asked.

“I took the spare key to the office and walked there. My dad had been drinking and he was a nasty drunk. So when I showed up with the gun, he made fun of me. Said I didn’t have the balls to use the weapon. He was right.”

Seth laughed but Jessie barely recognized the sound.

“He reached for the gun and I jerked back. I meant to just pull away from him, not pull the trigger.” Tears flowed down his face now. “I didn’t mean it. I got so scared I ran. I went back home. Your dad was there with my mom. They didn’t even hear me come in.”

Jessie could barely swallow. “What happened to the gun?” she whispered.

“I felt so sick I didn’t know what to do. That night I put the gun in a plastic bag and slept with it under the end of the bed. The next day I threw it in a Dumpster behind school.” He faced Jessie, his face pale, his eyes pleading. “I loved my dad. I didn’t mean to do it. And I don’t want your dad to go to jail, but I’m scared they’ll send me instead.”

His voice broke, making him sound more like a little boy than a kid who’d done something so horrible. Once the story was out, he sat down on the couch and buried his head against the armrest. His body shook, rocking back and forth, back and forth.

Jessie felt helpless. Scared. Sick to her stomach. But she hugged her friend tight and said the words she’d want to hear if she’d done something awful. “You’re still my best friend.”

She thought long and hard about what to do with the news. She loved her father, but thanks to Hunter and Molly, Jessie believed he’d be okay. He had to be.

“Here’s what I think,” she finally said to Seth. “We have to trust Hunter to get Dad off.”

“But Hunter said-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jessie cut him off. “Molly said she trusts him. And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if Molly trusts Hunter, I think we should, too.” She drew a deep breath and nodded, sure of her decision. “Yep. That’s what I think we should do.”

She shut her eyes and prayed she was right.