Hope Burns
Page 2
“Let me help you with that.”
She shot him a look. “I don’t need help. I can do this.”
She tried again. No go.
“Molly.”
Carter’s voice was soft, laced with tenderness and concern. She wanted him to disappear. She wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, just like she’d tried to erase him from her memories. She wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
“Slide out and let me give it a try.”
With a resigned sigh, she opened the door and got out. Carter slid in and fiddled with the ignition.
“George is a little touchy.”
He turned to face her. “George?”
Crossing her arms, she nodded. “Yes. George.”
His lips curved, and her stomach tumbled. God, he was even more good-looking now than he’d been in high school. He had dark hair, and those mesmerizing green eyes. He wore a polo shirt that stretched tight over his well-muscled biceps. Why couldn’t he have turned out bald and fat and hideously ugly? Not that it would have made a difference anyway, because he still would have been Carter.
When George’s engine finally turned over, tears pricked Molly’s eyes.
Carter got out and held the door for her. “There you go.”
“Thanks.”
He shut the door, then leaned in again. “Molly . . .”
She looked up at him. “Please don’t.”
He nodded and backed up a step so she could pull out of the parking spot, which she did with a little too much fervor. As she drove away, she stared at him way too long in her rearview mirror.
Forcing her attention on the road ahead, she gripped the steering wheel and willed the pain in her heart to go away.
It was in the past. Carter was in the past, and that’s where he was going to stay.
CARTER WATCHED MOLLY drive away, that old junker she drove belching out smoke and exhaust like it was on its last legs.
He shook his head and leaned against the wall of the bake shop, needing a minute to clear his head before he went back to work.
He’d been thinking about Molly for a while now, knowing she was coming back to Hope. She had to, because she was in Luke and Emma’s wedding. He hadn’t expected to see her today, though, when he’d stepped outside to take a break from all the damn paperwork that was his least favorite part of being owner of several body repair shops.
He’d always liked watching the cars go by on his breaks.
When he’d seen an unfamiliar one—an old beat-up Taurus choking out a black trail of exhaust, then wheezing as it came to a stop in front of the bakery—he couldn’t help but wonder who’d drive a piece of shit like that. Surely the owner had to realize the poor junker should be shot and put out of its misery.
His heart slammed against his ribs as a gorgeous brunette stepped out of the car. She had on jeans, a white T-shirt, and sandals as she hurried into the bakery like she didn’t want to be recognized. She even kept her sunglasses on, but there was no mistaking who it was. Not to him, anyway.
He could never forget the curve of her face, the fullness of her lips, or her long legs. It might have been twelve years, and she might have changed from girl to woman, but Molly Burnett was someone Carter would never forget. His pulse had been racing, and he knew damn well he should turn around and go back to his office. But for some reason his body hadn’t been paying the slightest attention to what his mind told it, and he pushed off the wall and started down the street toward the bakery.
He debated going inside, then thought better of it and decided to figure out what the hell it was she was driving. So he’d walked over and studied the car.
A ’99 Taurus. Christ. He wondered where Molly was living, and how the hell that car had made the trip. It had dents all over, patchy rust spots, the muffler was nearly shot, and the tires badly needed replacement—like a year ago.
In retrospect, he should have let Molly be, should have kept his distance from her. But when he’d seen her, he’d closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, transported back to the last time he’d heard her voice. It had been in hurt and anger. The last words they’d said to each other hadn’t been kind ones.
And maybe he wanted to change all that.
But it hadn’t gone at all like he’d expected. She was still hurt, still angry with him, even after all these years.
Carter dragged his fingers through his hair and made his way down the street toward the garage, then back to his office. He shut the door and stared at his laptop, but all he could see was Molly’s long dark hair pulled up in a high ponytail, and her full lips painted some shimmering pink color. She was tan, and her body had changed over the years. She was curvier now, had more of a woman’s figure.
But she was still the drop-dead gorgeous woman he’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
He’d thought he was over her, that what he’d once felt for her in high school was long gone. But they’d had a deeper connection than just being first loves.
And seeing her again had hurt a lot more than he’d thought it would.
Chapter 2
IT HAD TAKEN several miles to stop shaking and get her nerves under control again, but Molly was fine now.
Just. Fine.
Carter wasn’t even in her thoughts anymore.
Much.
She finally came to a stop at her grandmother’s old house, the house Emma now owned and shared with her fiancé, Luke McCormack.
She pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, staring at the one-story brick and frame house.
She shot him a look. “I don’t need help. I can do this.”
She tried again. No go.
“Molly.”
Carter’s voice was soft, laced with tenderness and concern. She wanted him to disappear. She wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, just like she’d tried to erase him from her memories. She wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
“Slide out and let me give it a try.”
With a resigned sigh, she opened the door and got out. Carter slid in and fiddled with the ignition.
“George is a little touchy.”
He turned to face her. “George?”
Crossing her arms, she nodded. “Yes. George.”
His lips curved, and her stomach tumbled. God, he was even more good-looking now than he’d been in high school. He had dark hair, and those mesmerizing green eyes. He wore a polo shirt that stretched tight over his well-muscled biceps. Why couldn’t he have turned out bald and fat and hideously ugly? Not that it would have made a difference anyway, because he still would have been Carter.
When George’s engine finally turned over, tears pricked Molly’s eyes.
Carter got out and held the door for her. “There you go.”
“Thanks.”
He shut the door, then leaned in again. “Molly . . .”
She looked up at him. “Please don’t.”
He nodded and backed up a step so she could pull out of the parking spot, which she did with a little too much fervor. As she drove away, she stared at him way too long in her rearview mirror.
Forcing her attention on the road ahead, she gripped the steering wheel and willed the pain in her heart to go away.
It was in the past. Carter was in the past, and that’s where he was going to stay.
CARTER WATCHED MOLLY drive away, that old junker she drove belching out smoke and exhaust like it was on its last legs.
He shook his head and leaned against the wall of the bake shop, needing a minute to clear his head before he went back to work.
He’d been thinking about Molly for a while now, knowing she was coming back to Hope. She had to, because she was in Luke and Emma’s wedding. He hadn’t expected to see her today, though, when he’d stepped outside to take a break from all the damn paperwork that was his least favorite part of being owner of several body repair shops.
He’d always liked watching the cars go by on his breaks.
When he’d seen an unfamiliar one—an old beat-up Taurus choking out a black trail of exhaust, then wheezing as it came to a stop in front of the bakery—he couldn’t help but wonder who’d drive a piece of shit like that. Surely the owner had to realize the poor junker should be shot and put out of its misery.
His heart slammed against his ribs as a gorgeous brunette stepped out of the car. She had on jeans, a white T-shirt, and sandals as she hurried into the bakery like she didn’t want to be recognized. She even kept her sunglasses on, but there was no mistaking who it was. Not to him, anyway.
He could never forget the curve of her face, the fullness of her lips, or her long legs. It might have been twelve years, and she might have changed from girl to woman, but Molly Burnett was someone Carter would never forget. His pulse had been racing, and he knew damn well he should turn around and go back to his office. But for some reason his body hadn’t been paying the slightest attention to what his mind told it, and he pushed off the wall and started down the street toward the bakery.
He debated going inside, then thought better of it and decided to figure out what the hell it was she was driving. So he’d walked over and studied the car.
A ’99 Taurus. Christ. He wondered where Molly was living, and how the hell that car had made the trip. It had dents all over, patchy rust spots, the muffler was nearly shot, and the tires badly needed replacement—like a year ago.
In retrospect, he should have let Molly be, should have kept his distance from her. But when he’d seen her, he’d closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, transported back to the last time he’d heard her voice. It had been in hurt and anger. The last words they’d said to each other hadn’t been kind ones.
And maybe he wanted to change all that.
But it hadn’t gone at all like he’d expected. She was still hurt, still angry with him, even after all these years.
Carter dragged his fingers through his hair and made his way down the street toward the garage, then back to his office. He shut the door and stared at his laptop, but all he could see was Molly’s long dark hair pulled up in a high ponytail, and her full lips painted some shimmering pink color. She was tan, and her body had changed over the years. She was curvier now, had more of a woman’s figure.
But she was still the drop-dead gorgeous woman he’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
He’d thought he was over her, that what he’d once felt for her in high school was long gone. But they’d had a deeper connection than just being first loves.
And seeing her again had hurt a lot more than he’d thought it would.
Chapter 2
IT HAD TAKEN several miles to stop shaking and get her nerves under control again, but Molly was fine now.
Just. Fine.
Carter wasn’t even in her thoughts anymore.
Much.
She finally came to a stop at her grandmother’s old house, the house Emma now owned and shared with her fiancé, Luke McCormack.
She pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, staring at the one-story brick and frame house.
