Hope Burns
Page 25
“That’s great. Thanks.”
“The meeting is Wednesday night. Hopefully you’ll be able to make it. Several people expressed concern about your mom having to drop out for now.” He changed lanes, then gave her a quick look. “She’s been the one who’s been getting things done.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Okay, good.”
He went quiet then, and so did she. He turned on the radio, setting the station.
She shot him a look. “You still listen to the Beach Boys? Really?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“They’re a little . . . seventies.”
“Again, what’s wrong with that?”
She shook her head. “There’s been a lot of great music made in the last forty years, you know.”
He cranked up the volume and shot her a half smile. “Not like this.”
No wonder he named his car Rhonda.
She took out her phone and made a note about the meeting on Wednesday so she wouldn’t forget. Emma would be back next weekend, and she’d have to call her as soon as she got back and fill her in about Mom. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, but she was sleeping better at night knowing Emma and Luke were having a great honeymoon. Besides, there wasn’t anything Emma could have done if they’d cut their honeymoon short. Her sister deserved this. Molly had been the one to stay away all these years. Emma had been gone several years as well, attending school and working out of town, but for the past couple of years she’d been home. And if it hadn’t been lousy timing, Emma would have been the one at home dealing with this.
Molly wondered if she would have come back from Austin if Emma had called her to tell her Mom had had an accident. She hadn’t come home for anything in the past. She’d like to think she would have for this, but every time she’d thought about a visit home, panic had set in.
And now she sat in Carter’s truck, about to spend two days with him. She was tolerating it, and so was he.
Actually, she was more than tolerating it. They seemed to have reached a sort of peace between them. Maybe she’d said what needed to be said, and now that it was out of her system, she could move on. It didn’t mean she was going to move home or anything, but maybe now that she could be in his company, she didn’t have to be so afraid to be around Hope again. Around Carter again.
Though as she took a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but notice the way his jeans fit to his muscular thighs, how he’d rolled up his long-sleeved shirt to his elbows, and the crisp dark hairs on his forearms. She even noticed the way he gripped the steering wheel, her gaze gravitating toward his hands.
He’d always had great hands. She could still recall the way they’d glided over her naked skin. He had learned every secret to her body, knew how to elicit a response from her.
She let out a sigh.
“Okay over there? You need me to stop?”
She needed to stop remembering what it felt like to be touched by him. “No. I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine. She was decidedly un-fine, fantasizing about the last man on earth she should be fantasizing about, and stuck in the car with him for the next—she glanced at the clock in the truck—six and a half hours.
Great.
“Why don’t you pick a radio station you like?” he asked.
Finally.
She found them some tunes from this decade and settled back. They made a stop for lunch at a great burger joint, and she discovered Carter didn’t seem at all uncomfortable with her. In fact, he was a good conversationalist. He talked about the town square project, which piqued her interest quite a bit. She actually couldn’t wait to go to the meeting next week.
But there was still this invisible wall between them, and she was the one who’d put it there by dredging up the nightmare of the past. It was uncomfortable, at least for her. If they were going to endure this trip—and work on the committee together—she had to do something about taking it down.
“About the night of the wedding.”
He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “We don’t have to talk about that, Molly.”
“I think we do. Look, about the things I said . . .”
He gave her a quick glance. “Don’t.”
She stilled, waiting for him to blow up at her.
“You said what you needed to say. You were hurt. I get it. And I wasn’t the most supportive person back then. For that, I’m really sorry. There are a lot of things I’d like a chance to do over—do them right the second time, but I can’t. And I’m sorry about that, too. You told me how you felt, so you don’t have to apologize for that. You never have to apologize for the way you feel, Molly.”
The only thing she could do was stare at him, unprepared for what he’d said.
“Okay.”
“We’re going to be in each other’s orbit for the foreseeable future. We’re both going to have to learn to live with that. I can if you can,” he said.
She felt the wall crack a little. She kept expecting the same Carter she’d known all those years ago, and this wasn’t the same guy. There was a maturity to him she’d never known before.
If she could just tuck the past away and live in the now, if she and Carter could somehow learn to become friends, then she could get through this.
“I think we both can,” she said.
He gave her a half smile. “Good.”
“The meeting is Wednesday night. Hopefully you’ll be able to make it. Several people expressed concern about your mom having to drop out for now.” He changed lanes, then gave her a quick look. “She’s been the one who’s been getting things done.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Okay, good.”
He went quiet then, and so did she. He turned on the radio, setting the station.
She shot him a look. “You still listen to the Beach Boys? Really?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“They’re a little . . . seventies.”
“Again, what’s wrong with that?”
She shook her head. “There’s been a lot of great music made in the last forty years, you know.”
He cranked up the volume and shot her a half smile. “Not like this.”
No wonder he named his car Rhonda.
She took out her phone and made a note about the meeting on Wednesday so she wouldn’t forget. Emma would be back next weekend, and she’d have to call her as soon as she got back and fill her in about Mom. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, but she was sleeping better at night knowing Emma and Luke were having a great honeymoon. Besides, there wasn’t anything Emma could have done if they’d cut their honeymoon short. Her sister deserved this. Molly had been the one to stay away all these years. Emma had been gone several years as well, attending school and working out of town, but for the past couple of years she’d been home. And if it hadn’t been lousy timing, Emma would have been the one at home dealing with this.
Molly wondered if she would have come back from Austin if Emma had called her to tell her Mom had had an accident. She hadn’t come home for anything in the past. She’d like to think she would have for this, but every time she’d thought about a visit home, panic had set in.
And now she sat in Carter’s truck, about to spend two days with him. She was tolerating it, and so was he.
Actually, she was more than tolerating it. They seemed to have reached a sort of peace between them. Maybe she’d said what needed to be said, and now that it was out of her system, she could move on. It didn’t mean she was going to move home or anything, but maybe now that she could be in his company, she didn’t have to be so afraid to be around Hope again. Around Carter again.
Though as she took a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but notice the way his jeans fit to his muscular thighs, how he’d rolled up his long-sleeved shirt to his elbows, and the crisp dark hairs on his forearms. She even noticed the way he gripped the steering wheel, her gaze gravitating toward his hands.
He’d always had great hands. She could still recall the way they’d glided over her naked skin. He had learned every secret to her body, knew how to elicit a response from her.
She let out a sigh.
“Okay over there? You need me to stop?”
She needed to stop remembering what it felt like to be touched by him. “No. I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine. She was decidedly un-fine, fantasizing about the last man on earth she should be fantasizing about, and stuck in the car with him for the next—she glanced at the clock in the truck—six and a half hours.
Great.
“Why don’t you pick a radio station you like?” he asked.
Finally.
She found them some tunes from this decade and settled back. They made a stop for lunch at a great burger joint, and she discovered Carter didn’t seem at all uncomfortable with her. In fact, he was a good conversationalist. He talked about the town square project, which piqued her interest quite a bit. She actually couldn’t wait to go to the meeting next week.
But there was still this invisible wall between them, and she was the one who’d put it there by dredging up the nightmare of the past. It was uncomfortable, at least for her. If they were going to endure this trip—and work on the committee together—she had to do something about taking it down.
“About the night of the wedding.”
He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “We don’t have to talk about that, Molly.”
“I think we do. Look, about the things I said . . .”
He gave her a quick glance. “Don’t.”
She stilled, waiting for him to blow up at her.
“You said what you needed to say. You were hurt. I get it. And I wasn’t the most supportive person back then. For that, I’m really sorry. There are a lot of things I’d like a chance to do over—do them right the second time, but I can’t. And I’m sorry about that, too. You told me how you felt, so you don’t have to apologize for that. You never have to apologize for the way you feel, Molly.”
The only thing she could do was stare at him, unprepared for what he’d said.
“Okay.”
“We’re going to be in each other’s orbit for the foreseeable future. We’re both going to have to learn to live with that. I can if you can,” he said.
She felt the wall crack a little. She kept expecting the same Carter she’d known all those years ago, and this wasn’t the same guy. There was a maturity to him she’d never known before.
If she could just tuck the past away and live in the now, if she and Carter could somehow learn to become friends, then she could get through this.
“I think we both can,” she said.
He gave her a half smile. “Good.”
