Hope Burns
Page 49
She put the artichoke dip in the refrigerator, then washed her hands. Carter put his dish in the slow cooker, then they grabbed some drinks and settled on the sofa to watch the game.
“I’ve heard Riley’s stats are good enough this season he could be considered a Heisman candidate his sophomore year,” Molly said.
“You do know your football.”
“You thought I was bullshitting you?” she asked.
He gave her a shocked look. “And you cuss now, too. It’s like I don’t even know you.”
“A lot of time has passed, Carter. I’m a big girl now.”
“Next you’ll be telling me you drink alcohol and have sex.”
She laughed and took a drink of the beer he’d given her. “Funny.”
He nudged her with his leg. “Who’ve you got for this game? Baylor is tough and their quarterback is a senior. He’s going to be good in the pros.”
She nodded. “Agreed, but this is Riley’s year. Texas is undefeated, and I think they’re going to take the Big 12 again this year. They’re my pick for this game.”
“I think I’m going to have to agree with you.”
On the next play, Riley threw a perfect pass to a wide-open receiver, who ran thirty-six yards for a touchdown.
Carter and Molly smiled at each other.
“Yeah, it’s going to be that kind of game.”
It was a blowout, with Texas winning forty-three to sixteen over Baylor. After that, they took a break to set a few things up around the house. Carter made sandwiches for them, and they sat down to watch the Missouri game, though Molly kept an eye on the time, because she’d need about an hour to do her hair and makeup for her costume, and she didn’t want to be in the middle of that when people started arriving.
So at halftime, with Missouri thankfully ahead, though only by one touchdown, she headed into Carter’s bedroom to start getting ready. It would be dark soon, and who knew when kids would start to arrive.
This ensemble was going to take some work, and she wanted it to be perfect, especially since there were several parts to it.
She grinned as she entered the bathroom.
CARTER DECIDED SINCE Molly was going to get dressed, he probably should, too. He’d moved all his stuff into the spare bedroom so he’d be out of her way in the master, so he dashed into the bathroom to do his makeup—something he definitely was not adept at, but he did the best he could. At least he’d read the instructions, and there was glue stuff to do the bolts, plus the hair piece. He inspected himself in the mirror and laughed. Not bad.
He put on the clothes and the clunky shoes, hoping like hell he could walk in these damn things without falling over. When he’d seen the outfit at the costume store, he knew it was perfect, and it went with the whole atmosphere of the house.
He clomped into the kitchen to refresh his beer, then heard the door open to the bedroom. His eyes widened when he saw Molly.
“Oh my God,” she said as she entered the kitchen. “You’re Frankenstein.”
“And you’re the Bride of Frankenstein.”
She looked amazing, her hair all wavy, with a shock of white on both sides. She wore a white sheath, and her lips were painted dark, dark red. She had painted on stitched scars across her neck and arms in red, with a few blood drops on the white sheath for effect.
It was awesome. She looked ethereal, and gorgeous.
She came over to him. “Your makeup is perfect. And those bolts on your neck.” She reached up to touch one, then looked down at his feet. “Those shoes are amazing. You must be four inches taller.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I hope I don’t trip over anything.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I can’t believe we match. I didn’t tell anyone about my costume.”
“I didn’t, either. It’s like a psychic connection or something.”
“Yeah, or something.”
“It’s perfect, Moll.”
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then smiled. “Right. We’re going to scare all the kids tonight.”
She wouldn’t scare anyone the way she looked. She took his goddamn breath away. He wanted to close the door, turn out the lights, and kiss those ruby red lips for about twelve hours.
Hell, he was getting hard just thinking about it, but judging from the wary looks she was shooting his way, and the fact he’d actually invited people over tonight for a party, he was just going to have to get his wayward body under control.
So he took a deep breath and mentally squashed his lustful thoughts—at least for now.
“And speaking of the kids, it’s starting to get dark, so I should get the show ready to go.”
He turned on the lights surrounding the tree and the house, and set the dry ice so smoke would billow around the porch. Then he turned on the scary music. By then, a few people had started to show up, so Molly got to work making drinks and setting the appetizers out on the table and on the bar.
“Decided not to wear a costume tonight, huh?” Logan asked him as he and Des came in.
“Yeah, too much work. And look at you, all dressed up.”
“Des made me,” Logan said with a grimace.
“Oh, quit complaining.” Des rolled her eyes. “You would have thought I asked him to dig me a grave. Though, if we didn’t have so much land and so few trick-or-treaters, that might have been funny, especially since he is dressed like an undertaker, and I’m the dead body.”
“I’ve heard Riley’s stats are good enough this season he could be considered a Heisman candidate his sophomore year,” Molly said.
“You do know your football.”
“You thought I was bullshitting you?” she asked.
He gave her a shocked look. “And you cuss now, too. It’s like I don’t even know you.”
“A lot of time has passed, Carter. I’m a big girl now.”
“Next you’ll be telling me you drink alcohol and have sex.”
She laughed and took a drink of the beer he’d given her. “Funny.”
He nudged her with his leg. “Who’ve you got for this game? Baylor is tough and their quarterback is a senior. He’s going to be good in the pros.”
She nodded. “Agreed, but this is Riley’s year. Texas is undefeated, and I think they’re going to take the Big 12 again this year. They’re my pick for this game.”
“I think I’m going to have to agree with you.”
On the next play, Riley threw a perfect pass to a wide-open receiver, who ran thirty-six yards for a touchdown.
Carter and Molly smiled at each other.
“Yeah, it’s going to be that kind of game.”
It was a blowout, with Texas winning forty-three to sixteen over Baylor. After that, they took a break to set a few things up around the house. Carter made sandwiches for them, and they sat down to watch the Missouri game, though Molly kept an eye on the time, because she’d need about an hour to do her hair and makeup for her costume, and she didn’t want to be in the middle of that when people started arriving.
So at halftime, with Missouri thankfully ahead, though only by one touchdown, she headed into Carter’s bedroom to start getting ready. It would be dark soon, and who knew when kids would start to arrive.
This ensemble was going to take some work, and she wanted it to be perfect, especially since there were several parts to it.
She grinned as she entered the bathroom.
CARTER DECIDED SINCE Molly was going to get dressed, he probably should, too. He’d moved all his stuff into the spare bedroom so he’d be out of her way in the master, so he dashed into the bathroom to do his makeup—something he definitely was not adept at, but he did the best he could. At least he’d read the instructions, and there was glue stuff to do the bolts, plus the hair piece. He inspected himself in the mirror and laughed. Not bad.
He put on the clothes and the clunky shoes, hoping like hell he could walk in these damn things without falling over. When he’d seen the outfit at the costume store, he knew it was perfect, and it went with the whole atmosphere of the house.
He clomped into the kitchen to refresh his beer, then heard the door open to the bedroom. His eyes widened when he saw Molly.
“Oh my God,” she said as she entered the kitchen. “You’re Frankenstein.”
“And you’re the Bride of Frankenstein.”
She looked amazing, her hair all wavy, with a shock of white on both sides. She wore a white sheath, and her lips were painted dark, dark red. She had painted on stitched scars across her neck and arms in red, with a few blood drops on the white sheath for effect.
It was awesome. She looked ethereal, and gorgeous.
She came over to him. “Your makeup is perfect. And those bolts on your neck.” She reached up to touch one, then looked down at his feet. “Those shoes are amazing. You must be four inches taller.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I hope I don’t trip over anything.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I can’t believe we match. I didn’t tell anyone about my costume.”
“I didn’t, either. It’s like a psychic connection or something.”
“Yeah, or something.”
“It’s perfect, Moll.”
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then smiled. “Right. We’re going to scare all the kids tonight.”
She wouldn’t scare anyone the way she looked. She took his goddamn breath away. He wanted to close the door, turn out the lights, and kiss those ruby red lips for about twelve hours.
Hell, he was getting hard just thinking about it, but judging from the wary looks she was shooting his way, and the fact he’d actually invited people over tonight for a party, he was just going to have to get his wayward body under control.
So he took a deep breath and mentally squashed his lustful thoughts—at least for now.
“And speaking of the kids, it’s starting to get dark, so I should get the show ready to go.”
He turned on the lights surrounding the tree and the house, and set the dry ice so smoke would billow around the porch. Then he turned on the scary music. By then, a few people had started to show up, so Molly got to work making drinks and setting the appetizers out on the table and on the bar.
“Decided not to wear a costume tonight, huh?” Logan asked him as he and Des came in.
“Yeah, too much work. And look at you, all dressed up.”
“Des made me,” Logan said with a grimace.
“Oh, quit complaining.” Des rolled her eyes. “You would have thought I asked him to dig me a grave. Though, if we didn’t have so much land and so few trick-or-treaters, that might have been funny, especially since he is dressed like an undertaker, and I’m the dead body.”
