was?”
When Molly had volunteered at the hospital, she’d heard things about Jameson—not very flattering things about his arrogance and his predilection for purely superficial relationships. Colleen had volunteered at the hospital longer than Molly had, so surely she had to know Jameson was not to be trusted.
“Your little sister’s a big girl. Bigger than you,” Molly’s mother pointed out with a grin. “She can take care of herself.”
So her mother was obviously more worried about Molly than her sensitive sister? Then she had reason to worry, because Molly had never acted more out of character than she was right now.
“Why are you here?” Molly repeated. “I told you I need time…”
“I know. I know,” her mother assured her. “But you also need food. I brought some wedding leftovers for you.”
“I already had a few of those,” Molly admitted. The shower had washed broccoli, gravy and mashed potatoes from her hair. She touched a riotous curl and wished for a brush. The scent of her strawberries-and-champagne shampoo drifted around her nose…along with the scent of cinnamon. “Did you stop at Kelly Confections? I thought they’d be closed today.”
“Some of Brenna’s staff were working at the store today. They open on Sunday mornings now.”
“Do I smell cinnamon rolls?” Eric called out from the kitchen.
Water gurgled as the coffee brewed, the rich aroma mingling with the cinnamon. Molly’s stomach growled. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten. She’d pretty much lost her appetite the minute she’d accepted Josh’s proposal.
“Because I know you have a sweet tooth,” her mother said as she walked toward Eric in the kitchen, “I also brought you some cake.”
Eric bussed a kiss against the older woman’s cheek when she joined him at the counter. With curly dark hair like Molly’s and eyes just as wide and warm, she was like a living age progression of her beautiful daughter. “That’s why you’re my best girl, Mrs. Mick. You’re joining us for breakfast, right?”
Blushing, she shook her head. “No. I have to get back home. I don’t quite trust Rory as a babysitter.”
Did she trust him? Eric studied the older woman’s face. He knew what she must have thought when he’d opened the door. He was only wearing shorts, Molly was in his shirt, and they were both rumpled with sleep. Since she had found an excuse to stop by, she obviously didn’t trust him. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been tempted last night to give Molly more than his shirt.
But she was still engaged to another man. She needed time to sort out her feelings; she didn’t need him as anything more than a supportive friend.
Mrs. Mick touched his face again, patting his scarred cheek this time. “You keep an eye on my girl, Eric. Make sure she’s really okay.”
“I am okay,” Molly insisted. Then, bristling with pride, she added, “No one needs to keep an eye on me.”
“Sure, honey,” her mother said with gentle condescension. In a flurry of movement Mrs. McClintock stowed food in Eric’s copper-toned refrigerator. Then she kissed and hugged both of them before rushing back to her van.
“What was that?” Eric murmured as he splashed some coffee into a mug.
“A bird. A plane. Nope. Supermom,” Molly joked, bumping her hip against Eric’s as she helped herself to coffee.
His house was too small for the two of them. If they kept rubbing up against each other, he might forget that he was supposed to be only a friend.
“I’m sorry about her barging in like that,” Molly said.
“Sorry about what? She filled the fridge.” Eric bit off a gooey chunk of cinnamon roll. He could handle that Kelly Confection. But he wasn’t sure he could touch the wedding cake. Again. “She’s a sweetheart.”
And Molly, more than any of the other McClintock children, had taken after her mother. She always tried so hard to please everyone else. Had she ever really taken time for her own
When Molly had volunteered at the hospital, she’d heard things about Jameson—not very flattering things about his arrogance and his predilection for purely superficial relationships. Colleen had volunteered at the hospital longer than Molly had, so surely she had to know Jameson was not to be trusted.
“Your little sister’s a big girl. Bigger than you,” Molly’s mother pointed out with a grin. “She can take care of herself.”
So her mother was obviously more worried about Molly than her sensitive sister? Then she had reason to worry, because Molly had never acted more out of character than she was right now.
“Why are you here?” Molly repeated. “I told you I need time…”
“I know. I know,” her mother assured her. “But you also need food. I brought some wedding leftovers for you.”
“I already had a few of those,” Molly admitted. The shower had washed broccoli, gravy and mashed potatoes from her hair. She touched a riotous curl and wished for a brush. The scent of her strawberries-and-champagne shampoo drifted around her nose…along with the scent of cinnamon. “Did you stop at Kelly Confections? I thought they’d be closed today.”
“Some of Brenna’s staff were working at the store today. They open on Sunday mornings now.”
“Do I smell cinnamon rolls?” Eric called out from the kitchen.
Water gurgled as the coffee brewed, the rich aroma mingling with the cinnamon. Molly’s stomach growled. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten. She’d pretty much lost her appetite the minute she’d accepted Josh’s proposal.
“Because I know you have a sweet tooth,” her mother said as she walked toward Eric in the kitchen, “I also brought you some cake.”
Eric bussed a kiss against the older woman’s cheek when she joined him at the counter. With curly dark hair like Molly’s and eyes just as wide and warm, she was like a living age progression of her beautiful daughter. “That’s why you’re my best girl, Mrs. Mick. You’re joining us for breakfast, right?”
Blushing, she shook her head. “No. I have to get back home. I don’t quite trust Rory as a babysitter.”
Did she trust him? Eric studied the older woman’s face. He knew what she must have thought when he’d opened the door. He was only wearing shorts, Molly was in his shirt, and they were both rumpled with sleep. Since she had found an excuse to stop by, she obviously didn’t trust him. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been tempted last night to give Molly more than his shirt.
But she was still engaged to another man. She needed time to sort out her feelings; she didn’t need him as anything more than a supportive friend.
Mrs. Mick touched his face again, patting his scarred cheek this time. “You keep an eye on my girl, Eric. Make sure she’s really okay.”
“I am okay,” Molly insisted. Then, bristling with pride, she added, “No one needs to keep an eye on me.”
“Sure, honey,” her mother said with gentle condescension. In a flurry of movement Mrs. McClintock stowed food in Eric’s copper-toned refrigerator. Then she kissed and hugged both of them before rushing back to her van.
“What was that?” Eric murmured as he splashed some coffee into a mug.
“A bird. A plane. Nope. Supermom,” Molly joked, bumping her hip against Eric’s as she helped herself to coffee.
His house was too small for the two of them. If they kept rubbing up against each other, he might forget that he was supposed to be only a friend.
“I’m sorry about her barging in like that,” Molly said.
“Sorry about what? She filled the fridge.” Eric bit off a gooey chunk of cinnamon roll. He could handle that Kelly Confection. But he wasn’t sure he could touch the wedding cake. Again. “She’s a sweetheart.”
And Molly, more than any of the other McClintock children, had taken after her mother. She always tried so hard to please everyone else. Had she ever really taken time for her own
Similar Books
