Taking the Fall (3 page)

In Molly’s obliviousness, she passed a young couple who walked hand in hand down the cobblestone streets of Clearwater Falls. Hunter observed how the youthful blonde laid her head on the guy’s shoulder as their fingers entwined and they could remain self-absorbed in their love for one another.

He couldn’t help but envision the day he would be able to walk with Molly down this very sidewalk—happy to finally show everyone that he picked his soulmate and display their love to all the world.

The fact was that he had no knowledge whether she would feel the same way when he confessed his feelings. He had to believe that fate would not be so cruel to him.

He was sure that Molly was his fate. And fate always won out, right?

When she reached her destination, having already crossed the street, he leaned against one of the many maple trees that lined this side of the street and watched as she tied Cocoa to the awning post and entered the courthouse.

Now’s your chance, Romeo.

Hunter approached the dog, taking out the dog treat he had in his pocket. He leaned down giving the ailing dog her reward for being his silent and constant accomplice. He patted the happily reciprocating animal until Molly returned.

“Oh, hi Hunter! What are you doing here?” the surprise in Molly’s voice went directly to his heart.

“Just came down to see my dad when I noticed this gorgeous girl.”

Correct adjective, incorrect female.

Molly got down on her haunches and gave the dog some more attention, as she said, “Mom says Cocoa isn’t looking too hot the last couple of days, so I thought some fresh air would do her some good.”

This brought her eye level with Hunter and he fell victim to pure human fault; he drank her in with his eyes as he inhaled her clean vanilla scent. He envisioned the actual leaves of a vanilla plant encircling his head. He watched unabashed as she tilted her head talking sweetly to her beloved pet.

From this position, he could see the clear muscular definition of her thighs and calves, and he itched to just reach out his hand the few inches that separated them to touch the silky softness. But his resolve saw him through.

Damn nobility.

She lifted her eyes, catching his gaze on her and they both stared at each other for a moment too long. Hunter was unable to break the connection, having to sacrifice so much already to have these stolen moments.

Let me have this at least.
Those beautiful green eyes, surely looking clear into his soul, and hopefully, seeing the admiration, fancy, and unequivocal love that was tattooed inside.

Then she smiled, and he knew without a doubt that when the time came and he admitted his feelings for her, she would fall right into his arms. He was counting down the days.

“Well, Cocoa and I don’t want to keep you,” Molly said huskily.

“Keep me?”

Smiling again, wider and just as breathtakingly, she replied, “From seeing your dad?”

Oh yes, the part my foolish notions have required me to play.

“Yeah, I should get inside. Don’t want to keep the judge waiting.”

Hunter wanted so badly to reach out and touch her, just to have some contact with her perfection, a small compensation for the misery of this continual ploy he endured.

“See you around,” he called out as he entered the building he had no business being in. He knew his words were truer than true, yet they didn’t make the time between any less insufferable.

“Come on Cocoa, let’s get home,” she said, untying the pooch and heading back the way she came.

Way to go, Molly. They only way that could have been more awkward were if your legs had actually turned to Jell-O rather than just feeling like they did.

Every time she saw Hunter Dennison, her mouth dried up and she felt herself dumb down. She knew her head was in the clouds with even a notion that he would notice her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t continue the incorruptible romance that occurred between the two of them in her head.

One day, she would admit that she had fallen head over heels in love with him. And she knew that declaration would be met with his always-friendly smile, another example of his constant politeness and courteous upbringing. She just prayed the images of him patting her head in such a scene would not come to fruition.

As she walked Cocoa back to
Molly’s,
she envisioned that she was holding Hunter’s warm, strong hand rather than the leash. She wanted to know what it would be like to have just an ounce of her affection for him returned. Would they walk down this very sidewalk, sharing a private moment of gentle love and complete honesty?

The honking of a horn brought her back to reality as well as emphasizing the improbability that her happily ever after with Hunter would ever occur.

Hey, a girl can dream.

Get used to it, girl. Dreams about Hunter have become your specialty.

Molly reached the restaurant that her parents owned quicker with her thoughts askew. Once inside, she brought the dog to her bed in the corner of the kitchen. She gave her one of her favorite dog treats and an affectionate rub behind her soft ears before grabbing her book bag and taking her favorite seat out in the dining room. When she was comfortable in the corner booth, she knew the time of delaying her dreaded Trigonometry homework had been pushed to its limit. But that didn’t stop her from doodling his name on a scrap of paper and daydreaming about snuggling up with Hunter in this very seat. Knowing that she had pushed off homework long enough, she finally crumpled up the paper and threw it in the bottom of her backpack.

As she read the infuriating word problems, her mind one again floated to the place where he sat with her. He would place his strong arm around her, making the definitions of conditional equations and obtuse angles much easier to bear when they were being whispered in her ear by the warm breath and soft lips she so badly wanted to feel on her face.

“Want a cup of hot chocolate with extra whip cream to help with all that numerical nonsense?” Greg asked breaking the spell. He was the restaurant chef and one of the only men who know her deep and unhealthy aversion to math.

“That would be great, Greg. Thank you.”

With a wink and a smile of his aged, leathery face, the kind man went to fetch her treat.

Molly dove into her homework, the lead of her pencil dwindling fast with the amount of writing she had to do. She lost track of how long ago it was that Greg had left her steaming mug, but now with only half the hot chocolate gone and the whipped cream all but a small white lump on top, Molly had finally finished her homework.

When she lifted her head and the now cooled mug, she noticed strong blue eyes pointed in her direction. He was sitting at the counter, and when she looked up, he smiled.

There it is. A smile just for me. That must mean something, right?

He looked down at where his large cup was before looking back up toward her, motioning with his hand to her booth. Molly nodded and felt the butterflies come to life in her stomach as he stepped off the stool and made his way toward her. When he slid into the seat opposite her, she became very self-conscious of how she looked. It was true that Molly never really put a lot of time and effort into how she looked, but she didn’t think she was hideous either. But given the soccer star god who sat with her, suddenly she couldn’t help but feel juvenile.

“How goes the trig?” he asked his deep voice warming her more than the hot chocolate.

Now would be the time you would respond, Molly. Forget his drop-dead good looks and the way he smells, which is incredible, and focus on putting two words together.

“Oh, you know, I am just an equation eating machine!”

He smiled at her remark, and Molly wanted to just slide down under the table and hit herself in the head for saying something so ridiculous.

“Well, I never thought much about eating equations, but I’m sure with enough ketchup, anything would be edible.” He smiled widely, and she just wanted to die.

There was a brief awkward silence as she watched him twirl his cup around by the bottom before giving her an olive branch delivered by the dreamiest of voices.

“Your mom was telling me that you were having a hard time in Ms. Wasowski’s class. I thought maybe if you needed some help, I could help.”

First of all, of course, the reason he would come over to talk to her would be because he spoke with Mom. Second, the last thing I want is to be paired up with one of the girls who swarm around him with their nose in a book because they think it will get him to notice them. After all, brains are attractive to a valedictorian, right?

“Nah, you don’t need to have one of your brainy friends sit with me. Don’t worry; I will make math my bitch.”

Molly Elizabeth Sowards! Make math my bitch! Shut up! Just shut up!

He blushed a bit at her sudden curse then smiled again, but this time the smile was way more awkward than sincere.

The only way this could get any worse is if you just declare your undying love for him right now, Molly!

“Well, okay, wouldn’t want to get in your way of making ‘math your bitch,’” he said as he began to slide out of the booth. When he stood and reached for his forgotten cup, he looked down at her and said, “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll be happy to help you.”

Like you helping me? Way to assume, Molly. You certainly made an ass out of yourself.

Hunter turned to leave so Molly took the opportunity to place her arms on the table and throw her head down on top of it.

Surely, you could die from complete embarrassment?

But then it got worse. He turned around and with a panty-melting smile, all six-foot-one gorgeous inches of him said, “After all, I made math my bitch a while ago,” then he walked right out the door.

“So, this is it?” Allison asked as she looked around the small restaurant. When her roommate from college invited her to see the small town in New Hampshire where she grew up, as well as the restaurant her parents owned, Allison’s curiosity was piqued.