This Heart of Mine (34 page)

"Of course."

Molly had no agent, new or old. Her career had been so small that she hadn't needed one, but something had definitely changed. "Tell me what's happened, Helen."

"It was the publicity. The new sales figures just came out two days ago. Between the press coverage of your marriage and the SKIFSA stories, your sales have soared."

"But I was married in February, and SKIFSA went after me in April. You're just noticing?"

"We spotted the first rise in March and another in April. But the numbers weren't all that significant until we got our end-of-the-month report for May. And the preliminary June figures are even better."

Molly decided it was a good thing she was sitting down, because her legs would never have held her. "But the publicity had died down. Why are the numbers shooting up now?"

"That's what we wanted to find out, so we've spent some time on the phones taking with booksellers. They're telling us that adults originally bought a Daphne book out of curiosity—either they'd heard about your marriage or they wanted to see what SKIFSA was so upset about. But once they took the book home, their kids fell in love with the characters, and now they're coming back to the stores and buying the whole series."

Molly was stunned. "I can't believe this."

"The kids are showing the books to their friends. We're hearing that even parents who've supported SKIFSA's other boycotts are buying the Daphne books."

"I'm having a hard time taking this in."

"I understand." Helen crossed her legs and smiled. "After all these years you're finally an overnight success. Congratulations, Molly."

Janice and Paul Hubert were the perfect couple to run a bed-and-breakfast. Mrs. Hubert's eggs were never cold, and none of her cookies burned on the bottom. Mr. Hubert actually enjoyed unstopping toilets and could talk to the guests for hours without getting bored. Kevin fired them after a week and a half.

"Need some help?"

He pulled his head out of the refrigerator and saw Lilly standing just inside the kitchen door. It was eleven at night, two weeks and one day since Molly had left. It was also four days since he'd fired the Huberts, and everything had turned to crap.

Training camp started in a couple of weeks, and he wasn't ready. He knew he should tell Lilly that he was glad she'd stayed to help out, but he hadn't gotten around to it, and it made him feel guilty. There'd been something sad about her ever since Liam Jenner had stopped showing up for breakfast. Once he'd even tried to mention it, but he'd been clumsy, and she'd pretended not to understand.

"I'm looking for rapid-rise yeast. Amy left a note that she might need some. What the hell is rapid-rise yeast?"

"I have no idea," she replied. "My baking is pretty much limited to box mixes."

"Yeah. Screw it." He shut the door.

"Missing the Huberts?"

"No. Only the way she cooked and the way he took care of everything."

"Ah." She gazed at him, amusement temporarily overriding her unhappiness.

"I didn't like how she treated the kids," he muttered. "And he was making Troy nuts. Who cares if the grass gets mowed clockwise or counterclockwise?"

"She didn't exactly ignore the kids. She just didn't pass out cookies to every scamp who showed up at the kitchen door like Molly did."

"That old witch shooed them off like they were cockroaches. And forget about taking a few minutes to tell the kids a story. Is that too much to ask? If a kid wants to hear a story, don't you think she could put down her damn Lysol bottle long enough to tell 'em a story?"

"I never heard any of the kids actually ask Mrs. Hubert to tell them a story."

"They sure as hell asked Molly!"

"True."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

Kevin opened the lid on the cookie jar, but closed it again when he remembered the ones inside were store bought. He reached into the refrigerator for a beer instead. "Her husband was even worse."

"When I heard him tell the kids not to play soccer on the Common because they were ruining the grass, I figured he might be doomed."

"Slytherin."

"The B&B guests did love the Huberts, though," she pointed out.

"That's because they don't have kids here like the cottage people do."

He offered her a beer, but she shook her head and got a water tumbler from the cupboard instead. "I'm glad the O'Brians are staying for another week," she said, "but I miss Cody and the Kramer girls. Still, the new kids are cute. I saw you bought more bikes."

"I forgot about the rug rats. We needed some Big Wheels."

"The older kids all seem to be enjoying the basketball hoop, and you did the right thing hiring a lifeguard."

"Some of the parents are a little too casual." He carried his beer over to the kitchen table, took a seat, then hesitated. But he'd already put this off long enough. "I really appreciate the way you've been helping out."

"I don't mind, but I do miss Molly. Everything's more fun when she's around."

He felt himself growing defensive. "I don't think so. We've had lots of fun without her."

"No, we haven't. The O'Brian boys keep complaining, the old folks miss her, and you've been grouchy and unreasonable." She leaned against the sink. "Kevin, it's been two weeks. Don't you think it's time to go after her? Amy and Troy and I can take care of the place for a few days."

Didn't she realize he'd already thought about this from a hundred different angles? There was nothing he wanted more, but he couldn't go after her, not unless he wanted to settle down forever as a married man, and that was something he couldn't do. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Fair to whom?"

He poked at the label on the bottle with his thumbnail. "She told me… She has feelings."

"I see. And you don't?"

He had more feelings than he knew what to do with, but none of them were going to make him lose sight of what was most important. "Maybe in five or six years things will be different, but I don't have time right now for anything but my career. And let's be realistic—can you see Molly and me together long-term?"

"Without any trouble."

"Come on!" He shot up from his chair. "I'm a jock! I love being active, and she hates sports."

"For someone who hates sports, she's an excellent athlete."

"She's okay, I guess."

"She swims beautifully and dives like a champ."

"That's just from summer camp."

"She plays an excellent game of Softball."

"Summer camp."

"She knows everything about football."

"That's only because—"

"She plays soccer."

"Just with Tess."

"She's studied martial arts."

He'd forgotten about that kung fu move she'd put on him last winter.

"And she told me she'd played on her high school tennis team."

"There you go. I hate tennis."

"Probably because you're no good at it."

How did Lilly know that?

Lilly's smile looked dangerously sympathetic. "I'd say you're going to have a hard time finding a woman who's as athletic and adventurous as Molly Somerville."

"I'll bet she wouldn't go skydiving."

"I'll bet she would."

Even to his own ears he sounded sulky. And Lilly was right about the skydiving. He could almost hear the sound of Molly's screams when he pushed her out of the plane. But he knew she'd love it as soon as her chute popped.

He still felt queasy about her falling in love with him. And angry, too. This had been temporary right from the beginning, so it wasn't as if he'd led her on. And he sure hadn't made any promises. Hell, half the time he'd barely been civil.

It was the sex. Everything had been fine up until then. If he'd kept his pants zipped and his hands to himself, she'd have been fine, but he hadn't been able to do that, not when they were together day after day. And who could blame him?

He thought of the way she laughed. What man wouldn't want to feel that laughter under his lips? And those blue-gray eyes with their wicked tilt were a deliberate sexual challenge. How could he have thought about anything except making love when they were turned his way?

But Molly knew the rules, and great sex wasn't a promise, not in this day and age. All that crap she'd handed out about his not making emotional connections couldn't have been more wrong. He had connections, all right. Important ones. He had Cal and Jane Bonner.

Whom he hadn't talked to in weeks.

He gazed at Lilly. Maybe because it was late and his defenses were down, he found himself telling her more than he intended. "Molly has some opinions about me I don't share."

"What kinds of opinions?"

"She thinks…" He set down his beer bottle. "She says I'm emotionally shallow."

"You are not!" Lilly's eyes flashed. "What a terrible thing to say!"

"Yeah, but the thing is—"

"You're a very complicated man. My God, if you were shallow, you'd have gotten rid of me right away."

"I tried—"

"You'd have given me a few pats on the shoulder and promised to send me a Christmas card. I'd have been satisfied and driven off into the sunset. But you're too emotionally honest to do that, which is why my being here has been so painful for you."

"That's nice of you to say, but—"

"Oh, Kevin… you mustn't ever think of yourself as shallow. I love Molly, but if I ever hear her say anything like that about you, she and I are going to have words."

Kevin wanted to laugh, but his eyes were starting to sting, and his feet were moving, and the next thing he knew, his arms just opened up. Leave it to a man's mother to come to his defense when the chips were down, even if he didn't deserve it.

He gave her a fierce, possessive hug. She made a sound that reminded him of the mew of a newborn kitten.

He hugged her closer. "There are some things I've been wanting to ask you."

A shaky sob against his chest.

He cleared his throat. "Did you ever have to take music lessons and stink at the piano?"

"Oh, Kevin… I still don't know one note from another."

"And do you ever get a rash around your mouth when you eat tomatoes?"

Her grip on him tightened. "If I have too many."

"And what about sweet potatoes?" He heard a hiccuped sob. "Everybody likes them but me, so I wondered…" He stopped because it was getting hard for him to speak. At the same time, pieces inside him that had never quite fit began to come together.

For a while they simply held each other. Finally they began to talk, trying to catch up on three decades in one night, stumbling over their words as they filled in the blanks. By unspoken consent they avoided only two topics: Molly and Liam Jenner.

At three in the morning, when they finally parted at the top of the steps, Lilly stroked his cheek. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night—"
Good night, Mother
. That's what he wanted to say, but it felt like a betrayal of Maida Tucker, and he couldn't do that. Maida might not have been the mother of his dreams, but she'd loved him with all her heart, and he'd loved her right back. He smiled. "Good night, Lilly Mom."

The waterworks really opened up then. "Oh, Kevin… Kevin, my sweet little boy."

He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his lips.

When the alarm forced him out of bed a few hours later to start breakfast, he thought about the night before and the fact that Lilly would be a permanent part of his life now. It felt good. Exactly right.

But nothing else did.

As he made his way down to the gray, empty kitchen, he told himself there was no reason to feel guilty about Molly, but that didn't seem to matter to his conscience. Until he figured out some way to make amends, he'd never be able to stop thinking about her.

Then it came to him. The perfect solution.

Molly stared at Kevin's attorney. "He's giving me the campground?"

The attorney shifted his weight closer to the center of the packing box that held Molly's computer. "He called me first thing yesterday morning. I'm finalizing the paperwork now."

"I don't want it! I'm not taking anything from him."

"He must have known you'd react that way, because he said to tell you if you refused, he'd let Eddie Dillard bulldoze the place. I don't think he was kidding."

She wanted to scream, but it wasn't the attorney's fault that Kevin was high-handed and manipulative, so she controlled her temper. "Is there anything to prevent me from giving the campground away?"

"No."

"All right, I'll accept. And then I'm giving it away."

"I don't think he'll be too happy about that."

"Hand him a box of tissues."

The attorney was young, and he gave her a halfway-flirtatious smile, then gathered up his briefcase and made his way through the furniture to the door. In deference to the July heat, he wasn't wearing a suit coat, but her apartment didn't have air-conditioning, and there was a damp spot on his back. "You might want to get up there fairly soon. Kevin's left, and there's no one in charge."