And he was ready for her. He came up behind her, smoothing his hand over the curve of her butt. "You have a great ass, Molly. I love to walk behind you and look at it."
"And you have great hands. Why don't you use them on me?" She straightened and undid the button of her jeans, then unzipped them.
"I'd be more than happy to." He pulled her back against his chest, sliding his hand over her sweater to cup her breasts. Even through the sweater and her bra he could feel the tight buds of her nipples, teased and stroked them until she rubbed her butt against his erection.
It was at times like this he felt it was his God-given right as a man to touch this woman, that they'd been meant for each other. No one had ever made him feel the things Molly made him feel, had ever moved him to want as much as he wanted whenever he was with her.
He shifted his hands lower, lifting her sweater to get at the soft skin of her stomach, then dipped his hand inside her jeans, under her panties.
She was hot, damp, and ready for him, melting all over his fingers as he teased and coaxed her body. He'd known her for what felt like his entire life, knew what she liked and how, and it was a little bit of heaven to feel her arch and tremble as she tightened around him, her entire body tensing with her orgasm.
He held her as she rode it out, then pulled down her jeans and unzipped his and put on the condom. He bent her over his car and took a moment to fully appreciate the beauty of the woman before him, before snugging up against her and easing inside.
She lifted, then said, "Carter," in a soft whisper that tightened his balls and made him thrust deeper. With every plunge he wanted to be so much a part of her he didn't know where he ended and Molly began.
God, she was beautiful like this, pushing back against him, raw and untamed, her cries of completion tearing into him, through him, until a groan tore from his throat and he followed with his own orgasm.
He held on to the car with one hand, his other arm wrapped around Molly. She'd shattered him. She always had.
He closed his eyes, listening to her breathe, feeling the pounding of her pulse and the way their bodies fit together. It was something he'd never taken time for when they were younger.
Now, it was just goddamned perfect.
They pulled apart and righted their clothes, then went inside to clean up. He took a quick shower and threw on a T-shirt and sweats.
"Do you want something to drink?" he asked as they settled into the living room.
"I'm a little dehydrated from the alcohol I had earlier," she said as she pulled off her boots, wiggling her toes to stretch. "How about some water?"
He fixed them both drinks, then brought them into the living room. Molly had already stretched out on the sofa, pulling a blanket from the back. She held it open for him and he snuggled in beside her.
She grabbed the remote and flipped the television on, found a movie, then inched beside him, resting her head on his chest. He put his arm around her.
Within about ten minutes, she was asleep.
Well, hell. This was even better. A night spent working on his favorite car, followed up by a surprise visit from his woman, and some mind-blowing sex. To top it off, said favorite woman was now asleep in his arms on the sofa.
He loved her. He paused to reflect on that, waiting for the panic and the doubt.
No panic, no doubt, which shouldn't come as a surprise to him. After all these years, she still had his heart, and he didn't know how to tell her without making her run like hell in the other direction.
Even worse, he didn't know how to get her to stay.
Chapter 31
CHRISTMAS DAY WAS a blur of activity for Molly, from having hot chocolate with her parents Christmas morning, to spending time with her mom and Emma.
Emma and Luke--and their dogs, Boomer, Daisy, and Annie, had shown up midmorning for brunch, so they'd all spent time in the kitchen together cooking.
It was so different from the Christmases she'd had over the past twelve years. To be with her mom and sister making homemade cinnamon rolls--a family tradition on Christmas Day--was special. She'd really missed this, maybe more than she'd allowed herself to admit.
When the doorbell rang around eleven and she found Carter there, she was even more surprised.
"I thought we were meeting later."
"Yeah, but I changed my mind. Besides, I have gifts for everyone."
"Oh. That's so nice, Carter." He was constantly surprising her, and warming her heart with the way he treated her family. They had planned to meet at his house later tonight, when it was just the two of them--alone. To know that he'd taken the time to bring gifts for her family was just so . . .
Him.
She didn't know why she was surprised about anything thoughtful he did.
Why did he have to be so damn sweet? Couldn't he be a jerk every now and then? He was making this so hard on her.
And that thought was simply ridiculous and set her off in a way that confused her.
Which was also ridiculous, but there it was.
"Carter," her mother said, greeting him as he walked in and shed his coat. "I'm so glad to see you. Merry Christmas."
"Same to you, Georgia." He kissed her cheek. "Do I smell cinnamon rolls?"
Her mom smiled and slid her arm in his. "You do. And coffee. Are you hungry?"
"Well, my mom did fix breakfast early this morning, but I've had your homemade cinnamon rolls before, and I'm not going to turn them down if you're offering."
"I am."
They headed into the dining room.
"Molly, pour Carter a cup of coffee, will you?"
Molly sighed. "Sure."
Not at all the way she had planned the day, but whatever. He sat at the table downing two cinnamon rolls while he chatted with Luke and her dad, so she busied herself in the kitchen prepping lunch with her sister while her mom rested her leg.
"You seem . . . irritated," Emma said.
"Me? Not at all." She took out her non-irritation on the celery and onions she was slicing for the stuffing.
"Are you mad that Carter showed up?"
"We were going to have a mini-Christmas alone at his place tonight."
"But he's here now, Molly. Isn't it nice that he took time away from his family to be with you?"
"Yes. It's great."
She had no idea what was wrong with her.
Then they all opened presents, talking excitedly over each other, looking to see what everyone got. Her mom had snuck out to go shopping and had gotten her a beautiful set of new luggage.
"Not that I want you to use them, mind you," her mom said. "But that stuff you dragged in when you got here had seen better days."
Molly laughed and hugged her parents.
Emma got her a pair of earrings with shiny blue sapphires.
"I love these, Em. Thank you."
"I was going to wait for this until later when we're alone, but I want you to open it now," Carter said, handing her a gift bag.
"Okay. It's not lingerie, is it?" she asked, eyeing her parents.
He laughed. "No. Definitely not lingerie."
She sifted through the tissue paper, and pulled out an envelope, opened it up, then read the contents and looked up at him. "Airline tickets?"
"For New Year's Eve. To Las Vegas. I booked us into the Venetian, and we're going to see a show, then bring in the new year at one of the clubs."
"Oh, Moll, that sounds like so much fun," Emma said.
"What a wonderful gift, Carter," her mom said.
Molly didn't know what to think. New Year's was a week away. But still, a trip? Together?
It was sounding more and more like something a couple would do. A couple in a relationship.
She looked up at him and forced a smile. "It's great. Thank you."
"You've been working really hard. I thought a getaway for both of us was a good idea. And we'll take a couple extra days to hang out and have some fun."
"Sounds . . . awesome."
&n
bsp; She brushed her lips against his. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"I'll give you your gift later."
He waggled his brows. "It is lingerie, isn't it?" he whispered.
She rolled her eyes. "No."
They ate and talked and cooked, then ate some more. All in all, it was a perfect day. Even better, her mother was completely comfortable moving around the house now, since her casts had been shortened even more. She was doing so well, and Molly couldn't be happier for her. In a couple of weeks she'd be cast free and starting a new form of therapy to work her muscles now that her bones were mostly healed.
While Carter, Luke, her mom, and her dad played cards in the dining room, Molly and Emma sat in the kitchen together.
"A trip to Vegas, Molly. Aren't you excited?"
"Sure. Yes, definitely. I've never been there."
"One of the few places you haven't lived, right?"
She laughed. "This is true." She took a sip of rum-spiced eggnog.
"I like you and Carter together. He's good for you."
Molly's gaze drifted into the dining room, where Carter looked perfectly comfortable with her parents and her brother-in-law. "Yeah. He's a good guy."
"Even with everything that happened in the past, it looks like you and Carter have reconnected. You seem happy."
She shifted her gaze back to Emma. "Do I?"
"Yes. Happier than I've seen you in a long time, Moll."
She hadn't taken the time to think about it, hadn't allowed herself to dwell on how she felt about Carter--or about being back in Hope again. "Things have been going well, and mainly I'm just so relieved about Mom."
Emma's gaze turned to their mother. "Yes. I'm very happy Mom has recovered so well. But I don't think Mom is the sole reason for your happiness, is she?"
Molly shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't given it a lot of thought."
Emma slid her hand across the table and took Molly's. "Maybe it's time you started thinking about it. About you and Carter. Make some decisions about your future."
She gently pulled her hand away. "I don't know, Em. I'm pretty much a live-in-the-moment kind of woman."
Emma frowned. "You're not thinking of leaving, are you?"
"Today? Of course not."
"You know what I mean, Molly. You're happy here. And Carter? It's obvious how he feels about you."
Was it? She didn't know. They'd been having fun together, but they shared a past that had been fraught with difficulties and hurts that Molly couldn't forget about.
She had no crystal ball that could see into the future and guarantee she'd never be hurt again, that Carter would always be there for her.
For right now, everything was fine.
As far as tomorrow? Who knew? She certainly didn't. She'd lived through enough pain and had no desire to go through it ever again. It was much easier to play it safe.
After Emma and Luke took off to spend the rest of the day with Martha and Ben, Molly went upstairs to change clothes, then followed Carter over to his house.
They were barely inside the door when he pulled her against him and gave her a body-warming kiss that sizzled away the cold from outside. Even her toes tingled.
"I've wanted to do that all day," he said.
She couldn't deny the warmth of his kiss, the tender emotion it evoked. "Well. Merry Christmas to you, too.".
He fixed them drinks, then they settled into the living room. Carter had turned on his Christmas tree lights. It looked good. He wasn't going to buy one since he said it was just him, but she'd insisted. Even she owned a tiny Christmas tree that she put up in her apartment. It just wasn't Christmas without one. He'd relented, so then they had to go get decorations. His mother had given him a few of his childhood ornaments as well. Now it sparkled in his front window. Perfect.
"I forgot to ask you how it went at your parents' this morning?" she asked.
"Good. I got socks," he said with a grin.
She rolled her eyes.
"And a new socket wrench set, which I needed."
"Glad to hear that you got guy things."
She pulled the gift she'd gotten for him out of her purse. "I have something for you."
His brows rose as he took the gift from her, then looked over at her. "Is it more socks?"
"You have a thing for socks. I can tell."
"It means doing less laundry."
She laughed. "No. It's not socks. Sorry."
"This is great, Molly. Thank you."
"You haven't opened it yet."
He looked down at the package. "Oh, right. The wrapping is nice."
"God, Carter, there's not a gold bar in there. Just open it already."
He shot her a grin. "Come on, Moll. Where's your sense of anticipation?"
"And why aren't you immediately tearing into the package? Clearly you do it all wrong."
"I like that we're different in so many ways."
She shook her head. "That's great. Now open your present."
"Okay." He slit open the wrapping at one end--carefully, too.
It was all coming back to her now, all the holidays and birthdays where she had to bite her tongue and wait patiently for him to open a present. But he finally got through the wrapping to the box, and opened it, then stared at the framed photograph inside.
He lifted it out and laid it in his lap. "Molly. Where did you find this?"
"I was moving some old photo albums at my parents', and sat down to go through them. One of the albums was mine. I remembered that I took that photo of you."
Carter stared down at the picture of him leaning against his first car, an '87 Honda Civic. The photo was taken of him at the auto shop in Hope, when he'd first started working there when he was sixteen. Back when Mo Bennett still owned the place.
A lifetime ago. His first start.
He ran his fingers across the picture. He'd been so young. Skinny, before he'd gathered up some muscle. He looked like a punk, all smirk and attitude, his arms folded across his chest, his ankles crossed as he looked at Molly.
He lifted his gaze to her. "Thank you for this."
"You're welcome. I had it blown up and framed. I figured you might want to put it in your office at the shop in Hope."
"I will. It means a lot to me to have it." He leaned over and brushed his lips across hers.
"It was either that or socks," she whispered.
He laughed. "Well, this is much better than socks, and you know what a fan I am of those."
He laid the photo down, then went to the tree, grabbing a small box from underneath it.
"This is for you."
"You already gave me a gift." Her eyes widened at the size.
"This is more . . . personal," he said, his eyes glittering with amusement.
She looked down at the box, then at him. "I hope these are earrings or something."
"I guess you'll have to open the box to see."
Carter couldn't wait to see her reaction to the gift.
She unwrapped the package, saw the black velvet jewelry box inside, and lifted her gaze to his.
He saw panic in her eyes. Okay, he'd thought it was funny. Clearly, she didn't.
He tried smiling at her, to ease the tension. She wasn't buying it.
"Carter."
"Just open the box, Molly."
Her hands were shaking as she lifted the lid on the box.
Inside, on the soft black velvet, was a key.
She exhaled, then looked over at him. "What is this?"
"I figured you were tired of standing outside in the cold, so it's a key to my house."
"Oh."
"You know, so anytime you want to pop over, you can just use the key to get inside."
She lifted the key. "This is . . . great. Thanks."
Yeah, he could tell she was underwhelmed. Maybe a little shocked. But he had to take those first steps, go slow, if he was ever going to get anywhere with her.
"You know you already keep some of
your things here when you spend the night. And eventually, with your mom getting back on her feet, you're going to want to think about where you want to stay after--she's all better."
She lifted her gaze to his, the key lying like a poisonous snake in the open palm of her hand. "What are you saying?"
All the wrong things, obviously. "That maybe you might want to consider this your secondary home, until you find another place to live."
She held the key in the open palm of her hand like it was something toxic. "Oh."
Okay, maybe this hadn't been a good idea after all.
"Hey, no pressure, ya know? If you don't want to use it, you don't have to. And you can hang out at your parents forever. Or not forever. You're free to do whatever you want, Molly. I just wanted to give you another option."
He wanted to tell her he loved her, that he wanted her to move in with him, stay with him. But the look of stricken panic on her face stopped him, so he reined in the urge.
She finally closed her fingers over the key. "I appreciate this so much, Carter. Thank you for opening your home to me."
She was being so . . . polite, and so quiet, like she was choosing each of her words carefully.
He shrugged. "Hey, no big deal, you know? Since you already had a toothbrush, shampoo, and underwear here, I figured you might want a key."
She finally dropped her shoulders and laughed. "I can see your point." She scooted closer. "And thanks for Las Vegas."
"I'm looking forward to Vegas," he said, trying to jolt her out of whatever shock or funk she'd experienced. "I'm ready to play some blackjack."
"Really. So, you're a gambler. How did I not know this about you?"
"I've taken a few trips to Vegas over the years."
"Have you. And did you win money?"
"Won some, lost some."
"How . . . enlightening. You're like this man of mystery. I can picture you at the blackjack tables."
"And craps tables, too. Wait 'til you see me in Vegas. You might be surprised."
She smiled at him now, and he was relieved.
"I look forward to you surprising me."
He pulled her onto his lap. "Hey, there are still a lot of things you don't know about me, babe."
He pressed his lips to hers and hoped things were on the right track now.
Chapter 32
IT WAS THE day before New Year's Eve, and since Christmas, Molly had dived back into work, keeping her mind occupied, trying not to think about the upcoming trip with Carter.
Her mom was doing great and didn't need her at all anymore. Next week she'd get her casts off and she was talking about going back to work, since she could fit in physical therapy around her job, plus she was already driving again since her casts didn't get in the way.