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But while she might occasionally fantasize about being a writer, she didn’t have any illusions that she could simply decide to make that kind of career change and expect to pay the bills. So what could she do?
She felt the sting of tears in her eyes as the questions came at her from all directions. Questions without apparent answers. Problems without any solutions.
She sat on a stool and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and wished again that her father was here. Since he’d passed away, she’d been the mature and responsible one—the one everyone else turned to for help, the shoulder that others cried on. For once—just once—she wanted a shoulder to cry on, strong arms to wrap around her, someone she could count on and believe in and—
She shook her head, furiously pushing aside the image of Eric Santiago that managed to steal into her mind. How could she even think about leaning on him when he was the one who’d started her world spinning out of control? She couldn’t. No way, no how.
Molly would handle this current predicament as she’d handled everything else in her life since her father died—on her own.
Eric managed to stay away from the restaurant and the temptation of Molly for three days. On day four, he decided he wanted to go out for lunch, and found himself driving toward Shea’s. She was right in saying that they didn’t know one another very well, but what he found more interesting than this assertion was her determination to keep him at a distance so that she wouldn’t get to know him.
This time when he entered the restaurant, he saw Molly not standing behind the bar but seated at it, talking to another woman beside her. He wasn’t going to interrupt, but it was almost as if she was as attuned to his presence as he was to hers, because she looked up and her eyes met his.
He smiled, and she smiled back, albeit tentatively.
As if cluing in to the silent exchange, the woman seated beside Molly looked up. The two women looked enough alike that he would have guessed they were sisters, though he hadn’t known that she had a sister, which again proved her point that there was a lot they didn’t know about one another.
Molly was wearing slim-fitting jeans and a sleeveless blouse with tiny little flowers embroidered on the collar. Practical yet feminine, he thought, and so perfectly suited to Molly. Her sister was wearing a dress with a criss-cross tie down the back that drew attention to her curves and strappy sandals with pencil-thin heels. Her hair wasn’t as long or as dark as Molly’s and was streaked with lighter strands.
His gaze moved back to Molly, noting the hair that was pulled away from her face in a ponytail, the deep blue eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes, full lips that were slicked with clear gloss, and he felt the now-familiar stir of desire low in his belly.
“Just in the neighborhood?” Molly asked.
“Just hungry,” he said. “And I heard they serve a pretty good lunch in here.”
“You heard right,” Molly said. Then, at the nudge from her sister, she made the introductions.
“This is my sister, Abbey,” she told him. Then to Abbey, “Meet Prince Eric Santiago.”
“Prince Eric?”
“Scott’s best friend,” Molly explained to her sister.
“The best man,” Abbey said, and lifted a brow. “And are you? The best, I mean.”
Eric looked at Molly, who rolled her eyes.
“You’re married,” she reminded her sister.
“Separated,” Abbey said.
“And Eric came in for a meal, not an interrogation.” Molly stood and, grabbing a menu from the counter, led him to a booth in the corner.
“I wouldn’t mind some company,” he said, sliding into the booth.
“You want me to send my sister over?”
“I meant your company,” he clarified.
“Sorry, I have to finish up next week’s schedule.”
He hadn’t really expected that she would accept his invitation.
For reasons he couldn’t even begin to fathom, she was edgy around him, almost antagonistic. Instead of dissuading him, her attitude only made him all the more determined to break through her barriers and rediscover the warm, wonderful woman he knew was inside.
“You could do that here—unless you think I’m too much of a distraction.”
“You’re just too much.”
He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You would.” She dropped the menu on the table, then with a sigh, she slid into the seat across from him. “You have a way of irritating me so that I forget I’m trying to be nice.”
“Why does it take such an effort?”
“Because you rub me the wrong way.”
He let his eyes rake over her, in a slow and very hot perusal, before he said, “That’s not how I remember it.”
She huffed out a breath. “You see? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I’m attempting to have a normal conversation and you keep throwing out these little references to a night I’m trying to forget.”
“Why are you trying to forget?”
“Because it’s over and done and it’s not going to happen again.”
“It seems to me that if forgetting is such an effort, it’s not nearly as over and done as you want to believe.”
She drew in a deep breath, expelled it slowly, deliberately.
“I wanted to say that hosting the wedding in Tesoro del Mar is an incredibly kind and generous thing to do.”
“And you’re surprised that I can be kind and generous?” he couldn’t resist teasing.
“No,” she said. “I’m just trying to thank you for turning what could have been a disaster into a celebration.”
“My motives aren’t entirely noble.”
“No?”
“I want to spend time with you, Molly, and you’ll have a lot fewer excuses to avoid me when we’re in Tesoro del Mar.”
“You made the offer before you even knew I was Fiona’s maid of honor,” she pointed out.
“Guilty,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to take advantage of the fact.”
“I’m flattered by your interest, Eric, really. But I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”
“Why not?”
“My reasons aside, I can’t believe you’re looking to get involved with a bartender.”
“I’m not a snob, Molly.”
“But you’re a prince, and I can’t imagine a foreigner with neither a title nor a fortune would ever be a suitable companion—even temporarily—for a royal.”
He couldn’t help but smile at that. “Both of my sisters-in-law used to think the same way. Lara was an Irish nanny. Jewel was an American horse trainer.”
“And your point?”
“Well, I’m not asking you to marry me.”
She responded to his assurance with a small smile, and he felt another tug inside. It was warmer and softer than desire, but somehow stronger, too. And he realized he would do almost anything to earn another one of those smiles, for more quiet moments like this one.
“But when we get to the island,” he continued, “I might ask to show you around.”
She studied him for a moment, those deep blue eyes considering, before she said, “And if you ask nicely, I just might say yes.” Then she slid out of the booth. “Enjoy your lunch.”
As Eric watched her walk away, appreciating the way worn denim molded to a nicely toned derriere, he was pleased with her response. It was a small step forward, but after so many in retreat, at least it was progress.
Chapter Five
Abbey came into the kitchen the next day and sat by the prep counter to watch Molly chop carrots and celery into sticks. For her sister to show up at the restaurant two days in a row was unusual, and Molly found herself wondering if Abbey had come in to see her or hoping to see Eric again—a question that was answered when Abbey said, “Jason came home last night.”
Molly stopped chopping to look at her sister, trying to decide if this was good news, trying not to resent the fact that her sister didn’t see anything wrong with asking for advice about her marriage to the man she’d stolen from Molly.
“Do you want to reconcile?” she asked.
Abbey nodded. “I just want everything back the way it was before he left.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“He said there are changes that need to be made.” Abbey pouted.
“What kind of changes?”
“For starters, he wants me to get a job.”
And the only job Abbey had ever wanted was to be a wife and mother—and Molly suspected it was the unrealized latter part of that desire that was the cause of most of her sister’s marital problems.
“It’s not that I’m opposed to working,” Abbey said. “I’ve just never been really good at anything.”
“You’ve never tried to be good at anything,” Molly corrected. “Except shopping.”
Her sister brightened at that. “I could get a job as a personal shopper.”
“At least then you’d be spending other people’s money.”
“Do you really think I’m qualified?”
“I have no doubt you’re qualified, but I’m not sure there’s much demand for personal shoppers outside the big cities.”
Abbey sighed. “You’re probably right.”
Another few minutes passed, during which Molly tried to discard the thought that popped into her mind, but it refused to go away until finally, with more resignation than enthusiasm, she said, “You could work here.”
Abbey stared at her as if she’d suggested that she dance naked on the tables instead of serve meals to the customers seated at them.
“Work?” she echoed. “Here?”
“I know it’s an odd concept, but there are several of us who actually do so. The pay’s not great,” Molly admitted. “But the tips are pretty good.” And after the abrupt and unexpected departure of one of her waitresses, Molly was desperate for another pair of hands to work the dinner shift. She’d been doing everything she could to help out herself, but she was already feeling the effects of the extra hours on her feet, and knew that couldn’t continue.
“Tips?”
“Of course, you’d have to learn to smile instead of scowl if you wanted to earn any.”
Abbey sighed. “When can I start?”
“Four o’clock.”
Molly wasn’t surprised that Abbey showed up less than five minutes before her shift was scheduled to begin, but she was pleased that her sister apparently remembered the routine from when she’d waited tables through high school. Abbey caught on to the routine quickly and managed to take orders and deliver meals with little mishap. She finished her first shift with sore feet and a pocketful of tips that, when added up, elicited a weary smile.
Abbey worked again the next afternoon, and the day after that, and by the end of the week, Molly was actually starting to think the arrangement might work out.
Though there hadn’t been an empty table during the midday rush, the restaurant was now mostly empty and Molly poured herself a cup of decaf and took a seat at the bar. There was a table with three men in suits who were finishing up a business meeting along with their lunches, another at which was seated a couple of older women who seemed more interested in conversation than their meals, and at a booth in the back, a young couple lingering over coffee.
Molly was proud that her business appealed to such an eclectic group, and pleased that the additional funds she’d spent on advertising over the past twelve months was proving to be a good investment. Shea’s had once been “the little roadside bar just past the sharp curve in the highway,” now it was “that fabulous little restaurant just past the sharp curve in the highway.”
She hadn’t taken the first sip of her coffee when her brother-in-law came in.
“If you’re looking for your wife, she just left.”
“I’m not,” Jason said, then walked behind the bar, poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down beside her.
It was the first time she’d seen him in the restaurant since he and Abbey separated a few months earlier, and she was as curious as she was wary about his reasons for being here now. Because he, too, didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with dumping his problems in Molly’s lap, despite having dumped her to marry her sister.
“I have a business proposition to discuss with you.”
Now she was really curious, but she just sipped her decaf and waited for him to explain.
Instead of speaking, he set a cashier’s check beside her cup.
Her eyes popped open wide as she took in the numbers.
“Where did you get that kind of cash?”
“My severance package from Raycroft Industries.”
She’d read about the proposed merger of the local manufacturing plant with a multinational corporation several months earlier and had wondered how it might affect her brother-in-law, who had worked there for the past half-dozen years.
“I’d like to buy into a partnership,” he said.
For the amount of the check he was offering, he could buy the whole restaurant, and Molly was almost tempted to let him do so. She’d certainly feel more comfortable selling out than going into partnership with a man who had betrayed her once already. “Why?” she asked instead.
“I have managerial experience and I think I’d enjoy working here—and working with Abbey might give both of us something to focus on other than the baby she wants so badly and can’t have.”
Which led Molly to suspect that Abbey had decided she’d rather own the restaurant than simply work in it—and, like everything else she’d ever wanted, there was a man willing to give it to her.
“Is this what Abbey wants?” she asked him.
“If she had her way, we’d spend the whole amount on fertility treatments. But I think she could be convinced to agree to this.”
Molly felt an instinctive tug of sympathy for what her sister and brother-in-law had been through, and a twinge of guilt that what they’d struggled for so desperately had happened so easily for her. And then a surge of annoyance at letting herself experience even that momentary twinge when it was Abbey and Jason together who had destroyed her own dreams.
“Have you really thought about this, or is it an impulse?”
“You know I don’t do anything on impulse,” Jason said.
“Weddings in Las Vegas aside?”
“It was one wedding, and it was because Abbey and I didn’t know how to tell you that we’d fallen in love.”
Molly sighed, because she knew it was true and because—nine years later—she was over it, or at least she felt that she should be. Was it the depth of the hurt that made her heart still ache? Or was it something lacking inside herself that made her unable to truly forgive their betrayal?
In either case, she knew it was time she got over her resentment and got on with her life, and maybe Jason was offering her the chance to finally do just that.
“Speaking of weddings,” she said, “I’m going to Tesoro del Mar for Fiona and Scott’s.”
Although Abbey was the bride’s cousin, too, she’d never been as close to Fiona as Molly was. And Fiona had never forgiven her for stealing Molly’s fiancé, holding so tightly to her grudge against Abbey that she hadn’t even wanted to invite her youngest cousin to the wedding. It was their grandmother who had insisted that she do the right thing, and while Abbey and Jason would be invited to attend the rescheduled reception in a few months, Fiona refused to extend the close circle who had been invited to the island ceremony to include them.
“I was going to ask Karen and Sam to cover my night shifts,” Molly continued, “but if you wanted to take them instead, it would give you a chance to see if this is what you really want, before making a final decision.”
He reached for her hand as she pushed her stool back. “Thanks, Molly. I know you don’t owe me anything, but I appreciate this opportunity.”
“Don’t screw it up.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
When Eric walked into Shea’s, he saw Molly holding hands with another man and felt the churn of dark and unfamiliar emotions in his belly. He had no claim to her. One night of sex, no matter how spectacular, gave him no proprietary right, but that knowledge didn’t negate the fact that when he’d seen the other man reach for her, he’d felt his own hands curl into fists and heard only one thought in his mind—mine.
She was on her way to the door when she saw him a minute later. She smiled easily, as if she hadn’t just been cozied up with some other guy.
“You’re a little late for lunch today, aren’t you?” she asked him.
“I had lunch with Fiona and Scott today,” he told her, responding in a similarly casual tone.
“And you’re early for dinner,” she prompted.
He managed to smile. “I actually came to see you, if you’ve got a few minutes.”
“Can we take those minutes upstairs? I’ve been here since eight and I want a change of scenery and popcorn.” She started up to her apartment without waiting to see if he agreed.
He followed.
She unlocked the door, kicked off her shoes and moved into the kitchen. Snagging a box of Orville Redenbacher’s from the cupboard, she unwrapped the cellophane from a package and pressed a couple of buttons on the microwave.
He frowned, remembering what she’d said about having been at the restaurant since eight. “That isn’t your lunch, is it?”
“Not really. I snacked on some cheese balls and potato skins in the kitchen, but I was suddenly craving popcorn.” She frowned at that.
“Vegetables are one of the food groups, too,” he pointed out.
The popcorn had mostly stopped popping, and she smiled as she opened the door of the microwave and pulled the bag out. “And corn is a vegetable.”
She tore open the top of the bag and a puff of steam and rich, buttery scent escaped. “Why did you want to see me?”
“You mean, other than the fact that I really like looking at you?” he couldn’t help but tease, and had the pleasure of watching her cheeks flush.
“Other than that,” she agreed dryly.
“I wanted to let you know that I finalized the travel arrangements. Scott and Fiona are coming with me tomorrow, but you can fly in with Scott’s parents next Wednesday, if that works better for you.”
“My grandparents aren’t coming at all?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Fiona didn’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not really, either,” she admitted. “I was just hoping…Neither of us have our parents anymore. My mom walked out, my dad died, and Fiona’s mom and dad were both killed in a car accident a few years back, so aside from each other and Abbey, our grandparents are the only real family we have.”
“Do you want me to talk to them, see if I could change their minds?”
She smiled. “Thanks, but no one changes my grandmother’s mind about anything once she’s made it up and she refuses to go anywhere near an airplane.”
“So do you want to come tomorrow or next week?” Eric asked her.
She hesitated, then said, “I think tomorrow could work.”
He was both pleased and surprised by her response. “I thought you didn’t want to be away from the restaurant for too long.”
“I didn’t,” she admitted. “But I had an interesting conversation with someone before you showed up and I’m starting to think that this is something I have to do.”
“An interesting conversation with the guy at the bar?” He shouldn’t have asked—he knew it was none of his business. But the question had been eating away at him since he’d seen them together, noted the obvious familiarity in their interactions with one another.
“Jason,” she said, and nodded.
“And who is Jason?”
“My ex-fiancé.”
He scowled. “You were engaged to that guy?”
“A long time ago,” she said.
Which made him feel marginally better until he remembered that the guy had been holding her hand not such a long time ago.
“What time tomorrow?” she asked, in what seemed to him an obvious attempt to change the topic but might simply have been a desire to know the specifics of their travel plans.
“Six-thirty,” he told her.
“A.M.?”
“Yeah.”
Molly crumpled up the now empty popcorn bag and tossed it into the garbage. “Then I’m going to kick you out now so I can pack because I have to be back downstairs in an hour.”
As usual, Molly worked until closing that night. Jason came in at ten and stayed behind the bar with his sister-in-law, shadowing her every movement. Usually Molly could close everything up and be cashed out within half an hour of locking the door behind the last customer, but having to explain every step to Jason meant the routine took more than twice as long.
Still, she was awake and ready when the knock came at the door at precisely 6:30 a.m. the next morning—if not exactly alert.
She was surprised that Eric had come up instead of sending his driver, and more than a little disconcerted when he swore softly in Spanish and reached out to her.
“Mi Dios.” He brushed a thumb gently beneath her eye, tracing the purple shadows she hadn’t even tried to cover with makeup. “You don’t look as if you’ve slept.”
“I got a few hours,” she said, shifting away, as much from the casual intimacy of the gesture as the surge of warmth evoked by his tender touch, to reach for her suitcase.
He immediately pried the handle from her fingers. “I’ve got it.”
She lifted a brow. “You take control quite easily for a man who’s probably had servants picking up after him his whole life.”
“No one waits on anyone else in the navy, regardless of title or rank,” he told her.
The statement reminded her not just that he’d served his country but of the scars on his body that had been earned in that service. But instead of thinking of the injury that had ended his career, she found herself thinking of his taut, hard muscles and warm, smooth skin and the heat of his body moving against hers. Just the memories were enough to make her body tingle all over, stirring up yearnings that had been long dormant until the first night he’d walked into the bar.
Over the past several weeks, she’d managed—with effort—to keep those memories at bay. Mostly, anyway. But her tired brain was no match for the rising heat in her blood evoked by his nearness. She’d read about the enhanced sensual awareness that many women experienced during pregnancy and knew that she was one of them.
“Damn hormones,” she muttered under her breath.
He turned. “Did you say something?”
She just shook her head and followed him down the stairs.
While Scott and Fiona were cuddled close together, talking about the wedding or the future or whatever else soon-to-be-marrieds talked about, Eric watched Molly sleep.
He’d watched her sleep the night they’d spent together in her bed, when exhaustion had finally overwhelmed the passion that brought them together. He wanted her now as much as he’d wanted her then. The only thing that had prevented him from waking her and slipping into the wet heat of her sexy little body was the realization that they’d depleted the store of condoms he’d bought from the vending machine in the men’s room.
As he watched her now, he wondered what it was about this one woman that had taken hold of him. And he was baffled that the woman who had once been so warm and willing in his arms was so determined to keep him at arm’s length now.
He knew his reappearance in her life had thrown her for a loop, but he suspected that there was more going on than that. It was as if, in the few weeks that he’d been gone, her entire life had been turned upside down. He wasn’t egotistical enough to believe that he was responsible for that. As spectacular as their night together had been, neither of them had expected it would be any more than that.