Taking the Fall (8 page)

Molly had hopes that time would heal this wound, but it hadn’t. Bob still struggled with their friendship, but whether he knew it or not, Molly’s promise to herself was that she owed the man who gave her two beautiful children the respect and expectation of civility if not friendship.

No one was happier than she was when Bob had met Tracey about four years ago. She had hoped that he was finally coming to terms that they were not right for each other. They dated for a short amount of time before eloping a few months later. He seemed happy, the kind of happy a man should be when he found his equal, his other half.

However, her guilt over the pain she had caused him hadn’t ceased. It probably never would.

Over the last couple of years, the sweet man she had met, married, and shared children with had somehow become an almost stranger. Yet, he showed his trump card at the most opportune times.

As hard as it appeared for Bob to come to terms with what had occurred between him and Molly, she had hoped he wouldn’t take it out on their girls. But as more time goes by, Molly saw more and more causes of him playing less than the devoted dad. And it hurt.

Molly, this is your time to relax. Getting worked up over Bob is not what you should be doing.

Molly was on her third lap of the path and currently engrossed in the Maroon 5 song blasting in her ears when she turned the corner that led toward the parking lot and the breath left her lungs. There in the seclusion of the wooded path was Hunter spreading mulch around one of the many granite benches.

Slowly, these memorial or dedication benches have been added throughout the park. It was a nice place to take a rest or at least to appreciate the sentiment behind the engravings.

I was not lost on her that he tended to take his family’s mantra of the importance of community service as his deed to beautifying the town with a bit of landscaping.

But even the beauty of humanity could not stop Molly’s mind from drifting to someplace dark and erotic.

Just like earlier this morning, Molly’s eyes worked him over of their own accord. Every inch of him flexed and extended in physical labor. The way his shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, highlighting the strength beneath, made Molly’s hands itch to feel with her own hands.

It amazed her how he looked as natural doing manual labor as he did working his chosen profession of an emergency room doctor at Falls General.

Regardless of how much time had passed, and considering everything that had occurred all those years ago, she knew that she would always have a soft spot for him. Regret riddled with continual longing should have been enough for her to find the strength to at least tell him how she felt, but she hadn’t.

She considered turning around and walking back the way she came, but that would only show how much of an idiot she was.

In her moments of indecisiveness, her ears registered him coughing, which caused him to halt what he was doing, still unknowing that he had an audience. He reached over and grabbed for the bottle of water about a yard away.

Molly watched in fascination as his throat bobbed, swallowing the cool liquid. The corded veins that ran up his arm, clearly visible with the short-sleeved shirt he wore, pulsated as the plastic of the bottle cracked and popped from the pressure his mouth demanded.

Molly’s heart thumped in her ears and suddenly her mouth felt like the Sahara. The Alicia Keys’ tune faded away until all she could hear was her own body’s reaction to this man. The same reaction she’d had for the last twenty years to him.

Turn around, be the coward you are. Just go the other way, he will never know.

“Well, good morning Ms. Jenson. Beautiful morning for a walk, isn’t it?” His velvet-like voice rolled over her, making Molly feel the need to pant for just a moment.

Just be polite like you’ve done almost every day since he moved back to town permanently three years ago.

“Molly?” Hunter’s confusion was evident.

Pulling the earbuds from her ears, she smiled and said, “Oh sorry, did you say something.”

He smiled again, this time showing off that faint dimple before repeating himself.

“Just said it was a beautiful morning for a walk. I should know; I’ve been up and out of the house since five this morning.”

That had Molly scrunching her nose in disgust. In her opinion, getting up at six was bad enough; anything before that was just downright wrong.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to make faces on the off chance your face would freeze?”

Molly laughed. “I don’t quite think that is how the old saying goes, but you just keep thinking that.”

They had stood in silence before Molly commented, “New bench, I see.”

Hunter looked down toward the freshly polished granite with its engraved black lettering and stated, “Yeah, guess the real estate around here is coming to a close. I can’t see them being able to add many more.”

Molly looked at the shiny polished bench. The sun’s shine reflected upon its flat surface, causing the flecks of minerals within to sparkle like little bits of glitter in the morning glow.

“I enjoy reading them when I walk. Makes you have a little more faith in the love of people. Some are sad, but some are sweet. Makes my time walking here more enjoyable and adds to the beauty of all the landscaping. It makes me one happy walker.”

Still babbling like you did when you were a teenager.

“Well, good doctor, it is always nice to see you, but I really must be going.”

“Yeah, me, too. I need to head home and shower before heading to the hospital.”

Hunter. In a shower. All that gorgeous glistening skin.
She wondered if he would sparkle like the polished granite.
Yeah, like those images will be easy to shake.

Yet neither one of them moved.

“Was everything all right this morning? I couldn’t help but see you almost collide with Ms. Chamberlain. You do know if you had dented her treasured hunk of junk that she would have gotten out and whacked you with her cane.”

The completely honest description of the eldest resident of Clearwater Falls had Molly smiling and nodding in agreement.

When she smiled, so did Hunter and Molly thought her heart skipped at least three beats. It was so rare for the two of them to be alone. However, occasionally the moments did occur, and she just hoped he didn’t perceive her as awkward as she felt she was. When she was alone with him, her mind went to the thoughts she so desperately tried to limit. It was one thing to have the fleeting thoughts when she would pass him. But to stand here in his presence, alone, as if the rest of the world just melted away allowed her mind to open the vault she kept shut.

The vault that was currently wide open.

He had changed over the years. His face was no longer laced with youth but nor did he look old. He still looked immensely handsome. On the occasions when she saw him at the hospital, in the doctor’s office he helped at or coming to the restaurant between shifts, he was always clean-shaven and impeccably put together in a suit. But when she saw him around town, when he was doing what seemed to be his favorite hobby of landscaping rather in his doctor mode, he looked different. Rugged. Sexy. He rocked a pair of well-worn jeans better than those expensive suits of his, in her opinion. She figured it was because, in his more casual appearance, he reminded her of the boy she knew.

Molly felt her cheeks redden, and her body responded to memories which were enhanced by daydreamed moments fast-forwarded to the present. Add in the smile which was mere inches away and she knew she was likely to receive a psychiatric referral from him.

“Molly? Hey, are you all right?” he now asked with increased concern in his tone.

Literally shaking the images from her vision, her eyes widened in response to his tone, and she embarrassedly asked, “I just don’t know why my mind is jumping all over the place today. I’m sorry, what did you say?”

With his smile less wide than its usual friendly and constant nature, he repeated himself, “I asked what the specials down at the restaurant were today. I’m getting tired of hospital food.”

“Oh, uh, well, we have a Caesar chicken wrap with sweet potato fries or Greg’s colossal mushroom and Swiss burger.”

But I’d be happy to put myself on the menu for you.

“Quite tempting. But I’m a sucker for a good ol’ burger.”

I really would love to tempt you.

“You always were, as long as it is cooked until it is black and bearing no taste,” Molly added without meaning to bring the fact she memorized everything about how and what he orders.

“Some things never change I guess. Why mess with perfection,” he responded back jovially.

“You do know change can be good, right. Try living by the seat of your pants and enjoy something new. You never know, you might just like it!” she replied, happily thinking that his burger order needed a reboot for the sake of flavor anyways.

She watched as his face changed. Her words settled over him as if they had struck an underlying chord with him. “Yeah, well, some of us stay true to the way we have always been,” he countered harshly.

The change in direction of the conversation took Molly aback.

“It is time for me to get going. Have a good day, Molly,” he stated before turning away, grabbing his bag of things, and heading off toward his Jeep.

Molly watched as he pulled out of the parking lot feeling confused.

And, as usual, you apparently seem to somehow make the situation awkward, Mol. Talk about making a man run from you.

She headed toward her own car, replaying the conversation over and wondering what she’d said that could have upset him like that. But when she sat behind the steering wheel unmoved for a few minutes, she finally let out the breath she had been holding and realized this was just another example of how badly she could twist a situation where that particular man was concerned.

Stick to your dreams, Molly. That seems to be the only place that you and Hunter are ever on even ground.

Molly pulled out of the parking spot, heading back to her home and restaurant. She tried to rid her mind of the arousal that Hunter Dennison could invoke so easily, not to mention how she had an uncanny ability to constantly send him heading for the hills.

Hunter drove battling with himself internally over his inability to keep himself in check with Molly back at the park.

Maybe some wounds just never go away.

Ever since he moved back three years ago to the town he grew up in, he has a daily battle with himself over Molly Sowards.

Molly Jenson, you idiot. She, unlike you, had no problem living a life not filled with an inability to let go of events of the past.

He would never admit it to anyone, but the whole decision of him moving back here from Boston to make a life hinged on whether he thought he could handle seeing Molly on a daily basis.

There were a lot of days he didn’t think he would be strong enough to push past the pain that he still carried with him even all these years later, but the fact that he would be close to his family again won out even if a piece of his sanity became collateral damage.

Regardless of what had occurred all those years ago, he tried to be friendly with her. It was tough to avoid someone completely when you lived in a town of only a few thousand people. Truth was he didn’t want to avoid her; he had just become better with hiding the pain he still felt whenever he looked at her. And look at her was something he did often. And still like a pariah, it seemed more often than not. It didn’t matter in what pretense he saw her, her beauty was still enough to stop him in his tracks. Unlike a lot of women, Molly didn’t flaunt her looks. If anything, she acted as if she didn’t possess the power to lure a man to his knees.

But he had heard firsthand how inaccurate that act was.

As he drove toward his place, he couldn’t help but compare the Molly he was infatuated with all those years ago to the woman she was now.

Her golden blond hair still ran in waves down her always-soft looking shoulders. Her hair had darkened a bit but still reminded him of warm summer days when beams of light would streak through the passing clouds and warm your face like a kiss from heaven. Her green eyes still looked as intense as they did when she was younger—not the type of green common to hazel-eyed people but a bright green. The color reminded him of an emerald ring his mother constantly wore. It had been a gift from his father when his sister was born, symbolizing her birth month. The stone that his father had selected for the setting was wide and clear. It gleamed in bright light yet still had a shine in low light. Just as Molly’s eyes did. There was always emotion in her eyes. Some people wear their emotions on their sleeves—but not Molly—she wore hers in her eyes. Add in the dark brown lashes which lined the all-telling eyes of hers and you had a winning combination to hours of fantasy.

And sure as shit that was one combination Hunter was quite familiar with. He was a slave to it when he was younger, even after the bubble had burst and his hopes were dashed out quicker than one of the roaring bonfires that occurred up in the pit. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, those same fantasies still haunted him today, making him even more of a captive when it came to her—those fantasies only becoming more vivid as his daily life went on here in Clearwater Falls.