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“I’m tired. That’s all.” No way was she going to tell her mother or her friend about the pregnancy test, not until she’d seen a doctor. Those tests could be wrong, couldn’t they?
After two months? the little voice whispered. What, did you fail Health class?
Her mother pursed her lips. “Well, if you ask me, you haven’t been taking proper care of yourself since you and Doug had that…pause in your relationship.”
Molly opened the back door, let Rocky into the fenced yard, then turned around to face her mother. Jayne busied herself making coffee, staying out of the familiar mother-daughter argument. “Mom, it wasn’t a pause. We’re divorced.”
Cynthia shook her head. “I still think you can—”
“No. We can’t.”
Her mother’s lips pursed even more, but she didn’t say anything.
Molly let out a sigh, but didn’t pursue the argument. In Cynthia’s eyes, Douglas Wyndham could do no wrong. She’d seen him as the perfect son-in-law, the doctor who was “going places.”
The only problem? The places he wanted to go, and the places Molly wanted to go were on two polar sides of the life spectrum. And now—
Well, she wasn’t going to think about it, she resolved yet again. She didn’t know for sure if those pink lines were even right. She’d call the doctor and try to get an appointment for right after her meeting. Then she’d know for sure.
Know what, though? That she had possibly made the biggest mistake of her life that night? She, Molly Hunter, the woman who lived life so straight and narrow she might as well be a ruler?
“Molly, I still think—”
“Can I get you some coffee, Mrs. Hunter?” Jayne asked. Molly flashed her friend a relieved smile for the subject-change.
Rocky scratched at the screen door, so Molly let him in, fished his favorite chew toy out from under the refrigerator, and gave him one last pat. She grabbed her purse from the hall table, and dug inside for her sunglasses. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to stay and chat, Mom. I wanted to get to the meeting early.”
“At least Rocky here is glad to see me.” Her mother bent down and patted Rocky on the head. His tail beat a steady pattern against her leg.
Molly headed for the front door, opened it, and waited for her mother to follow. “I’ll call you after the meeting. Promise.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Molly glanced down at the tote bag, then back at Rocky, who was happily gnawing on his rubber bone. “Uh, I don’t think so.”
“Your keys?” Cynthia pointed at the hall table. “Goodness, Molly, you are forgetful today.” She reached out, put a palm on Molly’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
“I’m fine.” Except for this little baby thing. Possibly.
“You look a little peaked.”
“Mom, no one says peaked anymore,” Molly said, dashing over to grab her keys before returning to the door. “And I’m just fine. Really.”
“Jayne,” Cynthia said, turning to the other woman as she entered the foyer. “Don’t you think Molly looks peaked?”
Jayne sent Molly a smile that said she understood meddlesome mothers. “If she’s pale, Mrs. Hunter, I’m sure it’s just because she’s been too busy to get outside and putter around in her garden.”
Molly mouthed a silent thank you Jayne’s way.
A twinge of guilt ran through Molly. She hadn’t told Jayne—or any of her friends who had been with her that weekend in Vegas—about what had happened that night. It had been so out of character, such an insane decision, and Molly just couldn’t seem to find the words to explain her irrational choice. At twenty-eight, she should know better, for Pete’s sake, than to let her hormones do the thinking for her. But that night…
That night she hadn’t done much thinking at all.
She thought of the two pink lines and realized if they were right, she was going to have to find some words pretty soon.
Cynthia gave a dubious shrug. “If you say so.”
Jayne pressed a shiny silver travel mug into Molly’s hands. “Here. This’ll get you through the morning.”
Molly grinned. “Thanks.” She accepted the coffee, not telling Jayne she wasn’t sure she should be having all that caffeine.
“Hey, making coffee is the least I can do for you putting up with me all this time.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Molly smiled. “You’re a great roommate, Jayne. I love having you here.” And she had. Ever since Jayne Cavendish had moved in two months ago, every day had been fun. She hadn’t minded one bit having one of her best friends to fill the empty spaces in the tiny bungalow, and she suspected Jayne, who was still nursing a broken heart, was happy for the company, too.
Molly’s heart went out to Jayne. She understood what it was like to see your dreams for happily-ever-after dashed. It was partly why Molly had thought going to Vegas that weekend with Jayne, Alex and Serena would be just the right medicine to help Jayne forget her fiancé’s betrayal. The four of them had intended to have one crazy, fun, girls-only weekend filled with lots of laughs and incredible memories.
They’d gotten more than they bargained for, that was for sure. Alex had ended up staying in Vegas to run Wyatt McKendrick’s hotel—and ended up falling in love with the handsome hotelier. Serena, who had impetuously married Jonas Benjamin on that wild weekend, had also stayed in Vegas and so far had stayed married, though she hadn’t said much about life with her politician husband. Molly missed her friends desperately, and except for one weekend when Wyatt had brought all the friends together for a quick lunch and shopping visit, they’d had to keep in virtual touch via texts, online chats and phone calls.
Jayne gave Molly a quick hug, wished her luck at her meeting, then told her she was heading inside. “I have to get ready for work. Maybe we’ll get pizza tonight and rent a couple movies.”
“Sounds great.” Except for the pizza part, which had Molly’s stomach rebelling yet again. After Jayne left, Molly opened the front door and gestured for her mother to leave first. But Cynthia held her ground. “Mom, I have to get to that meeting.”
Her mother smiled, the kind of smile that told Molly a conversation was coming she didn’t want to hear. “If you want, I could call Douglas…?”
“You don’t have to call Doug.”
“Molly, really, I think you’re being awfully hard on him. Can’t you two work it out?”
Work out what? She and Doug had been divorced for over two years now, and still her mother thought resurrecting her failed marriage was as simple as picking up the phone and arranging a dinner date. She didn’t seem to understand the arguments that had driven a wedge between Doug and her, the differences in everything from the way they viewed the world to the future they envisioned together.
She’d been so naïve when she’d married Doug. She was swept off her feet by his charm, the way he took care of every little detail, making her busy life suddenly seem easy. At first, it was simple to fall into Doug’s regimented world, to let him make the decisions. Then, too late, she’d realized that he had no intentions of relaxing the rigid rules by which he lived. The man who had seemed so organized and under control she now saw as unyielding and closed off to the full life of children. The life that she wanted.
If she ever got married again—and that if was so big it topped Mt. Everest—she’d give the event weeks, maybe months of careful thought. No rushing in, no thinking with her hormones instead of her brains.
She’d be smart. Not infatuated. Ever again.
“Doug is miserable, you know,” her mother added, then she sighed. “I just want you to be happy, like your father and I were.” Her mother’s eyes misted at the mention of Molly’s late father.
“I am happy, Mom.”
“Being alone?” Cynthia shook her head. “How?”
Molly realized then that her mother’s concern stemmed more from her own difficulties dealing with the loss of her husband eighteen months ago than worry about the demise of Molly’s marriage. “You get involved, Mom. Join that bridge club you’ve been talking about. Go to the book club at the library.”
Cynthia looked away.
“Mom…”
“They’re reading Wuthering Heights this month,” she said softly.
“You love Brontë.”
Cynthia turned back to her daughter. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” she said instead, retreating to the safety of playing mother hen. “If you want, I can stay.”
Molly’s stomach was rebelling, and the mere thought of making the six-mile drive to work had her wishing she could turn right around and head back to bed, but she refused to tell her mother that. “Go to the book club meeting, Mom. I’m fine. I’ll call you later.” She pressed a kiss to her mother’s cheek, inhaling her familiar scent. “I promise.”
Then she got in the car, and left, before her mother could finish the sentence she was beginning to sputter. Molly sent Cynthia a wave, then headed down the driveway and off to work.
Only eight-fifteen. At least an hour and a half until her meeting with the administration was over and she could get into Dr. Carter’s office. The day had barely begun and already, she could swear it had lasted a year.
“I know what I want, and that isn’t it.” Lincoln Curtis slid the portfolio across the polished mahogany table to the team of architects sitting on the other side like ducks in a row. The three men had on nearly identical navy blue suits and red ties of varying patterns, as if dressing in unison was a requirement for working at King Architecture.
That had to explain why Lincoln hated the design. Uninspired in attire, uninspired in thinking.
“Sir, we can draw a new—”
“I’m done. You’re done.” Lincoln rose. “Thank you for your time.” He headed out of the conference room, trailed by Conner Paulson, the CFO for Curtis Systems, the security software company Lincoln and his brother had started twelve years ago in the basement of their parents’ home. In one year, the two Curtis brothers had taken Curtis Systems from an idea to a company servicing Fortune 500 firms. Five years later, they were turning down multi-million-dollar buyout offers from international software giants. Lincoln, the elder, had been the CEO, while Marcus, two years younger, had been the vice president.
Now he had the company he’d always dreamed of, one that was even bigger than he’d dreamed. Perfect in every respect—
Except for the empty office beside his own. The one that mocked the very success Linc had worked so hard to build. But now he knew nothing else, and had nothing else. So the company got all of Lincoln Curtis, and then some.
“The architects gave you exactly what you said you wanted,” Conner said, falling into stride beside Lincoln as they headed down the wide hallway toward Lincoln’s office. “What’s changed since you met with them last quarter and now?”
“Nothing.”
Conner snorted. “Are you kidding me? Everything’s different about you lately.”
Lincoln stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to stick to the same song you’ve been giving me for the last two months. That nothing’s on your mind. That you’re just fine.” Conner mocked talking with his hand. “This is me, Linc. I’ve known you since first grade. And you are so far from fine you’re on another planet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Conner sighed. “Listen, I wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t your best friend, and hadn’t known you forever. But for years you’ve been…”
“What?” Lincoln prodded.
“Well, you took your brother’s death pretty hard. We all did,” Conner added. “But you especially. And I don’t blame you. If I’d been there—”
“Do we need to have this conversation?”
Conner opened his mouth, shut it again. “No.”
“Good.”
“All I’m saying is that for a long time you’ve been a robot. Getting the job done, working like a maniac. Except for that one vacation—”
“I thought we weren’t having this conversation.”
“Then after that…” Conner paused, his gaze softening in sympathy. “Afterwards, you went back to being the same old Linc. No one could blame you, really, but—”
“Drop it,” Linc said, his voice a warning. Conner was his best friend, but even with him Linc didn’t journey back to that day three years ago.
Conner let out a gust that voiced concession to the change of topic. “Lately…I don’t know, you just seem to have a new attitude. A good one, I might add. Like with the idea you proposed a couple months ago about that software for kids—”
“An idea that you and the other suits shot down if I remember right,” Linc pointed out. “And you were right. I shouldn’t be running off, pursuing crazy ideas that could just end up draining company resources instead of adding to the coffers.”
For a moment, he’d thought maybe—
Maybe he could bring back something he’d lost by digging up a bit of the past. So he’d floated the idea, then come to his senses when the number crunchers smacked it down.
“Hey, maybe someday that program can work, Linc, sure, but honestly, I don’t see you finding the time for anything more. Don’t you agree?” Conner laid a hand on his arm. “You’re the most tightly scheduled guy I know. Not to mention…”
“What?” Linc asked when Conner didn’t finish.
“As much as I think it would be terrific for you to step out of your comfort zone of memos, day planners and task lists, I’m just not sure launching a kid-oriented product like that is up your particular alley.”
“Because I’m not fun,” Linc replied, reading the words Conner wasn’t speaking.
“Let’s just say when I’m looking for a partner in crime for hosting a wild party, your name isn’t at the top of my list.” Conner grinned. “But I’d still send you an invitation.”
Linc let out a short laugh. If only Conner knew how far Linc had stepped out of his world of schedules and memos that night two months ago.
In his mind, he saw the image of Molly—Linc didn’t know her last name, by agreement with both of them—smiling up at him as she lay back on the pale cream-colored sheets of the Bellagio’s luxurious king-sized bed. Her dark brown hair tumbling around her shoulders, her green eyes wide and sparkling, her lithe body still tempting even after he’d spent so many exquisite moments exploring, tasting and enjoying every inch.
For one night, Linc had been someone other than himself.
“What made you propose the idea in the first place?” Conner asked. “It just came out of the blue.”
They had reached the glass corridor that connected the twin towers of Curtis Systems, and provided a stunning view of downtown Vegas. On either side of him, the city flashed a constant rainbowed heartbeat of activity. “It’s something I’ve been kicking around for years.”
A lie. But telling the truth meant opening wounds Linc preferred not to open.
Two months ago he’d looked at the date and realized it was his brother’s birthday. If he had lived, Marcus would have been twenty-six this year.
And Linc hadn’t moved one inch closer in all those years to finishing the software program that had been the genesis of everything for Curtis Systems. The first dream he and his brother had shared.
He’d sat in his empty apartment for hours, revisiting past mistakes and regrets. And then, finally, spurred by nostalgia, regrets or maybe something more, he’d gone out, headed to one of the bars in Vegas—
And ended up sleeping with a woman he barely knew.
“There’s something else, though,” Conner said. “Something you’re not telling me.”
Linc met his friend’s inquisitive stare. “I met someone.”
A flicker of surprise flashed across Conner’s face. “Great. You’ve been alone too long. So who is she? And why didn’t you bring her to the benefit dinner last week?” Conner flashed him a grin. “You hiding her in your apartment?”
