her slender shoulders in a slight shrug. “I don’t know…”
“You’re going to need some things.” Like a lock for her bedroom door, in order for him to maintain his sanity. He cleared his throat and offered, “Do you want me to swing by your house and get your mother to pack you a bag?”
She shook her head. “No. Then everyone will know where I am.”
He gestured toward the phone just as the persistent ringing finally stopped. “You don’t think they already know?”
Despite the sudden silence Molly continued to stare at the phone—as if waiting for it to ring again. “I’m sorry, Eric,” she said, her voice heavy with regret. “I’m so sorry that I’m dumping all my troubles on you.”
“Quit apologizing, Molly.”
She smiled. “You hate contrition. And gratitude. And pity. Is there anything you don’t hate, Eric?”
Her. He could never hate her, not even when she’d been about to marry another man. And he’d tried. “I’m a miserable old grump. Are you sure you want to stay here?”
She nodded. “I don’t have anyplace else to go.”
“Oh, Molly, that’s not true. Your family loves you and will always support you.” Her family had struggled for quite a while to deal with her father’s death eight years ago, but they’d recovered and were stronger than ever. Because they’d been there for each other. Just as his uncle had been there for him.
He added, “And you have so many friends.”
She pressed her palms over her eyes. “I can’t face them. I let them all down—I let everyone down.”
“Molly, that’s not true.”
“Don’t,” she said, her voice as hard as her gaze when she shifted her hands away from her face. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve never lied to me.”
Never to her. Only about her, to himself. “Then believe what I’m telling you. No one is angry with you.” Except maybe Brenna, who had worked hard on the wedding since Molly had been too busy with medical school. “They’re only worried about you. They want to be certain that you’re all right.”
On cue, the phone began to ring again.
Molly closed her eyes as if trying to retreat inside herself, to hide.
He sighed. “Maybe if I tell them you’re here and you’re okay, they’ll stop calling.”
“I don’t know, Eric,” she said, her voice quavering with uncertainty. “I don’t know that I’m okay. But I don’t want you to lie for me, either.”
“What do you want from me?” he asked, his breath burning his lungs as he held it—waiting for her answer.
She lifted her gaze to him. “Probably too much…”
His heart rate quickened. “What do you mean?”
She gestured toward the cordless phone, vibrating with each ring on the countertop. “I shouldn’t put you in this position, of having to hide me. They’re going to keep bugging you.”
“I can unplug it,” he offered. But he’d do more. He’d always done whatever she asked of him—except once.
“No. They’ll give up.” Still the ringing persisted. “Eventually.” Her lips lifted in a stiff smile.
“Since you don’t want me to turn off the phone, what can I do for you?” Could he hold her hand? Kiss her?
“I have a suitcase in the trunk of my car, with enough things packed for two weeks.”
Two weeks. “Your clothes for your honeymoon?” He bit his tongue to hold back a groan as he imagined a sexy assortment of lingerie and bikinis.
She chuckled. “Yes. Looks like I’m going to be spending my honeymoon with you.”
That dream—of a honeymoon with Molly McClintock—had fueled his adolescent fantasies and kept him alive during his years in the Marines.
Now he realized why people always warned you to be careful what you wished for. That fantasy of spending a honeymoon with Molly was going to be a dismal reality, since she’d be crying on his shoulder over another man.
Chapter Two
A honeymoon. The thought of spending one with her fiancé had scared Molly as much as the marriage itself. She hadn’t shared anything more than a few chaste kisses with Dr. Joshua Towers. Despite his good looks, he hadn’t inspired any desire in her—no quickening of her pulse, no rush of heat. But the mention of a honeymoon with Eric instantly shortened her breath. She pushed her trembling hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt.
“You’re shaking,” Eric said.
She wasn’t surprised that he noticed. Nothing ever escaped his attention. Apparently he’d known she was making a mistake before she had.
Unwilling to admit to another weakness, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “It’s on vibrate.”
“You should shut it off,” he advised.
She nodded. “You’re right.” Of course. He was always right. But she’d already shut off the phone. Now if only she could shut off her tumultuous emotions—guilt being the predominant one. “I wish you had told me.”
“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing with confusion.
“I wish you’d told me that I was making a mistake,” she clarified.
“No one else told you?”
Her head still pounding from Abby’s lecture the night before at her bachelorette/slumber party at her mom’s, she admitted, “Abby might have said a thing or ten about my rushing into this marriage.”
His gray eyes brightening with humor, he asked, “So did you listen?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Without a wedding band on her finger; without having committed herself to a man she didn’t love.
“So Abby talked you out of marrying this guy?”
She shook her head. “No.” She’d come to her senses on her own. She only wished she had done it sooner. For example, before she’d accepted Josh’s proposal.
“Then how could I have talked you out of it?” Eric asked.
“I would have listened to you.”
“But would you have heard me?” His mouth slid into that endearing lopsided grin. “Come on, Molly. I’ve known you a long time. I know you have to make up your own mind.”
Have to. But could she? She already knew she wasn’t getting married, but that was all she’d figured out about her life—about her future. She shrugged off the tension tightening the muscles in her neck and shoulders. She had time—at
