two weeks ago.
As she looked around at her sister’s apartment—which she’d been thinking of as her temporary duty station until she could figure out what she was going to do with her life—Molly felt as though she’d just overshot her landing and had to circle around and try it again. Exhausted, both emotionally and physically, she was halfway curled into a ball on the oversize white sofa in the living room, watching her nephew and Kaleb put away groceries she didn’t remember selecting. What in the world was she going to do with all those cans of soup?
More important, what was she going to do with this guy who now knew her secret? She shuddered. Even thinking the word secret made her feel all dirty and cowardly, like she was hunkering down in some barren cave rather than Maxine’s plush renovated apartment in the heart of quaint, touristy Sugar Falls.
Kaleb’s face was so handsome the glasses almost looked fake. A few weeks ago, when she’d first experienced problems with dizziness, Molly had been looking at all the advertisement posters above the display cases at the ophthalmologist’s office while she waited for her vision tests to come back. This guy resembled the sexy models in the pictures, trying to convince the middle-aged patients with cataracts and receding hairlines that they, too, would look like some gorgeous stud if only they invested in the right spectacles.
His brown hair was a bit too long and too messy. His jeans were a bit too new and too expensive, despite the fact that they certainly fit his slim hips well. And when he’d stripped off his hooded sweatshirt and she’d seen him in his shirt, Molly let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. His dark blue T-shirt appeared to be made for him, the fabric so soft and well-worn she could see the ridges of his lean muscles under it.
All in all, he didn’t look like the owner of a multi-billion-dollar technology empire. Which was probably why she was so surprised to find out that he was related to her sister’s best friend. Not that the rest of the Chattersons were much different than this one, with the exception of most of them being redheads. And they were only millionaires, as opposed to billionaires.
“Can we order some pizza from Patrelli’s?” Hunter asked after digging around in the shopping bags and only coming up with food that would require a can opener to prepare.
She nodded and would’ve handed him her cell phone, but he’d already pulled out his own. “Get me a large meatball sub,” she said as he started dialing.
“Actually,” Kaleb interjected, “Molly is going to have the chicken Caesar salad. Dressing on the side.”
Hunter gave his idol a thumbs-up before speaking to a person on the other end of the line. Apparently, being a favorite aunt had just been trumped by the guy who invented some stupid video game called “Blockcraft.”
“But I wanted the meatball sub.” Molly crossed her arms across her chest, her voice sounding whinier than she’d intended.
“And do you also want your nephew to have to call 9-1-1 when you go into another one of your blood sugar attacks?” One of Kaleb’s brown eyebrows arched above his glasses.
Molly tried to arch her own brow in response to him, but only succeeded in looking like she had something stuck in her eye. Being tired was one thing, but she was beginning to feel completely useless.
“I’m gonna walk down the block to pick it up,” Hunter said, pulling on a sweatshirt. “I sure like our new house, but sometimes I really miss living in the middle of town like this.”
Kaleb handed the boy two twenty-dollar bills and her nephew was out the door before Molly could even protest. Or ask him not to leave her alone with the hunky tech guy who’d just saved her. Sort of.
“You didn’t have to buy dinner, too. I have money,” she said, looking around for her wallet. Actually, she didn’t know how much longer her military salary would last and she probably shouldn’t be wasting it on pizza—or dry salads, in this case.
“I think all of your cash went to the swear jar,” Kaleb said, his hands loosely tucked into his front pockets. He was probably eager to get away from her. Not that she could blame him. She’d been trying to get away from herself for quite a few weeks, as well.
His watch rang again, or was it his phone? Nope, this time it was his cell. Picking it up from the counter, he said, “I really need to take this.”
“Okay, but if it’s your sister, don’t tell her about...you know...”
“Why not?”
“Because then she’ll tell my sister, remember?”
He rolled his eyes, then swiped his finger across the screen. “Hey, Kylie.”
Molly dragged her tote bag onto her lap and pulled out her black case. She may as well check her glucose levels before Hunter returned. The distraction might also keep her from listening to Kaleb’s smooth, deep voice.
As she pricked her finger and pressed out a droplet of blood, she heard him make several noncommittal sounds to whatever his sister was saying on the other end.
“Mmm-hmm.” He walked around the coffee table to stand beside her, the waistband of his jeans right in her line of vision. Lately, in the guy department, Molly thought she’d been working on autopilot. However, a shot of electricity zipped through her, activating the dormant wiring circuits in her lower extremities.
“Uh-huh.” He leaned over to see the digital reading on her compact machine. She tightened her lips, taking in a deep breath through her nose. Whoa. Did all billionaires smell this amazing?
“Is that good?” he whispered to her, his hand over the speaker and his eyes soft with concern. She had to force her own eyes away from his flat abdomen and toward the numbers on the screen in front of her.
She was almost back within normal range, yet still gave him an “okay” sign with her thumb and forefinger. His smile mirrored the relief she should have felt. Or would have felt if her heart hadn’t started hammering at how close he was to her.
“No, Molly’s fine.” His voice snapped her brain out of whatever trance she’d just been in and she began waving her arms in front of her face, inadvertently hitting him in the hip and causing him to glare down at her.
“Don’t say my name,” she whispered.
“Too late,” he mouthed.
“Here, let me talk to her.” She reached for his phone, but her energy hadn’t fully recovered and her crisscrossed legs got tangled when she tried to stand up. He sidestepped her and held his palm out, probably trying to cut her off because he thought he had the conversation under control.
“No, she wasn’t too sloshed to drive,” Kaleb told his sister indignantly.
Molly gave him a nod of encouragement. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”
“Oh, c’mon, Kylie. I’m not going to ask her if she’s pregnant.”
Hmm. Molly tilted her head to the side and tapped a couple of fingers against her lip. As far as red herrings went, it wasn’t ideal. But she could work with it. Maxine knew about the breakup with Trevor and Molly hadn’t exactly corrected her sister when she’d offered up the use of her apartment as a refuge for mending her broken heart. Pregnancy definitely would be a lot simpler to explain, at least for a few months while she
