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 least two weeks—to figure out her next move.
She forced a challenging smile. “Are you calling me stubborn?”
His grin widened. “I didn’t say you were the only one.”
“I’m not. You did something none of us could talk you out of doing.” Enlisting in the Marines.
She fisted her hands as they began to tremble again, old fear echoing in her heart. She had been so terrified she would lose him, just as she had lost her father. But Eric hadn’t backed out—not even for her. And she’d begged him not to go. Their other friends had always teased her that Eric was in love with her, but they’d been wrong. If he had loved her, he wouldn’t have left her when she needed him most. He wouldn’t have put her through the terror of losing someone else important to her. Someone she loved.
She drew in a shuddering breath. “At least I came to my senses before I did something stupid.”
Almost absentmindedly he stroked his knuckles across his scar. His voice hard with pride and his memories, he insisted, “It wasn’t stupid.”
She knew he spoke of the Marines, not her near-miss marriage. “I’m sorry, Eric.”
“What did I say about apologizing?” he reminded her. “Quit it.”
She smiled at his stern tone.
“I’m going to get your suitcase,” he said, heading toward the kitchen door.
Molly ducked back into the shadows of the living room, as if someone driving by might see her. Her smile widened at her overreaction. Since Eric’s cabin was off a winding private road, tucked into trees on the edge of a small lake, she doubted anyone would be driving by. But then his phone rang again. From the persistence of the phone calls, Molly was surprised someone wasn’t already pounding down the door. She’d left the note. Why wouldn’t they give her what she asked for—time alone?
Anger chasing away her guilt, she grabbed the ringing phone and shouted, “Stop calling!”
“Molly McClintock,” a woman’s voice, sharp with disapproval, admonished her. “Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady.”
Molly’s face heating, she grimaced. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”
“It doesn’t matter who’s calling. I’ve taught you better manners than that,” Mary McClintock reprimanded her oldest daughter.
The last thing Molly had expected from her mother, after leaving a groom at the altar, was a lecture on telephone etiquette.
“You did. I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes, hoping Eric hadn’t overheard her apologizing again.
Music could be heard through the receiver, nearly drowning out her mother’s soft sigh.
“Mom, where are you?”
“Your reception, honey,” her mother answered so matter-of-factly.
“My reception?” Molly repeated, totally nonplussed. “But there was no wedding.”
“We couldn’t cancel the party,” her mother explained. “Too many people worked too hard getting ready for it. And the whole town was looking forward to it. We couldn’t disappoint everyone.”
As Molly had. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one to whom you owe an apology.”
She had already talked to Joshua, the night before the wedding. It seemed the superstition about the groom seeing the bride before the ceremony was well founded. Since she’d warned him about her doubts, he couldn’t have been surprised that she’d backed out of marrying him, and he wouldn’t have been disappointed.
She suspected she hadn’t been the only one regretting their hasty engagement. But he had too much honor to retract his proposal