“Go!” Molly leaned over the side of the fence and encouraged the scraggly duck she’d chosen from the pen. “You can do it,” she called. “Dig, dig, dig, dig, dig.”
Sam shot her an amused look and took a sip of his coffee. The brisk October air had tinted her cheeks red, and the breeze played havoc with her hair. She wore faded jeans and a Stamford University sweatshirt. Her thick hair, clasped in a loose ponytail at the nape, made his fingers itch to free it. In bed in his Boston apartment he’d found himself wondering how Molly would look sprawled against dark sheets, her hair mussed and spread across his pillows.
Molly, he was learning, did everything with reckless abandon. If he’d doubted it, the harrowing ride to the fair grounds that morning had confirmed it.
Molly had wanted to drive. Sam decided it would give him a chance to listen to her car on the road and see if he could identify the source and cause of the orange Beetle’s horrific exhaust leak. As soon as she coasted through the first stop sign, he recognized his mistake. Molly drove with the same recklessness she used to argue with him in editorial meetings. As far as he could tell, there was a logic to it somewhere, but it defied description and kept him on the edge of his seat.
He’d forced himself not to cringe as she darted between cars and sneaked through yellow lights. Payne had only four traffic lights, and its citizens, he’d observed, went to extraordinary lengths to avoid them.
Word had to be out that, at any moment, Molly might come storming through an intersection in her dilapidated car. Fortunately they could always see her coming—or at least smell the exhaust. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would insist that he look at her car.
If I live that long, he thought with a grimace as her tires squealed around another curve. To take his mind off the certainty of impending collision, he concentrated on the way her long fingers gripped the steering wheel, and how the smooth curves of her face were partially shielded by her dark sunglasses. Then he asked her about new developments in her research into Cobell’s transportation project. She talked while she drove, darting, as usual, from one idea to the next. He enjoyed the vibrant thrum of her voice.
Occasionally, a hint of an Irish accent would cradle a word with a rolled r. Like a purr. He wondered if he could get her to purr like that by whispering something forbidden in her ear.
He reveled in watching her now as she cheered and encouraged the ducks. Monday night he’d proven that he could make Molly want him. What he wasn’t sure of was whether or not she’d get there on her own, without an added push from him. It had never mattered to him before whether a woman desired him, but with Molly, things were different.
Everything was different.
Maybe it was the pressure of last week, or perhaps the simplicity of life in Payne, Massachusetts, that was having this effect on him. For reasons he couldn’t begin to define, he needed to know that Molly wanted him. Monday, she’d been trapped by her own impulsiveness. She’d taken his offer because her sense of honor had demanded it. He was absolutely certain of that.
But it wasn’t enough. Sam wanted her to look at him, her eyes bright with passion, her lips slightly parted, her fingers trembling and her heart racing. He wanted her to feel the same gut-clenching need he felt as he watched her. Until this morning, he wasn’t certain it could ever happen.
If he’d had any doubts, she’d erased them when she launched into that ludicrous little speech about not letting their relationship go to their heads.
He nearly told her then that she’d been in his head since the day they’d met. He’d been gambling he could get Molly to admit that her frustration with him in editorial meetings had little to do with his direction for the Sentinel, and a lot to do with the tug of physical attraction they’d both been battling. Though he would have preferred to avoid the spectacle she’d caused with that damned ad, it had given him the opening he’d needed to pursue her. He’d had a hell of a time avoiding his sister’s and sister-in-law’s questions this week in Boston, but he’d managed to extricate himself with a minimal hassle.
This morning’s conversation had been eye-opening. Molly, he sensed, was the kind of woman who liked to control her relationships. She chose men who didn’t push her buttons. She found strays, took them in, cleaned them up, and turned them loose without ever suffering even a twinge of remorse.
No wonder he made her so nervous, he thought with a dry grin. His attention was drawn by the sound of Molly’s voice carrying above the cheering crowd. Her duck was losing badly in the opening heat of the day-long event. She should have taken his advice when she’d insisted on picking the scraggiest-looking duck from the pen. He dropped his empty coffee cup in a wastebasket and headed for Molly.
“Run!” she yelled at her duck as she waved her arms toward the finish line. “Run!”
Sam joined her at the fence and slid an arm around her waist. “I think it’s a lost cause.”
She gave him a sharp look. “It’s never a lost cause, Sam.”
He tipped his head toward the field where the ducks were weaving their way across open grass toward a pile of corn which formed a makeshift finish line. Molly’s duck didn’t seem particularly interested in the feed. The duck races, Sam had learned, were conducted at several levels and heats. Local farmers had ducks available for sponsorship for people like Molly who wanted to compete but didn’t have a duck of their own. The big event took place later in the day when competitors who had raised and trained their own ducks competed in a multi-heat event. The rest of the festival tents housed music, concessions and some agricultural interest exhibits which helped disperse the large crowd over the expansive fair grounds. “It’s a scrawny duck,” Sam told Molly. “I told you not to pick a scrawny duck.”
“You don’t always have to be—”
“Molly?” A soft voice attracted Sam’s attention. He glanced over his shoulder to find an auburn-haired woman with two children in tow watching them with avid curiosity. “We’ve been looking for you all morning.”
“Aunt Molly!” The youngest of the two children raced forward and hurled her small body at Molly.
“Hiya, sprout,” Molly said as she scooped up the child. She smiled at the woman. “Colleen. I didn’t expect you guys to come this early.” She nodded her head toward Sam. “This is Sam Reed.”
Colleen gave Sam a probing look. “I guessed.”
“This is my sister, Colleen,” Molly said. She indicated the older child. “This is my niece, Megan, and this—” she hugged the child in her arms closer “—is Kelly.”
“Aunt Molly,” Kelly demanded. “Dad’s gonna get me a baby duck for the kid races.”
Molly looked at Megan who was clinging to her mother’s hand and staring at Sam. “What about you, Megan? Are you going to get a duck, too?”
Megan shook her head. Red curls bounced against her round cheeks. Kelly made a disgusted sound. “Megan’s chicken.”
Megan gave her sister a belligerent look. “Am not.”
“Are, too.”
“Am not!”
“Girls!” Colleen said sharply. “Stop it.”
Kelly patted Molly’s shoulder. “Dad says if you’re gonna get a duck, you gotta pick it up. Megan doesn’t wanna.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m scared,” Megan insisted.
“Enough.” Colleen said with a maternal authority that effectively squelched the budding argument. “If Megan doesn’t want a duck, I can’t say I blame her. Molly’s the only member of this family who’s ever been willing to handle one.” She glanced at Sam. “Sorry to subject you to this. I’m sure you had other plans for the day.”
He shook his head. “I’ve got siblings. I’m used to it.” He extended a hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” She glanced at Molly. “I’m a little surprised.”
“I’ll bet,” Molly drawled. A loud cheer from the crowd signaled the end of the race. Molly looked at the field to discover her duck still lingering by the outside fence. “I lost,” she said unnecessarily.
Kelly leaned forward to look at Molly’s duck. “It’s a skinny duck.”
Sam turned to Molly with smug satisfaction. “See?”
She glared at him. “Cute.”
Colleen was watching the exchange with keen intent. “Er, Molly, are you planning on joining us all for lunch?”
Molly nodded. “Of course. There’s no way I’m going to miss Mama’s chicken salad. She only makes it once a year.”
Kelly looked at Sam. “Is he coming, too?”
“Yes.”
Kelly grinned. “Mama says he’s your boyfriend.”
Colleen blushed. Sam laughed. Molly shook her head. “You should know by now, Colleen, that they will tell me everything.”
“We had a long conversation at dinner last night about the ad.”
“I’m sure you did,” Molly told her.
“They were excited about seeing you today.”
“I’m surprised you’re here this early. You usually come with Mama and Dad in time for lunch.”
“We came early so Todd could arrange for Kelly’s duck,” Colleen explained.
“I’m getting a fat one,” the younger child stated. “Not a skinny one like yours.”
Molly shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with skinny ducks, Kel.”
“’Cept they lose,” Kelly stated bluntly. Sam crossed his arms and leaned one hip against the fence. Molly frowned at him. “Smugness is unbecoming.”
“You just can’t stand it when I’m right.”
She rolled her eyes and looked at Colleen. “So are you staying for the rest of the morning?”
“I don’t think so. It’s hard on the girls.”
Molly lowered Kelly to the ground. “I understand.”
Colleen turned to Sam. “You’re welcome to join us for lunch, Sam.”
“It’ll be a little wild,” Molly assured him. “My niece Katie is turning five this week, so we usually have the family celebration the day of the duck races.”
Colleen added, “We’d love to have you. Everyone’s eager to meet you.”
He could well imagine. “I’m planning on it,” Sam assured Colleen. Molly’s audible groan gave him undue satisfaction.
TWO HOURS LATER, Sam and Molly crested a small hill and stepped straight into what had once been Sam’s personal idea of paradise. Before he lived with Edward Reed’s family, his mother had moved from one place to the next, living off credit, charity, and cunning. The large, wealthy Reed family had provided Sam with a sense of stability, but he’d never enjoyed the unconditional support and love of family except from his two half siblings and, to his continued surprise, from his stepmother.
Never feeling he completely belonged to the world of the Reeds, Sam had turned inward, developing a strong sense of self and independence. The only birthday party he’d ever had was the one he’d thrown for himself when he was six years old. Three alley cats and a stray dog had come to share a honey bun he’d swiped from the corner market. Though the Reeds had taken him in and treated him well, they’d never been big on celebrations. That was why, he’d reasoned long ago, his half sister loved planning weddings. They gave her something to anticipate.
And after what he’d gone through this past week, he thought bitterly as he surveyed the scene before him. The stark reality of the difference between his life and Molly’s made him feel as if he’d been hit head-on by a freight train.
In his childhood dreams, birthdays had looked like this. Green and orange crepe paper colorfully wrapped the trunks of the large oaks near the expanse of lawn where the Flynns had gathered for lunch. The lawn was dotted with blankets and baskets where other families had climbed the rise to take a break from the crowds and the noise of the festival during the height of the day. Someone had tied helium balloons in clusters to several low-lying shrubs. The sounds of childish laughter carried above the low rumble of the crowd noise.
Sam hadn’t understood until recently why Taylor’s plans for his own birthday next week were making him feel so squeamish, but looking over the festive scene of Molly’s family made his stomach clench and his mood sour. Molly had made it clear that morning that she expected an explanation for his whereabouts last week. She deserved one.
And having seen this, he wondered how in the hell he was supposed to tell her when he knew his answers would shock, and probably disgust her.
Deliberately, he shoved aside the grim thoughts and forced himself to concentrate on the moment at hand.
After meeting Colleen, Molly and Sam had spent the morning circulating among the burgeoning crowds at the duck races. Sam had taken his share of good-natured ribbing over Molly’s personal ad, and she handled the jibes and soft barbs with effortless grace. The only tense moment had come when they’d encountered Fred Cobell and his wife near the VIP tent. Cobell had given Sam a bitter look and said, “So, Reed, decided to see how the rest of us live?”
Sam slung a casual arm across Molly’s shoulder. “Molly is showing me around.”
Cobell’s gaze shifted to Molly. “I’ve got a friend at the county clerk’s office. She says you were asking some questions over there yesterday.”
Molly nodded. “Just doing my job, Mayor. The Sentinel is going to cover the transportation hub development as comprehensively as we can.”
“It’s big news,” Sam added.
Cobell’s eyes had narrowed. “It’s the best thing to happen to this town in a long time. The economic benefits are enormous.”
“That’s why the Sentinel is covering it,” Sam said, non-committal.
The mayor crossed his arms over his ample chest and looked down his narrow nose at Molly. “Don’t go looking for trouble, Molly,” he said, his warning clear.
Molly raised an eyebrow. “Do you think there’s trouble to be found?”
The mayor ignored her question. He gave Sam a knowing smirk. “You know, Reed, if you were this determined to learn what small-town life is like, you could have asked me. I’m sure we could have arranged something more, er, accommodating for you.”
Though he could have been talking about Sam’s attendance at the duck races, his badly veiled reference to Molly was unmistakable. Sam had to squelch a biting retort. Instead, he gave Cobell a glacial look and replied, “I like to make my own choices. It’s more gratifying.”
Cobell’s wife was pulling on his arm, urging him toward the VIP tent. He gave Sam a final glance and muttered, “Carl told me you’re committed to bringing some changes to the Sentinel, Reed. I’m counting on that.”
As Cobell followed his wife through the entrance of the VIP tent, Molly gave Sam a speculative look. “I don’t like him,” she said. “I’ve never liked him.”
“Me neither,” Sam told her. “But right now, he’s useful. Investigating this story is going to get a lot tougher if he quits giving us access to information.”
Molly nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true enough,” she concurred. “But don’t you think that association with me is going to make him suspicious? You didn’t miss his innuendo, did you?”
“You mean the part about experiencing small-town life with you being messy?”
“Unaccommodating,” she said. “Not messy. I’m sure Fred Cobell thinks you’re an idiot for putting up with me.”
“Yeah. I caught that.”
“He meant it as a threat, you know. He’s not going to trust you as much as he did before. He’s resented me since his first election bid.”
“It may shock you to hear this, Molly, but Fred Cobell doesn’t even register on my radar screen when I make decisions. I’ve got other priorities.”
That had effectively closed the subject. It had taken Sam a while to shake his lingering bad mood, but Molly had goaded him out of it by introducing him to the town’s blue ribbon winners in the festival’s culinary tent. Sam had tasted enough assorted pies and confections to put him on a sugar high. Molly laughed at him when he’d told her that, indicating her plan had been to dull his senses with chocolate and sweets before she exposed him to her family.
Now, as they crested the rise, Sam took in the festive scene with trepidation. On their way up the hill, Molly had explained that her father was part owner of the large cranberry farm that bordered the fairgrounds. Most of the families and their employees in the ownership group used the hill’s vantage point to pull away from the large crowd and the fairgrounds during the noon hour. Molly’s entire family—all four sisters, their husbands, their kids, and her parents—would be present for the birthday gathering.
The thought made Sam nervous.
Molly’s chief concern about his proposition earlier in the week had been breaking the news to her family. She was close to them, he knew, and she wouldn’t be comfortable deceiving them. As far as Sam was concerned, the only duplicity about their relationship was the insinuation that Molly’s ad had been a simple lover’s quarrel. But Molly, he knew, was struggling with both her pride and her inherent openness. For weeks she’d been expressing her frustrations with him to her family and friends. She’d have to swallow her pride now and let them believe that she’d been involved with him.
Sam was anxious to see how she handled it.
“Sam?” Molly laid a hand on his sleeve.
“Hmm?”
Her head tipped in the direction of a large maple tree where blankets were spread with a mind-boggling quantity of food. “Incoming maternal unit. You’re on.”
“What?”
“My mother,” she clarified. Sam glanced at the tree. A plump woman, gray-haired and pleasant-faced, bustled toward them. Clad in a simple blue dress and wiping her hands on a dish towel, she had a warm smile and her daughter’s intelligent gaze.
“Molly.” She dried her hands as she hurried toward them. “You are late.” The smile in her eyes undermined the severity of the rebuke. “Working too hard again, no doubt. What is there to learn at the duck races that you don’t already know?”
With a warm laugh, Molly embraced her mother. “It’s different every year, Mom. And you know it. Stop nagging.”
“Katie was worried you wouldn’t come.”
“Katie knows better,” she told her. Her mother released her and looked at Sam. “This is the reason you’re late?” she asked.
Sam grinned at her. “Guilty. This is my first duck races festival. Molly was showing me around.” He extended his hand. “I’m Sam Reed.”
Molly’s mother took his hand in both of hers. “I’m Fiona Flynn.”
Sam glanced at Molly as he squeezed Fiona’s hand. She was worrying her lower lip with her teeth. He tossed his arm around her shoulders. “Thanks for letting me come this afternoon, Fiona. I know it’s a family affair.”
“Hah—the boys will be glad to have you.” Fiona’s eyes sparkled like her daughter’s. “My husband and my daughters’ husbands always complain about the ratio.” She dropped his hand and beamed at Molly. “Besides, after Monday’s paper, everyone’s been dying to meet him.” She clucked her tongue. “You’ve been avoiding phone calls.”
“Mom, it’s not—”
Fiona shook her head. “Never mind. I’m just glad you’re here.” She looped her arm through Sam’s. “My girls tell me you’ve been in Payne several weeks. Is that so?”
He felt Molly’s shoulders tense, so he gave her a slight squeeze before he dropped his arm. This was going better than he’d hoped. Colleen had been warm and accepting that morning, and now he seemed to have won over Fiona. The rest of the family couldn’t be far behind. “I guess it has been a while,” he said. “I haven’t been counting.” He slanted Molly a warm look. “I’ve had other things on my mind.”
Fiona chuckled. “I suppose you have.”
“Molly has a way of distracting me,” he admitted.
Molly muttered something beneath her breath. If she could get away with it, he was guessing, she’d like to kick him in the shin. As far as he was concerned, however, the price she was paying for that personal ad was nothing compared to the intense grilling he’d taken from his family yesterday.
“Aunt Molly!”
A green-and-orange bundle of energy came racing across the lawn and hurled herself into Molly’s arms. With a warm laugh, she picked the child up and spun her around. “Katie-Did. How does it feel to be five?”
“Better’n four,” Katie assured her. Clad in a green sweater and orange jeans, her little body crackled with animation. Her pale hair lay in two neat braids, each threaded with multicolored ribbons. She wore a blue beaded necklace. Purple high-top sneakers completed the outrageous ensemble.
Molly dropped a kiss to her forehead before she set her down. “No kidding?”
Katie held fast to Molly’s hand. “Yeah. I got a tractor.”
Molly laughed. “A tractor? Isn’t that a little big for you?”
“It’s a little tractor.” Katie gave Sam a curious look.
“Oh, I see,” Molly assured her.
From behind the house, a woman who looked like an older, pregnant version of Molly made her way toward them. She was extremely pregnant, he noted, unsure why the sudden realization bothered him. He compared the emerging dynamics here with his last family gathering, Ben and Amy’s wedding reception. His sister, who had planned countless weddings—including the five of her own she’d called off—had insisted on having the reception at the yacht club. The only people who’d felt more out of place than Sam were Amy and her parents.
Eileen picked her way slowly across the yard. One hand rested on her swollen belly, the other shaded her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. “Molly, hi.”
“Hey, Eileen. This munchkin tells me she’s got a tractor. Isn’t Hutch being a little ambitious?”
When Eileen laughed, the sound had a weightless quality that drew Sam’s attention. It was the same unfettered laugh as Molly’s. This, he imagined, must be the benefit of a healthy family. Eileen brushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear as she glanced at Katie. “It’s one of those pedal things,” she said in answer to Molly’s question. “She’s so fascinated with Dad’s riding mower that Hutch thought she’d like it.”
“It’s green, like Grandpa’s,” Katie announced.
“Your favorite color,” Molly said. “How did your dad know you wanted green?”
“’Cause I told him.” She looked pointedly at Sam. “Kelly and Megan says he’s your boyfriend, Aunt Molly. Is he?”
“Katie,” Eileen smoothly interjected, “why don’t you go back to play with your cousins? I think Daddy almost has the hot dogs ready.”
“Okay,” Katie agreed, then looked at Sam again. “Are you Aunt Molly’s boyfriend?”
Molly coughed. Sam grinned at the child and squatted down so he was at eye level with her. He extended his hand. “I’m Sam Reed. I’m a friend of your aunt’s.”
Katie’s eyebrows drew together in a curious frown. “But are you her boyfriend?”
“What do you know about boyfriends?” he asked her.
“I got one,” she said. “His name is Steve. He’s in my class.”
“I see. How come Steve’s your boyfriend?”
She thought the question over, then shrugged. “’Cause he’s the boy I like best, I guess. He’s pretty good at coloring, but his writing stinks.”
Sam nodded solemnly. “I think your aunt says the same thing about my writing.”
“Really?”
“Yep. So maybe I am her boyfriend.”
That made the child giggle. Eileen gave her daughter a nudge. “Go back to Daddy, honey. We’ll be along in a minute.”
After admonishing Molly not to forget her present, Katie beamed at Sam, then skipped away. Eileen looked at Molly. “Since you’ve forgotten to introduce me, I’ll do it myself.” The light in her eyes took the sting out of the rebuke. She turned to Sam. “I’m Eileen. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Reed.”
“Sam, please,” he said. “Nobody calls me Mr. Reed after hours.”
“You should hear what they call you behind your back,” Molly quipped.
Sam shot her a knowing look. “And you all think I don’t know it?”
Eileen’s hand moved over the swell of her stomach. “Everyone was, er, intrigued on Monday,” she said carefully. “That ad—”
He grinned at her. “You know what Molly’s temper is like,” he said dismissively. Beside him, he could feel Molly bristle. If he dared look at her, he was sure she’d have the same sour expression she’d given him when he’d called her “babe” at the office. “After the argument we had in an editorial meeting last Friday, I was surprised she let me off that easy.”
Eileen raised her eyebrows and looked at Molly. “Really?”
Molly managed a slight nod. Sam retrieved the large package from her and tucked it under his arm. “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’m ready for lunch.”
Molly frowned at him. “You just ate the equivalent of four pies at the culinary tent.”
“I’m a man, Molly,” he said, giving her a deliberately heated look. “Dessert doesn’t satisfy all my hungers.”
And before Molly could respond, her family swept them in the direction of the party.
WITH A FROWN, Molly studied Sam’s profile. He was playing duck-duck-goose with her ten nieces. Seated in the tight circle, he had all ten girls obviously charmed. He seemed relaxed and at ease, and Molly was trying to assimilate this image of him with the irascible, inflexible man she’d seen at the Sentinel— and with the man who spent his weekends working on a vintage sailboat. In his green shirt and khaki trousers, he looked casual but elegant as the soft breeze tousled his dark hair. For a man used to country club parties and sophisticated entertainments, he’d handled the morning and boisterous afternoon with remarkable grace.
She had to give him that.
He’d seemingly had just one uncomfortable moment. They had followed Fiona and Eileen the rest of the way up the hill to find the large Flynn clan in full swing. Molly’s four brothers-in-law stood around a charcoal grill with her father, while her four sisters sat at a picnic table and supervised their children—all girls. The running joke in the Flynn family was that no baby would dare be born a boy when he’d be outnumbered ten to one by his female cousins.
As Sam had glided to a halt he found himself the focus of her sisters’ curious looks, but had quickly recovered. Flashing Molly a bright smile, he had retrieved a root beer from a nearby cooler and said, “My kind of party. The chicks outnumber the guys by more than three to one.” The collective laugh he’d won from her family gave him instant entrée into their tightly knit clan. He pressed a diet soda into Molly’s hand, then strolled away to join the men.
Leaving her, Molly thought irritably, to wonder how he knew she drank diet soda, and to deal with the pending interrogation from her sisters. She was surprised to find that he had, indeed, been right that she’d have no reason to lie about her relationship with him. She’d answered every question truthfully—from the way she’d met him, to how much he annoyed her at work, to why she’d run the ad in the morning paper. As he had predicted, her sisters had drawn their own conclusions. That, too, had irritated her—as if he’d taken something valuable from her. She’d always been able to turn to her sisters for advice, consolation, and support. Under normal circumstances, they would have been her safe haven on Monday when she’d seen the ad in the paper. Her plan had been to submit her resignation to Sam, then head to her sister Eileen’s where she could eat chocolate chip cookies and talk ugly about the man who’d ruined her life at the Sentinel. But Sam had surprised her with his insistence and persistence. Her Flynn sense of honor had urged her to accept his offer. And one simple kiss that still tingled on her lips had shown her just how dicey it would be to keep her heart intact. When he’d neatly ducked the issue of his sudden disappearance for the last few days, she’d seen that passing look of stark loneliness in his gaze—the same look that had made it impossible for her to turn away from him in the first place.
Like the stray cat, he’d learned to deal with life’s misfortunes by isolating himself. Whatever he’d been through in the past week had left an indelible impression, and whereas Molly would have turned to her vast network of family and friends for support, Sam shut people out.
That, she instinctively knew, was his style. Given what few facts she knew about his life and his strange assimilation into the Reed clan, she wasn’t terribly surprised. Sam never got entangled. He never allowed things to get messy. No strings. No roots. No commitments. Not in work and not in life. When his job in Payne was through, he’d move on, back to a life of global travel, multi-billion-dollar deal brokering, and high-society entertainments.
And he’d be through with her, too.
Molly, on the other hand, was rooted here in a rural community that made an annual event of duck races. She could not imagine leaving that behind. She’d decided that any relationship she might have with Sam would end in heartbreak. The choice she now weighed was the balance between the risk of a broken heart and the risk of never knowing what would happen if she tried to chase away Sam’s lingering loneliness. It was the kind of choice that screamed for heart-to-heart conversations and sisterly advice—things Molly had learned to depend on. But now Sam stood between Molly and her sisters, her bargain with him precluding her from coming completely clean with them.
Fortunately, the meal and the festivities of Katie’s birthday had turned some of the attention away from the novelty of Sam, and as her family had spread out among lawn chairs and picnic blankets, she had found herself seated alone with him. He asked questions, prodded her for stories about her family, and listened attentively—actively, even. He seemed fascinated by tales of Molly’s and her sisters’ childhood and adolescent experiences, and of her nieces’ escapades. She noticed that he constantly found reasons to touch her. He’d brush a curl behind her ear or trace a finger along the veins on the back of her hand. Each little touch, each caress, stirred the embers of the passion that had been burning in her since Monday.
And with every question, every soft laugh, every curious look in his eyes, Molly had fallen for him just a little harder.
Feeling unreasonably irritable, Molly found a seat at the picnic table where she could watch her nieces giggling with Sam on the verdant lawn.
She’d be a fool to fall for Sam, she’d told herself countless times, repeating the argument to herself regularly since his kiss that morning. Yet it still failed to convince her. Sam was tasting pies and listening to advice and comments about the Sentinel when Molly hit upon the reason she felt so wary with him. Though her friends and family had often accused her of falling in love too hard and too fast, she’d always known the truth. The guys she fell for were really just projects. They’d needed her. And she’d enjoyed being needed.
As a rule, she didn’t go for men like I’ve-got-the-world-by-the-tail Sam Reed. Sam didn’t need anybody or anything. And falling in love with him would be utterly and stupendously stupid. For the first time in her life, Molly almost wished she could simply indulge in a casual affair, fully comfortable with the knowledge that when Sam’s work in Payne was done, he’d climb into his private plane and fly out of her life.
But she couldn’t. And she knew it. If she let herself fall for Sam, she’d end up nursing a colossal broken heart. So the question became, was he worth it?
Molly drummed her fingers on the table and watched him accept his role as the designated goose. He rose fluidly from the circle of girls and chased her niece, Emily, around the circle. Emily won easily—no doubt because Sam had tamed his strides to small steps that gave the six-year-old a significant advantage. At least, she mused as she watched the flex of his broad shoulders and his long-legged strides, no one could blame her for finding him sexy as sin.
And if she’d listened to her sisters weeks ago, she’d have seen this coming, but she’d been so sure….
It would have been so much easier if he’d simply accepted her resignation, she thought wearily. She’d contemplated quitting a dozen times, but in the back of her mind was the realization that she’d created this mess. That she had, indeed, through her own impulsiveness, caused him a considerable amount of embarrassment. And he’d taken it all in stride, letting her off the hook for little more than a couple of dinner dates and some mildly uncomfortable suppositions on the part of her friends and family.
She owed him.
And honor wouldn’t let her squelch—even if he did make her stomach flutter and her pulse race. As if he sensed her scrutiny, he looked her way and grinned at her.
Molly’s heart thudded a little harder.
“Problems?”
Molly glanced up as her sister Colleen handed her a bottle of soda and took the seat next to her at the picnic table.
“Not problems, exactly,” she mumbled. Across the lawn, Katie and her cousins were laughing in delight as they tackled Sam to the ground.
“You have the look,” Colleen said.
“What look?”
“The some-man-is-turning-you-inside-out look.”
“Oh.” She took a long sip of her soda. “That look.”
Colleen’s gaze followed hers to the spot beneath the oak tree. “He seems—interesting.”
“You mean in that superpowerful, extremely wealthy corporate magnate kind of way?”
Colleen’s eyebrows lifted. “Did I hit a nerve?”
Molly winced. “No. Sorry. It’s just been a long couple of days.”
“I’ll bet. Which is why enquiring minds want to know why you’ve been avoiding our calls.”
“I’ve been really busy,” Molly hedged.
Colleen gave her a shrewd look. “Not that busy. You’re never that busy, Mol.” She shook her head and a dark red wave of hair tumbled over her shoulder. “Something’s going on between you and this guy.”
Molly couldn’t suppress a slight smile. “I don’t suppose you got the idea from that asinine personal ad, did you?”
Her sister laughed. “I have to admit, that was a little over the top, even for you. How mad were you to do something like that?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I can imagine. I can also imagine that Sam didn’t especially appreciate your sense of humor. Was he super pissed or what?”
“Actually, no.” She shook her head. “Believe it or not, he let me off kind of easy.”
“Seriously?” Her sister pressed. “Todd would have killed me for that.”
“Before or after he finished worshipping the ground you walk on?”
“He does not.” Molly gave her sister a knowing look. Colleen laughed. “Okay, he sort of does, but don’t tell him I know. He thinks I’m oblivious.”
“You’re safe with me.”
“Still, he would’ve been seriously annoyed if I’d pulled a stunt like that. I mean, it’s so public, Molly. Couldn’t you think of something a little less dramatic to tell him you were steamed?”
“I told you, it wasn’t supposed to get printed.”
“What did you two fight about anyway?”
“A story I wanted to write.”
Colleen shook her head, her eyes twinkling. “I should have known.” She drank some of her soda. “The way you’ve been complaining about this man for the past few weeks, it was just a matter of time—”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Sure it was. You’ve talked of little else since Carl brought him in. I have to admit, all that protesting was beginning to sound suspicious.”
“Colleen—”
“Come on, Molly. I’ve seen you through, what, five major heartbreaks?”
“At least.”
Colleen nodded. “I know the signs. When you start talking nonstop about anything other than the paper, things are getting serious.”
“The paper is the biggest part of my life. Sam’s making a lot of changes.” Molly frowned. “He bugs the crud out of me.”
“I know. Todd annoyed me at first, too.” Colleen shook her head again. “And if you remember, Hutch bugged the hell out of Eileen. We thought they’d never make it down the aisle. Eventually, you’ll get over it.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Some couples don’t, you know. They bicker all the time.”
“That’s a cheery thought.”
“They also get to make up a lot. Passion, Molly. It’s got a lot of different faces.”
That’s precisely what Sam had said. “I guess it does.”
“So, how long were you planning to keep us in the dark about him?” Colleen asked. “You know we were bound to find out sooner or later.”
Molly shrugged. “I don’t know. It never came up.” She shot a look at Eileen. “Is Eileen upset that I didn’t say anything?” Their oldest sister was the most sensitive of the brood.
“I don’t think so. If it had been any of the rest of us, we’d have spilled our guts weeks ago. But not you. Everyone knows you’re more independent.”
“Hmm.” She looked at Sam again. The game appeared to have ended. He had the ten little girls gathered in a tight circle where they were watching him with avid interest. With that voice, Molly thought, he could recite the preamble to the U.S. Constitution and women everywhere would fall under his spell.
“He’s hot,” Colleen said slowly, following the direction of her gaze. “In that brooding, man-of-the-earth kind of way.”
“What woman can resist a man who plays duck-duck-goose,” Molly said.
“You’ve got a point there. I wouldn’t have pictured the two of you together until I actually saw it. But the chemistry—Lord, Molly. The way he looks at you—it just sort of sizzles, you know? No wonder he’s been making you nuts.”
“You don’t have to sound so smug.”
“Hey, I told you weeks ago when you were venting about him that I thought you had it for him. If I’d seen you two together, I would have put money on it.”
Molly trailed a finger through the moisture on her soda bottle and studied the rivulets of condensation on the glass. “I didn’t know at the time,” she confessed. “It was only recently—”
“Molly?” She started at the sound of Sam’s voice. He placed one hand on her shoulder. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Colleen looked at Molly for several long seconds, then stood to go. “I didn’t realize how late it was getting. We’ve got to get down to the grandstands or we won’t have a seat for the final races.” She extended her hand to Sam. “It was very nice to meet you, Sam. I hope you’re going to join us for the rest of the festival.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze.
Colleen smiled at Molly. “Later this week,” she said, “we’ll have lunch.”
“I’ll try,” Molly promised as her sister wandered off in search of her family. She finally looked at Sam. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He sat next to her. “Everything okay?”
“Sure.”
“I had a feeling you were getting the third degree from your sister.”
Her laugh was short. “You could say that. You were right though. Everyone bought it.”
“And that makes you a little sad,” he said with uncanny accuracy.
She wasn’t sure why his insight made her uncomfortable. “Sort of.”
“I understand.”
His quiet assertion surprised her. There were depths to this man that she’d never even imagined. “How did you know?” she pressed.
He reached for her hand. “I’ve spent most of my life being part of, but not really belonging to, the Reed family. I know what it’s like to be alone in a big group of people.”
“I’m very close to my family.”
“But you don’t always feel like you fit in?” She looked around where her siblings were packing up their belongings and their kids. The main event of the Duck Races Festival, the scholarship competition race, took place in the late afternoon. The Flynn clan would make their way to the grandstand where they’d find seats for the competition. “This makes me feel guilty.”
“I told you to just tell them the truth.”
“I did,” she said carefully. “They didn’t ask as much as they could have.”
He nodded, skimming his thumb over her knuckles. “And it bothered you, didn’t it?”
“Yes and no. I can’t explain it.”
“It’s hard,” he said, sliding his hand up her arm to cup her elbow. He nudged her a little closer. “There’s a fine line between wanting your privacy and wishing people cared enough to dig a little deeper.”
She searched his expression. Though it showed nothing unusual, there was something in the statement Molly found inexplicably sad. “Sam—”
“Aunt Molly! Aunt Molly!” Katie came racing toward them across the hill.
“Does she run everywhere she goes?” Sam asked Molly seconds before the little girl hurled herself into Molly’s arms.
Molly hugged Katie close and looked at Sam. “She got that from me.”
“Aunt Molly, thank you for my ball and pole thing,” she said referring to the tether ball set Molly had given her for her birthday. “I really like it.”
“You’re welcome, Katie-Diddle. I’m glad you’re having a good birthday.”
Katie squirmed loose, her attention fully on Sam. “Next time you come see me, if you come to my house, you can play with my—” She looked at Molly. “What’s it called again?”
“Tether ball.”
“Yeah. That.” Katie turned back to Sam. “Dad said he’d set it up. I bet I could take ya’.”
Sam laughed. The rich chuckle soothed Molly’s shredded nerves like a glass of cognac. Sam braced his hands on his thighs and leaned over until his face was eye level with Katie’s. “I don’t know, I’m taller.”
“But I’m quicker,” she insisted.
“That may be true,” he conceded. He stuck out his hand. “Deal. Next time, we’ll play tether ball.”
Katie grinned at him and gave his hand a hard shake. Her father called her name from across the hill. She gave Molly a quick kiss and said, “Bye. Gotta go.” She took off at a run toward her waiting parents.
Sam shook his head. “Did you have that much energy when you were her age?”
“Are you kidding?” Molly stood and picked up her empty soda bottle, deliberately casting off her lingering gray mood. She’d loved this festival for years. She wasn’t about to let brooding thoughts spoil the sheer pleasure of the afternoon. “I have that much energy now.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he assured her. “And counting on.”