Without replying she turned and headed back upstairs to her apartment, her footsteps echoing as she went.
Hunter walked out.
Anna Marie had finally gone inside. Although he was relieved not to have to make idle chitchat, he realized she’d probably tried to listen in on their conversation. He hoped like hell her hearing aid batteries had died or else the old glass-against-the-wall trick hadn’t worked. Otherwise she’d be blabbing to the world about his blown date with Molly. And Hunter’s reputation as a stud, such as it was, would be shot to hell by nine-fifteen tomorrow morning.
MOLLY CLOSED HER DOOR and leaned back against the wall, exhausted and wound up at the same time. She’d always had a thing for Hunter and she’d enjoyed the sexual tension that came along with their verbal sparring. Back in law school, she hadn’t gone out with him because she’d been a woman on a mission.
She had no time for a real social life since she’d been determined to work hard, focus on school and become a self-supporting attorney. Unlike her mother, who needed a man to validate her existence and keep her afloat financially, Molly intended to be independent. Unfortunately her success had come at the expense of any real relationships.
But now that she’d moved to Hawken’s Cove in an effort to renew ties and family connections, she’d mentally begun to open herself up to the possibility of a social life, a sex life.
With Hunter. But his walls were as high as hers. Even though he’d repeatedly asked her out, he’d never pushed. Now she thought she understood why. Foster care. She shivered. The reserve in his demeanor finally made sense to her. She couldn’t see someone who’d been raised as he had, being willing to put himself on the line for rejection.
And Molly was by no means certain she could move forward, either. Since she’d been a little girl, Molly had dreamed of a relationship with her mother. She’d wished for a mom who’d take an interest in her life, her friends, her schoolwork. Someone to talk to about boys, and hard times. Unfortunately, her mother had been too self-absorbed to worry much about Molly, who had been a mistake with husband number one. Her father was a wealthy California vineyard owner who Molly knew of but didn’t really know. And he had another family.
But since meeting Marc, her mother’s attitude toward Molly had changed and warmed, something she didn’t want to risk losing. And she knew Marc would feel betrayed if she started anything with Hunter. She’d lose the beginnings of her newfound family closeness.
Which brought her back around to the quagmire she suddenly found herself in. Marc had definitely left gaps in his story about his past with his niece. Hunter’s name had never come up, nor had Tyler Benson’s. Yet both had apparently played a big role during that time. She bit down on her lower lip, wondering how Marc would handle it if she questioned him.
Then there was Hunter, who’d finally stepped up and brought her dinner-an assortment of choices no less-yet had an agenda. He’d wanted to dig for information about Marc, as well as let her know Lilly was alive.
Where had Lilly been for the last ten years, Molly wondered. And why had she suddenly resurfaced now, just in time to stop her uncle from claiming her fortune?
Molly drew herself up and headed toward the telephone to call her mother and Marc, to see if they were up for an evening visit. Because she wouldn’t have any answers unless she asked the right questions.
THE LATE-AFTERNOON SUN shone through the blinds in Ty’s apartment, but not even the bright light eased the feeling that Lacey was shut in. She hated being confined. She’d been on her own for so long, she was used to coming and going as she pleased. Instead, she’d spent the last three days sitting around and waiting for Ty to come home from work. True, she went out with the dog, taking frequent walks with Digger behind the building where Ty lived, but she was more isolated than she’d ever been. Being idle wasn’t her idea of fun but she’d promised. In return, Ty and Hunter had assured her it was only temporary.
They didn’t want her to be recognized by the locals and have to explain her presence just yet. Explanations would come soon enough. Hunter said he’d spoken with her uncle’s lawyer and stepdaughter-to-be. He’d let Molly know that Lilly was alive and well, and he’d left it to the woman he claimed was his friend, to inform Marc Dumont of that fact. Lacey knew Hunter would have some news of her uncle’s reaction soon, but still, she was antsy and on edge while waiting.
She missed her job and her routine. As a means of keeping busy, she’d spent the last few days cleaning Ty’s bachelor pad, which obviously hadn’t seen clean in ages. On the first day, she dusted, vacuumed, washed a stack of dishes piled high in the sink, and then straightened up. The man obviously never picked up after himself. On day two she worked on the closets and today, she was starting the picking up process all over again.
She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she found the whole messy bachelor pad thing kind of endearing, just like Ty himself. Lacey didn’t know if Ty had a woman in his life-nor did she care to think about it right now-but she wondered if there was a female who stopped by and picked up after him when Lacey wasn’t around. Nobody had called since she’d arrived. Nobody female, anyway, though Ty had had more than his share of clients leaving messages.
She picked up his sweats which lay beside his bed and placed them in the laundry basket, then continued with what had become her routine. Normally when Lacey cleaned, she was working for a living and the process was a distant, methodical one. She’d come by her job choice by accident and good fortune, but the occupation suited her. She’d always found solace in organization.
She couldn’t say she found the same comfort here in Ty’s place. Because along with cleaning up here, she discovered an intimacy she couldn’t deny. One she never thought about when she’d taken care of other clients’ homes.
She was learning how Ty lived day-to-day, what clothes he wore…what brand of boxers he preferred. Her fingers tingled when she touched his personal items, something else that never occurred when she worked at home. Ty made her think about the past, about a time when she’d felt cared-for and safe. And he made her think about the heavy-duty sexual attraction that she just didn’t feel for anyone else. Not even Alex.
With that thought, Lacey decided she’d had enough of being surrounded by Ty-his scent, his things, him. A short walk would help clear her head. She whistled for Digger who jumped off the couch where she’d perched her lazy body and within minutes, Lacey started for the door, the dog at her feet.
A loud knock startled her and she glanced at the door warily. Ty used his key and Hunter usually called to let her know he was stopping by. She looked through the small peephole and sucked in a startled breath.
“Uncle Marc,” she said under her breath. She wasn’t prepared to handle him but she refused to run away, either. Those days had passed.
Drawing a deep breath, she opened the door to face him.
“Lilly,” her uncle said, disbelief in his voice.
She folded her arms over her chest and nodded. In the silence that followed, Lacey took in his appearance. He’d aged. His hair had turned a silver-gray at the temples and he had deeper lines and creases in his slimmer, drawn face.
Digger sniffed at his feet, her nose digging beneath his pant leg.
“Would you please get that dog away?” He stepped back to get away from her pet, but each time he moved, Digger went with him, nudging him and begging for attention.
Uncle Marc’s aversion to Digger didn’t say much about the man’s character. Then again, she’d always known he didn’t have much.