Cross My Heart (8 page)

“Why do you ask?”

Hunter inhaled deep. “Let's say my past with Dumont doesn't paint him in a favorable light. But you like him?”

“Like I said, he seems decent. He makes Mom happy and he's been nice to me. But I can't say I know him all that well. The romance or whatever you want to call it happened pretty fast. Then again with my mother, all her romances happened fast. The marriages materialized even faster.”

“Is your mother…” He sought for a delicate way to ask his next question, then decided what the hell. He'd blown any shot with this woman already. “Is your mother wealthy?” he asked.

Molly burst out laughing. Not the light ringing laughter that usually drew him but a loud, droll sound.

“God, no. Well, I take that back. My mother marries wealthy men, ends up divorced with a decent settlement, blows through the money and moves on to the next catch.”

“Dumont's her next wealthy catch?” Hunter asked incredulously.

Molly nodded. “If he isn't now, he will be after he inherits his late brother's trust fund.”

Which explains why good old Marc Dumont was the future husband who wanted Molly around. The man needed her legal skills to help him gain his fortune. And what better way to get it than to push his fiancée into renewing her relationship with her lawyer daughter? He'd endear himself to both Molly and to his soon-to-be wife.

Molly exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingertips.

He stepped forward, placing his hand on her shoulder. Her skin felt hot and feverish beneath his palm. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I'm fine. It's just a headache. I'd really appreciate it if you'd tell me what your connection is to Marc Dumont and why you're here grilling me about my family. It's not like you gave a damn before now,” she said, her voice deep and gravelly.

“I always gave a damn,” he said so low he could barely hear himself speak. “I just didn't know what to do about it.”

“Well, I can tell you that showing up here with a meal and an agenda is one hell of a way to show you care.”

He wasn't surprised by her words. She had a valid point. “You're going to have to cut me some slack here. I'm not exactly a pro at forming relationships.”

She laughed. “You'd never know it from the courthouse rumors.”

He wanted to treat her to a cocky grin but a real smile was all he could offer. “You said it yourself. All rumors.”

He'd never had a relationship with a woman that involved his emotions. Unless he counted Lilly and he realized now that he'd loved her but he hadn't been in love. The truth came as a relief. He'd always be there for Lilly. He'd bail her out or help her in any way he could because they'd bonded years before.

Yet what he'd begun to feel for Molly was stronger than his feelings for Lilly because of what he sensed he
could
feel in the future—if he opened himself up to the possibility of being hurt. He'd betrayed her tonight. At this moment. Because he stood in Molly's house, in need of information to help Lilly, a woman Molly thought was dead.

The ironic thing was, the women were very much alike and Hunter could even see them being friends. In another life or in this one, if only things were less complicated.

But they weren't. And they'd only get more complex when Molly found out the truth.

H
unter sat in Molly's kitchen, asking her to give him a break because relationships weren't and never had been his thing. He couldn't believe he'd laid it on the line that way but he had.

She placed one hand on the counter, her expression a mixture of disbelief and what Hunter wanted to think was hope.

For them.

She studied him. “Is that what we're doing here? Forming a relationship? Because I have to tell you, I'm lost.”

He let out a groan. “Can I sit?” He couldn't answer her question until he'd told her everything. Then she'd have to decide what was or wasn't possible between them. And the story he had to tell her was a long one.

She gestured to a chair by the table and he straddled the wrought iron seat.

She pulled up a chair and warily sat down beside him.

He used the time to steady his emotions since he rarely shared his past. “I grew up in foster care,” he finally said.

Her eyes grew softer. “I didn't know.”

He stiffened, waiting for the dose of pity women usually offered when they found out. The kind Hunter hated because it meant they felt sorry for him.

Molly tapped her fingers against the table, meeting his gaze. “I wonder if it was better than being carted off to boarding school when the stepfather of the moment was willing to pay the bills.”

He laughed, grateful for her smart-ass reply. He'd sensed she was special. Now he knew for sure.

“So really, how bad was it?” Molly asked.

“Not that bad.” He wasn't lying. “Especially the last place. You've met my friend Ty who works at Night Owl's?”

She nodded. “You introduced us last time I went with friends for drinks after work.”

“He's my foster brother. His mother took me in and treated me like family. She did the same with another foster kid in the house. A girl.” Hunter paused a beat, knowing this is where their understanding and bonding would end. “Her name was Lilly Dumont.”

“Marc's niece?” Molly narrowed her gaze, the connection becoming clearer. “The one who died?”

“The one presumed dead,” Hunter said, correcting her as best he could until he could ease into the truth. He leaned forward to explain. “Most people in town know the story but you didn't grow up here. And obviously Dumont's left out key pieces if he never mentioned my name to you.”

Molly drew back, her shoulders stiff. “I'm sure he had his reasons. But since he's not here, why don't you fill me in?” she suggested with barely concealed sarcasm.

Already she was treating him like the enemy.

Hunter gripped the cool steel backing of the chair. His only hope of winning her over was with the truth. “You already know that Dumont's brother and sister-in-law died in a car accident.”

Molly nodded. “They left a huge estate and millions of dollars in trust to Lilly and named Marc as her guardian.”

So far their versions agreed, although Hunter assumed that was about to change. “Lilly was a scared girl when she came to live with her uncle. She'd just lost her parents and she wanted him to take care of her, and to love her. She thought he did, but it turned out that he only loved her trust fund.”

He recalled Lilly's version of events, told late one night when the three friends had hung out on an old tire swing that hung from a tree in the backyard.

He glanced at Molly. Her expression remained skeptical and wary.

He decided to just continue. “His love and kindness had really been a way to manipulate her to gain access to her inheritance. It was the cruelest twist of fate. That's when Lilly became angry and rebellious…and Marc became vindictive. When he couldn't control Lilly with abuse, he had her placed in foster care in order to scare her into submission. It was the fear of going back to her uncle that caused her ‘death'.”

“No.” Molly shook her head.

Hunter could almost see the unwillingness to believe washing over her in waves as she rocked in her seat.

“Marc said Lilly was difficult from the beginning. Unwilling to accept authority or the fact that her parents died. He couldn't handle her and had no choice but to hand her over to the state.”

Hunter clenched his jaw tight, not surprised at the twisted version of events or the fact that Molly would buy into them. “You said yourself you don't know Dumont all that well, so you can't possibly discount what I'm telling you.”

Molly rose from her seat. “I can and I do. Marc said Lilly was wild and uncontrollable. He'd been single and didn't know anything about kids. He was at his wits' end when he sent her to foster care. Afterward he felt awful about his decision and wanted to take her back and start over, but she stole his car and—”

“He has no proof,” Hunter said. “No proof that Lilly stole anything. All he knows is that his car ended up in the quarry below the cliffs and no body was ever found.”

Molly stood towering over him. Eyes wide, she was obviously fighting against accepting his story, probably because it would upset the fragile peace she'd begun to find at home. A peace she'd probably dreamed about for a lifetime, he thought, understanding her better than she knew.

“Think like a lawyer, Molly. You're too smart to take Dumont's word at face value,” Hunter said.

She rubbed her hand against her forehead. “I need some time. A few days to look into all this,” Molly said without meeting his gaze.

He rose slowly from his seat. “You won't need to look too far. You can just ask the source.”

Molly moved her hand away from her face. “What do you mean?”

Hunter drew a deep breath, fortifying himself for revealing the news. “Lilly's alive. Any questions you have, you can ask her yourself.”

Instead of looking incredulous, Molly merely shook her head at him. “You're reaching, Hunter. You may not like Marc, but conjuring up a story of Lilly Dumont's resurrection isn't going to work. I know this has to be about the trust fund. There's no way you can legally stop Marc from filing to claim the money.”

“You're right. I can't. But Lilly can.”

“You're serious.” Molly lowered herself back into her chair. “She's
alive?
”

He nodded.

“You've seen her?”

“With my own eyes. She goes by a different name these days, but she's alive and well.” He neglected to mention that he'd been in on the setup all along.

“Wow,” Molly said. “Wow.”

He placed his hand on the chair behind her, careful not to touch her, regardless of how much he wanted to. “So you'll let Dumont know his quest for cash is over?”

She rubbed her hands over her eyes again. “I'll tell him what you said. That's all I can do.”

“Can I get you something? Water? Aspirin?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I just need to be alone, you know?”

He nodded. She had a lot to process thanks to him, including the fact that he cared—if she chose to believe him.

She walked him back down the long flight of stairs. “Some surprise date,” she said as he reached for the knob to let himself out.

He wasn't pleased with himself but a lot had come out tonight, at least on his part. What Molly chose to do with that information was up to her.

“You
do
know I always wanted to get to know you better. I've asked you out before,” he felt compelled to remind her.

“But you never pressed the issue until now when you had an agenda.”

“It's not
my
agenda.”

Molly pursed her lips. “That's an interesting point. It's obviously Lilly's agenda.”

“She goes by the name of Lacey now.”

“And are you Lacey's lawyer? Because trusts and estates aren't your specialty.” Molly's voice was purely detached and professional, a sign she'd withdrawn completely.

Hunter groaned. Lilly hadn't officially
hired
him but he assumed he was all she had. “I may have to get some help but yes, I'm her attorney.”

She perched her hands on her hips. “Which puts us on opposing sides should Marc decide to pursue the matter.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow at that. “He doesn't have a leg to stand on and I would hope you'd look at the issue from all sides before going in that direction.”

“I'll discuss all options with my client,” she said stiffly.

She appeared so hurt, so betrayed, he felt compelled to step closer. He wanted to apologize but showing weakness might cause her to think his case and claim were weak, as well.

Alone in the small hallway, she seemed very close and for Molly, very vulnerable. He reached out and tipped her head upwards. “Molly?”

Her tongue flickered out and moistened her lips. He wanted to kiss her and knew he couldn't.

“Yes?” she asked on a whisper.

“While you're discussing options with your client, you might want to ask him who he blames for Lilly's death. And what he did about it afterward.”

She didn't reply.

“I'll check on you tomorrow,” Hunter said, dropping his hand before he acted on his desire.

He'd never been farther away from Molly than he was now. The irony was huge. Just as his feelings for Lilly became clear, potentially freeing him for a real relationship, it was Lilly's return that prevented him from getting closer to Molly.

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.

 

M
OLLY 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.