Sealed with a Kiss (Ty & Hunter #2)(5)
Author: Carly Phillips

Molly glanced up and met her grandmother’s warm gaze, wishing not for the first time that she’d had this kind of compassion and caring during the difficult years she’d spent growing up alone.

“Hunter and I, we were complicated.” But Hunter was nothing if not passionate about his work. She was counting on that passion to help persuade him. “If I can convince him to take the case, he’ll make sure justice is done regardless of his personal feelings. It just depends on whether he’s gotten over things enough to help me.”

“Oh great. It’s not enough that you turned our world upside down by showing up here but now Dad’s life depends on you and some guy you screwed?” Jessie reentered the room as dramatically as she’d left it.

The commander smacked her cane against the floor in response to her rude words.

The young girl flinched but didn’t miss a beat. “Screwed over. Dad’s life depends on some guy she screwed over,” she quickly added.

Robin groaned.

“Hey, it’s what I meant to say but as usual nobody gave me a chance to finish.”

Molly shut her eyes and silently counted to ten.

Then she rose and walked over to where her half sister stood leaning against the door frame. “You and I are going to have to come to a truce of some kind because I’m sick and tired of your bullshit,” Molly said, telling Jessie off for the first time since she’d walked into the house.

Her father had welcomed her into this home and nobody, especially not the youngest, most obnoxious member of the family was going to tell her differently.

The young girl’s eyes opened wide at Molly’s words. “What if I don’t want to?” she asked defiantly.

Beneath the bravado, Molly noticed the shakiness in her tone. That was Jessie’s tell. Her attitude couldn’t quite hide her insecurity and fear, not when her voice gave her away. “You may not want to but you’ll do it anyway. Would you like to know why?”

Edna and Robin remained quiet in the background, but Molly felt their silent support.

“Why?” Jessie lifted her chin a notch.

“For the same reasons you hate me. Frank’s my father, too, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Jessie glanced away, then predictably stomped out of the room.

And that, Molly thought, was that.

Robin applauded without making a sound, while Edna nodded her approval. The knot in Molly’s stomach eased slightly as she realized neither of them would turn their backs on her because she’d taken a stand.

“Good luck,” Edna said. “I’m going to the kitchen.” She made her way out of the room.

“I’ll be in my room studying.” Robin paused and glanced at Molly. “Good luck.” She winked and walked out.

Molly inclined her head. “I’ll need it.” Much more than anyone knew.

“Squawk!”

Molly walked over to Ollie’s cage and looked inside, making eye contact with the bird.

At least she thought she was making eye contact. “You could have a little more faith in me, you know. Hunter might be happy to hear from me.”

“Squawk!” Molly interpreted that to mean when hell freezes over. She scowled at the bird before picking up her bag and heading to her car.

***

DANIEL HUNTER ROLLED and stretched his arm across the width of his king-size bed. His hand hit something solid and he came awake quickly but not easily. His head pounded and his mouth tasted like cotton, but neither of those things bothered him as much as the realization that he wasn’t alone.

He peeled open one eye and glanced over at the brunette in his bed.

Shit.

Allison had stayed over. Although she wasn’t a one-night stand, she was as close as he could get in his small town. No strings would better describe their relationship, such as it was. He’d always made sure she left right after sex, after he’d complimented and cajoled her into taking off. He glanced at her sleeping form and wondered how to keep an easy thing going yet avoid an awkward morning after. He had no damn clue, so he closed his eyes in the hopes she’d wake up and leave in silence.

One hell of a way to wake up, he thought and immediately wondered what the hell he was doing to himself. He worked like a dog by day and pounded alcohol and screwed disposable women at night. It wasn’t a routine he was proud of and when the woman beside him stirred, she merely reinforced the fact that the instant replay of his life in general wasn’t particularly appealing.

A quick glance at the clock told him it was already almost noon. On Saturday. Yeah, things were going to hell and fast, he thought, just as the jarring ring of the doorbell jolted his aching head, preventing what would have been a trip down memory lane that detailed why his life had taken a downhill dive.

He grabbed for the jeans he’d left on the floor by the bed and headed to the door of his Albany-based apartment. Before he made his way there, the doorbell rang again. And again.

Whoever was behind it had the patience of a woodpecker. “Shut up, I’m coming,” Hunter muttered. “What do you want?” he demanded as he swung the door open wide, then stared at his visitor in utter shock.

The woman standing in front of him had to be a ghost or a vision because she sure as hell couldn’t be real. He wondered if he could be hungover and having a nightmare at the same time. Molly Gifford had walked out of his life without looking back.

“Molly?” he finally asked stupidly.

“Hi, there.” She raised a hand before dropping her arm back to her side.

Her familiar voice assured him he wasn’t dreaming. And a thorough once-over told him she hadn’t been suffering during their time apart. She wore tight-fitting jeans tucked into red cowboy boots he remembered well, mostly because he’d envisioned those legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her moist, slick heat.

Not that he’d had the chance. During the last months he’d decided that he must’ve been the only guy in the history of mankind to fall in love with a woman he’d never screwed.

He cleared his throat and leaned against the wall for support. Between his aching head and cotton-filled mouth, thinking let alone speaking clearly was beyond him.

Her hair had grown longer, the blond strands falling over her shoulders, and a wisp of side bangs dipped over her forehead. She brushed them out of her eyes and studied him, her nose crinkling. “I woke you, didn’t I?” she asked, her normally confident voice tinged with uncertainty.

Suddenly he felt self-conscious, too, and he ran his hand through his messed-up hair. “What are you doing here?”