Page 24 of Right in Front of You

Feeling a little embarrassed, I shrugged.

“You said there were a couple of reasons. What’s the second one?”

“Well, that one’s a little bit more difficult to explain. I’ve been thinking about you and me. Us, I guess—”

“Wait. You know that this” – she pointed her finger between us – “cannot be anything more than a friendship, right?”

“It can’t?” Hearing my hopefulness fade in my voice, I shifted in my seat. What was I expecting, after I’d treated Molly like an asshole? But if there was one thing that she’d taught me, it was that you couldn’t give up. And I wouldn’t, either, until she changed her mind. All I needed was a different approach.

“Oh, Carter. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” She was looking at me like I was a pathetic loser. Pity filled her eyes.

What feelings?

All that excitement I’d felt driving to the city was gone. It disappeared right after she dealt me the ‘friend’ card, which I’d already planned to turn into a more than friend card.

“It’s not a big deal.” I waved it off. “We’re cool as friends, right? And when you move back to Hope Bay, we’ll still be friends.”

“I’m not moving back.” I frowned at the solid determination in her voice. It seemed my plan was failing, and it was failing bad.

“But it’s your hometown.”

She shook her head. “I like it in the city. The life here is more… peaceful.”

“It doesn’t get any more peaceful than Hope Bay,” I said, then duly noted her rolling eyes. I’d never seen Molly roll her eyes before, which somewhat surprised me. Had the city changed her?

“That depends for whom,” she said.

Of course.

That’s when it hit me. It had been so long that I’d almost forgotten how much Molly hated her father. But I didn’t want to bring him up. I didn’t want to concentrate on anything else today other than us.

“I’m sorry that you don’t see in Hope Bay what I see there,” I said.

“I just don’t see a future in Hope Bay.”

“But we need smart people like you. I mean, you’re in medicine, right? You could help Doctor Burke at the clinic. He’s getting old, you know.”

“I know, but Hope Bay is not for me. It won’t be for a long time.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. Was there any hope that she’d one day change her mind?

The waitress brought our food order. We both sipped on our root beer as I waited for her answer.

“Can we talk about something else?” she asked.

Fine. The conversation wasn’t getting us very far anyway. I could do something else. I looked around the room, a bit more nervous than I had been before this lunch started, and my gaze caught the mechanical bull near the far end of the restaurant.

“They have a mechanical bull here. We gotta try it out, Molly.”

“No way. I’m not embarrassing myself, but you’re more than welcome to.” I took her kind grin as an invitation to showcase my bull riding abilities. Not that I’d ridden one before, but I did live next to a cow farm, and considered Betsy the cow as one of my friends. We had a connection. But I’d keep the fact that I sometimes talked to the spotted girl, more often in fact than I had talked to people, to myself.

I licked my fingers clean, stood up, and offered my hand to her. She shot up, took hold of me, and couldn’t stop laughing as we headed to the corner of the room where, unbeknownst to me, my doom awaited.

“I can’t believe you’re going to do this.”

I don’t know why, but I’d sort of expected bull riding to be in my blood. I mean, it couldn’t be more difficult than baking a cake, could it? Jo had tried to show me how a few times, and I failed. But there were so many steps and instructions, I knew I was screwed before I even dropped the first egg on the floor.

Bull riding, though? Easy. Get on. Hold on. And use the grease in your hips God gave you.

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