Page 45 of Right in Front of You

MOLLY, AGE 25, PRESENT

There are handsome men, good-looking ones who force you to pause in the middle of the street for a second look, and then there is Carter Clark. The man whose level of handsome blows the roofs off houses, and whom I hurt so much. My lies burned in my throat each time I thought about him. But I did it to protect us both. If he knew the truth, our friendship would have been flushed down the toilet.

Then there was his belief of my words, which broke my heart five years ago in the forest when I told him that I’d set the barn on fire. He’d believed that I wanted to hurt myself. I remembered hearing him curse under his breath as he left me. Swarms of regretful goosebumps covered my arms that day, yet it was that foul mouth that had me completely smitten with him. It made me want him that much more each time he said or did something stupid. Or knocked on my door in the middle of the night, like right now.

I opened the door and leaned against the frame, blocking his view. He was standing there in his white t-shirt and jeans that screamed I came to make you mine. It wasn’t fair that he’d look even more handsome at night than during the day. I mean, who else could pull off that mouth-watering sexy grin at two in the morning?

“Did you drive here?” I asked.

“No, I took a cab.”

“Carter, that’s one hundred miles—”

“And every inch of that was worth it to see you.”

A wave of hormones surged through my body, despite the hint of alcohol on his breath. I hated alcohol. It was deadly and it made people do things they wouldn’t otherwise when they were sober. But Carter was here, and that must have counted for something, didn’t it? Was it possible that he’d forgiven me? We’d spoken a few times since, but I tried to avoid him for the most part. I wanted him to trust in what I’d written to him. He never mentioned the letter, the way I’d asked, but deep inside, I knew that he believed me. He had to.

I’d been patient for seven years, waiting for him to mature and empty his heart of mourning, and finally see what was right in front of him. I wanted him to trust in the friendship we had since… well, forever. I was pretty sure that he’d got the maturity part down – after all, he was raising Mackenzie with Jo – but was his heart ready? Was he ready to trust me, and not ask questions I couldn’t answer?

Please don’t mention the letter. Please pretend that day I told you I set the barn on fire didn’t happen.

“You’re drunk.” I poked my finger into his hard chest. He took my hand, lifted it, kissed it like a gentleman, and I melted.

“I had one beer.” He grinned, drawing my attention to that cute dimple in his cheek. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Molly, you and I… well, me and you… we’re like soap and water. Actually, I wish you were soap, so I could feel you all over me… shit, it sounded much better in my head. Okay, I had three beers. I’m sorry. I should go.”

He looked even cuter when frazzled. As I scanned him once more, I felt a wave of heat flow over my body — the kind of heat that could only be extinguished in one way. If he wanted to leave, then he would have moved away, right? Yet he was staring at me as if I were the only one in this world.

“Your nipples are getting hard.” His seductive voice sent more excitement coursing through me. “I guess it’s true what they say about firemen.”

This was a trap and I knew it; but heck, what did I have to lose?

“What do they say about firemen?”

“They find them hot and leave them wet.”

Spoken like a true firefighter. I wanted to slap him, but that would have been hypocritical of me. Carter was right, though. I was both hot and wet within two seconds of seeing him, but instead of putting a hard one to his face, or giving into the temptation that he was serving on a silver platter, I changed the subject.

“Would you like to come in for some tea?”

I shouldn’t have said that. I should have let him go because the timing was off, and if he stayed, the fireworks sparkling between us could blow up like dynamite. But it was two in the morning and he was drunk. Carter was still my friend, and I couldn’t let him just leave in the middle of the night. True friends helped each other in any situation.

“Really?”

“I’m not letting you go back at two in the morning, semi-drunk.” I opened the door, welcoming him to my one-bedroom apartment. I’d lived there for seven years now, and the past five I’d stayed secluded, away from Hope Bay for the most part. I hadn’t seen Father since the fire incident either, which justified my decision to remain hidden.

My residency would be over in few short weeks, and I’d be a doctor. Then it would be time to make a decision about where I wanted to take my practice.

“Are you saying you want me?” Carter drew my attention back to his stumbling body as he sat down on the arm chair. Even with his slight state of drunkenness, the level of heat he was capable of exuding was forcing beads of sweat to form between my boobs. Wasn’t it dangerous for a firefighter to be this hot? The rising temperature of my skin was becoming uncomfortable.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” I shook my head, yet another lie burning in my throat. I couldn’t quite remember how long I’d wanted him for, but the timing was never right; the circumstances of our friendship were never aligned for something more to develop. Or perhaps it had developed, but I’d locked it away. Being with Carter meant going back to Hope Bay, and I wasn’t ready. I didn’t think I’d ever be. Seeing him a few times each year for the past five years, our friendship remained strong, and the feelings I’d developed before then never went away. Had his? Now that I was on my own, with a secure career, I had to figure out what those feelings meant. I was more shocked than anyone that I would consider something more than a friendship.

But first, I wanted him to realize that we were stronger together than apart. I wanted him to believe me and trust me. I was finally ready for something more, and the self-worth that had grown in my body over the past five years, which had blossomed into a strong woman, gave me enough courage to deal with life – even Father. I was no longer afraid. I was ready to lead my life per my rules, not anyone else’s.

“Why is your window open at two in the morning?” he asked.

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