Page 71 of Right in Front of You

MOLLY

“I’msorry about your father.” Partially supporting himself on his crutches, Carter held the front door open.

I walked through, keeping my gaze on the floor. I didn’t want him to see my eyes. I didn’t need him to read more into my soul than I was ready to share.

“He’s barely my father. I haven’t talked to him in years.”

“Not even since the fire?” he asked.

“No,” I said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t ask what I knew he desperately wanted to know: why I’d taken the blame.

“My mother threw Father out of the house nine years ago.” Please drop this, I pleaded inside.

“Do you think she cheated on him the way he accused?”

“I honestly don’t know, Carter. I think I’ll just head to bed. I’m tired. Goodnight.” I waved at him and retreated to my room. I didn’t mean to be rude, but the evening had drained me, and I had an early shift in the morning. To be honest, I needed to retreat to my room because I was afraid that Carter would dig deeper. If he did, if he ever found out the truth about the kind of family I came from, he’d run as far away from me as he could.

I braced myself over the bathroom sink and slowly looked up in the mirror. My eyes were shadowed with fear. My mental exhaustion overpowered my body, slowing my movements and shutting me down. If I made it to bed it one piece, I’d call it a successful night.

I quickly brushed my teeth, put on my pajamas, and lay down on top of the covers. Tired, I took a deep breath, pushing the day away to the back of my mind. I wished for a simpler life, and I was desperately trying to create one by having a stable career, moving away from home, and staying clear of him, but here we were. One hundred miles away from Hope Bay, and I happened to pick the restaurant Father apparently worked at.

I’m never going back there again.

My eyelids felt heavy and my body completely spent. Ready to be sent off to dreamland, I had just closed my eyes when the sound of loud clatter echoed from the living room, followed by a few course words. Fearing the worst, I shot off the bed and, half-asleep, dashed through my door and into the hallway.

“What happened?” I might have only run a few feet, but it felt like I’d just completed a marathon.

“Nothing. I just knocked the remote off the table.”

Sitting on the sofa, Carter was fumbling with his pants, having a hard time removing the jeans. With his limited mobility, I wondered how he’d gotten the tight pants on in the first place.

Tired, I pointed to his jeans. “Need some help with that? Why didn’t you wear your sweats tonight? They’re easier to manage.”

“I was tired of sweats, and… I wanted to look nice for a change… for you.”

Did he just blush?

“If I can’t get these off, I’m going to cut them off. Do you know where the scissors are?”

The jeans definitely fit him well, but Carter had refused my help each time I offered in the past. The superhero wanted to do everything on his own, like a stubborn child. And I let him. It was a good thing that I wasn’t planning on having any children in the future; otherwise, I would have failed as a mother. Watching him fumble with the pants now, I never realized the extent of trouble he was having with the clothing — extremely tight clothing, to be exact. During the day, when dressed, he hid his immobility well, just like he’d hidden his sorrows in the past. While I admired his will and determination, his stubbornness it seemed had no limits.

“All right, cut them off, then.” I perched on the edge of the dining table and crossed my arms, waiting.

“You’re going to stand there and watch, aren’t you?”

If he refused to learn how to ask for help when he needed it, I’d have to teach him to ask.

“Of course,” I shrugged. Had I actually been tired earlier? Because now, as I waited to see what he’d do, it felt as if I had gallons of adrenaline pumping through my veins.

“Just don’t laugh, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Anticipating his curse words – when Carter swore, it sounded very sexy – I held back my chuckle. I didn’t normally like men who swore, but hearing such language from Carter’s mouth set my body on fire.

Weird.

When he cursed, it wasn’t directed at me or at anyone else — it was his own frustration flying out of his mouth. To be truthful, I was more anxious to see him remove his jeans and sit on the couch in his boxer-briefs so that I could admire his physique. As a firefighter, Carter had the body of a model, though his was even more perfect. His muscles were natural and not fed by protein shakes but meat – solid meat that transformed his body into massive muscular chunks that flexed with each twist and move.

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