Chapter 26

Work helped Molly get her feet under her. It always did. Even though Brant had stayed the rest of the night, neither had broached the subject of them as a couple.

In fact, there’d been little talk…and that was okay.

They’d needed each other last night, and that was enough.

Her mind today, though, had been an absolute jumble, and she’d basically staggered through the day.

“Lettie, why don’t you go home? Nobody’s coming this late.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Thanks again for covering for me yesterday.”

“Jenni Beth had everything under control.”

“She always does.”

After Lettie left, Molly straightened the last few things.

Five o’clock finally arrived. As she was turning the Open sign to Closed, Brant pulled up on his Harley.

Molly’s mouth went dry.

He straddled the big motorcycle and removed his helmet. Dark glasses hid his fabulous eyes, but she knew they focused on her. Worn jeans and a black leather jacket completed the sexy, bad-boy look.

But Brant Wylder wasn’t bad. Far from it. He was good. Very, very good. And his life had been turned upside down—again.

He opened her door. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Brant took in her short, swingy, long-sleeved dress, the red-and-black print scarf, and the leather boots. He wandered over to a display case. Picking up a shoe, he ran a finger along it, then set it back down.

His silence had her on edge.

“I know the timing is off, with everything that’s happened, and I know you asked for some space, but I need to know. Am I whistlin’ up an empty riverbed?”

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You and me, Mol. Is there a you and me?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Things have been pretty intense these last few weeks. I’ve been on overload, and you’ve been scrambling, too. Seems to me, though, we…”

Brant stopped pacing and leveled his gaze on her. “Guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ll back off if that’s what you want, but you need to tell me. Right out.”

“You confuse me, Brant.”

“Maybe that’s a step in the right direction, sugar.”

“You control. It’s what you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. Out of necessity. You’re used to taking care of everyone—your sister, your mom and dad, even your brothers. To do that, you pick up the reins.”

“I’m handing them over to you.”

“What?”

“The reins. I’m settling you in the driver’s seat. You’re in control, sugar. You decide whether or not we take more time to see what this is between us.”

“I—”

“It’s not the list, Molly, not the timeline. So don’t even hand me that.”

She said nothing.

“You use that as your armor, but it’s nothin’ but smoke and mirrors. The truth? The reason you keep dragging out that list? You’re afraid.”

“What exactly am I afraid of, Mr. Know-it-all?”

“You’re afraid of you. Me. Love.”

She wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. She had no ammunition.

Brant stood his ground. “Here’s what I think. You don’t trust me not to turn into your dad, not to cheat on you the way Keith did, so you’ve built a wall to defend yourself. To keep you safe. That list is your wall.”

Eyes narrowing, he took a step closer. “Here’s what I’m wondering.” He leaned into her. “What are you gonna do when you hit thirty? Hmm? Make a new list? Think about it.”

Without another word, he walked out, quietly closing the door behind him.

Molly stamped her foot. How dare he dump that on her, then walk away? She wanted to scream, to throw something.

Instead, she dropped onto her little blue love seat.

Bull’s-eye.

He’d pierced her armor dead center.

* * *

Brant took a long ride to cool off. Molly had him so twisted up inside, he didn’t know if he was coming or going. That visit to her shop? A dumb move.

But he couldn’t get her out of his head, out of his system.

He had to know where they stood.

Except he still didn’t, did he? He’d made that big speech, then stomped off. He’d had to. He’d been scared to death she’d tell him right out that they were over.

In the morning, he’d take the next step.

Now? Lug Nut was probably walking around cross-legged, waiting to be let out.

Time he headed home. To an empty house.

* * *

Brant was up early. Time for school.

Through Jeremy, he’d found out the high school had a career day planned for the following week and thought it might be interesting to do a session. Without Jax, he had a lot of hours to fill, and he could only spend so many of them at the shop.

While he shaved, his brain kicked into gear. He could show clips from the television programs featuring Wylder Rides along with shots of cars and bikes both during and after restoration. Heck, he might even take in some car parts for the kids to mess with.

The biggest incentive? According to Jeremy, Molly and her friends were on the agenda. He had another reason, one he wasn’t sure the school would buy into, but he intended to put it out there and see if it would fly.

Nothing ventured…

Walking into the weathered brick building, Brant experienced an odd sense of nostalgia. He’d enjoyed high school. The three Wylder boys had all played football and basketball and worn the school colors. But by far, the best part of school was the girls.

The worst had been the time spent sweating it out in the principal’s office. He and his brothers had usually managed to wriggle out of whatever they’d gotten into, but when they didn’t and Mom was called, all hell had broken loose. That woman, as small as she was, could put a guy in his place with one hand tied behind her back, which made the situation with her now that much harder. But she was improving, and Molly had been good for her. She’d reminded his mom that life was still out there to be lived, had turned her from an invalid back into a woman…and however things went down between the two of them, he’d be forever thankful for that.

A quick stop at the office earned him a sticky pass to plaster to his T-shirt, directions to the guidance counselor’s office, and more than one flirtatious glance.

Brant knocked at Mr. Woods’s door.

“Come in.” A fiftyish man stood behind his desk with his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Wylder. I’ve watched some of your programs and enjoyed them.”

“Thanks. I’d have been in sooner, but I didn’t know about your plans until Jeremy Stuckey mentioned them yesterday.”

“Good boy, Jeremy.”

“Yes, he is. He’s been helping me and my brothers pull our new place together.”

“He did the same for Deputy DeLuca,” Woods said.

“Yeah. Sam’s the one who recommended him. The kid’s one heck of a hard worker.”

“You mentioned on the phone you’re interested in taking part in our career day. Let’s talk about that.”

Brant told him what he had in mind.

The counselor was ecstatic, both to have him participate and to include his message about the dangers of drinking and driving. “The kids can’t hear that warning often enough. Someone like you has credibility. They’ll listen to you.”

“I hope so,” Brant said. “You’ll have a setup for video clips and a short slide show?”

“You bet.” Woods rubbed his chin. “You bought Frank’s old station.”

“We did.”

“Maybe you could include some of what you’ve had to do there, the building renovation. Some of our students will undoubtedly end up in that field.”

“I’ll be sure to touch on it.”

Brant turned in his pass at the office and walked back to his car. He had some big plans and a lot to do. He wondered if his room would be close to Molly’s. Maybe she’d be ready to talk to him by then. He grimaced. Shades of high school!

He hadn’t given up on her yet.

He had one more phone call to make—and that might seal the deal, for better or worse.

* * *

Monday rolled around way too fast. Before Brant had his head wrapped around the ramifications of what he’d done, he found himself back at school.

The ladies of Magnolia Brides were there, too, and what a sight they were. He leaned against his open door and watched them walk down the hallway. The boys of Misty Bottoms High would never be the same.

It was Molly, though, who made his heart beat faster with that mass of dark curls, those big brown eyes, and a body that would put a Victoria’s Secret model to shame. Today she wore a tailored black suit. Brant’s fingers itched to undo those three buttons and unzip the pencil skirt, leaving her in nothing but those black stilettos and the simple strand of gold nestled in the jacket’s V-neck.

A totally inappropriate thought. One that put a stupid grin on his face.

Reluctantly, he stepped back into his room.

After he finished setting up, he wandered over to help the women. They’d been assigned the Family and Consumer Science room. Geez, when and why had they stopped calling it Home Ec? Each of the gals had a station, and the kids would rotate through them.

Molly ignored him, while the other three welcomed him, because they really did need another set of hands, hands that could reach higher than theirs.

When they finished, Brant whistled. “Nice job, ladies.”

And it was. They’d spent a lot of time preparing.

Tansy had brought some half-finished cakes to use during her decorating demonstrations. Cricket intended to do a show-and-tell on flower arranging, Jenni Beth would divulge some of the secrets to keeping a bride’s special day organized, and Molly would not only explain the different types of wedding dresses but talk about the business side of her shop.

Brant worried that none of the guys would attend their session, but since they had to stay with their homeroom group for the day, they had no choice. Each time the bell rang, though, they poured out of the room, chatting a mile a minute.

Who knew? Some of these boys might very well follow in the ladies’ footsteps. A baker, a florist, a boutique owner, and an events planner. Lots of talent there. And it didn’t hurt one bit that it came in such exceptional packaging.

* * *

The day went well, but it was a long one. Molly had forgotten the energy level of high-school students. As the last of them left the final presentation, her jaw dropped.

There, at the back of the room, sat her father.

Tansy, coming toward her, frowned. “What’s wrong?” She turned, following Molly’s gaze.

“I don’t know.” Her eyes met her father’s. “Dad? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s perfect.”

She tipped her head. “Why are you here?”

“I came to watch my favorite girl.”

Tansy laid a hand on Molly’s arm. “Do what you need to do. We’ll come back in a few minutes and load our things—yours included, if you want. Go! Talk to him.”

She was vaguely aware of Tansy, Cricket, and Jenni Beth slipping out a side door, but her feet felt leaden.

Her father moved to her, enveloping her in a bear hug. “You make me so proud, honey.”

Molly’s eyes filled. Wrapped in his familiar scent of mint and Old Spice, she couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d last hugged her, told her he was proud of her.

“I love you, little girl.”

“What?”

“I love you, Molly, and I’m sorry I screwed up. Badly.”

Her throat thick, she said, “I love you, too, Daddy.”

Brant passed by the doorway with the quickest of glances, then disappeared around the corner.

Suspicion nagged at her. “Dad, how did you know I’d be here today?”

He hesitated.

“Brant?”

“He has your best interests at heart.”

She made a noncommittal sound. “He keeps sticking his nose in my business.”

“Maybe it’s time someone did.”

She shrugged.

“It’s way past time we talked, past time for an honest, no-holds-barred discussion. I’d like to start by apologizing, sweetie, for all the missed moments, big and small.” He gave her another quick squeeze. “You always seemed so independent. I didn’t think you needed me.”

“FYI? A girl always needs her dad.”

“Understood. You done here, Molly?”

She nodded.

“Why don’t I help you load your things into the car? Then maybe the two of us can go to Dairy Queen for a chocolate malt. Would you like that?”

That nearly broke the dam that held back her tears. He remembered her favorite treat.

“I’d like that very, very much.”

* * *

Over their malts, father and daughter had a heart-to-heart years in the making.

Molly swirled her straw through the thick malt. “Dad, I need to ask something I should have long ago.”

“Why did I leave you and your mother?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been expecting that question for the last fourteen years.” Leaning toward her, he reached across the table and took her hand. “Have you talked to your mother about this?”

“I tried. She gave vague nonanswers, so I quit asking. To be perfectly honest, I was afraid of what she might say…afraid I’d done or hadn’t done something that drove you away.”

“So Brant was right.”

“He had no business telling you that.”

“The man loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t. We—we had words.”

She tried to pull her hand away, but her father held tight. “A big part of the reason for that fight was my fault, wasn’t it?”

She couldn’t answer, didn’t know what to say.

“I’ll take your silence for a yes. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that, little girl. Anything I can do?”

“No.” The hurt rose. “I shut myself off, Dad. Refused to let him in.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. If that were the case, you wouldn’t be hurting now. I think Brant may have scaled those walls.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’ll leave it for the two of you to deal with. I like Brant. He’s not afraid to stand up for the people he loves.” He paused, then said, “I left not because of anything you did or didn’t do, but because your mother asked me to.”

“Why?”

“Before I answer that, I want you to know we both agreed she’d do a better job raising you, that a girl needed her mother.”

“I needed a father, too.”

“Understood. And I let you down. That was unforgiveable.”

“Didn’t you want to spend time with me?”

He gave a mirthless laugh. “In the worst way. But your mother was pretty angry with me and thought it best I stay away for a while. Too much time passed, and by then you were angry with me, too. We drifted apart. My fault. I was the adult.” He met her eyes. “I don’t want any more lost years.”

“Oh, Daddy.” She blinked back tears. “I still don’t understand, though, why Mom asked you to leave.” Reading the hesitation in his eyes, she said, “I’m not thirteen anymore. I can handle whatever the answer is a lot better than I can deal with not knowing.”

When he remained quiet, she prodded. “You promised honesty.”

“I’d been married and divorced before I met your mother.”

“You were married to somebody else?”

He nodded. “I didn’t tell her. Not because I was ashamed of it or trying to hide it, but the timing never seemed right. Then things got rolling, and I decided to let sleeping dogs lie. That was a mistake. A big one.”

Molly sat back in her chair, slipping her hand from her father’s and breaking the connection. All these years, she’d assumed her dad had cheated or hadn’t loved them enough or loved someone else more, or worse, she hadn’t been the child he wanted.

But this? Never.

Her dad cleared his throat. “Your mother felt betrayed. I broke trust with her. When she asked me to leave, I did, figuring it would blow over and she’d let me come home. It didn’t, and she didn’t.”

“Do I have any brothers or sisters?”

“No. Anne and I never had any children.”

“Her name was Anne?”

“Anne Beacham.”

Molly chewed her lower lip. “How long were you married?”

“Five years.”

“More than just a weekend mistake.”

“It was, and your mother couldn’t forgive I’d kept it a secret, couldn’t quit wondering what else I hid.” He raised shattered eyes to hers.

Molly slid her hand into his.

“Your mom never remarried, and that breaks my heart. I want her to be happy.”

“You never got married again, either.”

He gave her a sad smile. “I still love your mother. Don’t make the same mistake, sweetie. When you find the one you love, grab him and hang on.”

Reverting to small talk, they finished their malts, then she kissed him goodbye and waved as he headed back to Savannah.

Brant had interfered again. Instead of being angry, though, she was grateful. Without him stepping in, she and her dad might never have gotten around to the truth.

Like a tongue plaguing a sore tooth, part of her brain refused to let go of her parents’ strange, sad story. How could her mother have been so closed-minded? Why hadn’t her dad told her about his ex-wife sooner?

It all came down to trust.

She had a lot to think about. Brant had accused her of not trusting. Maybe the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.

Pulling behind her boutique to unload, Molly wrapped her arms around the wedding gowns she’d taken for display.

Hearing her, Lettie opened the back door. “How’d it go?”

“Wonderfully! Even the boys enjoyed it. The girls? Over the moon. My guess is there’ll be lots of dreams about weddings tonight in Misty Bottoms.”

“That’s good, as long as they remember to head here for their dresses.” Not one to beat around the bush, Lettie asked, “Brant there?”

“Across the hall from us, and he had those kids glued to his every word. Every boy there wanted to be him, and every girl there wanted him.”

Lettie guffawed. “Something’s put a little extra sparkle in those eyes of yours.”

Molly hung two of the gowns, and then, a third bagged one in her hands, she dropped onto the love seat. “My dad came to our last presentation. Brant arranged it.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“No, me either.” Molly sighed. “Dad took me for a malt afterward.”

“Oh, honey.” Lettie sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I know how much that means to you.”

“We had the talk we should have had years and years ago.”

The huge weight she’d carried for so long slowly dissolved. Brant had walked out after their fight, but he hadn’t quit caring. And wasn’t that a wonderful thing?

She and Lettie sat quietly for a few minutes, then Molly asked, “How’d things go here?”

“Beautifully. I sold two nighties, a pair of shoes, one of those pretty little clips for the hair, and you have an appointment for a wedding gown.”

“Not bad, Superwoman.”