The Road to Reunion. GINA WILKINS

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The Road to Reunion - GINA  WILKINS


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that she would have any reason to visit Kyle again after she left today.

      It made her sad to think she would never see him again—so she decided to be optimistic, instead. After all, there was still a chance—however slim—that he would change his mind about attending the party.

      Kyle escorted his friend to the front door, stepping out to chat for a few more minutes on the front porch. Molly couldn’t hear what they were saying, nor did she try to listen in.

      Meeting Mack had made her feel a little better about Kyle, in some ways. Kyle had seemed so alone before; she was glad to know he had someone nearby who cared about him. And whom he obviously cared about in return. Despite his gruffness, he hadn’t been able to completely hide his fondness for Mack McDooley.

      She understood a little better now why Kyle was so grim. Not only had he been seriously injured and forced to leave his chosen career, but he’d lost his best friend at the same time. It was no wonder he was angry with life in general just now.

      Yet he had chosen to settle near his friend’s parents, so he hadn’t been able to cut himself off entirely from other people. Obviously, it had been a beneficial arrangement for all of them.

      “I like him,” she said when Kyle came back inside and the sound of Mack’s car engine faded into the distance.

      “He’s a good man,” Kyle said simply. “And his wife really is a jewel.”

      “You were close to their son.” It wasn’t a question, but her tone invited him to tell her about his friend if he wanted to.

      Kyle picked up the mug Mack had left on the coffee table. “He was the closest I ever came to having a brother.”

      She swallowed, a little surprised he’d opened up even that much to her. “I’m sorry you lost him.”

      He was silent for a long moment, perhaps to make sure his voice was uninflected when he said, “So am I.”

      Without looking at her again, he carried the mug into the kitchen.

      Remembering the two smiling friends in the photograph, Molly didn’t try to follow him immediately. The sizable lump in her throat made it doubtful that she’d have been able to speak steadily just then, herself.

      Kyle wasn’t in any hurry to return to the living room where Molly waited. Though he was usually able to hold his emotions tightly reined around other people, seeing her looking at that photograph of him and Tommy with such sadness on her face had triggered his own grief again. He’d been able to push it back down, but it had taken a massive effort. He needed a few minutes to make sure the emotional barriers were firmly back in place before he rejoined her.

      Before he could decide whether enough time had passed, she came to him.

      “Is there anything I can do?” she asked, standing in the doorway watching him too intently for comfort.

      Though he was well aware she wasn’t talking about housework, he shook his head. “I’ve got everything cleared away in here. But thanks, anyway.”

      She bit her lower lip, and he found himself aching to smooth the faint marks her teeth left. With his own lips. Which only went to show, he thought in disgust, that he wasn’t nearly as much in control of himself as he had hoped. Standing here wanting to kiss Molly Walker? Apparently he had temporarily lost his mind.

      He had the odd sensation that the air was slowly escaping the room, leaving it hard for him to breathe. He tugged at the neckline of his gray sweatshirt. Glancing toward the windows, he cleared his throat. “Morning’s slipping away.”

      She looked at her watch, then nodded slowly. “I suppose I should get on the road. It’s a long drive back to the ranch.”

      “Too far for you to be making the trip by yourself,” he grumbled, genuinely concerned at the thought of her making that long drive alone. But what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

      “I’ll be all right. I’ve got a car charger for my cell phone in case the battery goes dead, and a credit card for gas and expenses. My car’s in good shape, and the tires are brand-new. The only thing that doesn’t work is the radio, and I’ve got plenty of CDs.”

      CDs and a credit card, and she thought she was prepared for anything. Hell.

      “Call your brother as soon as you get a cell phone signal,” he ordered her. “Let him keep track of your progress this time.”

      She nodded. “I will. Kyle—”

      He braced for the question he knew was coming.

      “Won’t you please reconsider coming to the party? It would only be for a few hours, and it would mean a lot to my parents. It would mean a lot to me, too,” she added softly, her eyes so dark with emotion they were almost emerald.

      It was more difficult to say it each time, but he managed to get the words out. “No, Molly. I can’t.”

      “You can’t stay up here brooding forever. Even Mack thinks it would be good for you to get away for a few days.”

      Not for the first time, it occurred to him that she was either the most courageous or most foolhardy woman he’d ever met. Didn’t she know that wounded strays were likely to lash out at anyone who reached out to them? If she had cornered him like this only a couple of months earlier, she’d have been lucky to escape unscathed.

      Fortunately, he’d recovered somewhat since then— both physically and emotionally—so he simply gave her a cool look and said, “I know best what’s good for me.”

      Her lips twisted into a little smile that looked very sad. “I’m sure you believe that.”

      She’d always had a tender heart. He remembered how easily she had cried as a child—rarely for herself, that he remembered, but usually when someone else had been hurt or upset. Now she’d apparently decided that he deserved her sympathy. He could almost feel his male ego shriveling in response to the pity he was afraid he saw in her eyes.

      But, because she was Molly, he couldn’t be angry with her. Anyone else, maybe—but not her. “I’ll help you carry your bags, out,” he offered, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

      She seemed to give herself a little shake. “I only have one. I can handle it.”

      He remained where he was when she turned to go collect her things. She would be on her way very shortly. And then his life could get back to normal. And he was not sitting up here “brooding,” he assured himself with a touch of defiance. He stayed busy. He worked out, he did repairs on the house, he read and researched possible paths for his future.

      He had offers—Mack was urging him rather persistently to join him in the rental business, for example. Or he could go back to school on the military’s tab, studying anything that interested him.

      Maybe he had gotten a raw deal, but he wasn’t brooding and he didn’t need her to rescue him. It was bad enough that Mack and Jewel fretted over him so much, a situation he tolerated only because he knew they needed to do so.

      No, he had enough people in his life for now. Molly had plenty of others to cater to her—her parents, her brother and his family, all those aunts, uncles and cousins he remembered, the other foster boys who had probably all stayed close to the Walker family.

      She probably had a boyfriend. A lover, he corrected himself, belatedly remembering her age. At least one, considering the way she looked. Hell, guys were probably lined up at her door.

      It must have been a new experience for her to have to drive across two and a half states to practically beg a man to visit her.

      Her green overnight bag was slung over her shoulder, and her car keys were in her hand. She was going. And the fact that his first instinct was to throw himself in front of the door to bar her way was proof that she wasn’t leaving too soon.

      “You’ll be careful?” He tried to speak brusquely, but he wasn’t sure he


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