He shoved aside the paperwork and stood, stretched his back, and decided to go take a look out in the shop. Sitting at his desk gave him too much time to think, mainly about things he shouldn’t be thinking about.

Diving headfirst into an engine or body repair would clear his head, and that’s just what he needed on a day like today.

MOLLY PARKED GEORGE in the driveway of her parents’ house, needing a few minutes to catch her breath before she went inside to face the hordes.

Catching up with Emma had been fun, but she had to admit she’d been distracted, her thoughts straying to her meeting with Carter yesterday.

Of all the people she hadn’t wanted to run into, she’d walked outside the bakery to find him leaning over her car.

He’d looked good. No, he’d looked hot, with jeans that fit his oh-so-fine ass perfectly, a polo shirt that defined his muscled biceps. He was lean and fit, and he wore his dark hair shorter than he had in high school, but those green eyes of his still mesmerized her.

And he’d been . . . nice. How dare he be nice to her, after what he’d done?

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs, and even now—a day later—she still found it hard to breathe when she thought about him. As she’d driven over here, she was afraid she was going to run into him, which was ridiculous. Hope was a small town, but it wasn’t that small.

She needed to get a grip or her mother, who was observant of all things, was going to notice. Then she’d get questioned incessantly, and she wouldn’t be able to deal with it.

She took several deep breaths, relying on her yoga training to calm herself inwardly and block out the negative.

It wasn’t really working, because every time she closed her eyes, Carter’s face swam before her.

She was just going to have to fake it as best she could and hope the impending wedding extravaganza stuff would take precedence over any of her peculiar behavior. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was used to her being around anyway. How would they know what was normal for her these days?

She opened the front door into a house filled with people. Aunts and uncles had arrived, as well as Emma’s friends, Chelsea and Jane.

Home. She had grown up here, yet it didn’t feel like her home anymore. Too much time had passed, and even though so many things looked familiar to her, like the fireplace where she and Emma used to sit and sing together, and the kitchen table where they’d eat breakfast before school, a lot had changed. There was new carpet and new living room furniture, and Mom had changed the paint scheme on some of the walls.

Life goes on without you, Molly. Deal with it.

“Molly, you’re here!”

Her mother hurried over, a bright smile on her face.

Her mother’s love and smiles, however, would never change, and she was so grateful for that.

Molly dropped several boxes of donuts on the kitchen counter along with the foam cup filled with coffee she’d picked up at Megan’s shop this morning.

Her mother grasped her hands. “Let me look at you.”

“You just saw me a month ago when you came to visit.”

“Shh. I know that. But I still miss you every day.” Her mom gave her the once-over. “You look beautiful, as always.”

Molly laughed. “Thanks, Mom. You’re good for my ego.”

Her parents’ dog, Pokey, a miniature dachshund, came over to sniff her.

“Hey, Pokey, how’s it going?” She bent down to love on the dog, picking him up to hold him. Her parents brought Pokey along whenever they came to visit, so she had a little taste of having a pet whenever she saw them, since most of the apartments where she lived didn’t allow animals.

“He’s happy to see you.”

She ran her fingers over Pokey’s back. “I’m happy to see him, too. And everyone else. The house is full of people.”

“Come on, put the dog down and say hello to everyone.”

Not that she’d have a choice, since her mother firmly held her hand and dragged her around like she was eight years old. She listened to the admonishments of her aunts about how it had been way too long since she’d been back in Hope, and was firmly hugged by her uncles.

When she had endured enough, she kissed her mom on the cheek, then headed out back where Emma, Jane, and Chelsea were enjoying coffee.

“Hi, everyone.”

“Molly. It’s so great to see you. It’s been too long.” Chelsea got up to give her a hug, and Jane, did, too.

“It’s great to see you both,” Molly said. This part, at least, was easy. She might not have seen Chelsea and Jane for a long time, but they’d talked a lot on the phone and Skyped over wedding details the past several months, so it was nice to be able to sit down with them in person.

“I see you already got yours,” Emma said as they all took seats.

Molly lifted her cup. “I couldn’t wait, since I was on donut-fetching duty this morning.”

“Lucky you,” Chelsea said. “Emma’s mom called me at seven this morning and gave me a grocery list.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “She did not.”

“She did. Juice and milk and oh, she needed two loaves of bread. She was going to go herself, but there were people at the house and she didn’t want to be rude.”

Emma snorted. “I’m surprised I didn’t get that list. And I’m really sorry she just assumed you’d run errands for her. I’ll talk to her.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You’re the bride, honey,” Chelsea said. “We’re the minions. It was no problem, and the store’s on my way over here.”

Emma blew out a breath. “Thank you. This will all be over soon. I promise.”

“Is the stress getting to you?” Molly asked.

“Just the past week or so. It had been fairly calm and organized before that, but now it seems as if there’s some crisis, or some detail that needs attending to every day.”

“It has been intense, Emma, but you have to trust us all,” Jane said. “We’ll take care of it. We have taken care of everything so far, haven’t we?”

Now Molly felt even guiltier that she hadn’t been here for all those details. She should have never agreed to be the maid of honor. She sucked at this. She hadn’t even come to the wedding shower. Chelsea and Jane had been lifesavers, handling everything in Molly’s absence and telling her not to worry that she couldn’t make it.




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