It hadn’t made her feel any better. If anything, she’d felt worse than ever before.
“You don’t have to work with me, Molly. I know how hard that’ll be for you. I can make other arrangements.”
Now she did look up. “I’ll do it. Because my mom needs me to, and I need her not to feel stressed about anything right now. I think the two of us can figure out how to move around in the same circle without . . .”
“Feeling anything?”
She didn’t know if those were the right words. Certainly not for her, because she’d always felt something for Carter. She likely always would. That’s why she couldn’t live here. Because she felt so much.
“Right,” she said.
“I’ll do my best not to feel anything when I’m around you.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“But I’m not going to guarantee it’ll work, because I’ve always felt something for you, Moll.”
She was about to object, but their waitress brought the food. And then Carter dug in and ate, as if what he’d just said hadn’t meant a thing.
So typical.
“Tell me about the town square thing.”
He scooped up a forkful of rice, chewed and swallowed, then followed that up with iced tea before laying down his fork. “Your mom spearheaded the project and got it off the ground, gathering the city council’s cooperation and go ahead, then badgering business leaders into donating funds. She’s done everything in her power over the past year to revitalize the town square and fountain, Molly. I’m sure you know better than anyone that once your mother gets an idea into her head, she’ll do anything to make it happen.”
Molly nodded. “She is rather dedicated to a cause.”
“The fountain has lain dormant for years. You remember what it was like when we were kids. There was a play area, and all the kids splashed through the fountain. When it rusted and stopped working, no one repaired it and it just sat there, looking ugly. Your mother wanted it fixed and the whole town square revitalized. She organized a volunteer committee.”
Molly listened while she ate. She pointed her fork at him. “And you’re on said committee.”
“Yeah. Georgia asked me to participate. It was something worth doing, so I joined in.”
She cocked her head to the side and gave him a look.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m . . . surprised.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. You involved in city politics?”
“It’s not politics. It’s a revitalization project. Trust me, I stay away from politics.”
She wiped her mouth with her napkin, then set her plate to the side. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It seems to me there’s some political maneuvering in getting funding for a project like this.”
“Your mother was the one who pressured local businesses—as well as the city—to provide the necessary funding.”
“Now that I believe. But still, you’re involved.”
“I am a local business owner, Molly. It’s in my best interest to make Hope as desirable a city as possible. Aesthetically as well as in other areas. You bring more people to Hope, I get more business as well.”
“I see your point.” She supposed she just couldn’t reconcile the boy she’d once known—and loved—with the man he now was. She was going to have to try and wrap her head around who Carter was now, not who he used to be. He’d remained a figure in her head. Sweet, charming, and oh so sexy, in that boyish, teenage way he’d had about him.
The man sitting across the table from her was completely different. There was a confident air about him that hadn’t been present when he was younger. Sure, he’d been cocky back then, but that was high school bravado. He’d been popular in school. He’d played baseball and basketball so he’d been one of the jocks, always a favorite with the girls. Why he’d gravitated toward her, she’d had no idea, since she hadn’t played sports at all. She’d been more into drama club and music and books, but they’d shared some classes, and he’d started talking to her. And God, she’d fallen hard for his eyes and his mouth and then they’d begun studying together, which had grown into watching movies and generally hanging out, and that had been the end for her.
They’d spent every day together and she learned about baseball and basketball. She’d never liked sports much, but she learned to like it. He claimed not to be into plays and musicals, but he went to every one of her plays and her choir concerts. They meshed. And they fell in love.
He was her first love. She gave him her virginity—so easily, and without regret. He never made silly promises to her about how he was going to love her forever. He just loved her. And she loved him back.
And for three years it had been magical. Until she got pregnant.
That’s when it all changed. She panicked, and so did he. They scrambled, hastily figuring out plans. They discussed abortion. She was graduating early. She had a scholarship. She wanted to go to college. So did he. This was going to change everything.
But in the end, she couldn’t do it, and he respected her decision. They were determined to make it work. They’d get married. They were in love. He’d put off college and continue to work at the garage. She’d work part-time until the baby was born. Their parents would help out—as soon as both of them got up the nerve to actually tell them.
“You don’t have to work with me, Molly. I know how hard that’ll be for you. I can make other arrangements.”
Now she did look up. “I’ll do it. Because my mom needs me to, and I need her not to feel stressed about anything right now. I think the two of us can figure out how to move around in the same circle without . . .”
“Feeling anything?”
She didn’t know if those were the right words. Certainly not for her, because she’d always felt something for Carter. She likely always would. That’s why she couldn’t live here. Because she felt so much.
“Right,” she said.
“I’ll do my best not to feel anything when I’m around you.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“But I’m not going to guarantee it’ll work, because I’ve always felt something for you, Moll.”
She was about to object, but their waitress brought the food. And then Carter dug in and ate, as if what he’d just said hadn’t meant a thing.
So typical.
“Tell me about the town square thing.”
He scooped up a forkful of rice, chewed and swallowed, then followed that up with iced tea before laying down his fork. “Your mom spearheaded the project and got it off the ground, gathering the city council’s cooperation and go ahead, then badgering business leaders into donating funds. She’s done everything in her power over the past year to revitalize the town square and fountain, Molly. I’m sure you know better than anyone that once your mother gets an idea into her head, she’ll do anything to make it happen.”
Molly nodded. “She is rather dedicated to a cause.”
“The fountain has lain dormant for years. You remember what it was like when we were kids. There was a play area, and all the kids splashed through the fountain. When it rusted and stopped working, no one repaired it and it just sat there, looking ugly. Your mother wanted it fixed and the whole town square revitalized. She organized a volunteer committee.”
Molly listened while she ate. She pointed her fork at him. “And you’re on said committee.”
“Yeah. Georgia asked me to participate. It was something worth doing, so I joined in.”
She cocked her head to the side and gave him a look.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m . . . surprised.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. You involved in city politics?”
“It’s not politics. It’s a revitalization project. Trust me, I stay away from politics.”
She wiped her mouth with her napkin, then set her plate to the side. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It seems to me there’s some political maneuvering in getting funding for a project like this.”
“Your mother was the one who pressured local businesses—as well as the city—to provide the necessary funding.”
“Now that I believe. But still, you’re involved.”
“I am a local business owner, Molly. It’s in my best interest to make Hope as desirable a city as possible. Aesthetically as well as in other areas. You bring more people to Hope, I get more business as well.”
“I see your point.” She supposed she just couldn’t reconcile the boy she’d once known—and loved—with the man he now was. She was going to have to try and wrap her head around who Carter was now, not who he used to be. He’d remained a figure in her head. Sweet, charming, and oh so sexy, in that boyish, teenage way he’d had about him.
The man sitting across the table from her was completely different. There was a confident air about him that hadn’t been present when he was younger. Sure, he’d been cocky back then, but that was high school bravado. He’d been popular in school. He’d played baseball and basketball so he’d been one of the jocks, always a favorite with the girls. Why he’d gravitated toward her, she’d had no idea, since she hadn’t played sports at all. She’d been more into drama club and music and books, but they’d shared some classes, and he’d started talking to her. And God, she’d fallen hard for his eyes and his mouth and then they’d begun studying together, which had grown into watching movies and generally hanging out, and that had been the end for her.
They’d spent every day together and she learned about baseball and basketball. She’d never liked sports much, but she learned to like it. He claimed not to be into plays and musicals, but he went to every one of her plays and her choir concerts. They meshed. And they fell in love.
He was her first love. She gave him her virginity—so easily, and without regret. He never made silly promises to her about how he was going to love her forever. He just loved her. And she loved him back.
And for three years it had been magical. Until she got pregnant.
That’s when it all changed. She panicked, and so did he. They scrambled, hastily figuring out plans. They discussed abortion. She was graduating early. She had a scholarship. She wanted to go to college. So did he. This was going to change everything.
But in the end, she couldn’t do it, and he respected her decision. They were determined to make it work. They’d get married. They were in love. He’d put off college and continue to work at the garage. She’d work part-time until the baby was born. Their parents would help out—as soon as both of them got up the nerve to actually tell them.
