only thing he knew to say. She was right. Until he broke things off with his long-distance high school sweetheart, he had no business kissing Molly Allen. For now, though, if this was what it took to convince her to stay at Belmont, he wasn’t really sorry at all. “I’m really sorry, Molly.”
“Are you?” She was still breathing fast, as caught up in the wanting and fighting their forbidden attraction as he was. “Are you sorry about this?”
His answer didn’t come in words. He took her again in his arms and kissed her the way he hadalways wanted to kiss her. With all the romance of a character from one of their favorite books. He still wondered what would’ve happened next, how far things might have gone. But a few minutes later, he caught someone moving in the upstairs window at the back of her house.
“The staff.” He gasped the words and moved quickly away from her. “Molly.” He nodded toward the window. “You said they were out for the night.”
She followed his gaze, and as she did, they watched a light turn off inside the house. Fear flashed like lightning across Molly’s face. “Do you think they saw us?”
“I’m not sure.” He wanted to say who cared what the staff saw, wanted to draw her close again and pick up where they’d left off. But he respected her too much for that. “Would they tell your dad?”
“Definitely.” She glanced around, clearly searching for a way out. “You need to leave.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. “I can’t give my parents another reason to send me home.”
For a long moment he hesitated. Did it really matter what her parents thought or what her father threatened? She was old enough to make her own decisions.Ryan felt frustrated to the depths of his being. He could only try to understood a little of Molly’s pressures. She’d answered to her father all her life—that much was obvious. But if he knew Molly at all, someday she would find a way to stand on her own. Even if, for now, her determination to please her father overpowered her own dreams.
Ryan blinked, the memory of her kiss lodged in some locked-up corner of his heart. Always when he looked back, he could peg that backyard embrace to the beginning of the end. He put the book back on the shelf, face out. Jane never knew what would happen next. So the only change Molly could’ve been referring to at the back of his copy had to be the one he couldn’t refute.
The change in her heart.
C HA P T E R F I V E
T hat night after their kiss Molly hurried him to the side gate. In the shadows he hugged her, holding on as long as he could. “You said to give you a reason.” He touched her cheek, feeling the urgency of the situation. “Give me time, Molly. Don’t leave.”
A quick nod, and she checked over his shoulder. “We’ll talk tomorrow. At The Bridge.”
But the next day, before classes, Ryan’s cell phone rang. The memory of the phone call still made his stomach hurt. The man was gruff from the beginning. “Is this Ryan Kelly?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t quite seven in the morning, and Ryan had been rushing around his room gathering homework for class. He stopped and stared at the phone. The caller ID was blocked. “Who’s this?”
“Wade Allen. I’m Molly’s father.” He sounded disgusted. “Look, I know about last night.”
Ryan stopped short. “What?” Was this really happening? Molly’s father calling him? Why would the man be awake at this hour? “How’d you get my number?”
“That’s none of your business.” He barely paused. His voice was clipped and pronounced, the talk of an agitated and highly educated man. “Look, I know you have feelings for my daughter. But I’d like to ask you, man to man, to think about Molly and not yourself.”
“You don’t know her.” Sudden venom spewed from Ryan’s voice. How dare her father do this, call and try to manipulate him. “She doesn’t want to work for you.”
“Listen to me, young
“Are you?” She was still breathing fast, as caught up in the wanting and fighting their forbidden attraction as he was. “Are you sorry about this?”
His answer didn’t come in words. He took her again in his arms and kissed her the way he hadalways wanted to kiss her. With all the romance of a character from one of their favorite books. He still wondered what would’ve happened next, how far things might have gone. But a few minutes later, he caught someone moving in the upstairs window at the back of her house.
“The staff.” He gasped the words and moved quickly away from her. “Molly.” He nodded toward the window. “You said they were out for the night.”
She followed his gaze, and as she did, they watched a light turn off inside the house. Fear flashed like lightning across Molly’s face. “Do you think they saw us?”
“I’m not sure.” He wanted to say who cared what the staff saw, wanted to draw her close again and pick up where they’d left off. But he respected her too much for that. “Would they tell your dad?”
“Definitely.” She glanced around, clearly searching for a way out. “You need to leave.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. “I can’t give my parents another reason to send me home.”
For a long moment he hesitated. Did it really matter what her parents thought or what her father threatened? She was old enough to make her own decisions.Ryan felt frustrated to the depths of his being. He could only try to understood a little of Molly’s pressures. She’d answered to her father all her life—that much was obvious. But if he knew Molly at all, someday she would find a way to stand on her own. Even if, for now, her determination to please her father overpowered her own dreams.
Ryan blinked, the memory of her kiss lodged in some locked-up corner of his heart. Always when he looked back, he could peg that backyard embrace to the beginning of the end. He put the book back on the shelf, face out. Jane never knew what would happen next. So the only change Molly could’ve been referring to at the back of his copy had to be the one he couldn’t refute.
The change in her heart.
C HA P T E R F I V E
T hat night after their kiss Molly hurried him to the side gate. In the shadows he hugged her, holding on as long as he could. “You said to give you a reason.” He touched her cheek, feeling the urgency of the situation. “Give me time, Molly. Don’t leave.”
A quick nod, and she checked over his shoulder. “We’ll talk tomorrow. At The Bridge.”
But the next day, before classes, Ryan’s cell phone rang. The memory of the phone call still made his stomach hurt. The man was gruff from the beginning. “Is this Ryan Kelly?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t quite seven in the morning, and Ryan had been rushing around his room gathering homework for class. He stopped and stared at the phone. The caller ID was blocked. “Who’s this?”
“Wade Allen. I’m Molly’s father.” He sounded disgusted. “Look, I know about last night.”
Ryan stopped short. “What?” Was this really happening? Molly’s father calling him? Why would the man be awake at this hour? “How’d you get my number?”
“That’s none of your business.” He barely paused. His voice was clipped and pronounced, the talk of an agitated and highly educated man. “Look, I know you have feelings for my daughter. But I’d like to ask you, man to man, to think about Molly and not yourself.”
“You don’t know her.” Sudden venom spewed from Ryan’s voice. How dare her father do this, call and try to manipulate him. “She doesn’t want to work for you.”
“Listen to me, young
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