“I bought it last year. I needed something for hauling and towing. Rhonda’s not exactly good for things like that.”
She climbed in and settled in the ample seat. “Understandable.”
She fished her phone out of her purse. “I’m going to call my dad and let him know you’re driving me. He was worried about George’s current state.”
“I can see why.”
Ignoring him, she pushed the button and her dad answered after three rings. “Hey, Dad. How’s Mom doing?”
“She’s fine. Propped up on multiple pillows in the living room and giving me orders. And a list.”
That made her smile because it sounded normal for her mother. “Good.”
“How’s the car?”
“Really broken. A fuel pump and injector thing that’s going to require parts and a few days to repair. But Carter offered to drive me to Austin in his truck.”
“I’m glad to hear that. So you’re set, then?”
“Yes, I’m set. I should be back sometime tomorrow. I’ll give you a call when we’re on the way back home.”
“Okay, honey. Don’t worry about anything here. The nurse has already been by, and your mom’s doing fine.”
“All right. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too.”
She hung up, feeling a lot better about things. She tucked her phone back in her purse.
“Everything okay at home? How’s your mom feeling?”
“She’s doing fine. Thanks for asking.”
He hit the turnpike and headed south. Now she just had to endure the miles and what she was certain was going to be endless, uncomfortable silence.
“Tell me about your job, Molly.”
She turned her head. “My job?”
“The one you have to leave in Austin.”
“Oh. I work . . . or I worked . . . for a music company.”
“What kind of a music company?”
“It was an independent label.”
“Oh, so a record company.”
“Yes.”
The sun had moved out from behind the clouds, so he grabbed his sunglasses and slid them on. They made him look sexy. If she were honest with herself, Carter always looked sexy. He wore his hair short, except the top was a little long. Her fingers ached to tangle through the thickness of it, to find out if it was still as soft as she remembered.
“What kind of music?”
She pulled out her sunglasses and put them on. “They’re a pretty eclectic label. Rock, pop, folk, some R&B. They had some great artists.”
“And what did you do for them?”
“A little accounting. A lot of marketing. I was just getting started, really. Delia—that’s who I worked for—she’s great and gave me a lot of latitude on the marketing side of things. Unfortunately, since I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, she has to replace me.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah. But I’ll just find something else when it’s time to hit the road again.”
She thought he’d say something about her staying in Hope, but he didn’t, which was good. Because she wasn’t going to.
“By the way,” he said, “I talked to the committee and rescheduled the meeting for next week.”
“That’s great. Thanks.”
“The meeting is Wednesday night. Hopefully you’ll be able to make it. Several people expressed concern about your mom having to drop out for now.” He changed lanes, then gave her a quick look. “She’s been the one who’s been getting things done.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Okay, good.”
He went quiet then, and so did she. He turned on the radio, setting the station.
She shot him a look. “You still listen to the Beach Boys? Really?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“They’re a little . . . seventies.”
“Again, what’s wrong with that?”
She shook her head. “There’s been a lot of great music made in the last forty years, you know.”
He cranked up the volume and shot her a half smile. “Not like this.”
No wonder he named his car Rhonda.
She took out her phone and made a note about the meeting on Wednesday so she wouldn’t forget. Emma would be back next weekend, and she’d have to call her as soon as she got back and fill her in about Mom. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, but she was sleeping better at night knowing Emma and Luke were having a great honeymoon. Besides, there wasn’t anything Emma could have done if they’d cut their honeymoon short. Her sister deserved this. Molly had been the one to stay away all these years. Emma had been gone several years as well, attending school and working out of town, but for the past couple of years she’d been home. And if it hadn’t been lousy timing, Emma would have been the one at home dealing with this.
Molly wondered if she would have come back from Austin if Emma had called her to tell her Mom had had an accident. She hadn’t come home for anything in the past. She’d like to think she would have for this, but every time she’d thought about a visit home, panic had set in.
And now she sat in Carter’s truck, about to spend two days with him. She was tolerating it, and so was he.
Actually, she was more than tolerating it. They seemed to have reached a sort of peace between them. Maybe she’d said what needed to be said, and now that it was out of her system, she could move on. It didn’t mean she was going to move home or anything, but maybe now that she could be in his company, she didn’t have to be so afraid to be around Hope again. Around Carter again.
Though as she took a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but notice the way his jeans fit to his muscular thighs, how he’d rolled up his long-sleeved shirt to his elbows, and the crisp dark hairs on his forearms. She even noticed the way he gripped the steering wheel, her gaze gravitating toward his hands.
He’d always had great hands. She could still recall the way they’d glided over her naked skin. He had learned every secret to her body, knew how to elicit a response from her.
She let out a sigh.
“Okay over there? You need me to stop?”
She needed to stop remembering what it felt like to be touched by him. “No. I’m fine.”