His heavy-lidded gaze met hers. “My pleasure.”

She ran a hand through her hair, wondering how bad she looked. The damp washcloth had probably left her hair standing on end and her makeup in dark circles beneath her eyes. It couldn’t be pretty but Hunter didn’t seem to be running for cover, she thought wryly.

“I guess we should get up,” she said halfheartedly and didn’t make an attempt to move.

“How about we talk first instead?” He levered himself against the pillows as if settling in for a long conversation.

Her defenses immediately went on high alert. “About?” she asked warily.

There were any number of subjects he could choose to tackle, from her lie about her father and Sonya, to Ty’s news about her father’s case. Coming off the migraine, Molly wasn’t ready to have an argument with him.

“Your clothes. Why are they packed away in the closet?”

She blinked. “What? Why in the world would you care about that?”

“Back when we were in law school, do you know why I noticed you in the first place?”

She shook her head. She only knew why she’d noticed him. Like her, he’d been the one to close the law library night after night. His study habits and determination to succeed had matched hers. That, and his brooding good looks.

“It might have had something to do with the miniskirts you wore to class.” He tipped his head and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She grinned. “When we started classes it was ninety something degrees!”

“It also might have had something to do with the hot colors you wore on top. Or the matching bright colored scarves you tied around your neck or your waist. No matter what outfit you wore, you had one piece that stood out in a bold color. When you walked into a room, you made a statement.”

She knew where he was going with this conversation and she didn’t want to talk about how she’d changed since last year. She also knew he wasn’t going to let the subject drop. “Color is fun,” she said defensively.

“Then why have you buried your more colorful things in a suitcase in the closet?”

“My headache is coming back,” she muttered.

“Liar.” He spoke softly. Gently. His tone was so understanding a lump rose in her throat. “Molly, I fell for the woman who made a statement. Who wasn’t about to let anyone dictate to her at all, including her choice of clothing. So what happened when you moved here?”

Molly remained silent but Hunter wasn’t about to let the topic go. He already knew in his gut why she’d buried the boldest part of herself, but he wanted to hear her admit it. And then he wanted the old Molly back. He supposed he had Jessie, the pint-size brat, to thank for giving him the opening he’d been seeking.

“I can’t imagine the commander with her eggplant-colored hair complaining about how you dressed,” Hunter said.

“She didn’t.” Folding her arms over her chest, Molly stared straight ahead, not meeting his gaze.

He wasn’t deterred. “Is it the general? Is he that ultraconservative?”

She shrugged. “About some things.”

“But he’s so happy to have you in his life, I can’t really see him caring what his adult daughter wears. Robin does her own thing and is rarely home, and you couldn’t give a shit what Jessie thinks about you, so what gives?” he asked, covering her hand with his.

“You already have me figured out. Everything’s about my family. About not losing my family. When I came here I wanted to be accepted so badly, I’d have done anything to fit in.”

“Including burying your identity.”

“It’s not that drastic.”

“It most certainly is. If not for those fuck-me red cowboy boots, sometimes I wouldn’t even recognize you. Don’t you miss being you?”

She didn’t answer but he could see the tears in her eyes and he knew he’d hit a nerve. Good. That meant maybe she’d think about what he was saying. He knew he missed the kick in the gut he got every time he saw her in another of her bold color choices. It was what made her unique. Special.

“Your family has already accepted you. At some point they deserve to know the real you.” Acting on impulse, he swung his leg over hers and straddled her hips. “Just like I know the real you.”

“You don’t exactly like me all the time,” she reminded him.

“But I’m an idiot.” He grinned at the admission.

“You’ve got a point.”

His body liked their positioning and his penis hardened against his already open jeans.

“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?” she asked.

Hunter groaned. Grabbing her arms, he drew them up and over her head. “It means I accept you for who you are.” And that meant he had to accept her need to keep her family together at all costs, which he supposed he could do for the short time he remained here with her.

“It’s a start,” she said, obviously pleased.

“So’s this.” He slid his hands down to her breasts, then lowered his lips to hers, the kiss long and lingering. His tongue tangled with hers and his body demanded more.

And that was his signal to leave. With regret, he rolled away from her. “I’d better get going before the little snoop returns and catches us doing more than sleeping.”

“The kid is adding to her list of sins,” she muttered.

He knew she was kidding, but he heard the frustration in her tone, matched only by the frustration inside him.


***

AFTER SHOWERING, Molly’s first stop was Jessie’s room. Although she and Hunter had only slept in the same bed, she still hardly felt in a position to yell at the teen for entering without knocking. Still, Molly figured she held the moral high ground since her half sister had stooped to attempted extortion. Molly’s clothes in exchange for Jessie’s silence about finding Hunter in her room. Sheesh.

Molly knocked once and let herself inside.

Jessie yelped and turned around, hugging her shirt against her chest. “Hey!”

“At least I knocked and gave you warning,” Molly said as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her.

Jessie frowned and turned her back to Molly so she could pull her shirt on in relative privacy before pivoting back to face her. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock.”

The teen’s apology took Molly off guard. “Thank you. And for what it’s worth, I was sick last night and Hunter stayed with me. He must have fallen asleep. I would have preferred you didn’t walk in on us but there wasn’t anything going on.”

“Are you here to yell at me?”

“For your barging in? No, you apologized for that. For attempted blackmail? That we can discuss further. At my age, I don’t think anyone’s going to punish me for having a man in my room, and if you think you’re going to win me over by snooping in my things or threatening me, then you’re mistaken.”

“You have to admit it was worth a shot.” A sheepish grin crossed Jessie’s face.

Apparently the progress they’d begun making wasn’t all lost. Molly rolled her eyes. “No more nonsense. Promise?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jessie muttered.

“Good.” Molly inclined her head. “I brought you something.” She pulled the bright yellow cardigan sweater from behind her back and tossed it Jessie’s way.

“Cool!” The young girl’s eyes opened wide as she wrapped her fingers around the soft material. “Thanks.” She met Molly’s gaze, gratitude evident in her expression.

“No problem. I’m not rewarding bad behavior, mind you, but I do think yellow is your color.”

Jessie had the decency to blush. “I’m sorry I give you such a hard time.”

“I can handle it. But I like you better when you’re more like this. So how’s Seth?” Molly asked, deliberately changing the subject.

“He seems better. He says he looked up Hunter on the Internet and that he’s got an awesome track record of getting people off. That seemed to settle him down a lot. I think he’s worried about losing my dad and his dad, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Molly said softly. “And he’s right about Hunter. Our dad’s in good hands.” She deliberately tossed the volley to Jessie.

She curled the sweater in her hands, holding it up to her face. “Yeah, he is.”

No fight over whose dad the general really was, Molly thought and released her breath. “Enjoy the sweater. It looks best with dark jeans, by the way.” She turned to go, pleased with the progress made.

“Thanks again. Hey, I was thinking…” Jessie said.

Molly glanced over her shoulder. “About?”

“Maybe this weekend you could take me to Starbucks. You know, just us. Unless Robin comes, then uh, maybe the three of us could go?”

Molly grinned. “Now, that sounds like a plan.” And a darn good one at that.


***

HUNTER FOUND the general outside on the porch. The sun shone overhead and the older man stared through a pair of shades into the distance.

“Mind if I join you?” Hunter asked.

“Be my guest.”

Hunter slipped his sunglasses on and sat down beside him. “Is freedom tasting sweet?”

“Bitter.”

Hunter nodded. “I hear you.” Molly’s father was happy to be out of jail and petrified he’d have to go back. “Can we go over a few things?”

The general nodded. “I’m happy to do something to help my own case. I’m not used to being idle.”

Leaning forward, Hunter thought through the events they needed to discuss. “Your office manager hasn’t been to work, has she?”

“No. No letter of resignation, either. Lydia has disappeared and since Sonya’s been willing to fill in during the day, I haven’t worried about where she is.”

“Molly and I are going to Atlantic City later on today. I want to show Paul’s photograph to the staff at the motel where he used to stay. In the meantime, can you and Sonya go through both the business bills and Paul’s personal ones and get me a list of dates when Paul was out of town on business?” As much as Hunter needed the information, he sensed Frank needed even more to be busy and involved in his defense, something Hunter understood and respected.

“Not a problem. What are you thinking?”

Hunter shook his head. “Nothing certain at this point. I’m just wondering if Atlantic City was a side stop when Paul went on his various business trips for you. And if so, was it because he was gambling? Did he owe even more money than he already lost? I’m looking for other suspects so we can plant reasonable doubt in the jury’s mind. Or even more importantly, maybe convince a judge to drop the charges against you altogether due to lack of evidence.”

“I appreciate everything,” Frank said.

“Just doing my job, sir.”

“How’s Molly holding up? Not the brave front she’s putting on for me, but how is she really doing?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

Hunter appreciated the older man’s feeling for his daughter. In the general, Molly had found everything she was looking for in a parent and Hunter couldn’t be happier for her. “She’s strong. She’ll come through this fine,” Hunter assured the other man.

“It isn’t fair, you know. Something this awful happens and it’s the people I love who are taking the brunt of it.”

Hunter nodded. He’d heard something similar from many of the people he’d represented over the years. But this time, Hunter felt more of a connection to the parties and more invested in the outcome. And he couldn’t watch what went on around him with a dispassionate eye. Instead, he often found himself preoccupied with their feelings, and wishing he had the tight family unit Molly had discovered here.

He didn’t, of course. And though Molly thought he hadn’t made peace with his past, he had at least accepted it for what it was. The past. Unfortunately that did not mean he didn’t experience pangs of regret and longing, and when he saw Molly so settled in her life, his own needs resurfaced and were harder to tamp down.

“Cigar?” the general asked, pulling two stogies out of his shirt pocket.

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it a little early?”

Frank let loose with a laugh. “In this house, I take my smokes where and when I can get them since my mother insists on a smoke-free environment for the damn bird.”

Hunter winced, feeling the other man’s pain. “Your home isn’t your castle.”

“You catch on fast.” He extended the cigar and Hunter accepted it.

“It’s hard living with a houseful of women, huh?”

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t answer that.”

Both men turned to see Edna standing behind the screen door with the above-mentioned bird on her shoulder.

“Sometimes I don’t know if she looks more like Baretta or someone from Pirates of the Caribbean. ”

Neither was a complimentary description, Hunter thought.

“I’m still your mother, so be nice. Hunter, can I get you a cup of coffee?” the commander asked.