Cross My Heart by Carly Phillips Page A

Hunter stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Honestly, sometimes I think she’s listening with a glass to the wall,” she said, laughing.
    â€œDo you live the kind of exciting life she’d find entertaining?” he asked.
    â€œWouldn’t you like to know.” A sly smile curved her lips. “So what’s in the bag?”
    â€œFood.”
    She motioned for him to follow her up the stairs and into her home, stopping in the little kitchen area.
    â€œI didn’t know what you liked, since you’ve never allowed me the privilege of buying you dinner, so I’ve got a variety of specials from The Tavern.” He proceeded to unpack a fully cooked steak dinner, a Tilapia fish entrée, and chicken Marsala. “I covered all the bases,” he said.
    Hunter knew he’d come a long way from the embarrassed, awkward kid that Ty had taken under his wing. Still, sometimes he was thrown back to the state of insecurity he experienced before he’d overcome juvenile detention.
    But Molly didn’t laugh at him. Instead she looked over each platter and inhaled deeply. “I’d love a little of each. How about you?”
    That easily, she broke through his anxiety and they shared a meal. He asked about her parents and her life, but like a lawyer, she deflected his questions with ones of her own. They sparred and he enjoyed her company. But none of their conversation offered him any openings to ask about Dumont.
    â€œSo Anna Marie tells me you know my soon-to-be-stepfather,” Molly finally said, as Hunter handed her dishes and she rinsed them clean.
    She’d made it easy on him after all, giving him the entry he sought. He shook his head and laughed. “I forgot gossip runs both ways.”
    Molly slanted her head his way. “Meaning?”
    â€œAnna Marie was only too happy to feed me information about your mother’s upcoming marriage. Then she turned around and told you about Dumont and me.”
    â€œActually all she mentioned was that you shared a past. Care to elaborate?”
    â€œNot really.” He braced his hands on the white Formica countertop. “But I suppose if I want information from you about Dumont, I’m going to have to share what I know.”
    Hunter knew the minute she realized his dinner had been more of a ploy to question her about Dumont than a ruse to get that long-sought-after date.
    Disappointment clouded her eyes. “So you’re not here just for the company.” Molly placed the dish towel on the counter and turned to face him. “You know what, Hunter? You suck,” she said, plainly. “We may have spent years tiptoeing around dating each other but I never pegged you for a guy who wouldn’t just outright ask for something he wanted.”
    Unless he cared about the woman he wanted something from, Hunter thought. He had no answer for Molly. Not one she’d want to hear, anyway.
    â€œSo what do you want to know about Marc Dumont that’s so urgent you showed up here tonight?” she asked, her disgust with him clear.
    â€œDo you like the man?” He figured he’d start with basic questions and lead up to his big revelation.
    Molly shrugged. “He seems like a decent guy. He may be my mother’s soon-to-be fifth husband, but he’s the first one who’s brought me into the family instead of pushing me out.”
    The same man who’d thrown Lilly out of her own home now chose to give one to Molly. What a goddamn mess. Hunter hadn’t known about Molly’s history with her mother but now he had a clue. Like Hunter, Molly’s family proved that sometimes having parents didn’t guarantee a good life.
    â€œWhy do you ask?”
    Hunter inhaled deep. “Let’s say my past with Dumont doesn’t paint him in a favorable light. But you like him?”
    â€œLike I said, he seems decent. He makes Mom happy and he’s been nice to me. But I