Free Hearts Under Siege by Natalie J. Damschroder Page B

actually. Even last night, she hadn’t had much chance to look at his body. Part of her told her not to now, that the barrier she was trying to erect wouldn’t hold if she did, but the rest of her said the hell with it, she might not ever get this chance again. So she stood and looked her fill. When her upward-stroking gaze reached his face, his mouth was quirked up on one side. She snorted. Male pride.
    “What are you doing?” he asked.
    “Picking up. These were on the floor.” She held out the jeans and wallet, squeezing her fist around the wrapper.
    “That’s what I needed, thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.” He took the jeans and went back into the bathroom.
    She sighed. The next few days were going to be hell in more ways than one.
    …
    When Molly and Brady finally arrived at the Fitzpatricks’ Connecticut home, she was a wreck. Brady had slept more on the plane, which was good for him—he might not get much once they got home. But she couldn’t turn off her Brady radar—the sense that told her every move he made, that spiked her tension whenever he woke up and she’d automatically braced herself for him to talk about the previous night again. He hadn’t, but she hadn’t been able to set it aside, anyway. When she’d managed to close her eyes, her brain insisted on reminding her of all the things she’d never feel again, and prodding the embers of her dying—should be dead—hope. Now that they’d had sex, the faint spark she’d been unable to crush, even after all these years, was growing. So she’d spent much of the flight lecturing herself not to open the steel box, not to let the spark get any bigger. All wasted effort, for two reasons. One, herself didn’t listen. And two…
    As soon as Brady saw Jessica, Molly knew it was all over.
    “Darling, darling girl, thank you!” Donna engulfed Molly in a humongous hug, even before touching her son. “I don’t know what we’d have done.”
    “Don’t be silly,” Molly said into the shoulder covering her face. “They’d have gotten a message to him eventually.” She didn’t say who “they” were, knowing Donna would assume it was the company they thought employed Brady.
    “But you got him home so much faster.” Donna released her, dabbing a tissue at her eyes, a gesture that had clearly become habitual. She looked haggard, her eyes red and puffy, the lines around them and her mouth deeper, dragging the skin of her face lower.
    “How are you doing?” Molly asked her, working very hard not to watch Brady on the other side of the foyer embracing his sister-in-law, who was sobbing softly. Even out of the corner of Molly’s eye, she could see reverence in his every touch. His feelings for Jessica hadn’t changed. In fact, they’d be even worse now.
    So much for that spark of hope .
    “Oh, you know.” Donna led everyone into the living room and settled on the couch, reaching a hand out to Brady, who managed to release Jessica enough to grip it. He settled the two of them next to his mother, and his father sank heavily into the recliner. Molly hesitated, but as they asked Brady about the trip, she decided to escape to the kitchen to get drinks and snacks. She knew neither Donna nor Jessica would have been eating, and maybe they’d be comforted enough by Brady’s presence to do so now.
    Plus, it gave her an excuse to escape.
    She was trying to keep her mind blank while she found a tray and started gathering items. Brady walked in as she pulled a pile of condiments and sandwich fixings from the fridge.
    “Jessica says she might be able to manage some soup.” He stood next to the island in the center of the large kitchen. “She can’t remember when she last ate.”
    Molly choked back an irritated reply. Jessica had just lost her husband and had no clue about the subtext of that loss. Brady would be solicitous even if he wasn’t in love with her. “Check the pantry wall, there should be some cans in there.”
    He hesitated, and Molly