Heavenly Match

by Sharon DeVita

  “A cup of coffee does sound good,” Paul ventured.

  Molly glared at both men. She couldn’t believe Jonathan had actually encouraged Paul to stay. And as for Paul—she turned her angry eyes on him—she couldn’t believe he would actually have the nerve to sit down and have a cup of coffee!

  Grudgingly she slid over to make room for him, aware that Jonathan was watching her every move intently. Let him be curious, she thought darkly. She wasn’t about to start explaining.

  Much to her dismay, Paul made himself comfortable. “So, you’re a friend of Molly’s.” He spoke directly to Jonathan, totally ignoring Molly. Fury bubbled through her veins. How dare he speak about her as if she weren’t even there!

  “Yes, Paul,” she returned recklessly, before Jonathan could even open his mouth. “Jonathan is a friend of mine. I have lots of friends.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but if Paul noticed he gave no indication as he turned to give her another smile.

  For the first time, Molly noticed how weak his chin was. Lord, she wondered, how on earth could she have ever imagined herself in love with him? To think she had almost agreed to spend the rest of her life with this insensitive, uncaring man. The thought caused a shudder. She couldn’t even stand the thought of spending the next few minutes with him, let alone a lifetime.

  “Molly?” Paul waited until she looked at him. “How’s your aunt?”

  In an effort at self-control Molly took a deep breath and counted to ten. How dare he even ask about her aunt? The only thing Paul cared about was himself. She didn’t answer him, fearing nothing civil would roll off her tongue.

  “Molly?” He reached out and touched her arm, and she instinctively recoiled. His touch was cold and clammy and set her nerves on edge. “I hope you know that what happened…well…” He shrugged. “It was probably for the best. I like your aunt. I really do. But, under the circumstances, I just felt it best—”

  She didn’t want to hear any more, didn’t want to listen to his weak excuses. The only thing she wanted was for him to leave. And now. “Paul, it was nice to see you again. Sorry you have to go so soon.”

  He looked at her in surprise. But, seeing the dark glint in her eyes, the man blessedly got the message. He shook his head slowly and pulled himself reluctantly to his feet. “Yes, it’s probably best if I get going. Nice to meet you, Jonathan.” He gave her one last look before scurrying away.

  Molly glared at his retreating back for a moment, then closed her eyes and let her anger dissipate. Why today of all days did he have to wander back into her life? Even for just a moment?

  Breathing easier, Molly began to relax. Then her eyes fell on Jonathan. Uh oh, she thought, eyeing the curious look on his face. Here it comes.

  “That was some performance, Molly.” Jonathan leaned back against the booth and surveyed her quizzically. There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

  “What do you mean?” she replied innocently.

  “Ever since you spotted that Paul character, you’ve been acting very strange.”

  Tension coiled like a snake inside her, but Molly did her best to act nonchalant. “Strange? I don’t think I’ve been acting strange at all,” she returned breezily.

  “Who is that guy, Molly?”

  “What guy?”

  “Paul.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, just a man I know. He used to be the administrator at my school.” That wasn’t a lie. Paul had been the administrator, that’s how they’d met. Luckily, after their wedding was called off, Paul had requested a transfer and got it.

  “Why did you get so angry when he sat down? Is he the mystery man from your past?”

  Stunned, Molly’s gaze flew to his. Her mouth snapped shut, and she glared at Jonathan. “Angry? Me? I don’t know what you mean. I wasn’t—”

  “Is he, Molly?”

  Couldn’t Jonathan Kent be just a little less persistent just once in his life? she wondered miserably, cursing Paul Host. “I’m starved,” she announced. “Let’s eat.” She grabbed the menu from behind the sugar jar and began reading. “Special today is meat loaf. You haven’t lived until you’ve had the diner’s meat loaf. Loaded with home-cooked gravy and a giant dollop of mashed potatoes on the side. It’s heavenly.” She fairly swooned.

  “Molly?” Jonathan’s voice had taken on an ominous tone. He reached out and tugged her hand, trying to get her to look at him, but she refused.

  “Unless of course, you’d rather have the corned beef with boiled potatoes,” she rattled on. “It’s good, too. But personally, Jonathan, I think I prefer the meat loaf.”

  “All right. That’s it!” Jonathan grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet in one swift motion.

  “Jonathan!” she protested. “What are you doing? Where are we going? We haven’t even ordered yet.” The menu fluttered from her hand.

  Ignoring her protests, Jonathan pulled her through the crowded diner.

  “Jonathan,” she groaned, conscious of all the curious eyes that were now focused on them. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere we can talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk,” she insisted, struggling to pull free of him. But Jonathan only tightened his hold on her hand. “I want to eat.”

  “Tough!” he snapped over his shoulder.

  Molly stopped abruptly, refusing to budge another inch. “Look, Jonathan, I really am starving. Can’t this wait?” She implored him with her eyes.

  “No, Molly, it can’t wait.” Jonathan dragged her outside and down the walk, finally stopping about a block away from the diner. “Now, who is he?” There was a stubborn tilt to his chin and Molly knew she wasn’t about to get out of this one easily.

  “He’s just a man, Jonathan,” she said wearily.

  He dropped his hands to her shoulders. His touch sent a warming shiver skipping down her spine. “Just a man?” His brow lifted skeptically. “Then why did you react like that when he came over?” He tilted her face and forced her to look at him. His features were still and intensely serious.

  This is ridiculous, she thought, raising her chin a notch. “Like what!”

  Jonathan’s fingers claimed her chin again and he absently began stroking her. His touch was meant to be soothing, but it had just the opposite effect, and a slow warmth threatened to engulf her. She tried to step back out of his reach, anxious to break the spell that was slowly encompassing her, but Jonathan’s grip on her shoulder tightened.

  “Every time I come near you, Molly, you jump like a wounded deer. Why? Is it because of that Paul character?” His soft voice rubbed over her exposed nerves, and she lowered her chin, feeling like a fool. Jonathan was right, of course. Every time he touched her, she did flinch. Not because she was afraid of him, though. But because his touch sent her spinning into regions of desire. Regions she had never ventured into before. Regions that frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

  “Molly, please tell me who he is.” Jonathan’s voice was insistent. And from the determined look on his face, she realized she was going to have to tell him sooner or later.

  Oh blast! What difference could it possibly make now? She lifted her chin, took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Paul Host was my fiancé.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jonathan’s astonishment was quick and genuine: His brows rose, almost disappearing into the curls that fell across his forehead. “Do you mean to tell me that you and that nervous little man were engaged?”

  Did he have to make the word sound so distasteful? “Yes, Jonathan.” Molly nodded her head and sighed wearily. “I was engaged to that nervous little man.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Jonathan shook his head. “Why—how—I mean, what happened?”

  Her spirit dragged. The last thing she wanted to do at the moment was waste any more time talking about Paul Host.

  “Can’t we please just drop it, Jonathan? It’s over and done with.” She sighed heavily. “Paul Host hasn’t been a part of my life for a long, long time.
I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Did he hurt you?” Jonathan dropped his hands protectively to her shoulders. His fingers dug into her soft flesh as he studied her face. “He hurt you very much, didn’t he?” He studied her face carefully for a moment, then swore softly under his breath. “That little—”

  “It doesn’t really matter Jonathan. It was a mistake to begin with, and a mutual decision to break it off. I don’t really want to talk about it.” It felt good to have his hands on her shoulders. Good to have him touching her again.

  “I do,” he stated firmly. “Tell me what happened.” Thick lines marred his brow, and his voice shook with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “Someday you’re going to have to trust someone. Why not me?” The way he said it took her breath away.

  “Trust you? Why should I trust you?” she cried, suddenly remembering their argument about his grandmother. He wanted her to trust him, yet he hadn’t given her any reason to. Molly stiffened, reinforcing her defenses.

  “You should trust me because I care about you. Oh, Molly, I care.” His voice was soft as he gathered her reluctant body close.

  His words seemed to crumble the last of her resistance. Did she dare believe that Jonathan cared for her? And was she ready to admit how she really felt about him? Despite all her denials, Molly knew Jonathan Kent had the power to hurt her—a hurt she feared might never go away. Sighing, she allowed herself to relax against him. A torrid warmth engulfed her as her body met his, leaving her feeling all too vulnerable.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Jonathan whispered, stroking her hair. “Trust me.”

  She longed to reach out to him. To hold him. To trust him. But she didn’t dare, did she?

  “Let’s walk, Molly.” Sensing her misgivings, Jonathan dropped an arm around her waist and steered her down the sidewalk. She followed his lead, not knowing or caring where he was taking her. She didn’t ever want to be hurt again. But she certainly didn’t want to hurt Jonathan, either.

  He would be gone in a little while. Just the thought was painful. Whether he meant to hurt her or not, when Jonathan left it would be another shaft of pain for her to bear. And she didn’t know if she could stand it. She had to get used to the idea that Jonathan Kent was not a permanent fixture in her life. She hated to admit it, but she had gotten used to the idea of having Jonathan around. In just a few days he had driven through her life like a turbulent spring storm, turning her world totally upside down. When she wasn’t with him, she missed him, thought about him. When he left, she would be alone again, and she didn’t know if she could bear it.

  They entered the park and Jonathan led her to a bench near the entrance. The park was deserted except for a few robins that squawked and flew about with reckless abandon.

  Pulling her down next to him, Jonathan kept his arm around her shoulders. “Now, from the beginning, Molly, tell me all about this Paul character.”

  Molly mutely shook her head. Why waste any more time talking about Paul when her heart and mind were filled with Jonathan?

  “Molly,” Jonathan coaxed, his voice soothing, “maybe I’ll be able to understand. You know, you’re going to have to trust someone sometime. You certainly can’t spend the rest of your life alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” she said fiercely. “I have Aunt Emily.”

  His eyes were sharp and assessing as they watched her struggle to hold on to her composure. A sudden, dazzling light flickered in his eye and he smiled tenderly. “That’s it, isn’t it? Paul mentioned something about your aunt. Your breakup had something to do with your aunt, didn’t it?”

  Molly’s lips thinned, and she simply nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Tell me the whole story from the beginning.” It was no longer a question, but a command. He pulled her close until her head rested against his broad shoulder.

  Taking a deep breath, Molly plunged in. “I’d known Paul about a year. We’d worked at the same school. We began dating, and after a while we realized that we had a lot in common. When he asked me to marry him, I accepted. He seemed decent and kind.” The last few words were said more to reassure herself than to reassure Jonathan.

  “Did you love him?”

  His question brought a small smile to her lips. “I guess at the time I thought I did. But now I realize I didn’t love him at all. Certainly not the way a wife should love her husband. It was more like a companionable friendship.”

  “Why did you break up?” He gently stroked her shoulder, urging her on, reassuring her of his presence.

  “We had agreed that Aunt Emily could live with us after we were married. She’s always been a part of my life, Jonathan,” she cried, her voice trembling with anger. “Aunt Emily raised me. I wanted her to live with us.” Just talking about it made her fury grow.

  “But that Paul character didn’t?”

  Molly nodded furiously, and Jonathan muttered something under his breath. “At first Paul agreed. He thought it was a fine idea. Then a few months before the wedding he took me to see this place on the outskirts of town. He wanted me to put Aunt Emily away in some wretched rest home.” Her eyes filled with sudden tears and Jonathan bent to wipe them away, replacing them with tiny kisses.

  “Go on,” he urged, tightening his arms around her until Molly felt warm and protected. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “When I told him it was out of the question, Paul said I had to make a choice: either him or Aunt Emily.” Molly sniffled, then wiped her nose on the handkerchief Jonathan produced.

  “Is that when you broke it off?”

  Molly nodded. “I wasn’t about to put Aunt Emily away somewhere just for his convenience.”

  “Good for you, Molly girl.” He was silent for a moment, and Molly snuggled closer to him, relieved that the entire story was finally out in the open. The soft rhythm of his breathing soothed her as she buried her face closer to the soft pad of his shoulder.

  “Oh my God!” Jonathan suddenly bolted upright and held her at arm’s length.

  Startled, Molly stared at him in confusion. “Jonathan, what is it?”

  “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you got so upset about my grandmother.” Grinning, he shook his head. “Now I understand. You thought I was going to do to my grandmother what Paul wanted to do to your aunt! No wonder you were acting like I was an ax murderer out on a three-day pass. Poor Molly,” he crooned softly. “Listen to me.” He drew back and forced her chin up. His eyes bore into hers until she felt she was drowning. “You have to believe me when I tell you that I would never do anything like that to my grandmother. I’m not Paul Host. And I’m not at all like him. I would never do anything to hurt my grandmother, Molly. I love her.” His eyes softened as they tenderly met hers. “I want you to trust me, Molly.”

  Eyes wide, she stared at him. Her eyes lovingly traced his features. Did she dare? she wondered. Surrendering to a force stronger than her will, Molly closed her eyes. Maybe it was time for her to trust again. To risk everything. She took a deep breath.

  “All right, Jonathan,” she said softly, reaching up to caress his cheek. “But you have to help me. You want me to trust you, but—can you understand how I have doubts?” She looked up at him expectantly. “Your grandmother—”

  Jonathan chuckled softly. “Molly, if you know my grandmother, you know how stubborn she can be. Not to mention independent, headstrong and hardheaded. Just like your aunt.” Molly smiled and nodded her agreement. “Grandmother asked me to come home to help her iron out some problems. Nothing more. Nothing less. Honest.” He gave her a reassuring smile, and Molly realized she believed him. “Your aunt trusts me. Don’t you think you can at least try?”

  Molly looked at him. His eyes were so tender that it warmed her heart. Jonathan was asking her to trust him without really giving her a reason to. Could she do it?

  Silently she stared at him. She studied the angles of his handsome features. His face spoke of tenderness. His eyes of honesty and integrity. No,
he wasn’t Paul Host. He would never be that kind of man. Jonathan Kent was too kind, too warm. Jonathan Kent was one of a kind.

  Euphoria swept through her, filling her heart, and all at once, she knew. In her heart. In her mind. And with every ounce of her being. She had to trust him. She was in love with him. She loved Jonathan Kent!

  Molly took a deep breath. “Jonathan,” she said softly, “I trust you.”

  He gave a delighted whoop and scooped her up into his arms, settling her on his lap. “I won’t ever hurt you, Molly girl,” he whispered. “Promise.”

  His words swept away every ounce of doubt. She slid her arms around his neck and lifted her face for his kiss. It seemed like an eternity until his lips closed over hers. Basking in the newness of her feelings and in the heady sense of trust that she had found again, Molly responded to him like someone who’d been lost in the desert. She drank in his lips, savoring the taste of him with an intensity that frightened her. A whimper of desire escaped her, and Jonathan drew, back hesitantly.

  “Molly?” His eyes met hers and she moaned softly.

  “Oh, Jonathan.” She wound her fingers into the soft silk of his hair as he laid his cheek against hers. Intoxicated by love, she inhaled deeply and raised a hand to hesitantly trace the contours of his face, awed by the beauty of him.

  She realized that until that moment, she had never truly known love. Sanity fled as she eagerly lifted her mouth, twining her arms tightly around his neck. She was hungry for his kiss, for his caresses.

  “Oh, Molly girl,” he whispered, “trust me. You won’t be sorry.” His words freed the last bits of restraints around her heart, and she surrendered her will completely to Jonathan.

  Love. Trust. She’d never realized how wonderful the words were until now. She loved Jonathan. Trusted him.

  Her skin tingled with anticipation as his lips wove a path down her cheek and across her face. His touch was as light as a feather, and her body obeyed the new command. She turned her mouth toward his, no longer able to bear the absence. Jonathan’s mouth found hers, and a whimper of pleasure sounded deep in her throat as his warm fingers slid slowly up her back, coming to rest on the soft curve of her breast. She sipped at his lips gratefully, taking what he offered and longing desperately for more. His parted lips devoured hers, seeking and demanding a response. His tongue parted her lips, exploring the honeyed recesses of her eager mouth. A wispy cloud of passion muddled her thoughts as she leaned closer to him, her body ignited by the warmth of his.