She reached for Hazel and settled her into the stroller. She covered Hazel from chin to feet with a blanket. If only covering her past made her feel as content as Hazel looked.
“Did you stop moving then?” Drew pushed the stroller toward a park bench behind the fountain, nestled in a copse of trees and shrubs.
“No. My dad left. Just walked out and never came back one night.” And Molly never wished for a house again. Until Derrick. Then she began to hope. Hope for that house and family she’d always dreamed about growing up. Derrick hadn’t shared her dream. Same as her own dad. And Molly had vowed not to let her dreams ever hurt her again. “I decided if I wanted a house, I was going to have to buy it for my mom and me.”
Drew angled Hazel’s stroller so he could push it back and forth with his foot.
He hadn’t known Hazel long, but he already knew how to calm her. How to put her to sleep. How to make her laugh. Drew would make a good father. Molly flexed her fingers in her lap, expanded those boundaries and her detachment. She wasn’t looking for a father for Hazel or a partner for herself.
Drew glanced at her. His gaze thoughtful. “Did you ever buy a house for you and your mom?”
“My mom passed away two years after we graduated from law school.” Emotions swelled inside Molly, testing her distance. She’d wanted to give her mom what her mom had never had, and she’d failed her. Molly couldn’t fail Hazel. Her throat felt scratchy. “I had student loans to pay off first, before I could afford a down payment on a house.”
“I’m sorry.” Drew reached over and linked his fingers around hers.
“I did rent a beach cottage for us.” Molly dismissed those boundaries and pressed her palm against Drew’s, seeking his warmth and his strength. “We spent her last few weeks gazing at the stars and listening to the waves roll onto the shore.” And finally finding peace with the past. “Mom had always wanted to live at the beach.”
“You granted her wish.” Respect tinged his words.
“She would’ve granted all mine as a child if she could have.” Molly tried to smile. That catch in her voice remained. “Mom always told me, One day, there will be sand between our toes and sunshine in our hearts, Molly. But only if we believe and work hard. The temporary beach cottage hardly felt like enough.”
“I’m sure it was everything to her.” Confidence flowed from him.
“I hadn’t realized until she was gone how much she meant to me. How much she’d been my everything growing up.” Molly looked to Drew. “I want to be the same for Hazel.”
“You already are.” He lifted his other hand, brushed her hair off her cheek.
“That’s kind.” She could hear the doubt in her own words.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” His earnest voice held Molly’s attention. He added, “You are because you put Hazel first, always.”
“But this is not exactly what I wanted for my daughter. What I wanted for us.” One parent. No house. No other family.
“You have more than you think right here.” He squeezed her hand. “And you’re not alone. You know that, right?”
She nodded because he seemed to be waiting for her agreement. Her gaze dropped to their joined hands. Nothing forced or awkward about her hand in his. Only warmth and a steady reassurance. And if she wanted to look deep inside herself, she’d admit it felt right to hold his hand and confide in him. More than right. “Enough about me. Tell me what you’ve wished for.” Did you wish for me?
“I used to wish for it to rain chicken nuggets and tacos,” Drew admitted. A wry grin curved across his face.
Molly smiled. “What about now?”
“Now my wishes are a little more complicated.” He leaned forward, brushed her hair off her cheek again.
Their gazes collided and held. She lost her breath and her focus. And the best kind of chill—the kind that awakened anticipation, swept away her doubt. Her voice rasped, “So, are you going to tell me one of your wishes or not?” Please let it be me.
“I wished for this.” His fingers slipped behind her neck. His head tipped toward hers. She leaned into the kiss.
One soft brush of their lips. One full surrender of her heart.
Her cell phone vibrated on the bench between them. Molly pulled away and picked up her phone. Pressing pause on her racing pulse wasn’t quite as simple as answering her incoming call. “I need to take this. It’s Lorrie Cote.”
Drew blinked slowly. His gaze lifted from Molly’s mouth, as if he’d been considering making another wish, and then his expression suddenly became serious and intent.
Molly answered her phone, kept her focus on Drew and her tone professional.
Lorrie Cote was nervous and hesitant. And not the Cote that Molly wanted to talk to. Still, she was grateful for Brad’s quick work tracking down the family to let them know she had to speak with Reuben. Molly persuaded Reuben’s daughter to listen to her side. Finally she put down the phone and touched Drew’s arm as she would any anxious and worried client. One simple point of contact and it seemed so much more. She had work to sustain her, she told herself, and her love for Hazel to fulfill her. One kiss in the park would change nothing. “Lorrie agreed to meet tomorrow in Sacramento.”
Drew exhaled, “Looks like we’re taking a road trip.”
And realigning my priorities. “We should head home. I need to get prepared for tomorrow.”
Once inside Drew’s truck, their kiss was like a fourth passenger, buckled in beside Hazel’s car seat in the back row and looming like a holdout juror forcing a mistrial.
She’d built a career on never running from a confrontation. Yet there she sat in the passenger seat of Drew’s truck and struggled to launch a talk about their
