Finally a Bride by LISA CHILDS Page B

strongly suggest that you save yourself.”
    His hand slid off hers. “Okay, get out.”
    “Eric!”
    “I’m kidding, Molly,” he said. “I really don’t want you to go.”
    Her heart lifting with relief because he didn’t actually want her to leave, she teasingly accused him, “Masochist.”
    He expelled a ragged sigh. “Tell me about it!”
    “So you’re not mad at me?”
    “Over what?” he asked. “The cemetery, or what we promised to forget?”
    “The cemetery,” she interjected. “You were being so supportive, which is all you’ve been since I showed up at your door.” That night really hadn’t hurt their friendship. “And I thanked you by being all bitch—”
    “Stubborn,” he interrupted her.
    “But you wound up walking home. I’m sorry.”
    “What did I say about apologizing?”
    “To quit it,” she repeated. As if possessed by a mischievous imp, she teased, “So I’ll quit saying I’m sorry. And show you how sorry I am.”
    Eric’s dark blond brows furrowed. “What are you…”
    She rose on tiptoes and threw an arm around his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss. As she pressed her lips to his, she realized she’d done it again.
    She’d made another mistake. Not because she kissed him, but because she didn’t want the kiss to end. With her free hand she grasped his T-shirt, pulling him closer as she moved her mouth over his.
    Eric’s lips parted on a groan, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, hot and hungry, while his hands moved over her, tangling in her hair, running down her back and clutching her hips.
    Molly’s knees weakened as the heat of desire flooded her body. She trembled in his arms, wanting more. “Eric?”

Chapter Eight
    “Eric?”
    His body tense and throbbing, Eric jerked back until Molly’s arms fell to her sides and her thick lashes blinked open.
    “Eric?”
    “Uh-uh. It’s probably not a good idea to show me you’re sorry, either,” he said, his voice gruff, even though he’d tried for light and friendly. He didn’t want to have to assure her again that she hadn’t ruined anything.
    Color rushed to Molly’s face, painting her cheekbones dark rose. “I didn’t mean…I wasn’t trying…”
    “I know.” She didn’t have to try. That had always been the problem with resisting his attraction to her.
    Her dark eyes wide, she stammered, “I—I don’t want you to think…”
    What? Before he could actually work up the nerve to ask, someone else called his name from around the side of the cabin. “Eric?”
    “Rory?” Molly mouthed at him.
    He nodded and glanced down at his watch. “Yeah, I’m back here.”
    Molly shoved his chest—probably in protest of his call to Rory—but the memory of her hands on his body, her lips pressed to his continued to flit through his mind, reminding him of what he’d just stopped. Molly turned and fled into the house just as her teenage brother rounded the corner of the cabin.
    “Hey, man!” Rory said.
    “Hey,” Eric called back. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it today.” But he was damned glad he had.
    “Why wouldn’t I?” Rory asked, his brown eyes narrowing with suspicion.
    Clearly his mother hadn’t told him where Molly was, or at least she hadn’t told him to leave his oldest sister alone.
    “Uh, it looks like rain.” Eric pointed to the ominous sky.
    “You always say the fish bite more when it looks like it’s gonna rain,” Rory reminded him.
    “Yeah, I’m sure the fish are biting,” Eric said, hiding his surprise that the kid had actually paid attention to him. “But I didn’t think you’d make our standing fishing appointment, since you’ve got houseguests.”
    “From what I hear, you got a houseguest, too,” Rory replied in a loud voice. He glanced toward the partially open slider and grinned. “Hey, Mol! You can stop hiding. I know you’re here—come out!”
    Eric wouldn’t lie to Rory, not even for Molly, but he tried steering him toward