Rescued in a Wedding Dress by Cara Colter Page A

Lollipops program felt as if it had to be easier to handle than those letters!
    Molly was chipping away at his hardheaded jadedness without even being in the same room with him.
    Today children. He didn’t really have a soft spot for children, but a few days ago he would have said the same of teenage girls pleading for prom dresses!
    Molly was a force to be reckoned with. Houston was fairly certain if he was going to be here for two months instead of two weeks, by the end of that time he would be laying down his cloak over mud puddles for her. He’d probably be funding Prom Dreams out of his own pocket, just as he was donating the entire office renovation, and the time and skill of his Precision Solutions team.
    The trick really was not to let Molly Michaels know that her charm was managing to permeate even his closed office door! The memory of the day they had already spent together seemed to be growing more vibrant with time instead of less.
    Because she was a mischievous little minx—laughter seemed to follow in her wake—and she would not hesitate to use any perceived power over him to her full advantage!
    So, the trick was not to let her know. They hailed a cab when she took one look at his car and pronounced it unsuitable for the neighborhood they were going into.
    As someone who had once put a rock through a judge’s very upscale Cadillac, Houston should have remembered that his car, a jet black Jaguar, would be atarget for the angry, the greedy and the desperate in those very poor neighborhoods.
    The daycare center was a cheery spot of color on a dreary street that reminded Houston of where he’d grown up. Except for the daycare, the buildings oozed neglect and desperation. The daycare, though, had its brick front painted a cheerful yellow, a mural of sunflowers snaked up to the second floor windows.
    Inside was more cheer—walls and furniture painted in bright, primary colors. They met with the staff and Houston was given an enthusiastic overview of the programs Second Chances funded.
    He was impressed by the careful shepherding of the funds, but how he’d seen people react to her in the garden was repeated here.
    Dealing with people was clearly her territory. He could see this aspect of Second Chances was her absolute strength. There was an attitude of love and respect toward her that even a jaundiced old businessman like him could see the value of. Money could not buy the kind of devotion that Molly inspired.
    Still, aside from that, analytically, it was clear to him Molly had made a tactical error in bringing him here. He had always felt this particular program, providing care for children of working or back-to-school moms, had indisputable merit. She had nothing to prove, here.
    Obviously, in her effort to show him the soul of Second Chances she was trying to find her way to his heart.
    And though she made some surprising headway, the terrible truth about Houston was that other women had tried to make him feel things he had no intention of feeling, had tried to unlock the secrets of his heart.
    They had not been better women than Molly, butthey had certainly been every bit as determined to make him feel something. He dated career women, female versions of himself, owned by their work, interested only in temporary diversion and companionship when it came to a relationship. Sometimes somebody wanted to change the rules partway in, thinking he should want what they had come to want: something deeper. A future. Together. Babies. Little white picket fences. Fairy tales. Forever.
    Happily ever after.
    He could think of very few things that were as terrifying to him. He must have made some kind of cynical sound because Molly glanced at him and smiled. There was something about that smile that made him realize she hadn’t played all her cards yet.
    “We’re going to watch a musical presentation, and then have lunch with the children,” she told him.
    The children. Of course she was counting on them to bring