The Groom's Revenge by Susan Crosby

with a fresh spritz of perfume, Mollie waited an hour after they retired to their rooms before she finally gave up on Gray and went to bed. No knock on the adjoining door made her heart kick into overdrive. No turn of the handle sent her stomach somersaulting. She waited for a first kiss that never came. Apparently she would be made to wait until his next visit to Minneapolis, since the plan was for her to take a commercial flight home the next night, alone.
    She closed her eyes, tired enough to sleep, but letting the anticipation drain from her mind and body. After a while she felt herself drifting Floating. Falling...
    Click. The latch of a doorknob stopped her mid-flight. She kept her eyes closed, sensing him moving closer, but not hearing him. After a minute he pulled the sheet over her shoulders and tucked the fabric around her. She rolled onto her back, seeing him easily in the moon glow through her window. He wore sweatpants, but his chest was bare.
    “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    “I was awake.”
    He sat beside her.
    Freeing an arm from under the sheet, she wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Can’t you sleep?” She sat up, knowing her nightgown covered her as completely as a T-shirt. He couldn’t accuse her of tempting him.
    He shook his head. “I haven’t been in this house for more than a few hours at a time since I moved out more than ten years ago. I had forgotten how silent it is.”
    Silent. An interesting word choice, Mollie thought. Most people would have said quiet. “Your parents seem very settled”
    “They’ve always been settled. No ups. No downs. No anger. No joy. Keep it cool. Stay calm. Be polite. I didn’t remember that until I brought you into it. And the reason I noticed is because being here changed you.”
    “In what way?”
    “Your brightness output dimmed.”
    “I can’t say I’ve been completely at ease, Gray, but I haven’t felt stifled. You seem to be testing them, though. Seeing how far you can go.”
    “Like some teenager,” he said, pushing himself off the bed, moving toward the window.
    “You’re on a quest.”
    “Is that a nice way of saying I’ve gone crazy?”
    “No.” She watched him shove his hands into his pockets, recalling that he’d done the same thing when he’d greeted his parents. Don’t touch. She knew now where that warning had come from, how long he’d lived with it. She wanted to put her arms around him and hold him close. To comfort. To tell him everything would be all right
    “You’re searching for something.” For the childhood you lost, Mollie thought, suddenly sure of it. “Something you miss. Your father?”
    “When my mother married James, part of the deal was that he could adopt me, because he couldn’t have children of his own.” He rested his palms on the window frame and looked out at the night. “He nurtured my God-given talents. Gave me opprtunities I might not have had otherwise. I owe him.”
    Nurtured? Nurturing meant caring, loving and showing affection. How could he think that James had nurtured him?
    She and Gray couldn’t think more differently, Mollie decided, a fact that should have deterred her but didn’t. If anything, she cared even more deeply about him.
    “You forfeited your father’s name and history, which hurt you.”
    He angled a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. “The way you feel about your mom is how I felt about my dad. He was the best. Good and kind. Fun-loving. He always had time for me. We did a lot together—fishing, playing ball, tinkering with the car. People came and went constantly at our house, stayed for meals. And he always tucked me in bed, kissed me good night.”
    “That changed after your mother remarried.”
    “More than you would believe. James has been good to me, although not the same as my dad. I do feel an obligation to him. He’s always treated me as his own.”
    “Parents shouldn’t make their children feel