The Temporary Wife - By Jeannie Moon Page 0,8

and would cuddle, but they did it on their terms. If they wanted to be left alone, they’d run like hell.

“Sit still for a second while I braid your hair. Your uncle will be here soon.”

Meg started working Molly’s long dark hair into a pretty French braid. She was fidgeting, and every noise had the child craning her neck for the cat, but eventually Meg secured the elastic and let her young charge go cat hunting again.

In the eight months that Molly had been living here, Meg had learned a lot. Mostly that her very predictable life was no longer predictable. She was at the mercy of another person, and it required more than a little patience, especially since Molly was going through some major adjustments. Not that Meg would do anything differently. Taking care of Grace’s daughter was a gift, a way to keep her friend with her forever.

Meg walked to the kitchen and got herself a glass of water and listened to Molly sing along with one of her favorite videos. Jason was going to be here in a few minutes, and then she’d have to face yet another change in her life.

There had to be another way. Marrying seemed extreme, but part of her, a very small part, welcomed the idea of having someone else to share this new responsibility. She’d never say that aloud, of course, never give anyone that kind of ammunition, but she now had a new respect for single parents.

This job was not for sissies.

Meg glanced out the kitchen window and saw Jason’s Mercedes pull into the driveway. Right on time. That hadn’t changed; Jason planned and scheduled everything, which was what made the proposal so out of left field. There was desperation attached to a move like this, and Jason never acted out of desperation. Even when they were kids, every move he made, whether he was playing hide-and-seek or capture the flag or taking her to bed for the first time, was carefully controlled.

And that made her wonder what he knew. Was the situation worse than she thought?

She moved toward the door before he even rang the bell, partly because she didn’t want Molly throwing it open without her there and partly because she was anxious. Anxious to hear what he had to say about how they were supposed to sell this sham of a marriage to people and, she had to admit, anxious to see him. Meg had been head over heels for Jason when she was sixteen, but even if he did still make her girly parts sing, she had to keep her guard up. There was some serious chemistry between them, that hadn’t changed, but she didn’t know if she could ever trust him.

The bell rang, and Molly just about bowled her over to open the door. Meg stepped to the side as Jason was assaulted by forty pounds of squirming five-year-old.

“Uncle Jason!” He caught her with his free arm. “Why do you have flowers?”

He smiled, kissed his niece on the forehead, and stepped inside with Molly clinging to him like a spider monkey. As soon as the door closed, he held the flowers out toward Meg. “For you,” he said. “Thanks for asking me over.”

Stunned and mildly charmed, Meg took the bouquet and stared at him. What was he up to?

“Thank you, and you’re welcome. Come on in; I’ll put these in water.”

As they continued in, he still carrying Molly, the chatter began. “Why did you bring Aunt Meg flowers? Why are you here? Is she your girlfriend? We have a cat. His name is Moe Kitty and he’s nice, but he doesn’t want to wear doll clothes. I like school. My teacher is nice. Kindergarten is soooo easy, and I can count to twenty. Wanna hear? One-two-three-four—”

“Molly, slow down,” he said. “Do you always talk so much?”

By this point they were standing in the kitchen, and Meg looked over to see Molly think about his question before answering. “Uh-huh.”

“Hmmm, well, why don’t we take care of one question at a time, or better, why don’t you tell me about school?”

He settled her on the top of the kitchen island and planted his hands on either side of her hips to keep her safe. Jason was obviously aware that Molly was kinetic.

It was then, when Molly was looking up into her uncle’s face and telling him all about her day, that Meg could see the strong family resemblance. They had the same high cheekbones and dark shiny