his rare shows of compassion, but she hadn’t wanted it. She’d have to go through getting his name off the mortgage, and she’d already had to do so much to separate her life from his.
Selling the house had been the easiest thing to do, and Molly had done it.
She’d bought a smaller place—only two bedrooms—closer to her parents, but still an easy drive to her elementary school. It took her forty minutes to get into the city, where Hunter said he’d be working, but she had the time.
All she had was time.
“Just do it,” she whispered to herself. “Be brave, Molly. Brave like you were when you finally told Tyrone you were leaving.” Something strange and wonderful bloomed inside her, and she felt herself physically straighten and strengthen.
She paused, because she absolutely could not call Hunter and walk at the same time. In fact, she should get over to the couch to make this call. She did, perching right on the edge of it. Saltine, the cute little cream-colored schnauzer she’d fallen in love with the moment she’d walked into the dog adoption event, curled into her hip. He only weighed sixteen pounds, and she loved the comforting weight against her.
Comfort eased through her, showing on her face in the form of a smile. “Hey, my little friend.” She stroked the dog, watching Gypsy stalk into the kitchen, her nose up in the air. She could smell the yeast, and that darn cat would do her best to get something to eat off the counter before the night was up.
She jumped up onto the island, and Molly said, “Hey, get down.”
The cat looked over her shoulder, clearly unperturbed by Molly’s command. She’d suddenly gone deaf, because she just tippy-toed her way across the island for a good ten seconds before she finally did what Molly said.
She shook her head and looked at Saltine. “I’m going to call Hunter now. I am.” She took a deep breath. “You’ll stay right here by me while I do?”
Saltine looked up at her with his beautiful dark eyes that seemed to say, I’ll stay right here. Don’t worry. You’ve got this.
Molly took another breath and looked at her phone. She withdrew the paper where she’d written down Hunter’s number, and she programmed it into her phone. Nice and normal too, just Hunter Hammond. When she was a teenager, she’d given everyone a funky little name in her phone, and she smiled as she remembered that her best friend had been MacAdams, though her name was Macey Adams.
With the number in her phone, she had no reason not to call Hunter. Her heart raced, and she quickly got the job done, much like she had to do when she needed to call a parent and let them know their child had been naughty at school that day. She hated those calls more than anything, and she found herself jumping to her feet as the line rang.
“Hello?” Hunter’s voice came through the line deep and luxurious and like falling onto a bed covered in blankets fresh from the dryer.
Molly smiled to herself as his voice dripped through her whole body.
“Are you there?” he asked, and Molly cleared her throat.
“Hunter,” she said. “It’s Molly Benson.”
“Molly,” he said easily, as if the sight of her didn’t make his heart beat any differently than it normally did. “Your dad must’ve called you.”
“He did,” she said with a light laugh. She told herself to calm down. This was Hunter, and she knew him.
You knew him a decade ago, she told herself. He’s not the same as he was then.
“Listen,” she said, thinking that at his core, Hunter probably was the same as he’d been as a teenager. Good, and kind, and hardworking. He left Ivory Peaks every summer, even when he didn’t want to. He worked his grandparents’ farm every morning and every evening, no matter what else was going on.
“I’m listening,” Hunter said, plenty of teasing in his voice.
“I’m really struggling,” Molly admitted.
“How about I start?” he asked. “I called your parents’ house to see if you were there. I know you said you didn’t live with them, but I figured it bein’ the Sabbath and all.”
“Mm hm.” She paced in front of the island, the night beyond the back door still plenty light. Maybe she could drive out to the farm tonight.
“I was hoping to get your number no matter what,” he said. “I’m, well, I’m wondering if you’d like to go out with me. Get dinner or