smiled and took her plate and can of soda to the table. She sat across from him, and Hunter tamped down the urge to move over next to her and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe.
Once they’d both settled at the table, Hunter picked up his fork and took his first bite. He wanted to continue their conversation, but he really didn’t want to ruin this new peace they’d found between them.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, while Hunter gathered his bravery. “Molly,” he finally said, and she glanced up at him. “I just wanted…I think my job is your business.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, if we’re really going to keep seeing each other, and we have long-term plans to be together, you should definitely have a say in what I do.”
Her eyes rounded, but she quickly looked down at her half-empty plate. “You think so?”
“Well, I want to keep seeing you,” he said. “I want to have a long-term plan with you.” He put another bite of duck in his mouth and took his time chewing it. He’d given her time to say something, and she hadn’t taken it.
Address it head-on.
“Molly,” he said again, waiting for her to look up at him. “Be honest with me. Am I the only one who has a long-term plan for us?”
“Define long-term plan,” she said.
“Marriage,” he said. “Kids. A life we build together, with family vacations and Christmas traditions.” He thought of Dad and Elise, and how they’d each compromised for the other. They each made their own happiness, but they talked about the things they didn’t agree on. One didn’t just bow out completely, and Hunter suspected that was what Molly had just done.
“When do you anticipate all of that happening?” she asked.
Hunter blinked, because he didn’t have a timeline. “When we’re both ready.”
“Are you ready to get married?”
“To you?” he asked. “Yes.” He nodded, because while the idea of marriage did terrify him slightly, if the woman at the altar with him was Molly Benson, he felt sure he could say “I do.”
“How soon would you want children?”
“We’re young,” he said. “You tell me.”
She didn’t. Instead, she asked, “Would you want me to quit teaching to stay home and raise the kids?”
In his mind, yes, that was the life Hunter imagined. Molly at home with the kids while Hunter went to work. Where that work was still hovered just out of sight, but Hunter knew not everything in life could be planned.
“That’s up to you,” he said. “I’d like to think we’d talk about it, and we’d come to a solution that worked for both of us, as well as our family.”
Molly nodded and forked up another bite of pasta. “I’d be willing to consider a long-term plan for us,” she finally said.
Hunter’s heart flopped against his ribs, a wail starting in his ears. “Consider it?” How had he been so blind? He’d thought he’d been reading her signals pretty well, but maybe he’d been only seeing what he wanted to see.
“I have to be honest with you, Hunter.” Molly set down her fork. “Because I don’t think you’re being realistic. I think you’ve got this fantasy in your head, and when real life manifests itself, you’re going to be disappointed. Disappointed in me. Disappointed in our marriage. Disappointed that you’ve married me and that you’ve built the kind of life you don’t really want.”
Hunter stopped eating too and leaned back in his chair. He folded his arms, because he didn’t need her to tell him what he wanted. He knew what he wanted. He’d spent years untangling his thoughts and emotions, and he already knew what was important to him.
“I know what real life is,” he said.
She shook her head. “No, you don’t. Not really. You’ve never had to scrimp and save and sacrifice for something.”
“So this is about me being rich?” An old, familiar darkness entered his soul. He couldn’t believe his money mattered to Molly.
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, kind of.” She sighed and reached across the table as if he’d put his hands in hers. He didn’t, and she pulled her hands back to her lap. “You didn’t have to sacrifice to go to MIT. You’re smart, and you got a scholarship.”
“I worked dang hard at MIT,” he said, the words carrying plenty of bite. She probably didn’t know about the awards and merits he’d earned in college. He hadn’t told her, because Hunter didn’t need to brag.