When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,50

them, but Gracie protested.

“Come here, Molly Mommy.” Gracie lifted tired, pleading eyes, and Molly felt like Play Dough waiting to be molded by the child’s soft plump hands.

Reluctantly, she sat beside her two charges. The closeness to Pearce set off her internal furnace. Molly shifted on the couch, trying to keep her hip from coming into contact with Pearce’s. But his weight created a larger dip, and she kept sliding against him.

This was too close. She should be worrying about a sick child, not the havoc the child’s father’s closeness created in her body. She should move away, move away as fast as her feet could carry her, but Gracie had shifted, stretching her body so that it lay across both adults. Reluctant to move for fear of disturbing her, Molly remained, stopped her shifting and let her body rest against Pearce. Within minutes, the child was asleep, trapping both adults.

Pearce shrugged and gave her his mischievous wink that sent tingles raging through her. What could she do? She tried to focus on Dora, but her mind was on matters that would surely make the cartoon character’s blush more vividly than the raspberry pink of her cotton T-shirt.

To make matters worse, Pearce seemed immensely happy with the situation. After a few minutes, he stretched his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She resisted briefly, but oh, she felt so safe. She would just rest her head against his chest for a few moments, maybe close her eyes, maybe pretend that this was all real, pretend that she was part of this family.

Gracie’s voice woke her. “I’m thirsty.”

Startled, Molly looked around the family room. How long had she slept? The sun still shone through the bay window. She glanced at the digital reading on the clock, 4:30. She’d slept for over an hour, and from the drowsy look in Pearce’s eyes, he too had succumbed. Grateful for the chance to escape, Molly disentangled herself and hurried out of the room. She returned with drinks for Pearce and Gracie, but this time refused the temptation of her previous spot on the couch and insisted she had chores to do.

She busied herself making a light supper, but all the while she was fraught with questions. What was she doing? Where was this leading? Molly knew she was headed on a treacherous path, one that could only end with a tumble down heartbreak ridge.

When she returned to the family room with soup and sandwiches, she sat at the opposite end of the couch putting distance—emotional and physical—between herself and Pearce. Despite the urge to stay and feel a part of her temporarily adopted family, Molly left them watching cartoons.

She checked Gracie’s temperature several times over the afternoon and though it remained normal, Molly kept a close eye on her. Gracie only nibbled on her food, and at bedtime, there was no protest from the child. She was asleep before Molly read halfway through a story. After tucking the sheets around her, Molly checked on Pearce, then headed to bed with a romance novel. At least it would have a happy ending.

Molly lay in the darkened room, listening to the sounds of the night. What had woken her? She listened to the wind rustling the leaves in the trees outside her window, the rumble of water pipes, the patter of rain on the shingles, but instinctively knew those sounds hadn’t woken her.

She heard soft cries coming from the room next door. She jumped out of bed and grabbed the housecoat she’d left on the chair. She didn’t bother with slippers. Molly pushed open the door and hurried to Gracie’s bed.

The nightlight shed a diffuse illumination to the room. Gracie lay on her back, her cheeks crimson in an otherwise pale face. Whimpering in her sleep, she twisted restlessly, tangling her body in the sheets. Damp blond curls matted her face and her breathing was faster and more labored than normal. Molly touched her forehead. It burned her fingertips. When had the fever started?

Molly placed the thermometer under the child’s armpit and waited anxiously for the digital response. It beeped—104. Too high!

Gracie roused to take some Tylenol and a few sips of water. Molly sponged her down with a cool washcloth. The child barely protested. When Molly was finished, Gracie wrapped her hot arms around Molly’s neck and snuggled against her. Lying down beside the child, Molly wiped the damp strands of hair from her face. She held the blazing body