Want Ad Wedding by Neesa Hart

Author:Neesa Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“Go!” Molly leaned over the side of the fence and encouraged the scraggly duck she’d chosen from the pen. “You can do it,” she called. “Dig, dig, dig, dig, dig.”

Sam shot her an amused look and took a sip of his coffee. The brisk October air had tinted her cheeks red, and the breeze played havoc with her hair. She wore faded jeans and a Stamford University sweatshirt. Her thick hair, clasped in a loose ponytail at the nape, made his fingers itch to free it. In bed in his Boston apartment he’d found himself wondering how Molly would look sprawled against dark sheets, her hair mussed and spread across his pillows.

Molly, he was learning, did everything with reckless abandon. If he’d doubted it, the harrowing ride to the fair grounds that morning had confirmed it.

Molly had wanted to drive. Sam decided it would give him a chance to listen to her car on the road and see if he could identify the source and cause of the orange Beetle’s horrific exhaust leak. As soon as she coasted through the first stop sign, he recognized his mistake. Molly drove with the same recklessness she used to argue with him in editorial meetings. As far as he could tell, there was a logic to it somewhere, but it defied description and kept him on the edge of his seat.

He’d forced himself not to cringe as she darted between cars and sneaked through yellow lights. Payne had only four traffic lights, and its citizens, he’d observed, went to extraordinary lengths to avoid them.

Now, he knew why.

Word had to be out that, at any moment, Molly might come storming through an intersection in her dilapidated car. Fortunately they could always see her coming—or at least smell the exhaust. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would insist that he look at her car.

If I live that long, he thought with a grimace as her tires squealed around another curve. To take his mind off the certainty of impending collision, he concentrated on the way her long fingers gripped the steering wheel, and how the smooth curves of her face were partially shielded by her dark sunglasses. Then he asked her about new developments in her research into Cobell’s transportation project. She talked while she drove, darting, as usual, from one idea to the next. He enjoyed the vibrant thrum of her voice.

Occasionally, a hint of an Irish accent would cradle a word with a rolled r. Like a purr. He wondered if he could get her to purr like that by whispering something forbidden in her ear.

He reveled in watching her now as she cheered and encouraged the ducks. Monday night he’d proven that he could make Molly want him. What he wasn’t sure of was whether or not she’d get there on her own, without an added push from him. It had never mattered to him before whether a woman desired him, but with Molly, things were different.

Everything was different.

Maybe it was the

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