An hour later the two of them were soaring over the Au Sable River in a sleek little German-built glider.
Chapter 18
Sexual daydreams and fantasies are normal. They're even a healthy way to pass time while you're waiting for the right person to come along. "My Secret Sex Life" for Chik
"It's nice that Kevin finally decided to spend some time with you. Maybe he'll agree to marriage counseling." Amy finished putting the strawberry jam cake on a Wedgwood plate and regarded Molly with her familiar pitying expression.
"We don't need marriage counseling," Kevin snapped as he came through the door with Marmie padding at his feet. They'd just gotten back from their gliding adventure, and his hair was windblown. "What we need is that cake. It's five o'clock, and the guests are waiting for tea."
Amy moved reluctantly toward the door. "Maybe if you'd both pray…"
"The cake!" Kevin growled.
Amy gave Molly a look that indicated she'd done her best but that Molly was hopelessly doomed to life without sex. Then she disappeared.
"You're right," he said. "That kid is irritating. I should have given you a hickey."
This was a topic Molly definitely didn't want to discuss, and she focused all her attention on arranging the tea tray. She hadn't had time to change out of her rumpled clothes or straighten her own windblown hair, but she forced herself not to fidget as Kevin took a few steps closer.
"In case you were worried, Daph… My ears have just about recovered from that scream."
"You were heading right for the trees. And I didn't scream." She picked up the tray and shoved it at him. "I squeaked."
"One hell of a squeak. And we weren't anyplace near the trees."
"I believe that our female guests are anxiously awaiting you."
He grimaced and disappeared with Marmie.
She smiled. She shouldn't have been surprised that Kevin was an experienced glider pilot, although she wished he'd mentioned it before they'd taken off. Despite their afternoon together, things weren't much better between them. He hadn't said a word about his interviews that morning, and she couldn't bring herself to ask. He'd also been strangely jumpy. Once she'd accidentally bumped into him, and he'd sprung away as if she'd burned him. If he hadn't wanted her with him, why had he invited her?
She knew the answer. After his confrontation with Lilly, he hadn't wanted to be alone.
The woman who was causing his turmoil slipped into the kitchen through the back door. Uncertainty was written all over her face, and Molly's heart went out to her. During the drive back to the campground, she'd brought up Lilly's name, but Kevin had changed the subject.
She remembered what he'd said earlier at the cottage. Am I supposed to feel this sudden attachment to her? Because I don't! It had been a pointed reminder that Kevin didn't like close attachments. She'd begun to realize how skillful he was at keeping people away. Oddly enough, Liam Jenner, for all his obsession with privacy, was less an emotional recluse than Kevin.
"I'm sorry about your cat," Molly said. "It was an impulse. Kevin needs lots of excitement." She traced the edge of the cut glass serving plate. "I want him to enjoy the campground so he won't sell it."
Lilly nodded slowly. Her hands slipped in and out of her pockets. She cleared her throat. "Did Kevin tell you about our conversation?"
"Yes."
"It wasn't exactly a rousing success."
"But not quite a failure either."
A heartbreaking flicker of hope appeared on her face. "I hope not."
"Football is a lot simpler than personal relationships."
Lilly nodded, then toyed with her rings. "I owe you an apology, don't I?"
"Yep, you do."
This time Lilly's smile had something more to it. "I was unfair. I know it."
"Darn right you were."
"I worry about him."
"And the damage a man-eating heiress might do to his fragile emotions, right?"
Lilly looked down at Roo, who'd come out from under the table. "Help me, Roo. I'm scared of her."
Molly laughed.
Lilly smiled then sobered. "I'm sorry I misjudged you, Molly. I know you care about him, and I can't believe you'd deliberately hurt him."
Molly suspected Lilly's opinion would change if she knew the circumstances behind their marriage. Only her promise to Kevin kept her from telling her the truth. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm on your side. I think Kevin needs you in his life."
"You'll never know how much that means to me." She gazed toward the door. "I'm going in for tea."
"Are you sure? The guests will be all over you."
"I'll manage." She straightened her posture. "I've had enough of hiding out. Your husband is going to have to deal with me one way or the other."
"Good for you."
By the time Molly reached the sitting room with a plate of cookies and another teapot, Lilly was chatting graciously with the guests who'd surrounded her. She had her heart in her eyes whenever she looked at Kevin, but he avoided looking back. It was almost as if he believed that any sign of affection toward her would somehow trap him.
Molly's childhood had taught her to beware of people who weren't emotionally open, and his guardedness depressed her. If she were smart, she'd rent a car and drive back to Chicago this very night.
An elderly woman from Ann Arbor who'd checked in earlier that day appeared at her elbow. "I've heard you write children's books."
"Not so much anymore," she replied glumly, thinking about the revisions she still hadn't done and the August mortgage check she wouldn't be able to write.
"My sister and I have always wanted to write a children's book, but we've been so busy traveling that we never can seem to find the time."
"There's more to writing a children's book than just finding the time," Kevin said from behind her. "It's not as easy as people seem to think."
Molly was so startled she nearly dropped the cookie plate.
"Kids want a good story," he said. "They want to laugh or get scared or learn something without having it shoved down their throats. That's what Molly does in her books. For example, in Daphne Gets Lost…" Off he went, describing with uncanny accuracy the techniques Molly used to reach her readers.
Later, when he appeared in the kitchen, she smiled at him.
"Thanks for defending my profession. I appreciate it."
"People are idiots." He nodded toward the baking supplies she was setting out for breakfast the next morning. "You don't need to cook so much. I keep telling you I can order from the bakery in town."
"I know. I enjoy it."
His gaze drifted over her bare shoulders and lacy camisole top. He lingered there for so long she felt as if he were running his fingers over her skin. A silly fantasy, she realized, as he made a grab for the biscuit tin where she'd just deposited the leftover cookies. "You seem to enjoy everything about this place. What happened to all those bad memories of summer camp?"
"This is how I always wanted a summer camp to be."
"Boring and lots of old people?" He bit into a cookie. "You've got strange taste."
She wasn't going to argue with him about this. Instead, she asked the question she'd been postponing all afternoon. "You haven't said anything about your interviews this morning."
He scowled. "They didn't go as well as I wanted. The first guy might have been a great chef once, but now he shows up drunk for interviews. And the woman I interviewed put so many restrictions on when she could work that she'd have been useless."
Molly's spirits soared, only to sink as he went on.
"I've got one more candidate coming in tomorrow afternoon, though, and she was great on the phone. She didn't even mind a Sunday interview. I figure we can train her on Monday and leave here by Wednesday afternoon at the latest."