Then he gritted out, “Molly.”

“What?”

“Get ready for bed.”

She took longer than usual in the bathroom. It seemed the mirror exposed every one of her flaws in brightly lit detail. Screw it. He’s seen me naked before. She slipped on her frilly baby-doll nightgown and marched into the bedroom.

Deacon was propped against the headboard, watching TV. Immediately, his gaze roved over her, from the tiny pink bow between her breasts to the sheer ruffles hitting her midthigh.

“What?”

His tone was even, but his eyes were filled with male appreciation. He pointed at her with the remote. “It’s a damn good thing I’m bein’ chivalrous; otherwise I’d be . . .” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck it. Never mind.”

Molly inched forward. “Tell me.”

“Otherwise I’d be ripping that sexy nightie off you with my teeth.”

Lust and regret landed a one-two punch in her gut and she huffed out, “Oh.”

He pulled back the covers to reveal he’d slipped on a pair of boxers. “Get in here and cover yourself up, woman.”

“You’re acting awful bossy for a man who’s a guest in my bed,” she retorted.

“Babe. I’m bossy in any bed.”

Molly clicked off the lamp on the nightstand before she crawled in. She curled onto her side, her back to Deacon, giving him almost all of the bed.

“You mind if I watch TV?”

“That’s fine. I’m so tired I’ll sleep through it.”

Shadows flickered from the TV images even after she closed her eyes. Exhaustion overtook her.

The last thing she remembered was Deacon kissing her cheek and murmuring, “Sweet dreams, sweetheart. You could use them tonight.”

CHAPTER NINE

MOLLY woke up and squinted at the clock.

Dammit. She’d overslept. She had to be at the church in twenty minutes.

She got ready in record time. When she came out of the bathroom, Deacon was up. Still in bed with the covers up to his chest but looking at her curiously.

“Hey.” She shoved her feet into her sandals. “I’m meeting my family at the church.”

“You want me to tag along?”

“No. Thanks, though. After I’m done I’ll head to the store. Anything in particular you want me to pick up?”

Those crystalline eyes narrowed. “We’ll go to the store together.”

“Fine. I’ll see you later.”

Molly stopped at the convenience store for a giant coffee before she pulled into the church parking lot.

Reverend Somers sat outside on the stone steps. He smiled at her warmly. “Good morning, Molly.”

“Morning.”

The sun shone between the clouds, sending shards of light skipping across the lush green grass. Growing up, she’d attended this church every Sunday. As she’d gotten older and had the freedom to make her own choices, she’d understood that her grandmother had a heavier hand than god in forming her.

“Erma was proud of you,” the reverend said softly.

Molly faced him. “I know. But as she’d raised me not to brag, I have a hard time believing she’d boast to you, Reverend.”

“You’re right. She wasn’t one to boast. Especially not in mixed company. But whenever she invited me for supper, we talked for hours. That’s when she spoke of you. I will miss her.”

Tears sparked in her eyes. “I’ll miss her too.”

Uncle Bob pulled up in his boat of a Cadillac. Jennifer exited on the passenger side and Brandi from the back.

Reverend Somers stood and unlocked the church door. They filed inside after him, falling into silence.

In the parish office, Molly settled in the lone chair off to the side of the reverend’s desk. As much as it dismayed her to imagine Grams discussing particulars of her funeral with her pastor, it made planning the service easier. It also indicated that her death wasn’t as unexpected as Molly had believed. Had she been so wrapped up in her own life she hadn’t recognized the signs of her grandmother’s failing health?

Guilt rolled over her.

Molly was preoccupied when they left the reverend’s office an hour later.

But when Jennifer grabbed the back of her arm above her elbow—a move she’d been doing since they were kids—and squeezed with enough force to leave a bruise, Molly reacted. She twisted her arm free, grabbing Jennifer’s wrist, stepping sideways, and jerking Jennifer’s arm behind her back.

“Fuck. Ow. Jesus. Let go,” Jennifer complained.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again. Understand?”

“Fine. Whatever, you stupid cow.”