Molly had begged for her mother to talk to her, said sorry a hundred times, but she’d continued to lie there, mute and fractured. “I don’t think she was ever sober again.”
“That is not on you.” A ruthless declaration as Fox turned her to face him. “Baby, you have to know that.” He crushed her against the strong planes of his chest and only then did she realize she was crying.
Wrapped tight in the protective circle of his arms, she felt so safe that she couldn’t fight the crashing wave of shattering emotion—feelings she’d hidden away for so long that she’d almost convinced herself they no longer existed. That none of it had the power to hurt her any longer.
Her nose was stuffy, her throat scratchy, and her eyes wrung dry when Fox spoke against her ear, the whiskey and sin of his voice an addiction—and that was the greatest irony of her life.
“You’re telling me this so I’ll know how bad you’re messed up?”
Molly leaned back enough to meet his gaze, the smoky green black in the darkness. “Yes.” He’d read the newspaper reports, knew what had happened next—the loss of their family home and everything else not already consumed by escalating legal costs, her parents’ deaths in a car crash on the way to a court appearance, her mother later discovered to have been five times over the legal limit.
The only miracle was that Karen Webster had taken only her husband with her, her car smashing not into another vehicle but into a concrete pylon. When it came out that there had been no skid marks on the road, the media had called it a murder-suicide. Molly wasn’t sure they were wrong.
“I’ve worn the coat of being a well-balanced, ‘normal’ person for so long that I almost believe it myself most days,” she confessed, “but I’m not. I have stuff inside me that chokes me up until I can’t breathe. I’m really messed up.”
Fox rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the remnants of her tears. “I got plenty of f**ked-up parts inside me, too. Yeah, they kick my ass sometimes, but I wouldn’t be me without those parts, and you wouldn’t be you.” His voice dropping, holding her captive. “That’s the Molly I want, the messed up, smart, sexy one standing right in front of me.”
Passionate and edgy and starkly romantic, his words kissed the torn-up places inside her. “This,” she said, her voice husky, “us. It’s not working.”
Molten fury, Fox’s skin pulling taut over his cheekbones. “Hell it’s not.”
“Wait.” Molly pressed her fingers to his lips. “That didn’t come out right.” She swallowed, blurted out the words that had been building inside her since the moment he asked her if she wanted to change the rules. “I don’t want a deadline.” Her heart ripping open, the exposure terrifying. “I don’t want to pretend like my mother did, that my life—our relationship—is something other than what it is.”
Fox’s heart staggered at hearing the words he’d been waiting for since the instant he’d first realized she was his. Parting his lips to speak, he suddenly became aware of a large group of energetic and giggly teens racing down to the lookout. “Shit.”
Grabbing Molly’s hand, he led her back up the rise, head angled to avoid being recognized, and drove home as fast as legally possible. This was one night he definitely did not need to be pulled over. Backing Molly against the closed door of her apartment the instant they were inside, one hand on her hip, his other arm braced over her head, he said, “Let me get this right.” His heart ricocheted inside his ribcage. “You’re saying you want us to go on for longer than a month? No limits?”
Molly nodded.
When he simply watched her, she wet her lips, spoke in a throaty whisper. “Yes. I want to change the rules.”
“You sure?” No doubts, there could be no doubts in her mind. “Because once you take that step, I won’t allow you to back away.”
“Yes.” The single word was potent with emotion. “I’m sure. I want to be with you in every way… I want to see who we’ll become together.”
A dazzling kaleidoscope exploding in his mind, Fox thrust his hand into Molly’s hair, unraveling her ponytail to fist his hand in the silky black strands. “No more hiding,” he ordered. “You’re mine, in private and in public. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” It was a thready sound, her throat moving as she swallowed. “You want the same thing?”
“Baby, I never had any intention of letting you go at the end of the month.” Fox’s words shattered everything Molly thought she knew. “You’re like the perfect song and I knew that the first night we spent together.”
The perfect song.
No one had ever said anything so beautiful to her. Already-gritty eyes burning, she said, “H…how do we do this?” Her fingers curled against his back. “Will you fly down to spend time with me after your tour is complete?”
“No half measures, not ever,” was his unbending response. “You come with me.”
Again, he’d hit her with the unexpected. “I can’t.” Breathless words, her pulse in her mouth. “My life, my friends, everything is here.”
“I’m not.”
It was a simple, absolute fact. Shaken, she gripped at him to keep herself upright. “If I choose to stay here?”
“I told you, no half measures.” His expression was brutal, all the niceties stripped away to reveal the strong, determined man at the core of him. “If you don’t come with me, what’ll we have? A few weeks a year?”