Page 29 of The Secret of Emerald Cottage

Chapter Seventeen

Molly carefully poured the pot over the bowl of popcorn just as Brec sauntered back into the kitchen, his easy banter with its hint of a brogue melting her along with the butter.

“I have to admit, you’ve got me pumped to see this, lass, although I think an Irishman would have been better cast than an Aussie.” He filched several napkins from the napkin holder on the island before following her into the great room, making a bee line for the entertainment center to push the DVD Cat had lent her into the “player.”

How appropriate.

“I mean, what’s Hugh Jackman got that I don’t?”

Kicking her shoes off, Molly sat on the far side of the rustic leather sofa with her legs tucked beneath her, popcorn bowl hugged to her waist like a shield. The lyrics of the opening filled the cozy great room while its staccato pulse pumped into her veins with Woe-oo-oo-oo-ah … “Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a patient smile, popping a piece into her mouth as she angled a brow, determined to hide this irksome attraction from Brec. “Humility?”

He dropped onto the sofa with a heavy whoosh, gaze riveted to the screen where Hugh Jackman stood in silhouette as the ringmaster. Behind him, darkened bleachers of people stood highlighted, their feet stomping to the beat in unison. “Ah-ha, but you do admit I have good looks and talent, yes?” He gave one, then two stomps of his feet along with the others as he shot a glance her way, his little-boy grin doing a little stomping of its own.

Woe-oo-oo-oo-ah …

She looked away, focus fused to the screen. “I refuse to answer on the grounds it may incriminate me,” she said, purposely ignoring those pale-blue eyes that always twinkled with a bit of the devil.

She tensed when he inched closer, his husky chuckle far too close for comfort. “And you, my aspiring detective, have the right to remain silent because anything you say can and will be used against you during this movie. But …”—he scooted so close his elbow grazed her arm when he reached into the bowl for popcorn, unleashing chill bumps on her skin that were anything but chilly—“you do not have the right to hog the popcorn.”

“Oh!” Heat blasted her cheeks, both from his near proximity and the fact she’d been too flustered to even give him his own bowl. “I am so sorry, Brec! Here, you take this bowl, and I’ll go get another for me—”

Handing the bowl of popcorn over, she started to rise, and he tugged her back down. “Settle down, lass. We can share, right?” Moving over a tad, he promptly plopped the bowl between them, diving in while he disarmed her with an easy smile. “Works, yes?”

Yes, because at least he was further away now, allowing her some semblance of relaxation so she could actually enjoy the movie. Gaze fixed on the screen, she allowed her nervousness to slowly drain out as she dipped her hand into the popcorn bowl, wishing she’d at least used Miss Lilly’s gargantuan punch bowl instead.

Thankfully, Brec seemed as fixated on the movie as she, the lyrics of “A Million Dreams” flooding both the room and her heart to remind her that she had dreams too.

For Miss Lilly to be safe.

To find a good job.

To heal from heartbreak.

She froze when her fingers accidentally twined with Brec’s in the popcorn bowl just as the song “Come Alive” began, and Molly swore every molecule in her body did just that, buzzing with something she’d only felt one time before.

With Tyler.

She jerked her hand from the bowl so fast, popcorn kernels flew up in the air like confetti, eliciting a low chuckle from Soccer Boy. “Calm down, lass, I was only going for the popcorn.”

“Take it—I’m done,” she said quickly, pushing the bowl his way to reaffirm to herself right then and there that she was. Done with getting involved with the wrong type of men—too good-looking to trust and too sexy to trust herself.

Living in the same house, she had hoped to forge an easy friendship with Brec and she had. But all too soon she learned that beneath the surface of his player public persona, was a sweet and caring guy who loved to cook for others, playfully tease, and shamelessly fawn over his aunt. Oh, he was still a flirt all right—hard not to be when you looked like him and lousy with charm to boot—but Brec McGill was so much more, and that’s what scared Molly silly.

The strains of “Never Enough” filtered into her conscious, and she leaned her head back and closed her eyes to soak in the beauty of her favorite song from the movie. If she’d learned anything from living with Miss Lilly over the last so many months, it was that good looks and charm would never be enough. Tyler had looks and charm in spades and he’d shared her religion, too, so she thought she was safe, ready to commit for a lifetime.

But as Miss Lilly had so wisely taught her, ‘religion’ wasn’t ‘faith.’ A system of beliefs, ceremonies, traditions, doctrines, certainly. But it fell far short of a bone-deep belief and trust in her God and His precepts no matter the influence of people, places, and things. It was personal and intimate and connected one to the heart of God like nothing else could. A priceless gift from the God of the Universe.

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.

Through the gentle guidance of a backwoods woman, Molly’s faith had burgeoned and blossomed like never before, assuring her that mere attraction—like she felt for Brec, strong as it may be—would also never be enough again.

“Molly.” Her name was a tender whisper in her ear, warm and wonderful.

“Molly,” it came again, the tickle of someone’s breath against her skin, and she felt like she was in a cocoon of comfort and caring she didn’t want to end. Through the fog in her mind, she heard Brec’s husky whisper while he caressed the side of her face, his fingers a gentle stroking that left a delicious trail of heat in their wake. “Wake up, lass. It’s over.”

Noooo! She didn’t want it to be over, this feeling of sweet familiarity and fondness that made her long for so much more!

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he said softly. The breath of his words feathered her lips, coaxing a silent moan that instantly locked in her throat when his mouth slowly caressed hers.