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“Thank you,” she finally mumbled as they merged onto the interstate, her cheeks frustratingly warm with the inexplicable embarrassment of receiving a compliment. Molly didn’t know what to do with all the heat flushing beneath her skin. She fixed her gaze forward for the duration of their drive.
What should have been a horrible, awkward silence felt heavy and warm and charged instead.
Nearly thirty minutes later, as they pulled up to Alannah and Simon’s parents’ house, she finally added, “Honestly, if you could try to completely forget that whole handsome and suave thing, I’d appreciate it.” She caught herself, the implications of suggesting he forget etching a cringe into her face. She turned to face him. “I’m sorry. That was a bad choice of wor—”
He gave a small shake of his head. “It’s fine, I know what you meant.” He put the car in park. “But I assure you, there’s no way I could ever forget that moment. Without a doubt one of my top ten.”
Molly had to tamp down her embarrassment again as they got out, fumbling for a change of topic. “So, is this the car you ran me over with?” She blanched as soon as the question left her lips.
Aster stopped dead in his tracks.
Molly felt like disintegrating.
To her surprise, he let out a choked laugh. Which forced one from her as well. Both of them perhaps too stunned to do anything else.
“No,” he finally said. “That was a new car. I went back to this one after. I—I honestly have no idea what happened to it. Did you think I was driving you around in a car I’d hit you with?”
She blinked. When he put it that way . . .
“I have no idea,” she rushed. “I didn’t even mean to ask it. I think we should call this a collective hallucination and move on.”
His attention shifted between Molly and the car for several beats before he finally said, “Deal.”
Together, they approached the Clay family’s expansive property. Far from town, it was an old place bordering on historic. Its charm came in the form of sprawling gardens and wide-open stretches of beautiful green grass bordered by tall, austere trees swaying in the late summer breeze.
A pang of familiarity and fondness snuck up on her. Molly would always have an affinity for this place—those beautiful, languorous summers she’d spent lounging by the creek with Alannah or sneaking away at sunset to kiss Simon—but the nature of those memories had changed, no longer charged with such heady emotion.
She found peace in these revelations as she followed Aster in the direction of boisterous voices and various loud noises. She silently wondered how often a baby’s birthday involved pyrotechnics.
Alannah nearly toppled Molly with a hug.
“You’ve made it, thank God. Do you realize how many brothers I have? I try to forget sometimes, but they’ve decided that Thomas’s first birthday is the Clay soirée of the season. There’s just so much . . . noise.” Alannah sounded legitimately out of breath and exhausted to the point of delirium by the time she finished. And then a firecracker exploded somewhere on the other side of the house.
Alannah winced; Molly jumped; Aster sighed.
“Yes, and I know for a fact there’s only four of them,” Molly said. “No matter how loud they are. Though I’ve only met Patrick the one time, did he come all the way from Alaska?”
“No. Mom couldn’t guilt him into skipping his best friend’s bachelor weekend. But you did see him at Jessa’s—ack.” Alannah’s eyes widened, and she made a groaning sound Molly knew all too well. It meant she’d blurted too much and needed to backpedal. “No, you won’t remember that. I’m sorry, Molly. My brain is fried, and my mouth is moving without permission.”
Molly nearly snorted; she certainly knew a little something about that. “It’s okay, really. You should have heard what I just said to Aster.”
“I thought we agreed it never happened?” he murmured.
“We did, so I’ll obviously only be repeating it to Alannah. And Roy.”
Alannah’s exhaustion immediately transformed to excitement. “Oooh, juicy. Can’t wait.” She turned her attention to Aster. “By the way, Bishop, you know your belt doesn’t match your shoes, right?”
He tensed, and Molly knew he was resisting the overwhelming urge to glance down and validate that statement.
“Thank you, Alannah. I trust you know lilac isn’t your color.”
Alannah rolled her eyes. “Roy’s already said this dress looks great on me.”
“Has he had an eye exam lately? He may be due.”
Alannah smacked him on the arm. “Be nice, Bishop, or I won’t let you see the birthday boy.”
Not the threat Molly expected. And certainly not the response either. Aster folded, shamelessly and instantly.
