Mr. Davenport stood, his face red and set hard in fury. "Get the hell out of here, you little tramp! How dare you disrespect my son and family by coming here today?"
He grabbed her arm none too gently and pushed her back through the crowd and away. From the distance we could still hear him yelling at her, threatening to have her arrested. I stood, not knowing if I should keep talking or just sit down, when the pastor saved me from the choice by standing up himself.
"Thank you all for sharing about Jon. There will be a small reception at the Davenports’ home following this service. Those who would like to place a flower on his casket may do so now."
It was a valiant effort but nothing could distract the crowd from the drama. Particularly not once we heard a loud smack and turned to see Mr. Davenport striking Molly in the face as she fell to her knees, crying.
Chapter Fourteen
Pay Off
TWO MONTHS AGO
MOLLY STOOD AROUND, likely waiting for Jon. After a few minutes she said goodbye and left the club, and I sat at a table and stared at my now-cold burger as I, too, waited for Jon to return.
He came in happy, but his smile faded when he saw my face. "What's wrong?"
"I met a friend of yours today," I said.
He sat across from me and shoved a fry into his mouth. "Who?"
"Molly. Pretty girl, nice smile, pregnant with your child!"
He paled and set down his French fry. "I can explain, Cat."
"You can explain how you got someone pregnant at the same time you were dating my best friend?"
"It was a one night stand. It meant nothing. I slipped up. I would never do anything to hurt Bridgette. And besides, the situation's been handled. Molly will receive enough money to provide for herself and the baby—which may not even be mine—for a long time. She won't be bothering anyone and Bridgette never has to find out."
I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled. "So you're paying her off to make her disappear and you want me to lie for you?"
Jon reached across the table and held my hands between his. "I can trust you, can't I? With everything? I feel like I can tell you anything, Cat. I feel like we're connected in a way that's special. I promise I'll make this right."
Chapter Fifteen
Sex for Chocolate
PRESENT DAY
AFTER A TENSE and unpleasant gathering at the Davenports' house, Ash and I left as soon as we politely could and spent the evening in sweats and t-shirts, eating junk food, watching movies, and generally ignoring life as grown-ups. We drank too much, stayed up too late, laughed too loud and cried too little, because we'd both spent all the tears we had and we needed to not cry for just one night.
We both had our cell phones turned off, computers shut down and life on the outside completely blocked, and it was wonderful, but not nearly enough to rebalance us.
The next afternoon, as we crawled out of our hangover stupor, showered and ate, Ash got a call from his P.I.
He said a few words, flipped the phone shut and caressed my face, kissing my nose. "He's onto something. He should have important news soon. In the meantime, do you want to go on a ride?"
I sipped my orange juice and nibbled on toast. "Where to?"
"Away."
Away sounded perfect. "Absolutely."
We finished our late breakfast. I donned a leather jacket and helmet and climbed onto the back of his motorcycle, my arms wrapped around his chest, legs and body pressed against his. A thrill of excitement thrummed through my veins as the Harley vibrated under me.
The air whipped around us, cooling us despite the heat of the sun, as Ash wove between cars and took the fastest route to more open roads. We didn't have a destination in place. Instead, we just rode for hours, letting the sound of the engine and the feel of the world passing by fill us so full that nothing else could get through.
Mrs. Brown had packed us a picnic lunch and after a few hours we stopped at a large park and picked a spot by a lake, under a weeping willow, to eat. My stomach grumbled at the sight of cold chicken sandwiches, potato salad, fruit, cheese and sparkling cider.
For dessert she'd packed us each a slice of her famous chocolate cake. I sighed happily, licking the last bit of goodness from my fork and leaning against the tree with a full stomach. "She spoils us," I said of his faithful cook and housekeeper.
"She does." He kissed my forehead. "But if anyone deserves to be spoiled, it's you." He kissed the side of my mouth. "You've got a bit of chocolate there." He deepened the kiss, running his tongue along my lower lip. We both tasted like chocolate and cider as we breathed each other, tasted each other, melted into each other.
His hands slipped under my shirt, fingers teasing my ribs as he pushed aside my bra and rubbed at my aching hard nipples. I arched back, wanting his hands everywhere.
"You feel so good, Catelyn. I can't get enough of you."
"I'm yours," I told him, praying nothing would ever get in the way of us being together again.