Sealed with a Kiss

CHAPTER ONE

Eight Months Later

“I WANT MY FATHER out of his jail cell now,” Molly demanded of the public defender assigned to her father’s case.

Bill Finkel, Esq. rummaged through the papers in front of him, searching for heaven knew what. Each time she asked the man a question, he responded by first sifting through his disorganized folders and briefcase. He finally glanced up at Molly. “It’s a murder case.”

She cocked her head to one side. “And?”

He looked down and shuffled some more papers.

Molly was getting tired of looking at the top of his bald head. “I may not specialize in criminal law, but even I know that since the general is a decorated soldier and an honorably discharged war hero, there’s no reason you can’t get him released on his own recognizance or a minimal amount of bail.” Her years in real estate law felt like a waste right about now.

Bill cleared his throat. “It may not be that easy. Your father is accused of murdering his friend and business partner. He had a key to the office where the body was found, and motive since he discovered Paul Markham had been embezzling money from their real estate business.” The public defender read word for word from the paper in front of him.

Weren’t good lawyers supposed to think fast on their feet? “It’s all circumstantial. Ask the judge to balance the weight of the evidence against my father’s reputation in the community, his ties to his family and business, not to mention his service to this country!” Molly slammed her hand against the old metal table in frustration. “Speaking of my father, where is he? They were supposed to bring him to this meeting twenty minutes ago.”

“Ah, I’ll go see what’s holding him up.” Bill scrambled to his feet and practically ran out the door in an effort to get away from Molly and her questions.

She didn’t care if she scared him silly or if he wet his pants. He was all her father could afford after discovering his partner’s embezzlement, which meant unless Molly had a better idea, that bumbling excuse for a lawyer held her father’s life in his hands.

From the moment Molly had shown up on the general’s doorstep, he’d accepted her into his heart and made her a part of his close-knit family. She might not feel as if she was completely a part of the family yet but she couldn’t deny how badly she wanted to be. She’d also grown to love the man and she intended to see to it that he lived his life outside prison walls.

Another ten minutes passed before Bill walked back into the room. “They said they’re shorthanded and can’t bring him down right now.”

And he’d stood for that? Molly had had it. She needed a lawyer who would break down walls to get her father free. She needed Daniel Hunter. Without pausing to let herself think about what that would entail, she slung her bag over one shoulder and made a beeline for the exit.

“Where are you going?” Bill asked, running after her. “We have strategy to discuss. The guards said he’d be here within the hour.”

Molly glanced over her shoulder. “I’m going to do what I should have done the minute I got the call that my father was arrested,” she said to the dim-witted attorney. “Tell Dad I’ll be back to see him tomorrow, but not to worry. I have a plan.”

Bill blanched, his white, pasty skin turning even paler. “Aren’t you going to share it with me? I’m his lawyer.”

Not for much longer, Molly thought. To Bill, she said, “It’s on a need-to-know basis and right now, you don’t need to know.”

Her plan hinged on getting the best criminal lawyer she knew to represent her father, but the chances of Hunter agreeing to help her were slim. After all, she hadn’t ended things between them on a positive note. Hunter had offered to uproot his life and his practice and leave town with her. To go wherever she needed to run to so they could be together. She’d walked away from him instead.

Although she’d had her reasons, she held no illusions that he understood. Then or now. It wouldn’t matter to him that she’d never stopped caring, never stopped thinking of him. After the way she’d rejected him, Molly had no choice but to visit him in person if she wanted him to even consider representing her father.

Faced with the sudden prospect of seeing Hunter again, Molly’s stomach churned with a combination of excitement, panic and fear. She would have to risk everything by trusting her father’s life and the rest of the family’s future to Hunter.

A man who probably hated her guts.

MOLLY KNEW she could make the drive to Albany in one day. Three hours there, three hours back. She could do it, but first she had gone home to change into comfortable driving clothes, and yes, gather her nerve. In the privacy of the guest room where she was staying until she decided where she wanted to live more permanently, she tossed a few spare things into a duffel bag in case she had to stop overnight.

She didn’t miss the irony of her situation now. Over the last year, she hadn’t been able to think about anything more than how to fit in here. She’d taken one step at a time, trying to gain the trust of her two half sisters and her grandmother who’d ruled the family since her father’s wife died nine years ago. Now she found herself in charge of keeping them together by calling on Daniel Hunter.

Drawing a deep breath, she headed downstairs.

She’d almost reached the front door when she heard her half sister Jessie speak. “My father’s been arrested for murder. That ought to do wonders for my social life.”

Molly rolled her eyes. Jessie was fifteen years old. Teen being the operative syllable. Angst and drama were typical overreactions to even the slightest shift in her half sister’s universe.

At fifteen, Molly had been taking care of herself for years. She hadn’t had time to indulge in tantrums or histrionics. She’d been a mini adult for as long as she could remember, which put her in the position of not being able to relate to Jessie. And since Jessie didn’t want anything to do with Molly, she found herself at a stalemate with the teen.

“You can be such a brat.” The well-deserved verbal smack came from Robin, Molly’s twenty-year-old half sister, who like Molly had grown up too fast. Her mother had died while Molly’s had just been perpetually absent. She liked Robin and not just because the other woman had accepted her without question. Robin was an all-around good soul and there were too few of those, at least in Molly’s world.

She had planned to sneak out without conversation but she realized she should tell them she’d be gone for the rest of the day and possibly night. Although she still wasn’t used to living in a house with other people, where her goings and comings would be questioned and dissected, she’d been trying to train herself to do just that.

She stepped toward her father’s office where the rest of the family was apparently gathered.

“Shut up,” Jessie said to her sister. She never gave up without a fight. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“But I do.”

Molly grinned as Edna Addams spoke in a firm, commanding tone that explained why the older woman was more often known as Commander rather than Grandma. She was the general’s mother, which made her Molly’s grandma, too. Molly stepped into the doorway at the same time the double thud of the commander’s cane hitting the floor caused everyone to snap to attention.

Edna stood in the center of the room, her focus on her youngest granddaughter. “And I suggest you stop worrying about yourself and think about your father’s situation instead.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Jessie’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

Edna strode to her granddaughter’s side and stroked her long, brown hair. “I know you didn’t, but as I’ve said before, you need a permanent yield sign between your brain and your mouth, so you can take the time to think before you speak.”

Molly nodded, silently applauding. “Let’s try to concentrate on what’s important and that’s helping Dad,” she suggested as she entered the room.

Jessie whirled around, the hair she’d spent hours straightening this morning in the bathroom she shared with Molly flipping over her shoulder as she moved. “Dad?” she asked. Her tears were gone, replaced by sarcasm and anger, which was as usual, directed at Molly. “That’s rich since you didn’t even know him until a little while ago. He’s our dad.” She gestured between herself and Robin. “Not yours.”

“Jessie!” Edna and Robin yelled in unison and shared horror.

Molly’s heart clenched tight in her chest and almost immediately a headache threatened, one of the migraines she’d fought since childhood.

Despite being used to Jessie’s outbursts, the teenager’s verbal abuse still stung. Was it so much to want everyone in this family to accept her? She’d already paid her dues as a child born out of wedlock and lies, and she’d spent a lifetime believing the man she thought was her father didn’t have any more time for her than her mother had.

She was damn tired of putting up with Jessie’s crap, but out of respect for her father and for the sake of family peace, Molly had bit her tongue. She’d hoped in return, Jessie would eventually come around but, so far, no such luck.

“Apologize to Molly.” Robin perched her hands on her slender hips.

Molly hated that her other sister fought her battles. Turning on Jessie now wouldn’t help anyone, but soon they would have to come to terms with each other.

“I mean it,” Robin said in the face of her sister’s silence.

Jessie looked to her grandmother for salvation.

But the older woman merely shook her head and tacked on another command for the teen to follow. “Now,” Edna instructed and leaned on her cane, waiting for the obligatory I’m sorry to come from Jessie’s lips.

Without warning, Jessie let out a loud groan. “You always take her side,” she said on a misunderstood wail. Then she stomped her feet dramatically as she flung her body out of the family room.

“Crybaby, crybaby,” Edna’s macaw crowed from his cage across the room.

Leave it to the mouthy bird to make his presence known now, Molly thought. A quick glance out the family-room door told her Jessie had already fled far from hearing distance.

“Never you mind,” Edna said to her pet. She turned to Molly and Robin. “I’ll speak with Jessie. She can’t talk to you that way.”

“Just let her go.” Molly dismissed her half sister’s behavior with a wave, pretending to be unfazed by the outburst.

“Only if you promise to ignore her. Sometimes Jessie acts like she’s fifteen going on thirty and other times she behaves more like she’s three,” Robin said, her blue eyes flashing with regret. She walked over and placed a comforting hand on Molly’s shoulder.

“Amen to that.” Molly managed a laugh and tried not to squirm beneath Robin’s touch. Unused to any kind of affection, she was still growing accustomed to the gestures that came so easily to the rest of the family. She didn’t want to insult them though or discourage their attempts to reach out to her. Besides, Robin’s caring was exactly what she’d needed when she’d arrived here. She’d left Hunter behind and it had helped to know she’d found something solid. Not that it replaced him or the place he could have had in her life.

“What’s with the duffel bag?” the commander asked, interrupting Molly’s thoughts.

“You’re leaving?” Robin asked, panic in her voice.

Molly shook her head. “I have to go see a friend about Dad.” Despite Jessie’s outburst, the word flowed easily off Molly’s tongue, due completely to how Frank had pulled her into his home and his family.

Robin’s shoulders relaxed. She leaned forward, her hands folded over each other on the desktop. “I worry about leaving you and Jess alone when I go back to school.”

Robin attended Yale on partial scholarship with her father assuming responsibility for the rest. General Addams believed it was a parent’s job to pay for his child’s education and Molly respected him for it. They’d had more than one discussion that ended in an argument because he wanted to take over Molly’s student loans.

As much as she appreciated the offer, she wouldn’t hear of it. She paid her own way. She’d never emulate her mother’s behavior of taking from others. Living in this house was as much of a handout as she was willing to accept. It was a compromise she made in order to have a real family.

Molly laughed. “Don’t worry. Your sister and I won’t kill each other while you’re gone. I still hold out hope we’ll make peace, eventually.”

Robin nodded. “Just don’t think anyone would hold it against you if you did strangle her.” She grinned, then her gaze shifted to the suitcase once more. “So what can this friend do about our father’s arrest?”

“Praise the Lord and load the ammunition,” the macaw said.

Molly chuckled.

“I swear, I’m buying that bird a muzzle,” Robin uttered the threat made by everyone in the house at one time or another against the noisy pet.

Edna shook her vibrant red head.

Molly wondered if her grandmother had changed her hair’s shade yet again. On meeting the commander for the first time, Molly had immediately discovered she’d inherited the other woman’s passion for bold, standout colors. Although, Molly had to admit, since moving here she’d packed away her most vibrant outfits. Fear of not fitting in had been too great. But Edna changed her hair color weekly depending on which color of Miss Clairol she picked up at the local CVS. Molly never knew what the other woman would look like from one day to the next and she looked forward to the adventure. Edna and Molly had hit it off immediately, Edna becoming the maternal influence Molly had never had. Another thing she didn’t want to lose.

“I don’t know what you expect from the poor bird. I told you I rescued him from two men in South America, one a preacher, the other a pharmaceutical salesman.”

“You mean a drug dealer?” Robin asked sweetly.

Edna ignored her.

“Me padre,” the bird said next.

Edna smiled. “You do your namesake proud, Ollie.”

Robin laughed. “I’m sure Oliver North would be thrilled to know you named a foulmouthed parrot after him.”

“Bite me,” Ollie replied.

“Right back at you,” Robin muttered.

Molly chuckled again. “Now children, no bickering,” she said before turning her attention back to their problem. “I have an old friend who might be able to help with Dad’s representation.”

“Thank God because Dad’s lawyer is a halfwit,” Robin said.

“He’s an imbecile,” Edna agreed, her words accentuated by a sweep of her emerald green sleeve. “In fact, I’d like to see his degree.”

Molly swallowed a laugh. Despite her words, nobody would ever accuse the commander of being ditsy or stupid. She was book smart, people smart and street smart, all knowledge born of firsthand experience. After her husband died, she’d traveled extensively, visiting different cultures and countries until she had returned home to help her son raise his children. With Jessie she’d had her hands full.

“I was hoping the police would realize their mistake and free Dad, but that’s not happening,” Molly said. Having collared their man, the Dentonville, Connecticut police weren’t looking any further. “So I’ll be back after I try to talk my friend into taking Dad’s case.”

Robin jumped up from her seat in excitement. “Who is he and how do you know him?” She perched on the corner of the big mahogany desk, ready to hear all.

“Most importantly, can you be sure he’ll help us?” Edna asked, walking closer, cane in hand.

They’d cornered her, and Molly swallowed hard. “His name is Daniel Hunter.” Her words sounded rusty, foreign after a year of thinking about him but never speaking his name.

“Oh my God!” Robin practically squealed. “The man who represented the governor’s son on a rape charge and got him off? I watched the trial on Court TV.” Her half sister’s blue eyes sparkled like their father’s, the resemblance between them unmistakable.

While Molly had inherited her mother’s brown eyes, she’d been pleased to discover her bone structure bore more than a passing resemblance to the general’s.

“Am I right? Is that him?” Robin asked.

“One and the same,” she told her family. “Like I said, he’s an old friend.” She chose her words wisely.

“He’s gorgeous,” Robin said. “The girls would get together to watch him in my dorm. The man is a genuine hunk.”

“Hubba hubba,” Ollie said, shaking his big green feathers and scattering pellets onto the rug beneath him.

Hunter was a hunk all right, Molly thought, and felt a heated flush settle in her cheeks.

“So he’ll do this for you, right?” Robin asked.

The hope in her voice tugged at Molly’s heart and she wished she could give her half sister the answer she desperately needed.

“I can’t say for sure. We didn’t actually part on the best of terms.” She held no illusions. Hunter would not be happy to hear from her at all.

Molly glanced down, recalling the hurt and devastation in his eyes when she’d rejected him. Her stomach twisted with regret but she couldn’t change the facts. Hunter had grown up in foster care. The little boy who was convinced nobody could love him had grown into a man who believed the same. And Molly had done nothing but prove him right. He’d put his heart in her hands and she’d squashed it.

“You were more than friends with Daniel Hunter, weren’t you?” Edna asked with all the gentle wisdom provided by her years.

Molly glanced up and met her grandmother’s warm gaze, wishing not for the first time that she’d had this kind of compassion and caring during the difficult years she’d spent growing up alone.

“Hunter and I, we were complicated.” But Hunter was nothing if not passionate about his work. She was counting on that passion to help persuade him. “If I can convince him to take the case, he’ll make sure justice is done regardless of his personal feelings. It just depends on whether he’s gotten over things enough to help me.”

“Oh great. It’s not enough that you turned our world upside down by showing up here but now Dad’s life depends on you and some guy you screwed?” Jessie reentered the room as dramatically as she’d left it.

The commander smacked her cane against the floor in response to her rude words.

The young girl flinched but didn’t miss a beat. “Screwed over. Dad’s life depends on some guy she screwed over,” she quickly added.

Robin groaned.

“Hey, it’s what I meant to say but as usual nobody gave me a chance to finish.”

Molly shut her eyes and silently counted to ten.

Then she rose and walked over to where her half sister stood leaning against the door frame. “You and I are going to have to come to a truce of some kind because I’m sick and tired of your bullshit,” Molly said, telling Jessie off for the first time since she’d walked into the house.

Her father had welcomed her into this home and nobody, especially not the youngest, most obnoxious member of the family was going to tell her differently.

The young girl’s eyes opened wide at Molly’s words. “What if I don’t want to?” she asked defiantly.

Beneath the bravado, Molly noticed the shakiness in her tone. That was Jessie’s tell. Her attitude couldn’t quite hide her insecurity and fear, not when her voice gave her away. “You may not want to but you’ll do it anyway. Would you like to know why?”

Edna and Robin remained quiet in the background, but Molly felt their silent support.

“Why?” Jessie lifted her chin a notch.

“For the same reasons you hate me. Frank’s my father, too, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Jessie glanced away, then predictably stomped out of the room.

And that, Molly thought, was that.

Robin applauded without making a sound, while Edna nodded her approval. The knot in Molly’s stomach eased slightly as she realized neither of them would turn their backs on her because she’d taken a stand.

“Good luck,” Edna said. “I’m going to the kitchen.” She made her way out of the room.

“I’ll be in my room studying.” Robin paused and glanced at Molly. “Good luck.” She winked and walked out.

Molly inclined her head. “I’ll need it.” Much more than anyone knew.

“Squawk!”

Molly walked over to Ollie’s cage and looked inside, making eye contact with the bird.

At least she thought she was making eye contact. “You could have a little more faith in me, you know. Hunter might be happy to hear from me.”

“Squawk!” Molly interpreted that to mean when hell freezes over. She scowled at the bird before picking up her bag and heading to her car.

DANIEL HUNTER ROLLED and stretched his arm across the width of his king-size bed. His hand hit something solid and he came awake quickly but not easily. His head pounded and his mouth tasted like cotton, but neither of those things bothered him as much as the realization that he wasn’t alone.

He peeled open one eye and glanced over at the brunette in his bed.

Shit.

Allison had stayed over. Although she wasn’t a one-night stand, she was as close as he could get in his small town. No strings would better describe their relationship, such as it was. He’d always made sure she left right after sex, after he’d complimented and cajoled her into taking off. He glanced at her sleeping form and wondered how to keep an easy thing going yet avoid an awkward morning after. He had no damn clue, so he closed his eyes in the hopes she’d wake up and leave in silence.

One hell of a way to wake up, he thought and immediately wondered what the hell he was doing to himself. He worked like a dog by day and pounded alcohol and screwed disposable women at night. It wasn’t a routine he was proud of and when the woman beside him stirred, she merely reinforced the fact that the instant replay of his life in general wasn’t particularly appealing.

A quick glance at the clock told him it was already almost noon. On Saturday. Yeah, things were going to hell and fast, he thought, just as the jarring ring of the doorbell jolted his aching head, preventing what would have been a trip down memory lane that detailed why his life had taken a downhill dive.

He grabbed for the jeans he’d left on the floor by the bed and headed to the door of his Albany-based apartment. Before he made his way there, the doorbell rang again. And again.

Whoever was behind it had the patience of a woodpecker. “Shut up, I’m coming,” Hunter muttered. “What do you want?” he demanded as he swung the door open wide, then stared at his visitor in utter shock.

The woman standing in front of him had to be a ghost or a vision because she sure as hell couldn’t be real. He wondered if he could be hungover and having a nightmare at the same time. Molly Gifford had walked out of his life without looking back.

“Molly?” he finally asked stupidly.

“Hi, there.” She raised a hand before dropping her arm back to her side.

Her familiar voice assured him he wasn’t dreaming. And a thorough once-over told him she hadn’t been suffering during their time apart. She wore tight-fitting jeans tucked into red cowboy boots he remembered well, mostly because he’d envisioned those legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her moist, slick heat.

Not that he’d had the chance. During the last months he’d decided that he must’ve been the only guy in the history of mankind to fall in love with a woman he’d never screwed.

He cleared his throat and leaned against the wall for support. Between his aching head and cotton-filled mouth, thinking let alone speaking clearly was beyond him.

Her hair had grown longer, the blond strands falling over her shoulders, and a wisp of side bangs dipped over her forehead. She brushed them out of her eyes and studied him, her nose crinkling. “I woke you, didn’t I?” she asked, her normally confident voice tinged with uncertainty.

Suddenly he felt self-conscious, too, and he ran his hand through his messed-up hair. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story. Too long to tell from the hallway. May I come in?” She leaned up on her toes, trying to look past him into the apartment.

He was barely awake, his head pounded like a son of a bitch, and now Molly decided to show up for a talk. “Yeah, yeah. Come on in.” Daniel gestured for her to come inside.

She walked past him. Her fragrant, delicious scent smacked him in the face, reminding him like nothing else could of all he’d never have. Of why he was living day to day and not giving a shit about much of anything at all.

She gingerly stepped toward the TV room and he followed, taking in his living space at a glance. “I’d ask you to sit but as you can see there’s no room.”

“I can see that.” She turned toward him, questions in her eyes.

And in her brown eyes, he saw his life for what it had become. Really saw things for the first time. As a teen in foster care and a later a juvy facility, he’d promised himself he’d overcome his past-not just the parents who hadn’t wanted him, but the dirt and poverty surrounding him. Although he lived in an upscale high-rise in Albany, he lived like his parents and foster parents had. Beer cans littered the table, papers legal and otherwise were strewn across the couch and the floor, and an empty pizza box sat open on the pass-through counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. Nothing like being caught at his worst by a woman he’d once have done anything to impress, Hunter thought. Somehow he managed not to wince.

He straightened his shoulders to face her. He didn’t owe Molly an explanation. He didn’t owe her a damn thing. “Molly, why the hell are you here?”

“Well-” She breathed in deep. His gaze settled on her chest, which rose and fell beneath her tight but unusually bland beige-colored tee. He hated the effect she had on him, hated himself for wanting her though he knew she no longer felt the same. Assuming she ever had.

“Hunter? Come back to bed.”

Allison. He’d forgotten all about her. “Shit.” He glanced upward, seeing his life reduced to nothingness like the lone cracks in the ceiling.

Allison shuffled into the room, his unbuttoned shirt wrapped around her body, secured only by her arms. “It’s cold in here alone, baby.”

“Oh my God. You have company,” Molly said, the stark horror in her voice clear.

“Who’s this?” Allison asked sleepily.

Molly jerked at the sound of Allison’s voice. “You weren’t sleeping. You were…” Her voice trailed off. “Oh God.”

And Hunter stood frozen, staring at Molly’s stricken expression. The pain in his head had nothing on the sudden gut-wrenching cramp in his stomach. He had no reason to feel guilty or feel as if he’d been caught doing something awful, like cheating on her. She’d left him.

“Hunter?” Allison asked again. “Who is she?”

“I’m…nobody. This was a mistake.” Molly pulled her bag closer to her side, turned and ran for the door.

Her sudden movement brought Hunter out of the hangover, out of the fog of the past year and out of the shock caused by seeing Molly again.

He turned to Allison long enough to issue an order. “Get dressed. Please. We’ll talk when I get back.” Then he bolted toward the open door and ran into the hall, following Molly.

He wasn’t fast enough. The elevator doors slammed shut before he could reach her.

“Dammit.” He slammed his fist against the closed metal doors, then headed for the stairwell instead.