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smell the spice of his cologne and see the lines of his lips. What she would give to be able to feel those lips against her own?
    Hunter’s jaw tensed, and he let out a long breath, but he didn’t turn away or give her any space.
    Molly found the strength to tear her gaze away and caught the gigantic spruce tree in the town square beautifully brilliant with all its twinkling lights. She loved Christmas and to her one of the most magical and enchanting sights was a tree aglow.
    “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” she spoke, before realizing how silly she sounded.
    She didn’t dare look back toward him, afraid of the facial result of her immature statement.
    “Never,” was spoken softly and just what she needed to get her feet moving so she wouldn’t embarrass herself anymore.
    Molly began stepping backward, and when she was three feet away, she said, “I better get back in there. Drive safe, Hunter. I’ll see you around.”
    She turned and hightailed it back inside. By the time she had the courage to look out the window, all she could see was two bright taillights heading toward the large Christmas tree. Away from town, and away from her.
     

 

     
     
    “Come on, Jess. You are going to be late!” Molly Jenson called down the hall, looking at her watch for the umpteenth time.
    This teenager will be the death of me.
    She returned to the kitchen and finished making the peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich. She snapped the lid on its container then placed and zipped in Samantha’s lunch box before placing it in her Tinkerbell backpack.
    One thing down, a hundred and twenty more to go.
    “Mommy, how come Jess is always so late? She obviously knows what time school starts,” Sammy asked as she took another bite of her jelly-covered toast.
    “Careful you don’t get your hair in your toast, sweetie,” Molly said, as she quickly walked to the table and pulled Sammy’s long wavy blond locks from their entrapment in her arm.
    Samantha gave Molly plenty of reasons to smile. She was sweet, considerate, and so even keeled in comparison to her sister, even at the spry age of eight. Molly’s youngest daughter loved everything girly; rainbows and ponies all the way to stuffed animals and dress up. But don’t let her fool you, she could make a mud pie like nobody’s business, in her Sunday best to boot.
    Molly watched as Sammy finished her toast with a wide smile, the jelly stuck at the corners. When Molly tossed a kitchen towel at her, Sammy grabbed it with a giggle and mischief in her green eyes.
    “Because I care what I look like, troll kisser!” Jessica answered snarkily when she stepped into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared as if something for breakfast would jump out at her.
    “Jess, stop with the name calling; it isn’t even eight yet. And pick something, electricity doesn’t grow on trees,” Molly pleaded as she continued to fold laundry at the table.
    “Yeah, fart face!” Sammy spat as she stuck her tongue out at her sister.
    Jess had returned with another insult before Molly brought her finger and thumb to her mouth, issuing a loud whistle which the girls knew to mean cool it.
    “Jeez, Mom!” Jess whined as she took an apple from the refrigerator shelf, closed the door with her foot, and sat down next to her sister.
    The clothes dryer buzzed and Molly looked at the clock. Crap! Just never enough time in the day!
    “Okay, we are leaving in five minutes. Sammy, make sure you have your math homework, and Jess, remember to grab the keys to Dad’s house because you are heading over there after school.”
    “Come on! Why do I have to go? She is just going to make me babysit the little brats!” Jess yelled.
    And here we go again.
    “Jessica, I am not going to have this discussion with you again. You know Dad and Tracey love having you girls. And don’t call your brothers brats.”
    “ Step brothers,” Jess hissed, emphasizing the step part. “And they are brats. Dad and Tracey