Letters to Molly: Maysen Jar Series - Book 2
Page 26
I’d picked up Molly twenty minutes ago. Mom had arrived early at my place to hang with the kids. She’d promised three times to adhere to their normal bedtime—but we all knew Kali and Max would get to stay up late on a school night.
I’d knocked on the door with two bouquets of lilies in hand: one for Molly’s bedroom and another for the kitchen.
She loved lilies. She said they made the house smell like a fairy garden. As I’d handed over my credit card to the florist, I’d realized it had been much too long since I’d bought her flowers. Molly deserved them weekly, and if this worked, if I won her back, she’d have them.
Maybe by bringing her here to Burger Bob’s, to the place where we’d met, she’d remember that excitement. She’d relax and enjoy an evening out. As it was, she’d been tense on the ride over. She’d been quiet. But the greasy smell in the air, promising a good meal, would loosen her up. I was sure of it.
I wasn’t planning on talking about anything serious tonight. This meal was all about spending time with each other. I wasn’t going to tell Molly that I was in love with her. I wasn’t going to tell her I wanted to move home and sell my place. I wasn’t going to tell her that we didn’t need to forget our past because I forgave her. I was working on forgiving myself.
I wasn’t going to beg her to pardon me for all of the wrong I’d done in our marriage.
Those declarations would come.
Tonight, I wanted to soak up her smile and savor her laughter.
Molly sat at the table first, tucking her purse underneath. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans that showcased the gorgeous curve of her hips. Her hair was down, falling across her bare arms and the thin straps of the gray satin and lace tank top she’d chosen—thank you, Mother Nature, for the unseasonably warm Montana October.
Molly looked sexy as hell. It had been hard not to take her into my arms on her doorstep, but I’d resisted, biding my time for a good-night kiss later tonight when I dropped her at home.
“You know what I love most about this place?” Her eyes roamed over the high ceilings, the wooden tables—years of scratches on their surfaces—and the plethora of frames with photos of Bozeman memorabilia adorning the walls. “It never changes. It always smells the same and feels the same. Since college, it’s never changed.”
I stretched my hand across the table to cover hers. “Thank you for coming here tonight.”
“You’re welcome.” She flipped her hand over so we were palm to palm. The hair ties on her wrist tickled my skin. “Why did you ask me on a date?”
“You know the reason.”
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Why’d you pick Burger Bob’s?”
“To remember. And to start again.” I wrapped my fingers around her hand. “There are other things in this room that haven’t changed since college.”
“Like the grease coating the floor?”
“No.” I chuckled then locked my eyes with hers. “Like when you’re in the room, you’re all I see.”
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes darting to our hands. If she was going to say something, it got lost when two plastic menus were set down on the table.
“Welcome, guys. What can I get you to drink?” the waitress asked.
Molly and I each ordered a beer. As the waitress left to get them, I released Molly’s hand to scoop up both menus. “May I order for you?”
“Yes, but I reserve the right to interject if you get it wrong.”
“Wrong.” I scoffed. I’d memorized Molly’s cheeseburger order the night I’d met her. And I knew it hadn’t changed in fifteen years.
The waitress appeared with our beers. “What are we having?”
“Two burgers, medium well. Both with extra cheese and extra bacon. Fries with each. Side of ranch with hers. I’m good with ketchup.”
My eyes flicked to Molly. Her chin dropped as she tried to hide a smile. Nailed it.
“Okay.” The waitress collected the menus. “I’ll get this going.”
“Cheers.” Molly raised her beer glass.
I nodded, clinking the rim of mine to hers before taking a drink. “What are you doing next Saturday night?”
“Uh, nothing. Hanging out with the kids. Why?”
“I was wondering if I could take you to a movie.”
“Trying to lock in another date already?” she teased. “That’s risky. What if this one turns into a disaster?”
“As long as I get to spend time with you, it’ll never be a disaster.”
She blushed again and added an eye roll. “Laying it on awfully thick tonight.”
“Isn’t courting all about the man doling out these gushing compliments to woo his woman?”
Her eyebrows came together as she studied me for a moment. “You’re courting me?”
“I’m trying.”
“I, um . . .” She swallowed hard. “Oh.”
We sat in silence for a few moments, sipping our beers, until she said, “Yes. I’d love to go to a movie.”
“Darling, the pleasure will be all mine.”
“I’ll ask Poppy if they can take the kids.”
“Already did. She’s in.”
Molly fought a smile then glanced over at the corner booth on the opposite side of the room. “I haven’t been here in years. Not since . . .”
Not since Jamie had been killed.
“Me neither.” There were quite a few places in Bozeman that I’d stopped going to simply because the memories with Jamie were imprinted into the walls. Burger Bob’s was one of them. It had been a favorite hangout for all of us in college. We often found ourselves here for a late-night burger and some laughs.
But it was time to put those ghosts to rest too. It was another reason I’d chosen this place for our date. I wanted Molly to see that his death wasn’t going to plague me. Not anymore.
“It’s not as hard as I thought it would be,” she said. “It’s bittersweet. I’ll always miss Jamie. But I can’t imagine a life without Cole.”
“I feel the same. I think it took a long time for me to realize it wasn’t this or that. It’s and. We had Jamie. And we have Cole.”
“Cole.” Molly frowned. “I got a parking ticket the other day when my meter ran out, and he wouldn’t fix it for me. Asshole.”
We both laughed and conversation turned easy. For hours. We didn’t talk about the kids or work. We just talked about life. What TV shows I’d been watching. Molly told me about a book she’d recently read. When our dinners came, we ate, chewing fast so we could talk some more.
“I’m so full.” Molly sighed. Her plate had the last few remains of her burger and a few uneaten fries. “That was delicious.”
“Would you like dessert?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I have no room.”
“Okay.” I glanced over my shoulder, getting the waitress’s attention for the check. The restaurant was busy, even for a Sunday.
“I’m going to use the restroom before we go,” Molly said then ventured to the back of the room as the waitress came over to take my credit card and to clear away the dishes.
I studied the table, its dents and dings, smiling at how the evening had gone. It was the best date we’d had, with the exception of the first. And I wanted more. A lot more. A lifetime of more.
“Finn?” I looked up from the table, surprised to hear Bridget’s voice. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I smiled. “What are you up to?”
“Raylene and I were just grabbing some dinner.” She held up a finger to her friend, who went in search for a table while Bridget came over to mine. “Are you just getting here? You can join us.”
“About to head out, actually.”
“I didn’t know you were going to eat alone. You should have called me. I would have met you for dinner.”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “I’m not alone.”
Bridget’s smile fell and the slightest wince pulled at her cheeks. Her eyes darted away too.
>
A reaction that made my cheeseburger churn.
When we’d had our big blowup, Molly had said Bridget was in love with me. I hadn’t thought much about it since because emotions had been running high that day. There had been many more important things in that fight to focus on than my employee.
But had Molly been right? Was Bridget in love with me?
My mind raced as I thought back to all the times the two women had been together. Even in the beginning, Bridget had never really warmed to Molly. Not that they’d worked together much. I’d taken Bridget under my wing, and in those early days, we’d been together from clock-in to clock-out.
There’d been times in more recent years when a girlfriend of mine would stop by Alcott. Brenna used to come down and bring lunch on occasion. I couldn’t recall if Bridget had even said hello.
Oh, fuck.
Molly was right. I’d been blind.
“Finn?” Bridget touched my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Excuse me.” Molly cleared her throat.
I jumped, twisting in my seat. The movement knocked Bridget’s hand off my arm. The frown on Molly’s face was as unwelcome as the realization that my most trusted and loyal employee had feelings for me.
Bridget looked between the two of us, putting the pieces together. Then she looked at me, her eyes wide and full of judgment. “She is your date?”
“Would you mind?” Bridget was blocking Molly’s chair. She took a step forward in an attempt to make Bridget back off. “I need to get my purse.”
Bridget didn’t budge. And I knew her well enough to know she’d dug her heels in. She’d make Molly walk all the way around to get her purse.
God, I was such a fucking moron. Did all men miss shit like this with women? Or was I especially clueless? I saw it now though. It was lit up brighter than the neon Bud Light sign in the restaurant’s front window.
I stood from the table, inserting myself between the women. It forced Bridget back two steps, giving me enough room so I could duck under the table and retrieve Molly’s purse and pass it over.
She slung it on a shoulder then crossed her arms. Even with them wrapped tight across her chest, her shoulders trembled. Not in fear, but anger. Her eyes were cold as she looked at Bridget.
Molly didn’t hate. Ever. She didn’t antagonize. She didn’t make enemies, which meant for her to look at Bridget like she was ready to wrap her hands around Bridget’s neck, Bridget had pushed much too far.
My protégé—my friend—had been awful to my wife.
It had happened right under my nose, and I’d been oblivious.
“We’d better get going.” I took Molly’s elbow, prying her arms apart. She fought me for a moment then gave in. With her arms hanging by her sides, I captured her hand and held it tightly.
Bridget scowled at our clasped hands, then she looked at me, her eyes full of disbelief. “Really, Finn? Her?”
What the fuck? Who was this stranger? Because she certainly wasn’t the Bridget I’d known for years.
Molly tried to pull her hand away, but I tightened my grip.
“Yes, her. It’s always her.” I pushed past Bridget, tugging Molly along. “See you tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner.”
The fresh evening air was impossible to enjoy as Molly and I walked to my truck. With every step, she retreated away from me, even though our hands stayed locked.
All of the progress we’d made, the good time, had been ruined.
I took some deep breaths as we walked, hoping to calm down. But my anger only burned hotter. We were ten feet from the truck, but I couldn’t take another step.
My feet ground to a halt. “What did she do?”
Molly tried to keep walking. I didn’t loosen my grip. “Let’s just go, Finn.”
“What did she do?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Molly,” I whispered. “Please. Tell me.”
She met my gaze. “You work with her. I don’t want to cause problems with that.”
“There are problems. No matter what you tell me tonight, we’ve got big problems. And I’d really like to hear it. From you.”
Her chin fell as she nodded. “I think she thought I was a joke when she started at Alcott. That I was just your silly wife, pretending to manage a business. She was curt. Polite, but curt. Then we got divorced. The polite stopped.”
My molars ground together as I forced myself to stay quiet and let Molly continue.
“She took your side. I understood that. But she was nasty, always glaring and muttering things behind my back. Then there was that night, the one where I went to Alcott and she called me a bitch while you were watching TV.”
“I swear I didn’t hear it.” I wouldn’t have let that go. Fuck, I hated myself for that night.
She nodded. “I believe you.”
“What else happened?”
“Well, you told her about me. About . . .”
“The other guy.” I closed my eyes. “Fuck. I’m such a fucking idiot. I never should have told her. What did she do?”
“She stopped muttering things behind my back and told me right to my face that I was a whore.”
What. The. Fuck. My vision turned red. “You’re not a whore.”
“No.” She locked my eyes, her spine straightening. “No, I’m not.”
“Anything else?”
“She’s been her usual bitchy self ever since. I’ve avoided her at all costs.”
“Is that why you stopped coming to Alcott?”
I shrugged. “It’s part of it. Mostly I stopped coming because it was yours, not ours anymore.”
“I’m sorry. I want you to know I’m going to make this right.”
“Don’t stress over it.” She squeezed my hand once then nodded toward the truck. “I don’t need that woman’s approval to be happy.”
No, she didn’t. But she did need to know that I had her back.
And tomorrow morning, Bridget and I were having a discussion.
The drive to Molly’s house was quick and quiet. It was hard to block out the incident with Bridget, but I was determined to get this date back on track. So I drove with one hand, the other holding tight to Molly’s so she knew I was there. I wasn’t letting her pull away.
“Thank you,” I said as I pulled into the driveway.
“You’re welcome. I had a nice time. See you later.” She wiggled her hand free.
“Wait.” I stopped her as she reached for the door handle. “I’ll get it.”
“It’s—”
“Please. Let me open your door.”
“All right.”
I hustled out of the truck and to the other side. With her hand in mine as I helped her down, I sent a silent prayer up to the twilight sky. One kiss. Give me one kiss. If I could get an opening for one kiss, I might have a shot at turning this night around.
“Can I escort you to the door?”
“If you insist.” She nodded and let me lead the way. “It’s strange without the ramp. It didn’t take long but I got used to it.”
“I can have them build it again. I know Max would love to have it for his skateboard.”
She laughed. “I’ll get used to the steps again and the way things were.”
We reached the door and she looked up at me. Her hand didn’t go for the knob.
Yes. Someone upstairs still liked me.
Without a word, I cupped Molly’s cheeks in my palms, then I put my lips on hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise.
Her hands came to my chest, tentatively resting on the starched cotton of my button-up. As I coaxed her mouth open and slipped my tongue past the seam, her hands pressed against my chest, her fingers fisting the material as I slanted her head and dove in deeper.
She moaned. I moaned. We surged against one another, my hardness pushing against her hip. Her breasts smashing into my chest.
We kissed hot and wet, each of us panting when I finally pulled away.
“I . . .” She gulped. “Wow.”
“Okay.” Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen. She touched one, the corner of her mouth turning up. “That’s probably smart.”
“Thank you for dinner.”
“That’s my line.”
“I’m sorry about Bridget.”
“It’s fine.” She waved it off. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is. I’ll fix it.” First thing tomorrow morning. I stretched between us, scooping up her hand, and brought her knuckles to my lips for a soft kiss. “Good night, Molly darling.”
“Good night.”
She stood on the porch, leaning against a post as I jogged to my truck and pulled away from the house. She kissed me back. Despite Bridget’s untimely appearance, Molly had kissed me back. The smile on my face stayed in place all the way home.
“Looks like you had a nice time,” Mom said from my couch as I walked inside and tossed my keys on the kitchen counter.
“I did. The kids asleep?”
“Max is. But I told Kali she could read for a while in her bed.”
“Okay. I’m going to go in and say good night.”
Mom pushed up from the couch and came over for a kiss on my cheek. “I’m heading home.”
“Thanks for babysitting.”
“Anytime. And I do mean that. Whatever it takes for you to win Molly over again, I’m here to help. We’ve missed her.”
“You work with her. Daily. You see her more than I do.”
“It’s not the same. She’s missing from our family.”
Christmases. Thanksgivings. The random barbeques we’d had since Mom and Dad had moved home from Alaska. Mom was right. Molly had been missing from our family.
But I’d get her back, and we’d fill that void. And it would never be empty again.
“Drive safe.” I hugged Mom then went down the hallway, toward the golden glow underneath Kali’s door. I eased my way inside, in case she’d fallen asleep. But there she was, her curls still damp from her shower, reading a book propped up on her knees. “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, Daddy.” She closed the book. “How did it go?”
I grinned and crossed the room, bending to kiss her forehead. “Good.”
“Did she say yes to the movie? Or are we going with Plan B?”