Molly's Mr. Wrong

by Jeannie Watt

  And Mike was a cat dad, too. Only this was Mike’s second kid. Marcel, the big orange cat who haunted the warehouse, had also been a foundling—a few weeks older than Buddy when he’d been found hiding under a pallet, so he hadn’t required a bottle.

  Once Buddy was fed and changed, so to speak, Finn settled him in his warmed box and headed out the side door of his house to the detached garage. The rain had finally stopped and the forecast was bright and clear for the next several days, but the path to the shop was so muddy that he sidestepped it and walked on the grass. He’d left the hood of the truck up in order to discourage mice and other creatures from building nests on the engine block. When Buddy got older, maybe he could take care of the rodent problem. Finn smiled a little. Right now Buddy was barely larger than a rodent.

  He walked over to the bench, where he’d started cutting sheet metal to fabricate a gas tank to replace the rusted-out one on the Ford. He liked working by hand, loved the feeling of losing himself in the process as he made a tank or fender or whatever else had caught his fancy. His dad had been something of a legend before the arthritis got so bad that he had to quit. But he could still play golf.

  Finn smiled a little as he put on his pop’s old leather apron and then cleaned the glass on the welding hood. He fired up the welder and went to work on the tank, then, when he was done, he attached a couple more bolts and a few odd shapes of scrap sheet metal to Frankie. The freeform monster sculpture was coming along nicely. If he didn’t weigh a zillion tons, he’d put him on the lawn for Halloween.

  As he cleaned up his tools, cleared his bench, he thought again of his dad, who’d put in a lot of long hours with Mike at the feed store and had expected Finn to do the same. He’d probably still be there if he hadn’t been forced into retirement and had his mother not insisted that he move south, out of the cold.

  He glanced at the old starburst clock his mom had thrown out and his father had rescued. Too late to call now, but he’d call when he got the chance, tell his dad about his latest projects.

  * * *

  GEORGINA’S COFFEE DATE got postponed to Friday, and somehow turned into early dinner. Molly hadn’t caught all the particulars, but Georgina seemed pleased by the turn of events. So on Friday evening, while Georgina dressed for her date in the red knit dress and cute low cowboy boots, Molly climbed into her favorite flannel pants and oversize T-shirt and settled onto the sofa with a pile of grading.

  Georgina walked through the living room, her head bent to one side as she put on a dangly earring. She fixed the backing, then shook her head when she saw Molly’s nesting spot. “Why you love your profession is beyond me.”

  Molly made a face at her and focused back on the paper she was reading. She really didn’t have to grade at home, but she liked catching up at the end of the week, thereby having a clean slate on Monday as well as having Saturday and Sunday free. Every now and then the plan worked and she actually did have those days free, but most of the time she chose to work even when her grading was done. There was always prep and planning to do. Disappearing into her work had helped save her sanity during the weeks and months following her discovery of Blake’s infidelity, and working all the time had become a habit. Not necessarily a bad one, either.

  She’d just finished reading the last paper and had slipped it into the appropriate folder when her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but since Georgina was out and about and may have had phone issues, she answered. At the sound of the deeply masculine hello, she almost hung up again. Except that Blake said quickly, “Don’t hang up, Molly.”

  So she didn’t. But she didn’t speak, either.

  “Look. I...just wanted to touch base.” And it sounded as if he’d been drinking. Another of his small problems that had grown into a bigger problem during their time together.

  “Have you sold the boat? Because I can give you the address where to send the check.” He was never going to sell the boat, even though he pretended he was going to in order to pay her back all of the money he’d borrowed.

  “I’m going to another team.”

  The curse of the minor leagues. Trades and more trades. Which was why Molly had been glad that he’d been able to stay in Arizona for so long.

  “Which one?” She had to ask.

  “There are a couple of possibilities. I’ll know in a matter of days.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Blake?”

  “Because we had the best relationship I ever had.”

  “I’m hanging up.” He wanted money. He wanted something. And yes, his relationship with her probably was the best he’d ever had, because she’d been so freaking stupid.

  “You’re still my insurance beneficiary.”

  “Make your mom your beneficiary. And tell me what you really want before I hang up.”

  “Molly... I’ve changed. And there are some things you should know—”

  She hung up the phone. Blake wasn’t in love with her. He needed a caretaker. He liked having someone managing his life. They’d broken up over a year ago, and he still couldn’t believe that she wasn’t going to take him back.

  Molly would have turned off the phone, except that she never shut off communications when her sister was out, so instead she blocked Blake’s new number and then went into the kitchen for diet cola and whatever else she could find there.

  Not a big deal. Not a big deal.

  She grabbed a bag of chips she had stashed away for emergency situations and after opening the fridge, nixed the Diet Coke and pulled out the chardonnay. Why not?

  Molly was halfway through a movie she couldn’t concentrate on when Georgina let herself into the house, humming under her breath as she hung her car keys on the pegboard next to the door. A few seconds later she came into the living room, pulling off her earrings.

  “How was your date?” Molly asked just a little too brightly. She’d have to watch her tone or she’d be on the wrong end of an interrogation.

  Her sister pretended to consider the question for all of a split second before breaking into a wide smile. “It was great.”

  She dropped her purse on the easy chair and disappeared into the kitchen, coming back a few minutes later with a glass of water. She sat on the opposite side of the sofa from Molly and eased off her shoes.

  “Chips?”

  “When one stays home alone on a Friday night, one gets to indulge.”

  “When one comes home, one gets to indulge also.” Georgina held out her hand and Molly passed her the half-empty bag.

  “I gotta tell you, it’s refreshing to go out with a guy who isn’t all into telling you about himself. I think I got equal time.” Her eyebrows drew together. “No. I probably got sixty or sixty-five percent of the time.”

  “Is he shy?”

  “That’s probably part of it. But I think he was actually interested in hearing what I had to say.”

  “That is refreshing,” Molly said with a half smile, holding her hand out for the chip bag.

  “I thought so. We’re going hiking on Saturday. Do you still have your hiking boots?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You were a bit purge-happy after...you know.”

  “True. But the hiking boots live on.”

  “Can I borrow them?”

  “You won’t sweat in them, will you?”

  “Nope. I’ll return them in sweat-free condition.”

  “In that case, sure.”

  Georgina reached out for the bag and Molly handed it back. “Chase has a big brother.”

  “Good for Chase,” Molly said.

  “Just saying...you know...in case you ever wanted to go to coffee with a guy who listens to you.”

  “Blake listened.” He’d had his faults, but not listening wasn’t one of them, which had lulled her into a false
sense of security. They’d had some great conversations. Then he betrayed her. And now he wanted her to forget all that. As if.

  “I’m not talking about a serious relationship. I’m talking about a casual date with a guy who’s...nice. Like Chase.”

  “Let me think on it.”

  Georgina gave her a yeah-right look, then got to her feet. “I need more than chips.” She started for the kitchen.

  “Not me,” Molly muttered, pulling another handful out of the bag. She and this bag were in it for the long haul.

  * * *

  SINCE MOLLY HAD blocked Blake’s new number, she had no idea if he’d called again. She’d found that there was a pattern to his calls—when he hit a rough spot, he called, and since he was an aging athlete in a profession that was prone to upsets, he seemed to be hitting more and more rough patches. At least he hadn’t shown up on her doorstep, and hopefully he would end up on the opposite side of the country when he was traded. That happy thought got Molly through her first two classes. She settled at her desk with a cup of coffee during the hour she had off between her two literature classes and typed Blake’s name into a search engine.

  Florida. Please, Florida...

  Not Florida.

  Molly read the lead twice. Blake Cook was no longer playing—he had just signed on as a manager/coach for a Montana team. The Butte Tommyknockers.

  Damn it all.

  Had this been one of the things he’d tried to tell her Friday night? No doubt.

  It doesn’t matter. It isn’t like he’s going to stalk you. Much.

  Molly jumped to her feet. She needed to move. She really needed to move. So she did—flat into Finn’s chest as he walked into her office.

  “Oh. Sorry.” She felt her cheeks start to flame as she took a stumbling step backward. “I can’t even blame this on not wearing my glasses.” Which had slid to the end of her nose in the impact. She pushed them back into place with her forefinger.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “You look rattled.”

  Probably because she was rattled. Rattled by the fact that Blake was once again in her part of the country. Rattled that when Finn had reached out to take her arm to steady her, she’d almost forgotten. Her awareness of this guy was ridiculous and in some ways worse than it’d been back in her teen crush years. It didn’t help matters that he actually looked concerned about her.

  “What happened, Molly?”

  She shrugged and adjusted her glasses one more time. “You startled me. That’s all. How can I help you?”

  He gave her a look that clearly said that she wasn’t fooling him. Old Molly, awkward Molly, tried to take over and start blushing or something, but new Molly was having none of that. She nodded at the papers in Finn’s hand. “English, I assume?”

  He gave an unsmiling nod, his gaze still holding hers.

  “I tried to work ahead on those sites you gave me. I kind of hit a wall with the online stuff. I’m missing as many as I’m getting right and I need a shove in the right direction. And these are your Monday office hours. Right?”

  “Right.” She took his papers and started looking them over. “I’m glad you came by.”

  “That bad?”

  She looked over the top of her glasses. “No. I mean the last time you were in my office...” Her voice trailed off and she realized that she didn’t want to say anything that would keep him from coming back if he needed help. Personal feelings and prejudices aside, her job was to teach him English.

  “When I asked you to coffee and you said no.”

  “It wasn’t personal.”

  He gave her a Really? look and Molly felt her color start to rise. Go away, old Molly.

  “All right,” she conceded. “A little personal.” She heard a tiny squeak as she spoke and frowned at Finn, who shifted uncomfortably. He put his hand in his roomy hoodie pouch, but she would have sworn the pocket moved before he’d stuck his hand inside.

  “I...uh...” He looked over his shoulder. “Have a friend with me.” He pulled a tiny gray kitten out of his pocket.

  Molly’s eyes went wide. “Where did you get that?”

  “Under my porch. Last week. Something happened to the mother, I guess, after she stashed him there. She hasn’t been back.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve left food out. Nothing. Mike and I are sharing custody because it involves feeding him every three hours. It’s my turn to take him and I was on my way home.”

  She looked past him to the door, then moved around him to shut it, watching the kitten the entire time. “Let me take a look...” She took the papers he held in his free hand and spread them out on her desk. “Okay. I see what you’re doing here. Or not doing.” She raised her eyes and found herself staring into the hazel depths of his. Too much guy, way too close. And he had a kitten.

  “Why don’t you sit down and we can go over the ones you’ve gotten wrong.”

  Finn sat and Molly positioned the paper on her desk so they could both see it. But her eyes kept straying to the little bundle of fur he held in one hand.

  “May I?” she asked.

  Finn smiled and handed the kitten to her. “His name is Buddy.”

  “Hello, Buddy.” She held him up to look into his adorable face. “My heart is melting. Right here. Right now. And he’s so soft.” She glanced up to see Finn studying her with an odd look, but ignored it as she focused back on the cuteness incarnate now snuggled into her palm.

  Molly settled in her chair, cuddling the kitty against her chest, stroking his tiny back. A moment later he started to vibrate beneath her hand. “He’s purring.”

  “He just started a couple days ago.”

  “You aren’t carrying him around to get women, are you?”

  “Mike suggested that I do just that.”

  “Somehow I don’t think you need a kitten to get a woman.”

  Had she really just said that out loud? Crap.

  “I told Mike the same thing.”

  “This is a small room, Finn. If your ego joins us, one of us might have to wait out in the hall.”

  “Ha. Ha. Funny.”

  “Wasn’t meant to be,” she said with a straight face. Amusement lit his eyes.

  The kitten continued to purr as Molly held him with one hand and she explained the sentence structure issues that were tripping him up. When she was done, she felt as if she were once again in control of the situation. That his...hotness...wasn’t getting the better of her. Thank goodness for her teacher self—for new Molly. “I know it’s not easy to come here and ask questions.”

  For a moment she thought Finn was going to deny it, but instead he said, “I have to be honest. I don’t know how much of my difficulty is because I might have dyslexia, and how much is because I honestly didn’t give two hoots about English in high school.”

  “A little of both, maybe?” Molly stroked the kitten, rubbing behind his small ears and over his back. “Maybe we should set up a tutoring schedule...if you bring the kitten, of course.”

  She was only half kidding. Holding the little guy was seriously relaxing. “Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes twice a week. Mondays and Wednesdays. I can answer your questions. We can schedule more time if you need it.”

  “And if I don’t bring the kitten?”

  “Ten minutes, once a week.”

  The corners of his mouth lifted. At least he understood that she was joking. She wondered, from the way he was looking at her, if he also understood how deeply aware she was of him. Not that she couldn’t handle it. She could.

  “You drive a hard bargain, Molly.”

  His voice seemed to roll over her, making her heart rate quicken. And that was when she remembered their other bargain. The one she hadn’t fully agr
eed to. The one where he made up for their date. Surely he understood if she didn’t do coffee, she wasn’t going to repeat that date.

  Molly stood and carefully handed the kitten back to him over the desk. Finn’s hands were warm and sturdy, gentle as she transferred the little cat to him.

  “I’m kidding about the kitten,” she said, sounding a touch too formal.

  “I know. Thanks for the help.”

  “What about tutoring?”

  He smiled a little. “I’ll let you know. I appreciate the offer.”

  “Do more than appreciate it. Take advantage.”

  He stopped and turned back. “Here’s the deal, Molly...” He stopped for a moment. “Have you ever had trouble doing anything?”

  “Like meeting people and feeling comfortable? Like coming out of my shell?” Overcoming paralyzing shyness?

  “I think you know what I’m getting at.”

  “I...”

  “Have always been an excellent student. And I have always been an excellent athlete. Now I’m trying to be a student and guess what? I have roadblocks I didn’t even know existed. Even if you pass me because of guilt or differentiation or whatever, it doesn’t mean I can pass the second English class I need. And then what happens to my degree plans?”

  “What degree are you pursuing, Finn?”

  He just shook his head. “What I’m trying to say, Molly, is that if you hold my hand through this, what have I actually accomplished?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  THERE WAS NO reason for Molly to feel frustrated with Finn. So he hadn’t gladly accepted her tutoring offer. It was his life, after all. His academic career. No skin off her nose...except that she wouldn’t get to see the kitten again.