Molly's Mr. Wrong

by Jeannie Watt

  Laundry. Always laundry.

  So the morning went. Molly caught up on the laundry, hanging out sheets and towels on the backyard clothesline, washing her delicates in the kitchen sink and drying them on a rack in the utility room.

  She swept, mopped, polished and then just after lunch, figuring it was five o’clock somewhere, poured herself a glass of wine. She’d no sooner put the cork in the bottle than there was a knock on the door.

  Mike stood on the porch and Molly opened the door wider when she saw that it was him. “I’m having a little barbecue this afternoon with a friend of mine. Would you and Georgina like to join us?”

  “Georgina is hiking with Chase today. She won’t be back until late afternoon.”

  “How about you, then? You don’t want to spend your day all alone, do you?”

  Well...honestly...yes...

  But something in the old man’s expression made her say, “I’d love to come over. What should I bring?”

  “Just yourself. I have the steaks and my lady friend is bringing the side dishes. Finn covered dessert.”

  Molly had half expected that Finn would be there and now she had confirmation.

  “What time?”

  “We’re thinking three o’clock.”

  “I’ll be there.” It gave her time to change her clothes, put on some makeup. Pretend she wasn’t secretly looking forward to seeing Finn. She was honest enough to admit that she enjoyed the physical rush of being around him. Nothing wrong with that—as long as she remembered her life parameters and goals and acted accordingly.

  Right?

  Besides, it was damned hard to fight biological responses.

  “Sorry about the late notice. Elaine and I were supposed to go to lunch today, but she got waylaid, so I suggested a barbecue this afternoon and she agreed.”

  “A pop-up barbecue.” Mike frowned at her and Molly laughed. “Never mind. Kid talk. I’ll be over shortly.”

  Less than an hour later Molly knocked on Mike’s open door, and he motioned her to come inside and then escorted her through the kitchen, where Finn stood at the sink, popping ice cubes out of a tray, to the charming backyard. Finn glanced at her as she walked by, smiled, made her heart go thump.

  A plumpish woman with salt-and-pepper hair got up from her chair under the apple tree as Molly and Mike stepped out onto the patio.

  Mike motioned at the woman. “Do you know—”

  Molly’s mouth popped open. “Ms. Fitch!”

  “Molly Adamson!”

  Molly wasn’t much of a hugger, but Ms. Fitch headed toward her, arms open, so she met her halfway. “Call me Elaine. It’s good to see you, Molly.”

  “It’s good to be remembered. Are you still teaching?” Molly asked as she stepped back out of the woman’s embrace.

  “No,” Finn said as he emerged from the house carrying a tray of drinks. “My friends and I wore her out.”

  Elaine laughed. “You and about two thousand other freshmen. Note to self—do not teach freshman anything.”

  “I had you my junior year,” Molly said, talking a seat on the opposite side of the picnic table.

  “Which is why I remember you fondly.” She smiled up at Finn as she took the drink he offered her. “This one...” She laughed and Finn’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “Guilty.”

  “Of what?” Molly asked.

  “Probably everything.”

  “Well, you were a charming hell-raiser. I’ll give you that.” Elaine lifted her glass in a toast, then smiled up at Mike as he came to take his seat.

  “Steaks will be ready to go on the grill in about twenty minutes.”

  “I wish you would have let me bring something,” Molly said.

  “Next time.” Mike smiled and turned his attention to Elaine, leaving Molly and Finn facing each other with not a whole lot to say. Molly caught the amusement in his eyes and took charge of the conversation.

  “I told you that you were a hellion. Now I have confirmation.”

  “I never denied.” He lifted his drink, took a sip, and there was something innately sensual in the action.

  “No,” Molly said softly. “You didn’t.” She took a sip of her own drink. Next to her Elaine and Mike began discussing the trials and tribulations of raising headstrong children. Molly could only imagine. No one in her family was headstrong. They’d listened to their parents, did the right thing when they could. None of them were big risk-takers.

  Had they lost out?

  Listening to the stories Mike told as they waited for the grill to heat and the steaks to come to room temperature, Molly half wondered, then told herself, no. A person needed to be wired a certain way to enjoy risky behavior. Blake had been wired that way. He’d enjoyed his double life. He hadn’t come out and admitted it, but it had been pretty obvious as they’d duked it out at the end of their doomed relationship.

  He had no regrets about the taking risks part—only the screwing up the other side of his life part. Thus twelve white tulips. At least there’d been no more flowers, but Molly knew the flowers weren’t for forgiveness alone. Blake would follow up; and she’d have to get tough with him...unless she took the offensive.

  It was then that she noticed that she was grasping her glass so tightly that her fingers had started to go white at the knuckles, and that Finn was studying her with a faint frown. She relaxed her grip on the glass and smiled at him.

  “Taken back by the family tales?” he asked mildly.

  “Actually, I was thinking of a few incidents in my own life.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Some things are best forgotten,” she said lightly and focused on Elaine and Mike. If only those things would stop trying to get in contact with her.

  Mike had just started the steaks when Molly’s phone rang in her pocket. Georgina.

  “We got back early. Where are you?”

  “Mike’s backyard.”

  “Tell her to come over,” Mike called. “I have extra steaks.”

  Molly relayed the message and a few minutes later Georgina showed up, looking windswept and happy.

  “How could I have never hiked before?” she demanded.

  “Uh...you said you’d hate it when I tried to take you with me?”

  Georgina waved her hand dismissively, then turned toward Elaine, who asked where she’d hiked. As Georgina explained where they’d gone and what they’d seen, Molly slipped over to help Mike with the steaks.

  “These are gorgeous,” she murmured.

  “From the Lightning Creek Ranch. Grass-fed.” He glanced her way. “It pays to marry into a ranching family.”

  “When do Dylan and Jolie get married?”

  “Next month. On the ranch.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  “I’m just glad to get Dylan married off to a decent woman. His first wife...” Mike’s mouth hardened as he poked at a steak.

  So Dylan had been married before to a woman Mike didn’t approve of. Or maybe it was her actions after they’d married he didn’t approve of. The important thing was that he seemed to approve of Jolie.

  “They’ll be back pretty soon, then.”

  “Two weeks.”

  “I bet you can’t wait.”

  Mike gave a satisfied nod. “It’s good having both of my boys back.”

  Dinner stretched on until the early hours of the evening. Molly hung back and watched as Georgina and Elaine entertained. Both were natural extroverts and she was always glad to hand the spotlight over to anyone who wanted it. After dinner, Elaine announced that she was doing the dishes and Molly volunteered to help, since she hadn’t brought anything. Georgina continued to share stories with Finn and Mike, and his two friends, Cal and Karl, who’d shown up around dessert af
ter a day of fishing. It was a full house, or rather yard, with a lot of positive, happy energy.

  Molly was more than glad to escape for fifteen minutes or so. It was hell being a natural introvert.

  “None of my business,” Elaine said after loading the dishwasher and filling a sink with soapy water to wash the excess dishes, “but I have to ask...are you and Finn...?”

  Molly gave her a startled look. “No.” The word came out automatically, adamantly.

  Dear heavens...had they come off as a couple? Molly quickly replayed the events of the afternoon and could come up with nothing, other than the vibe between her and Finn. The same vibe that had been growing since he first reported to her class.

  “Oh. My mistake.” Elaine smiled a little and reached for a serving plate, which she submerged in the soapy water. “I misread things.”

  “He’s a student in my English Basic Comp class at the community college,” Molly murmured, as if that explained the time she’d spent studying Finn from behind her sunglasses, feeling totally safe because, hey—dark glasses. “We know each other that way. Teacher. Student.”

  Elaine’s eyebrows lifted as she washed the plate, but she did not look at Molly. The shift in her expression was enough to tell Molly that the dark glasses hadn’t been enough.

  “Finn’s attractive,” she allowed in a carefully casual voice. “But I’m looking for more than a pretty face.”

  “And he is good-looking. Finn looks a lot like Mike did when he was young.”

  “You knew Mike when he was young?”

  “I knew who he was. He didn’t know me.” She handed Molly a dish to rinse. “Well, if you’re not just looking for a pretty face, then what are you looking for in a partner?”

  Molly frowned at her. “If someone had told me thirteen years ago that I’d be trading man-talk with my science teacher...”

  Elaine smiled back. “Life is funny.” Then she raised her eyebrows in a clear invitation to continue.

  “I’m looking for someone who probably doesn’t exist,” Molly said on a laugh. She’d made a list of qualities in her notebook and rattled off the top few. “He’ll be steady and predictable. Definitely professional—someone settled in their career. Maybe another college teacher.”

  “Kind of a male version of yourself?” Elaine asked shrewdly.

  “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing. Compatibility and all that.”

  “Not going for the excitement of opposites attract?”

  “Been there. Done that.” Molly let out a long breath. “I won’t do it again.” She shot her former teacher a look. “Give me boring and sedate any day.” She gave a soft snort. “Wild attraction is fun, but it can also—” she looked for the right words and finally settled on “—lack substance.” Molly placed a plate in the drain rack. “Guess that’s why I need more than a pretty face.”

  * * *

  WHAT WAS THAT thing his mother used to say about eavesdroppers never hearing anything good about themselves?

  Finn knew for a fact that wasn’t true, having secretly listened in on the occasional girl conversation back in the day, but it sure as hell was true in this case.

  He finished scraping the barbecue grill into the trashcan, which just happened to be next to the open kitchen window. Molly and Ms. Fitch were still discussing the best qualities in a man. Qualities he apparently didn’t have, according to Molly. He could deal with not being her dream guy, but lacking substance and being just a pretty face?

  That pissed him off.

  “Looks good,” Mike said.

  Finn glanced down at the grill that he’d been scrubbing with dry steel wool and saw that, yes, it was probably cleaner than it had been in years. Maybe since it was new.

  “Yeah. I like a shiny grill.”

  “Since when?” Mike asked.

  Finn hefted the grill without answering and carried it back to the barbecue, where he set it in place.

  Let it go.

  And he did...right up until Molly went into the house for bowls so that he could dish out the ice cream he’d brought. He followed her into the kitchen and she smiled at him from cupboard.

  “I got this. Seven of us, right?”

  “Yeah.” Molly stopped counting bowls and glanced back at him with a slight frown. Part of him said to walk away. Another part, one that he couldn’t quite rein in, refused to back away, as he well should, in the name of peace and harmony.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Not unless you count lack of substance and just being a pretty face.”

  Molly’s cheeks went bright red. She opened her mouth. Closed it again. Finally she managed to get out a single word. “How?”

  “I was cleaning the grill on the deck, next to the kitchen window. I hadn’t intended to listen, but when you hear your name...” He gave a shrug.

  Molly lifted her chin. “I didn’t say you lacked substance.”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure you did.”

  “What I meant was...” Her voice trailed as she gave him a look that bordered on pleading. Finn wasn’t going to give her any help. Or a break. But he didn’t mind turning up the heat.

  “What did you mean, Molly?”

  “That you aren’t right for me.”

  “Ah.” He briefly sucked his cheeks in and sauntered just a little closer, frowning as he asked, “Since when then was that an issue, me being right for you?”

  If her cheeks were red before, now they were on fire. “It’s not an issue. Elaine—” She stopped abruptly and shook her head. “Nothing I can say here will help.”

  “No. I don’t think it will.”

  “Maybe I’d better go.”

  Now he shook his head. “No. I think you should have ice cream so that Mike doesn’t get worried about you...then you should go.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE WEEK STARTED in a rush, with Molly meeting with her supervisor to discuss the first steps in the instructor evaluation process at the college, and then covering classes for a fellow English teacher, Luis Cortez, who had a family emergency. She’d had to cancel her office hours, leaving a note on her door explaining the circumstances, as well as sending a group email to her students. She didn’t go home for dinner as usual after her afternoon class, but instead ate a sandwich at her desk as she prepped for her evening class. The class where she’d see Finn for the first time since the barbecue. She couldn’t say she was looking forward to that. What really stung was that she was in the wrong. She’d said things she shouldn’t have instead of steering the conversation with Elaine Fitch to a safer place.

  None of her students had emailed questions or concerns, so Molly assumed all was well when she walked into the room—with the students who weren’t Finn, anyway.

  “Did any of you try to see me during office hours today?”

  She scanned the class, taking care to let her gaze pass over Finn as if he were any other student.

  Finn returned the favor, meeting her eyes in a detached way before opening the spiral notebook on his desk.

  “Great,” Molly said. “Glad no one needed assistance while I was away. Okay, tonight you’ll finish your project outlines, if you haven’t already done so, and then start hammering away on the rough draft. Questions?”

  “Is everything all right?”

  Molly turned her attention to Regina, a grandmotherly type who, like Mr. Reed, was finally reaching for a lifelong dream and attending college.

  “In what way?” Surely she hadn’t been able to read the dread Molly had felt walking into the room and facing Finn for the first time after insulting him.

  “I heard rumor of an emergency, and if you needed to end class early for any reason, I’m certain we, as a class, would be fine with that.”

  “Thank you,” Molly said
, “but that won’t be necessary. The emergency was that of another faculty member. I just had to cover classes.”

  Regina gave a silent “ah” then started to work. Denny opened his expensive leather briefcase and took out his laptop along with a sheath of papers. With a sigh, he put his laptop back. Molly had made it clear that she wanted the class to do the preliminary steps of the first project on paper, and Denny wasn’t happy about it. Tough. Molly continued to circulate through the room, passing by Finn’s desk as he pulled out the note cards he’d made as per her suggestion.

  “What are those?” Debra asked as Molly walked by toward a student with his hand in the air.

  “Note cards,” Finn said.

  “How clever.” The older woman cocked her head. “I wish some of these methods had been invented when I was in school. How does this one work?”

  “What you do is to write one thought on each one, then arrange them—”

  “Why don’t you just write your outline on paper? You know. Like a grown-up.”

  Denny’s loud voice brought Molly’s head around. The man belonged in a kindergarten class. She was about to intervene when Finn growled, “Because I’m special.”

  “How so?”

  “I have a learning disability.”

  The class went still. Molly went still. Denny went red.

  “Then you’re going to have a hell of a time in this class,” he finally said in an obvious effort to save face.

  “That’s so rude.” Everyone turned toward the quiet woman who’d just spoken. Since Martha Simmons never, ever said a word in class unless directly addressed, her statement was all the more powerful.

  “It’s also true,” Finn said quietly. “I am having a hell of a time. But I made a deal with myself to get through and I’m going to use whatever tools it takes...whether you approve or not.”

  Debra glared in Denny’s direction before Molly stepped in. “Learning is different for everyone. The important thing is that we all get tools we can use to help us tackle life.” She shifted her attention to Denny, gave him the teacher look, which felt odd with an adult, but seemed to work. “The note card method is tried and true. There are even computer programs for it. You might want to check those out.”