by Jeannie Watt
She gave him an unsmiling nod and then walked on, feeling a dozen sets of eyes on her back before she stopped to help Mr. Reed, who thankfully had a question about the opening of his essay and not about note cards. By the time she finished, the rest of the class was focused on their work—or at least pretending to focus—despite the aura of tension that still hung between the two men.
Finn continued to work on arranging cards on his too-small desk while Denny kept his head down. He was blessedly quiet for the remainder of the class and for the first time ever he left without sharing some bit of obscure knowledge meant to make him look smarter than everyone else in attendance.
After the chime ending the hour sounded, Finn quickly gathered his stuff. He was heading for the door when Martha caught up with him.
“Mr.... Finn... My son has a learning disability,” she said in a rush. “And...well, thank you for being so open about it. I wish my boy could have seen what you did today.” She patted Finn’s arm and then disappeared out the door and down the hall.
Finn glanced over at Molly, his expression cold, bordering on icy, as if he blamed her for the Denny attack. Not knowing what else to do, she turned to Mr. Reed, who had a question. When she glanced back, Finn was gone.
* * *
ASS. HOLE.
And what was wrong with him that he couldn’t just shrug off the petty attack of a bullying jerk? Easy answer there. Denny the Douche had hit a nerve—the same one Molly had hit a few days ago.
Mike had custody of Buddy for the night, so instead of heading home, Finn gave in to temptation for the first time in weeks and pulled into McElroy’s on his way by. Maybe Denny was there. Yeah. That would be fun. He didn’t know the guy, but he had seen him at the bar now and again. Unfortunately, Denny was not there, but the crowd was larger than it had been the last time he stopped on a weeknight, and wonder of wonders, Wyatt was not among the patrons.
“The usual,” he said to Jim, who frowned deeply.
“What would that be? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“I’m a student now.” Kind of. Jim cocked an eyebrow and turned around to pour a draft. “Takes a lot of time,” Finn continued. And when he wasn’t at the feed store or being a student, he was forging ahead on his ’72 Ford, hammering a little metal. He’d built a sweet gas tank for the big truck.
“That doesn’t help my bottom line,” Jim said, setting the beer in front of Finn.
“I’ll send a monthly check to make up for it.” Finn jerked his head toward the group of young guys gathered around the pool table. “How old are these guys?”
“They’re legal and they help the bottom line. Come here most nights. Unlike you old guys, who stop by every couple of weeks and have to be home by nine.” He smirked a little.
The door swung open and Finn heard his name. He turned to see a familiar group, led by Terry Tyrone. The door no sooner closed than it opened again and a group of college-age girls came in behind them. The place was going to be packed soon, and it was a little strange to feel like one of the older people there on a week night.
“Looks like some old guys,” he said to Jim.
Jim snorted and wiped the bar. “You’ll all be gone by nine.”
Finn hated to tell Jim that he was right, but the last time he’d been with his old wild friends, they honestly had gone home early. To wives. Kids. They’d probably do the same tonight and then they would get up in the morning and go to jobs they liked. Terry was a lineman for the local electrical utility. Lowell worked as an assessor for the county. The other guys they hung with led similar lives.
It seemed as if everyone had settled into regular adult existences while he was overseas, and now he was the only one who was still at loose ends. It made him feel oddly inadequate...like he lacked substance.
His mouth tightened and he picked up his beer.
“Finn!” Lowell raised a hand and motioned to the tables they’d pushed together in the back of the room.
“Guess I’d better get my partying in fast, before we all fall asleep.”
“Good one,” Jim muttered as Finn picked up his beer and went to join his old crew who were enthusiastically signaling the server.
Jim was exaggerating, but the fact of the matter was that they were all older now. More responsible—but he had to admit that the guys weren’t look all that responsibly minded tonight, even though it was Monday.
Maybe tonight was the night to let loose.
* * *
THERE WERE A lot of cars in McElroy’s parking lot for a Monday night. Molly gave a bemused snort as she stopped at the light next to the popular bar. How did people party on Monday night, then go about regular life on Tuesday?
Maybe they held their liquor better than she did.
Good possibility.
The light changed and she was about to pull forward when a truck caught her attention. Finn’s truck. The car behind her blasted its horn and Molly jumped before accelerating. So Finn was one of those Monday-night drinkers. He went to class and then hit the bars, just like a regular college kid. No reason that should bother her.
Nope. None.
She turned onto a side street and headed back to the bar. After parking a few spaces away from Finn’s truck she got out of her car, took a deep breath and headed for the door.
This is dumb. You know it is.
She told herself that she wanted to discuss the Denny matter, but what she really wanted to address was the situation between herself and Finn. Old Molly would have let sleeping dogs lie. New Molly was going to confront, apologize, make peace.
Old Molly wondered if this was really the time and place. New Molly conceded the point, but by that time the door was open and she’d stepped into the bar. All eyes did not swing toward her, but it felt as if they had. Pulling in a breath, Molly lifted her chin and started toward the table at the other side of the room where Finn sat with his back to her.
Someone at his table, a guy who looked vaguely familiar and whom she might have recognized if it hadn’t been for the thick black beard, zeroed in on her, and Finn turned in his chair before she followed her last-minute survival instinct and veered off for the ladies’ room.
A look crossed his face that could only be described as stunned. “I saw your truck,” she said before he could say anything. “I wondered if we could talk for a moment.”
That raised a few eyebrows. All eyes at the table may not have been on her when she walked into the bar, but they were on her now. Her and Finn.
“About class?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Everything’s fine.”
Was that it? Was she dismissed?
It appeared so. She’d known it was a dumb move before she made it. What had she expected? That he’d invite her to sit down with his friends? No. She’d kind of hoped he’d be alone. Probably a bit stupid.
“Glad to hear all is well.” Careless comment. Check. Forced smile. Check.
Molly headed for the bar, where she pulled up a stool as if she drank there regularly. The man next to her smiled and nodded. She smiled back and hung her purse from the hook below the counter. When the bartender approached, she ordered a beer, figuring she didn’t have to finish it, and then toyed with the napkin he placed in front of her before he turned toward the taps. A moment later she felt someone at her shoulder and knew without looking that it was Finn.
“Come here often?” he murmured.
“First time,” she replied. “I wasn’t of drinking age when I left the Eagle Valley.”
“Just thought you’d visit the bar for the first time tonight?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I stopped because I saw your truck and I was concerned about you,” she said, still not looking at him.
There was a person on either side of her, so Finn couldn’t
move in beside her, and she kept her gaze stubbornly focused straight ahead, on the bartender’s back. He turned and placed a mug of beer in front of her and Molly immediately lifted it to take a big drink. Foam tickled her top lip and she dabbed at it with the back of her hand.
“Why the concern? Because of that douche in class?”
Now swiveled on her stool toward Finn, meeting his unreadable hazel gaze dead-on. “That and what happened at Mike’s.” She thought she was going to apologize again, but she wasn’t. Once was enough.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “I thought we’d already dealt with that.”
“So did I.” Molly took another drink. The beer tasted good, and it gave her something to focus on, which made it taste even better. “But class was pretty damned awkward and I wanted to see if I could do something about that.”
“I was just putting our relationship back where it should be. Teacher-student.”
“Ah.” She turned back to the bar and held her beer between both hands. He waited behind her for her to say more, but she really didn’t have a lot to say. Maybe this was the way their relationship was supposed to be. It wasn’t as if she were losing anything...
He touched her, laid his hand lightly on her arm and made her nerves jump. She turned back, taking her beer with her this time to stop all the swiveling.
“You should get home,” he said softly. “School night.”
There was something in the quiet words that made her heart rate speed up even more than it had when he touched her, but she’d rather chug her beer than let him know that. “I’ll be fine. Go back to your friends.”
“As you wish.” He took a step, then stopped and looked back at her. “Are we good now?”
Molly frowned at his coolly asked question.
Good now? What the hell did that mean? When had things ever been good between them? Maybe for a few moments while they’d bantered in the parking lot or when he’d brought the kitten to her office. Other than that...not good.
“I...don’t know what you’re asking,” she muttered.
Finn have her a long, silent look. “Neither do I.” He reached past her to set his empty mug on the bar beside her almost-full one. “But I am going home. If you want, I’ll walk you to your car.”
Molly realized that she wanted. She wasn’t comfortable here, knowing that Finn’s friends—people she probably knew if he mentioned names—were looking at her. Knowing she shouldn’t have stopped here in the first place. She could be home right now. Safe and comfortable, except for the nagging thoughts about Finn. But no. She was in a bar, with Finn at her elbow, offering to walk her out.
An odd situation for someone who wasn’t all that impulsive.
Molly reached down for her purse, opened it and pulled out a ten and laid it on the bar before sliding off the stool.
“Generous tip,” Finn said as she started for the door.
“That’s me. Generous.” The truth was she wanted to get out of there rather than wait for change. Once she stepped out into the chilly night air she headed straight for her car.
“We seem to talk a lot at your car,” Finn said as she beeped the lock while still several yards away. She wanted that door unlocked and ready to go when she got there.
“We’ll break tradition tonight.” Molly could only think of one other time they’d spoken at her car, and she recalled it being unsettling because she’d enjoyed it so much. And she’d talked of getting laid.
Dear heavens. Sometimes she was her own worst enemy.
Finn waited until they’d reached her parking spot before saying, “So you came here tonight because of me.”
Molly gave him a tight-lipped look. “I think we both know that it wasn’t because I’m a regular.”
“And you came because you were concerned about me.” He was frowning now, as if he didn’t quite buy her story. Fine. He could think what he liked.
“I wanted to apologize one more time, and I felt guilty, okay? But I’ve since changed my mind about the guilt. Now we can segue into that strict teacher-student thing you were speaking of—and Denny the Douche can give you all the crap he wants.”
He smiled a little. Like he knew something that she didn’t.
Before she could ask what was so funny, he moved another step closer even though her brain whispered something about danger, but she didn’t move. Didn’t try to head him off when he slid a hand around the back of her neck, even though a jolt went through her as his calloused fingers brushed over her sensitive skin. His palm was warm against her neck as he held her and his lips came down to touch hers. And even though pulling back was the right thing to do, Molly didn’t. She wanted to see how this played out, because she’d probably never be in this position again.
She sucked a breath in over her teeth as his mouth moved away, then she leaned toward him, pulled his head back down, made contact again. His fingers tightened on the back of her neck and Molly opened to him, answered his kiss, allowed herself the freedom to seize the moment. Revel in it.
His free hand came up to the side of her face as the kiss deepened, his tongue introducing all kinds of knee-weakening responses as it stroked and teased.
He backed her up a step or two, but when her back came up against her car door, he pulled back, leaving her blinking as his hand dropped away.
It took him a few seconds to say, “Let’s not do anything you’ll regret in the morning.”
Molly drew in a breath as she held his gaze, not really caring that it shook a little. His breathing wasn’t exactly even. “You make it very easy not to.” With a poor attempt at a smirk, she jerked open the car door and got inside. Finn stood where he was until the lock went down on her door, then raised his hand in the barest of salutes and walked away toward his truck.
She’d expected him to go back into the bar, had assumed that “going home” was a ruse to get the better of her, but his door opened and closed as she backed out of the parking spot and the headlights came on. He followed her out of the lot, but whereas she turned right at the stop sign, he turned left.
She hit the heel of her hand on the steering wheel as she stopped at the light. A quick glance at the clock told her that less than thirty minutes had passed, but a whole lot had changed in that time.
She knew that Finn could kiss like no one’s business. She knew that she reacted to him in a crazy way.
She knew that she was never kissing him again.
And since Georgina was home, she knew she’d better act normal when she got there.
* * *
AFTER THE KISS in McElroy’s parking lot, Finn decided to give both himself and Molly a break and keep his distance. Maybe it was because kissing Molly had been nothing like he’d thought it would be. He’d acted on impulse, expecting something pleasant, but not the instant heat that had flared between them. It was all he could do not to back her up against her car, fist his hands into her hair and find out what else the two of them could do together. In the parking lot.
Bad idea. Not only for the sake of decorum, but because he wasn’t messing with a woman who’d made it so clear that, while she found him attractive, she also found him lacking. She’d come after him in the bar out of guilt, but he’d be a fool to twist that into caring for him more than she did. When people did things out of guilt, they did them for themselves. He knew. He’d done things out of guilt a time or two.
For the next three weeks, he went to class, arriving just before the bell rang, so that he didn’t risk being alone with Molly before the rest of the students—some of whom were chronically late—arrived. He did his best to be pleasant, yet distant. A student to Molly’s teacher. He didn’t ask for help, didn’t go to her office with questions. He haunted the internet and also started doing something he should have done from the beginning—he started FaceTiming with Dylan. And the fact that it’d taken hi
m so long to think of that showed that he might be a little slower on the uptake than he’d first thought.
Dylan was busy with his own studies, so it was often Jolie—who’d sucked at chemistry, but excelled in English—who helped him. When he didn’t ask for help, he faltered, which made him wonder if it was actually possible for him to get an honest degree and, more than that, to use it. Even teaching a hands-on course, there was a lot of paperwork and grading.
He hadn’t been aware of that until he’d spent time in the college automotives lab, saw what the classes looked like today. They were different from the classes he’d taken in high school, both in form and content. More computer usage. More writing, because apparently literacy was the new buzzword in education.
Was he wasting his time trying to get an education degree? Setting himself up for failure?
A bigger question was did he want to sell feed and Western-themed doodads for the rest of his working days?
Meanwhile, as Finn questioned his life, Mike seemed to be taking great satisfaction with his since taking up with Ms. Fitch. No matter how many times she asked him to call her Elaine, it just seemed strange, so she remained Ms. Fitch in his head.
She and Mike ate dinner out several nights a week, cooked together on the weekends, went for long walks and drives. When Finn mentioned that they seemed to be moving mighty fast—not that he was getting parental or anything—Mike had laughed and said at his age, he couldn’t afford to waste time.
The best part was that Cal and Karl were both now trolling dating sites for real, trying to find their own Elaines. Wise man that he was, Cal had changed his profile photo to one where his eyes weren’t rolled back in his head, and Karl had taken about fifty headshots before he found one that he could live with.
“What do you think of her?” they’d ask Finn at least once a day, and he would give his honest opinion of a woman’s profile, pointing out any red flags he might see. The boys were getting as addicted to their online dating sites as Chase was to social media—most of which Finn was totally unfamiliar with.
