The family market was sold, then their family home, and parcels of land, one at a time. When all that was left was a single wide trailer on the last few acres of land, Molly dropped out of school, finishing online at night and started working to support her and her mother. Not the life she dreamed of but the life she was handed. The dream changed from college, career, and a love like her parents, to fake it until you make it, and find your way to St. Helena where she could feel close to the love she missed so much.
Her mother died when Molly was 20 years of age. The doctors said it was her liver, followed by kidneys mixed with alcohol that claimed her, but Molly knew it was of a broken heart. It didn’t hurt to lose her mother like it had her father. It was freeing. Her mother could finally be at peace as could Molly. She spent the next decade working several jobs, living in her little trailer, saving every last penny she could.
St. Helena was the goal, and it was realized on her 30th birthday when a trust from her father’s family, a trust she didn’t know existed, matured and allowed her to quit all of her jobs, sell the last of her family property, and start her life in St. Helena. Reading Grounds was born, and Molly was finally where she knew she needed to be. In St. Helena, with her books, dreaming of her own love story.
It was nearing the days end and time to start closing shop for the day. Her final customer had just left, and she’d locked the door behind her when a buzz and ping from her cellphone caught her attention. Molly adored the friends she had made here. They felt more and more like family as time went on, and she was always happy to hear from them…until now. A text from Lexi that she wished hadn’t landed in her inbox.
‘Check Facebook. Call me if you need me. I am so sorry.’
Molly’s heart sank and filled with dread as she knew that a Facebook post followed by an ‘I’m sorry’ could only mean one thing. Nora Kinkaid.
Before Molly could get to a laptop or tablet, there was a knock at the glass door that she had just locked. It was Seth. If his expression said anything it was that he already knew what was waiting for her on Facebook, and he wasn’t happy about it either. She opened the door to let him in, but he quickly grabbed her elbow and gently pulled her to the back of the shop and out of sight.
“I just saw it. I’m sorry.” he said, wrapping his arms around her.
Shit. If he’s apologizing with a hug, it must be bad. She was torn between not wanting to know and staying in his arms until it all went away, and actually looking and finding out why he would be sorry for anything that fell out of that cow’s mouth. Besides, they were friends. Staying in his embrace wasn’t an option and not even what he was offering. This was some sort of guilt hugging her.
“Sorry? Was it Nora again?” she asked, hoping he could just tell her, and she wouldn’t have to see anything.
“You haven’t seen it? Oh wow…uh…” Seth was at a loss for words, which wasn’t uncommon but the irritation and angst rolling off of him was. He grabbed her tablet from the nearby counter and pulled up his Facebook account revealing just what had him so ticked.
“How on earth…” Molly was surprised by the desperation in Nora’s attempts since what she caught was anything but scandalous. It was a picture of Seth and Molly hugging, inside her store, surrounded by customers, a few days prior…just before she found him that romance novel. The innocence of that hug, being made out to be something other than just that was maddening, especially since it was sparked from Nora and her antics to begin with.
“I’m sorry Molly. I was on my way to see her, to ask her stop this, but wanted to see you…first.” He finished.
She found his desire to protect her endearing, and although she appreciated his chivalrous plan, she knew better. “Seth, I appreciate that, but talking to Nora is like poking an angry bear. She’ll just swipe back. She’s merciless, especially when challenged.”
“I just…I wanted…ugh…” Seth ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He understood her concern and knew she was probably right, but hated being somewhat of a source of her stress or disappointment, and certainly didn’t want this to get in the way of their friendship. He was already kicking himself for not asking her out before. Now he felt the opportunity was missed all together. With Nora’s eye on them, the chances of her going anywhere with him were slim to none. About the only thing he found comfort in was knowing that it likely hindered the chance any guy had with her out of fear of Nora. At least there was that.
“Well, since you’re here, would you like some coffee?” She asked, pulling him back to present.
“Uh, sure!” He would gladly have a cup of coffee with her. He would gladly walk across a bed of coals barefoot for her too he suspected. Coffee was a good start.
Molly grabbed a tray and added a couple coffee mugs and a carafe full of coffee. Before she made her way to the table they favored, she grabbed what was left of the day’s pastries. This was a good excuse to binge on sweets rather than let them go to waste. As she rounded the corner from behind the counter, she grabbed one last thing…the one thing that would make this all go away for a short spell…her favorite bottles of booze.
Raised eyebrows and a smirk met her with question, “We’re drinking tonight, huh?”
“Yep! Coffee…and a little something to numb the sting!” She chided.
“Well, okay then…” he picked up the bottle to see what they were indulging in and seemed surprised by the selection. “Butterscotch Schnapps and Bailey’s, huh?”
“You bet’cha!” She said with fervor. “This is my guilty pleasure…every once in a while!”
She poured them each a cup of coffee, stalling the bottle of alcohol above his glass, waiting for the go ahead to pour, then plated the pastries, insisting he try the strawberry cream cheese Danish whether it went well with their drinks or not. He watched her go through the motions knowing it was all just a distraction from the day’s ugliness, aka Nora. After a quick stir she slowly sipped her altered coffee, eye’s closed, a deep breathy moan escaping as the warm beverage coated her throat. The sound of that moan had him twitching in places he was happy to have hidden under the table…what he wouldn’t give to hear that sound, over and over again.
“Drink up!” she said with a nudge, pulling him from his not so pure thoughts.
“Oh, ya, thanks! So…” he understood the moan. This stuff was like a mug full of desert. He had learned the hard way that those are the drinks you stop consuming after the first or second. They go down way too easy.
“Sooo….” She retorted.
“So what if there was a way to…make this stop, make Nora go away?” he questioned.
“Can’t kill her; already checked into it.” Molly deadpanned, not intending to make him choke on her words.
“Oh, I wasn’t… I mean… Wait, you looked into it?” his initial surprise quickly shifted to intrigue.
“No, not really. The ladies talked about it the other day. Shay said she’d asked Jonah, but it was all a joke! That old bird would probably Facebook it from the grave, sending us all to prison anyway…not worth it!” she joked.
“I have a plan, a little less…sinister, but it could work. The whole join’em if you can’t beat’em. You trust me?” he raised an eyebrow in question, and didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she answered.
She raised an eyebrow and gave a crooked grin while looking at Seth trying to decide how much worse this really could get should his plan fail, general consensus was…not much worse. “Sure, Spangler, I trust you. What’ve you got?”
“Facebook.”
They spent the next few hours searching Facebook and the St. Helena Chamber of Commerce site in search of all things Nora Kinkaid. Pictures, articles, you name it…they found it. Seth’s plan was clever really; fight fire with fire or in this case, post for post. They would fire back at every direct hit with Facebook posts of their own, only…not as themselves.
They set up a fake Facebook account, like any good asshole would, and called it ‘Watching
St. Helena II’. Not the cleverest of names, only a slight play on words and the situation, but alcohol added to the mix made things a little fuzzy, and the name was less important than the content. The key was to making the account public, for all to see, and invite everyone they could think of. It would spread like wild fire on its own…it was a small town after all and small towns spread gossip like sugar to ants.
Seth had switched to straight coffee at his second cup. Molly switched to straight liquor by her third, and its effects were becoming painfully obvious. In between her bad jokes, giggles, and exaggerated gestures, she was pouring her heart out to Seth. She shared her past in all of its darkened glory, leaving him even more enamored by her.
“Do you think she’ll know it’s us?” she whispered.
“I don’t think so,” he whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”
She let out a deep bellowing laugh, the kind that made your belly shake, your sides hurt, and your eyes water. He wasn’t sure it was quite as funny as she did. They were just whispering in an empty store, her store no less. But he found her humor contagious and laughed along with her.
She seemed disappointed when she lifted her mug for another sip and found it empty. She set it on the table and looked around before her eyes widened and sparkled with enthusiasm as if the light bulb above her head lit up, and an idea was born, a good one if her expression was a decent gauge.
“Do you want a blow job?!” She asked, with a hint of enthusiasm, serious as could be.
“A..a..a…a what?!” Seth choked on her words, not what he was drinking since he was sitting on an empty mug as well.
“A blow job! Ya want one? I love blow jobs!” She stood, hands on her hips, and hell if she didn’t bite her full bottom lip waiting for an answer. “You’ve had a blow job before haven’t you?”
“Uh, ya, ya…I uh…ya…” Lost for words, pretty common for Seth, but he was kicking himself in this moment. Why couldn’t he just say ‘sure’? “I’ve uh…yep…done that, yep.”
“Yes! This is my favorite! Hang on; let me grab the whip cream! If we are going to do this, let’s do it right!” She got up from the table and rushed behind the counter, stumbling and giggling as she went. In that moment, Seth’s conscience decided to emerge waving the white flag that roused his moral compass…she was drunk.
“I used to do these allllll the time, I’m really good at them. These brought in the biggest tips!” she slurred.
“Wait..what? So, like how many…how many are we talkin’? You were paid for…for…doing this?” that last word ended on a nervous high note.
“Oh hundreds, maybe thousands! You’re going to love this!” she returned to the table shaking the can of whipped cream, snapping off the lid.
“Look, Molly…as tempting as this is, I think…I think we should maybe just, you know. Not tonight. You’ve had a lot to drink; I have had some too…”
“Oh come on, don’t you trust me Spangler? Just one, do it for me…promise you won’t regret it! It’ll be your new guilty pleasure.” She finished in a sultry breathy tone.
“Well…” was he really thinking about this? Of course he was, and the part about guilty pleasure had his jeans just a little too tight. Just as he was ready to reply, she grabbed both bottles of alcohol, turned them upside down over each mug for a quick pour followed by a nice dollop of whip on each.
“A true blow job is in a shot glass and you have to drink it with no hands! It’s the most ridiculous thing ever. If you do it right, you have white stuff all over your face…it’s supposed to be…”
Realizing where she was going with this conversation and that a ‘blow job’ was just a drink, he cut her off before she could finish and make an awkward situation just that much more awkward. “Ya, ya! I get what it’s…supposed to be.”
“Whoa, I think I might be getting a little buzzed here. Everything is warm and I can’t even remember Nora Kinkaid’s name! Mission accomplisshhhed.” Her fist went to the air in victory just as her head went down to the table. “Geezzzz, this room is soooo, spinney, I think we need a new table.”
That was his queue, their time was up. He needed to get her upstairs to her apartment before ‘spinning’ turned into something worse. They accomplished what they set out to do, and by morning, should see results worth reveling in.
Seth moved to check the lock on the entry door to Reading Grounds and shut off all the lights but those above the coffee and check-out counter. His hand gently rubbing her back, she lifted her head and smiled sweetly while he held her elbow, helping her to her feet. Her world must’ve been spinning because her feet couldn’t seem to find the ground. He swooped her up, cradling her head against his chest while her arms found their way around his neck.
He carried her up the winding stairs that lead to her apartment above the shop, quickly finding the only bedroom in the large open space. He rested her on the edge of her large bed and began to remove her shoes. The boundaries were clear in most cases, but in this one, they were blurred. Was he to leave her jeans on? Her shirt? How would she be most comfortable?
As a firefighter he was a caretaker and saw plenty of dressed and undressed victims requiring his help. He could separate his attraction to Molly from the situation at hand, and follow his instincts that let him take care of her, but would she be able to when she was sober? That is where the lines began to blur.
She stood on unbalanced legs and started taking off her clothes as if he wasn’t even in the room. He started to turn and grant her privacy, but her balance, or lack thereof, got the better of her and his arms were quickly around her steadying her. She paused as he held her gaze as he pondered whether to help, look away, or call someone. He could get lost in those rich brown eyes forever, he thought, before looking down so that gaze didn’t drag him in any further, leaving him less than an honorable gentleman.
She fumbled under her shirt with twisted arms that seemed to work better if she made a few matching faces, a few grunts later she had a proud smile as she unhooked her bra and pulled it off through the sleeves of her Reading Grounds t-shirt like a skilled magician and dropped it. Her pants were next and proved to be the ultimate drunken obstacle since her hands became a ten pack of butterscotch and Bailey’s thumbs. He finally helped her with the button, but drew the line there because it was already getting entirely too hot in there, and his chivalry had hard limits.
Molly slid her jeans down her legs slowly. A move so provocative and natural to her that he broke a sweat as he shifted his stance trying to relieve the tight pull of his own jeans. She didn’t even have to try to be seductive, it was just who she was, beautiful sensual Molly.
She began to sway when her jeans hit her ankles and she was struggling to get out of them causing her to sit at the edge of her bed.
“Are you okay?” Seth asked, hands cradling her face.
“I…I don’t feel so well. I think I did too many blow jobs.” She replied in a small voice.
He chuckled at her casual reference but felt bad for how she was about to feel. He could see it in her pale rosy cheeked face. He kissed the top of her head and knelt down to untangle her feet from the crumpled pool of jeans at her ankles. He had a good view of her pink lacey boy short panties that were clearly a set mate to the bra that was piled at his feet. If only this were another night, he would take his time enjoying the view, but tonight he was a gentleman.
He began to walk away, leaving for the night, once he had her tucked into bed. But his plan changed when she shot up in bed with a whimper. He turned to watch her stumble her way to the bathroom. Seth quickly moved behind her, so she made it safely to her destination and held her hair when she finally got sick. He couldn’t leave her, not tonight. She would need him.
Once she was back in bed with a cool rag resting on her head, Seth kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable in the corner chair and ottoman; he assumed it to be her reading spot given the books and small light on the shelf next to it. This would be his bed for the nig
ht. He would be here if she needed him.He would take care of her.
CHAPTER 3
Bright glaring light accompanied by a drilling sensation in her head woke Molly the next morning while her stomach managed a flip flopping gymnastics routine worthy of gold. She held her head as she sat up, vaguely remembering the truck that hit her last night in the form of booze and an old cranky woman. Running her fingers through her mangy hair, she fought through the tangled warzone, trying to tame it into submission when she noticed Seth sound asleep in the corner. Shirtless.
She looked down, taking in what she was wearing, or what she wasn’t wearing rather, and firmly planted her face in her hands as humiliation washed over her. She recalled the previous evening around their Facebook shenanigans, losing track somewhere around blow job, not picking up again until just a few moments ago when she was silently cursing the sunny fall morning. She vaguely remembered getting ill, or at least the sensation of such, but everything else was a blur.
Blow job, she thought. She wasn’t the kind of girl to mess around for the sake of messing around, but she also wasn’t the kind of girl to get drunk alone with a male friend. Seth was a good guy; she didn’t worry about him taking advantage of the situation or her. He was still here after all, and a guy up to no good would have high tailed it out of there after the finale.
Why was blow job at the forefront of her mind. He may not have taken advantage of her, but what if he didn’t have to? Awareness settled in, and she buried her face once again, hoping and praying that she hadn’t acted like a cheap drunken floozy, offering up the goods in something she could never undo. Her quiet moan was met with that knowing sensation of being watched.
Her suspicion was confirmed by the deep raspy voice from the corner, “Good morning. How do you feel?”
“Like I’m trying to die and can’t!” she fitted, pulling the blankets up a little higher.
St. Helena Vineyard Series_Sneaking Up on Love Page 2
