Shoving a throw pillow to her side, Molly got up to grab the rental she’d picked up on her way over. “Gosh, I can’t remember.” She felt a little wobbly as she fetched her purse and pulled out the clear plastic case. “Oh, it’s that new one, with what’s-his-face…”
“Um, can’t think of his name, but I know which one you are talking about.” Mackenzie looked up toward the ceiling as if the answer were written there.
“You know, that one guy… He was in the last thing we saw,” Molly explained as she tossed the DVD case onto Mackenzie’s flat tummy. The alcohol was not helping her memory at all.
Tiffany smiled. “No, it’s not that guy. It’s that other one. We watched his movie like two weeks ago, remember? I suggested this one because I knew it was coming out soon.”
“Well, if you can remember all that, then how come you don’t know his name?”
Tiffany lifted her drink. The red liquid sloshed inside the half-filled glass. “Because I have had too many of these.”
“Point taken.” Molly plopped back down next to Tiffany.
“God, what a week it has been.” Molly groaned.
“How can you even complain?” Tiffany quickly replied.
“Working with all those gorgeous men just has to be so difficult and wearing,” Mackenzie teased and eyed Molly over the rim of her wine glass.
“It is. Trust me.”
“Oh please. I’d kill to do what you do.” Tiffany patted Molly’s leg. “That model you shot yesterday was so hot. When you sent me a picture of him, I almost died.”
“He was okay.” Molly felt the lie slip off her tongue.
Tiffany’s mouth gaped open. “Um, just okay? Did you not see those abs? Oh God…and those arms.”
“Tiff is right. He was fine, Moll. I pretty much drooled all day over those pictures. You’re mean, by the way, teasing your poor friends like that. You should have invited us to help with the shoot.” Mackenzie giggled.
“Also, didn’t you say something about wanting to do laundry on his washboard abs?” Tiffany added, smirking behind her wine glass.
“I said you could do laundry on them. Besides…been there, done that,” Molly replied with a shrug.
“Well, damn, I hate you even more now. I want to be able to say that.” Tiffany rolled her eyes.
“You know, Molly is right, too. Being with guys like that has to be difficult. They are constantly trying to maintain that level of perfection. I don’t think I could ever feel comfortable being their girlfriend. Like, what if they were always comparing me to other better-looking or fitter women? I’d hate that.” Mackenzie paused, looked at them thoughtfully. “I just want a guy that looks good and thinks I look just as good.”
Mackenzie, Tiffany and Molly all raised their glasses. Cheers to that.
* * * *
“Okay, let me have you move to the left just a little.” Molly was bent at an awkward angle, trying to capture the shot of the model in front of her. “No, too much. Right there. Hold it.” Snap. Snap. Molly released the breath she had been holding in and so did the model.
“Thank God. I was worried I was going to pass out,” the model said.
“Well, put in some more hours at the gym and you won’t have to suck it in,” Molly teased. She watched as he rubbed his very well-defined abs and saw the concern grow in his chocolate-colored eyes. Oh dear. This was a model she had worked with a number of times, and they were doing a brand new shoot for an up-and-coming author. She adored him and actually considered him a friend. “I’m just kidding, Peter. You’re all sorts of delicious, babe.”
She saw the relief flood him. The tension that had been in his face and eyes vanished.
“Seriously?” he asked.
These guys—most of them, anyway—were so worried that they weren’t hot enough, and Molly couldn’t help but wonder why they had even gone into modeling in the first place. They had to have realized at some point how incredibly gorgeous they were. But she supposed that everyone was insecure about something. If she even looked half as good as some of these models, she knew she wouldn’t be insecure about that.
“Yes, these shots are fab.” Molly examined the images on the small screen of her camera. They were good shots. He’d posed well and the lighting couldn’t have been better. “You want to see?” Molly held up her camera for proof, daring him to peek at the remarkable images she had just viewed.
The model pulled a plain, white cotton T-shirt over his head, covering his tan and perfect torso. “Awesome.” He looked at the small screen and sighed. “Hey, you wanna grab something to eat?”
Molly laughed, which wasn’t her intention, but she just couldn’t help it. “Weren’t you just complaining about your body…like a minute ago?”
“Yeah, but you reassured me that I’m all kinds of delicious. I’ll just hit the gym twice tomorrow.”
“True.” Molly’s stomach growled at the mention of food. “Sure. You got anything special in mind?”
“Yeah, I was thinking we could head on down to Pike Place. I’m kind of in the mood for some chowder.”
“That sounds really good, actually.” Even though the noon-day sun was burning brightly outside, the temperature had been chilly since the start of the day. It was spring, after all. The sun would often give a false sense of warmth, but she was thankful it had even made an appearance. Most of the week had delivered a torrent of rain to the city, flooding streets and making just getting around miserable. The leftover dampness had caused the air to feel downright cold when she’d woken up that morning.
Molly grabbed her coat and they left her studio in search of some food. The unexpected warmth was welcomed as they ventured out into the crowded streets. Chatting about nothing in particular, they edged toward their destination, the legendary sign clearly visible a few blocks away. The salty ocean breeze floated delicately around them. The pungent scent of raw fish tickled her nose as they approached the world-famous Pike Place Fish Market. Spectators were gathered as the afternoon’s catch was thrown into the open area. Molly and Peter paused to watch as the men with their galoshes and rubber aprons flung the enormous fish through the air, catching every single one. Smiles and gaped-open mouths were plastered on the people, who were mesmerized by this act that had been a long-standing tradition, ever since Molly could remember. When she had been a little girl, her parents had taken her down to Pike Place. While her mother bought flowers and browsed the produce, her father would stand with her and watch in awe as the men brought in the day’s catch in the most fun and exciting way.
“Look out!”
She heard the words, felt something hard hit her, then ringing echoed in her ears. Everything went black momentarily.
“Are you okay?”
Molly looked up to see stormy-gray eyes looking at her with concern.
Her hand was wet and her butt hurt. What the hell happened? She looked around and saw all the people staring at her, hands covering their mouths in shock. Peter, her model buddy, had grown pale and worry was etched on his perfect face. Molly tried to remove herself from the cold puddle she found herself in, thanks to the leftover rain.
“Oh, no. You just sit for a minute,” Gray Eyes ordered.
Molly admitted defeat and remained seated. She tried wiping her hands on her jeans. Her butt was still cold, and now the embarrassment was settling in. “What happened?”
Peter crouched down next to her, smoothing her dark tresses that she had worn loose. As he gently moved the hair, she felt a soreness near the side of her head. She was confused and not quite certain of anything. She looked around, trying to make sense of everything. Then she realized where she was and what must have happened as she tried to rub the dull ache that was growing more uncomfortable. She wanted to die, to crawl under a rock or hide somehow. God, she’d gotten hit with a fish.
Kill me now.
As panic hit her, Molly tried to scurry away, but large, firm hands gripped her tightly.
“Ma’am, let’s give it a f
ew minutes, okay?”
Ma’am? Despite being utterly embarrassed and all out of sorts, being called ‘ma’am’ made her cringe. She could only nod. There was no point in resisting, plus those eyes and that sexy voice had a soothing effect on her. Since she wasn’t getting up any time soon, she might as well take in the scenery. The man in front of her was gorgeous, in a completely different way from her model buddy, who was still in a state of shock.
“Molly, you went down like a ton of bricks. It all happened so fast.” Peter sounded like he was about to cry. She couldn’t help but think he was overreacting a tad. But she could admit that her ego and dignity were just as bruised as the side of her head. Heck, maybe even more so.
“Molly…so that’s your name.” Those gray eyes twinkled and a half-smile appeared.
Was it terrible that she was memorizing every fine line and wrinkle? The dark shadow of stubble covered his strong jaw line and the faint crow’s feet gathered into feathery creases by his incredible eyes. She had decided they were her favorite feature of his. They reminded her of clouds when a storm was rolling in, varied shades of light and dark, mixed in a brilliant way that she couldn’t stop staring at. If only she had brought her camera. She’d love a shot of him. She could picture it now—a black and white. His nose was slightly large but added character. His lips were full, and Molly absentmindedly licked hers. His wavy black hair had sneaky gray hairs by his temple. Damn. He was sexy all the way around.
“Well, Molly, you got in the way of one of my fish.” When he spoke again, that pretty much sealed the deal for her.
Got in the way of his fish? She crinkled her brow and scowled at him. “Um, excuse me?”
The gray eyes laughed, right along with his sensual mouth—a full deep laugh. He was laughing at her and she didn’t like it one bit. In fact, she found herself growing angry and annoyed. It was his stupid fault that she’d gotten hit. Now she was upset that she felt attracted to him. It was probably from being assaulted by his dumb fish. Molly rose a little too quickly from the damp cement floor. Her head throbbed and she was instantly caught by surprise with a wave of dizziness that washed over her. Molly’s balance was off kilter, but somehow she managed to not hit the ground.
“Whoa. I told you not to get up yet, babe,” he said, as he cradled Molly securely in his arms.
“I’m fine, really,” Molly argued, but she couldn’t help but enjoy being held.
“Yeah, I can see that,” he fired back, amusement dancing in his sea of gray.
Peter moved to her side. “Molly, maybe we should go to a hospital or something?”
“I’ll be okay,” she promised. Anything to prolong being held, because it felt absolutely wonderful, despite the growing number of people that were watching.
“She’ll be okay. It would’ve helped if she’d just listened to me, but somehow I don’t think she’s the listening type.” He looked down at her longer than necessary, as if trying to solve a puzzle. “I have a feeling this was fate.”
Chapter Three
Molly had been doing her own thing, happily minding her own business, until life had intervened. It had delivered an awful headache, and the butt of her jeans was still damp, not to mention her bottom still hurt a little. Molly still couldn’t quite conceive how in the heck she’d managed to get knocked out by a fish, but, then again, that was sort of her luck. Her friends were kind enough to point out that she should avoid black cats crossing her path, walking under ladders and should lock herself up when Friday the thirteenth rolled around every so often. Bad luck or simply clumsiness was just naturally Molly. It was who she was. It was surprising that she wasn’t superstitious—maybe she should be.
“Oh my God, are you serious, Molly?” Tiffany asked, her entire body vibrating with hysterical laughter. “This has to be the strangest thing I have ever heard.”
Molly nodded. “It was so mortifying.” It killed her having to relive the tale.
“I bet. Did they at least offer you a free fish? You know, for your trouble?” Mackenzie looked upset. Her scowl told Molly she was not pleased in the least.
“Yeah, maybe even the fish that clobbered you?” Tiffany suggested. She continued to amuse herself at Molly’s expense.
Molly huffed. “No, I was not given anything.” She rubbed her head. It was still sore from the very humiliating experience.
“You want more ice, babe?” Mackenzie, always the mother hen, was already getting up to grab ice and probably some aspirin or something. If anything, Molly knew she was having the best care if Mackenzie was around.
They were huddled around in the living room of her apartment in the Belltown district, a very upscale and gorgeous area of Seattle. Her place was small and cramped, and she hardly spent any time there. She preferred the light and vastness of her studio. It was her true haven.
“I’m okay, really. I promise, guys.” Molly felt a little dizzy as she tried to get up from her couch. It was an odd eggplant hue and far too large for the tiny space, but she had been drawn to the color and couldn’t resist it. It was also the most comfortable couch she’d ever lounged on. It was great for naps, and that was how she determined if a couch was awesome or not. She could use a short one right now and she wished her friends would leave. She appreciated their concern, but Molly was exhausted and sleep sounded divine.
“I want to know more about Mr. Gray Eyes.” Tiffany lit up with curiosity as she inched closer to Molly on the shared couch. “Peter said he was fine as hell. We want details, Moll.”
What was there really to say? Molly had only been home for a few hours. The girls had raced over the second Peter had gotten her home and semi-settled. She felt like everyone was making a far bigger deal about this ridiculous incident than necessary. Granted, if it had been either Tiffany or Mackenzie, she’d be there in a heartbeat, too. That was how it was—one for all and all that jazz.
“You need to just stay put and let us take care of you,” Mackenzie ordered as she brought a dish-towel-covered plastic bag, filled with ice. “Here. Put this on it.”
The ice stung against the swollen knot that had formed since the incident. Ouch. She dabbed the ice again, wincing each time it made contact.
“So, tell us about your hero? Peter said he was annoyingly good-looking,” Mackenzie commented.
Oh, Peter. She’d be scolding him the next time she saw the model. Nothing like being tossed to the wolves. Molly sighed and admitted, “Well, he does have quite lovely eyes.” She didn’t feel the need to elaborate on how they’d transported her into a raging sea of emotions. That could be the slight brain injury talking, so best to wait before announcing it.
“Just lovely, huh?” Tiffany pressed further, patting Molly’s leg. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s all they were.”
“Shouldn’t you guys leave so I can rest?”
Mackenzie shook her head and made her case. “Nope. In fact, we aren’t going anywhere at all. You can’t be left alone.”
“What? Why?”
“Concussion,” Mackenzie stated clearly, as she sat back down in the wingback chair that was diagonal to the couch. “So, no, you will not be left. Sorry, dear.”
Molly looked to Tiffany for a little back-up. Tiffany gave her a frown and shrugged her shoulders. “You know how Mac is. She’s bossy, and I’m scared of her.” Tiffany pretended to cower, causing Mackenzie to laugh and throw a decorative pillow at her.
“As you should be,” Mackenzie said, shaking her finger at them. “You both should be.”
“Oh, please. You might be bossy, but you couldn’t hurt a fly,” Molly argued. Her sore spot was growing numb with the ice.
“You wanna find out?” Mackenzie teased as she balled up her fists. “I’ll have you know I’m pretty tough.”
Tiffany and Molly burst into laughter, causing Molly’s head to zing with pain, but it was worth it.
* * * *
Several days later, Molly found herself no longer hurt or bruised from her incident with the flying fish. She was
kicking back in a chair in her studio, her feet elevated on her table, perusing several edits in front of her. But her focus just wasn’t there today. Distracted and craving something to eat, Molly decided to head down to Pike. She knew why she really wanted to go back, if she could only be honest. Molly had been arguing with herself most of the morning, wondering if going back to the scene of her humiliation was really a bright idea. Then again, Molly knew full well she wasn’t exactly known for making the best decisions. After grabbing her camera, she left her studio.
The city smelled of sunshine and remnants of rain as Molly stepped outside. The sky was a soft blue with strands of wispy clouds feathered across it. The day was simply gorgeous. Unable to resist, Molly snapped a couple of pictures. She documented life with this camera—the good, the bad, the ugly…and the quite beautiful, such as today. She couldn’t dismiss the happy spring in her step as she headed toward the public market. Mr. Gray Eyes probably wasn’t even there. It was a little late in the day, so the day’s catch had already been brought in—more like thrown in. Molly winced at the memory of that heavy fish clobbering her.
As Molly approached, she saw tons of people—no surprise. When the weather was even half as fabulous as this, people took advantage of it. Suddenly she felt a nervous storm thrashing around in the pit of her stomach. Okay, maybe coming down here isn’t exactly a good idea. Weaving her way through the thick crowd, she emerged at the fish market. She spied to see if any fish were being thrown. She’d be extra cautious from now on. Lesson learned. Customers were browsing the ample variety of fresh seafood, some of Seattle’s best and most world-renowned. Molly kept her distance, hanging back just far enough to get the lay of the land. It wasn’t like she wasn’t familiar with it. She’d been there lots of times. Taking out her camera, she became a spectator, hidden and safe behind the lens as she looked out onto the busy world before her. Snap. Snap. The shots she’d just captured were of a mother leaning in to speak to her small child, pointing at some lobsters and giant halibut. The mother and her son each wore happy smiles as they made this memory together. Click. Click. A couple laughed in unison, the man bending down at just the right moment to kiss the woman. That perfect moment was now tucked inside Molly’s camera. She took some shots of a few signs, peeking from behind her camera, squinting to see if the angle that she saw in her mind translated onto the screen. Then she caught sight of the smiling face with the most incredible gray eyes. Within an instant, he turned and they connected in a magnetic stare. Crap. Molly turned her glance away as quickly as she could, keeping trained on her camera and pretending that maybe he hadn’t seen her.
Reeling in Love Page 3
