She just needed several more poses, ordering him to give her his best ‘pouty, yet sought-after bad boy look’, then they could wrap up. Molly wasn’t sure how much more she could take of this guy. His overall aura sucked, making her want to hurry through the shots. The way she figured it, he was gorgeous, no question, so the pictures were going to be fabulous—no need to overthink it.
What Molly needed was Tiffany to rescue her and either bring her a coffee or lure her out of her cave to go grab one. Caffeine seem to flow constantly in her bloodstream. It was part of her DNA, and there was no question she was an addict. Molly had even attempted to kick the habit, but after a brief stint in decaf rehab, she was right back at it, the need even stronger than before. There was no going back. She would always have her torrid love affair with coffee, so the people who judged her caffeine consumption could just shut it.
Just a couple more snaps. I’ve got this! Molly reminded herself over and over again. She had been working with a string of difficult models lately. Peter was a pain, but she loved his gay ass, and they had worked together enough times that it was okay for them to annoy each other. Right now, even with all Peter’s constant whining, she’d much rather suffer through working with him than spend another second with this guy.
He wasn’t even speaking to her. He didn’t need to. His coolness spoke volumes. Two can play this game. Well, okay, maybe not. Molly wasn’t really any good at the whole ‘silent treatment’ nonsense. Rudeness, however, wasn’t something she could stand and so she bottled up her normally super-positive attitude and tried to keep quiet. She wasn’t sure who was really being punished, him or her. She should start blabbing nonstop. It would serve him right. Snap. Snap. Done. Thank God.
After the model gathered his backpack, he slipped out of the studio without another word. What a joy it had been to work with him—not. At least his pictures were going to be fabulous, so it hadn’t been a complete loss.
She felt worn out. Her body desperately craved more coffee. As she yawned, tiring her eyes from looking at the bright monitor in front of her, Molly mentally tried to will coffee to magically appear. No luck. Well, the coffee wasn’t going to get itself, but as Molly fetched her purse and keys, the buzzer to her studio made her nearly jump out of her skin. Maybe the model had forgotten something—like his manners—but, then again, he hadn’t brought them in the first place. Molly laughed out loud at her own sarcastic thought. She used what little energy she had stored and answered the door. What she didn’t expect was to see Mr. Gray Eyes aka Owen standing there, holding a cardboard drink holder with two coffees and a small paper sack that had something delicious and sugary protruding from it.
“Owen.” Distracted by the coffee and his gorgeous smile, Molly was a little slow to react.
“Molly,” he playfully shot back. After mocking her, Owen quickly recovered with a sly and sexy grin then held up the coffee as a peace offering.
Her caffeine habit struck again, taking her prisoner, as usual, and here was Owen—unbeknownst to him—feeding her addiction. Bringing coffee earned him some major brownie points, but Molly was curious how exactly it was that he’d found her studio.
“Sorry for coming by like this. No, wait… I’m not sorry.” Owen laughed, causing a happy light to dance in his already-beautiful eyes. Molly sighed.
“How did you find my studio?”
“You know, the usual creepy stalker way. I followed your every move,” he answered nonchalantly.
Molly raised her eyebrows and Owen laughed again.
“I just looked you up. You are listed, by the way. Sorry, but your secret hideout isn’t so secret.”
He had a point there. She hadn’t thought about that. “Well, since you are bearing gifts of coffee, you can come inside.” Molly moved away from the door and welcomed him in.
“So I did good, then?” He raised the cardboard tray.
Molly nodded and Owen slid past her.
“Wow, this is some place you’ve got here.”
She closed the door and watched him as he gazed up at the ceiling, his mouth slightly open in surprise. “Thanks. I love it here,” Molly said as she headed over to her large table, waving for him to join her.
“I can see why.”
“Come on. Bring those cups over here. God, you have no idea how much I needed a coffee.” Molly yawned and took a good long look at her salvation.
He hurried over to her. She noticed again that he was fairly tall, but everyone was tall compared to her. Despite her headache from caffeine deprivation that was nagging at her from behind her eyes, she noticed how his legs looked long and muscular in the dark-wash jeans he was wearing. The cream-colored cable knit sweater only enhanced his golden, sunbathed skin and the darkness of his hair. But Owen’s eyes? They were bright and captivating, and they were almost enough to distract her from the much-needed contents of those cups.
“Thank you for bringing these.” Molly accepted the one that was offered to her as Owen sat next to her.
“Who doesn’t love coffee?” Owen asked, raising one eyebrow. “Especially in Seattle.”
Molly nodded in agreement and anxiously took a sip, not caring if it burned her mouth. She could tell almost right away that something was off. She glanced up at him, taking another swallow. She waited for it—the buzz. It never came. “Owen?”
“Yeah?” he answered, sipping his and eyeing her curiously.
“Please, for the love of all that is right and holy in this world, tell me that this isn’t—”
“Decaf?” Smiling, he nodded. “No one needs caffeine this late into the day.”
Molly blinked hard for a moment before stuttering, “W-What?”
Owen’s face lost its smile once he realized that Molly wasn’t happy. “Well, it’s just that I can’t sleep if I drink coffee in the afternoons. I actually cut off any kind of caffeine right around noon. I have to be up early to be out on the water to fish,” Owen explained.
Molly couldn’t care less about fishing or anything that was not caffeinated at the moment, and she pushed her cup away from her. “I can’t even.” She was annoyed and the persistent throbbing was now growing fiercer.
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t know if you even drank coffee,” Owen defended himself as he took another sip.
The cup stood there in front of her, beckoning and teasing her with its false promises. She reached for it again. She was already missing the taste of the fine roasted blend of beans. Too bad it was decaf and served no real purpose. Molly sighed. His heart had been in the right place. She’d give him that.
“Let me make it up to you. How about dinner?” His eyes searched hers, and she could see the worry behind them. “I don’t think I can screw that up.”
Should I take the leap and go for it? Molly wasn’t sure what to do. After weighing it all out in her mind, she decided that the man had brought her coffee, after all, even if it had been decaf. That would have normally been a deal breaker, but looking into his eyes, she felt herself melt. His lips were pressed tight. She could read the doubt and anticipation on his face, as hints of his aftershave wafted over to her.
“Yes.” Molly was suddenly very hungry, but dinner was the last thing on her mind. Was it bad that she wanted to jump his bones? She didn’t even know this guy. This was another reason why Mackenzie felt the need to mother Molly. She wasn’t exactly the best at making decisions and her impulsive nature quite often got her in trouble. Molly mentally flicked off the angel that was on her shoulder, advising her to behave and not to have such lustful thoughts. Um, does that dumb angel see how hot Owen is? She could almost see a tiny devil grin with delight as it sat perched on her other side. Maybe she should suggest takeout and make this a bedroom dinner date?
* * * *
“This is amazing, Owen,” Molly moaned. Succulent and golden, not quite as gorgeous as Owen, but some of the best fish she had ever eaten.
“It was caught this morning by yours truly,” he said with pride.
&nb
sp; Molly watched him as he ran his thick fingers across his lips—slowly, effortlessly—and it drove her wild. She wanted those fingers to be touching her. Who would have thought eating fish ’n’ chips by the waterfront as the Seattle evening sun slipped into the water would be so arousing?
Owen eyed her curiously. “You okay?” But the sexy smirk on his face told her that he knew very well she was more than okay.
She tried to gather her wits and scolded herself for getting caught staring at him. “Yep, all good.”
“Want to take a walk, then?” Owen offered.
She could tell that he didn’t want this night to end any more than she did. “That sounds great.”
Owen gathered their trash and quickly shoved it inside a large garbage can. He held out his hand to her and Molly hesitated for a moment. This felt too easy, too comfortable and very much like the start of something. Was that really what she wanted? It had nothing to do with Owen and everything to do with her. The ship of ‘what ifs’ began to sail inside her mind, bobbing all around her thoughts. This was what Molly did, what she was famous for—besides her photos—her self-doubt and self-sabotaging ways. Why couldn’t she just be normal and grab his hand? Something warm and strong gripped hers. Owen had made the choice for her.
* * * *
Friendship Friday was in full swing at Mackenzie’s house. They all had their pajamas on and were seated on the floor. Beer and pizza was tonight’s choice—a full-on carb party, no questions asked. Well, there were questions, but they were all centered on Molly’s impromptu dinner date with Owen.
Molly leaned back against the couch, stretching out her short legs that were covered in pink flannel with tiny green frogs. The pajamas were playful, silly, comfy and had been a gift from her young niece. Molly loved them. She grabbed her beer bottle, letting the bitter taste splash in her mouth before swallowing it down.
Mackenzie had on navy blue silk pajama bottoms with a matching top and she was lying on the champagne-colored carpet. She tucked a throw pillow under her head and stared up at the ceiling when she spoke. “I still think it’s odd that he went to your studio.” There was a coolness in her tone that confused Molly, but she brushed it off. Mackenzie could come off as overbearing or moody at times, but she always had the best of intentions.
Tiffany was sitting crossed-legged, wearing black yoga pants and an over-sized Seattle Seahawks T-shirt, her long hair in an untidy ponytail, strands of hair still loose around her face. “I don’t. I mean, he’s been trying to get Molly to agree to have coffee. He brought coffee,” Tiffany argued as she nibbled on the large slice of gooey cheese pizza from her paper plate.
“So you don’t think it’s kinda creepy that he just showed up unannounced?” Mackenzie shot back. Molly could feel some tension starting to move in like a storm front, and it worried her. Mackenzie and Tiffany had been known to disagree quite a bit, and it was usually over the most ridiculous things. Molly feared this might quickly become one of those tiffs if she didn’t intervene.
“Hey, it worked out. Yes, it was a little surprising that he just showed up, but it led to me going out to dinner with him. Let’s not forget that.”
And it had been unexpectedly lovely. She hadn’t laughed that hard with someone of the opposite sex in ages, nor had she fought the tangle of butterflies that seemed to take flight inside her. There was just something about Owen that messed with her chemistry. It was like his body had sent off little waves of attraction, and there was no use in fighting it. She and her body were completely ready to surrender to him. Molly had lost the thread of the conversation, thinking about all the ways she found Owen hot, when she heard Mackenzie raise her voice slightly.
“Yeah, it worked out this time.” Mackenzie shot icy daggers at Tiffany before she peered over at her. “Moll, you need to be more careful. Anything could have happened. You were alone in that studio and no one would even have known you were in trouble.” Mackenzie sat up, looking at Molly with more concern than anger.
“Molly is a grown-ass woman, Mackenzie,” Tiffany countered back, crossing her arms like an upset child. She huffed.
“You guys, it’s okay. Owen’s a good guy, or… Well, at least he didn’t kidnap or kill me,” Molly joked. She wanted this to stop before it got out of hand, but she worried it might be too late.
Tiffany rolled her eyes and frowned. “Seriously, not everyone is a psychopath. I hate that Mackenzie acts this way any time either of us want to date anyone.”
“Excuse me? I act like what?” Mackenzie’s eyes were burning with anger. Her voice boomed, and Molly knew she was too late to stop the blow up.
“Mackenzie, just calm the hell down. You always make such a big deal out of stuff.”
Molly swallowed another gulp of beer. It hit her nervous stomach as she watched her two friends prepare to battle. This was not going to be pretty.
“I don’t make a big deal, but I also don’t wander around like a bumbling idiot, either.”
“Are you saying that either me or Molly is the idiot in question? Because you better check yourself, like right now,” Tiffany shot back, her volume rising slightly.
“Oh, come on. You know exactly what I mean. Don’t twist my words, Tiffany. You always try to pull that crap, and it gets old.”
“Yeah, but you always act like we’re the foolish ones and have no clue how to live—and you have all the answers. You have it all together and we are just running around stupidly.”
“Well, you have had your moments, Tiffany. I’ll give you that.” Mackenzie stared at Tiffany, not backing down. Molly was growing more uncomfortable as the tension in the living room was building, thick and nasty.
“Mackenzie, you are far from perfect, so it’s kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” Tiffany stood up. Mackenzie jumped off the carpeted floor.
Molly wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. God, I hate it when they fight.
“Oh, please. I have my shit much more together than you, sweetheart.”
“Really? Because I don’t see you all happily married and living the dream, now do I?” Tiffany asked with her hands on her hips.
Crap. Tiffany had gone there. Molly closed her eyes, willing this all to stop.
Mackenzie’s shoulders slumped, and her whole face went blank. “I think you should probably go home now.”
“Fine by me. But just remember, you need to quit trying to mother us. Molly is allowed to do what she pleases. She doesn’t need to check in with you.”
“Sorry that I was being a good friend and caring about her safety.”
Tiffany started to grab her purse and jacket. “A good friend wouldn’t make her friends feel like they were complete morons all the time. She would support and encourage them. Just sayin’.” Tiffany ran out of the door, slamming it hard as she left.
Damn. Mackenzie remained standing and Molly felt trapped as she awkwardly remained on the floor. She should probably go. Molly hated being caught in the middle, being tugged by both Mackenzie and Tiffany to see their side. It was not something Molly liked one bit.
“Can you friggin’ believe her?” Mackenzie was staring out at the door, her arms crossed, hugging herself.
“Mac, I don’t really want to…” Molly’s voice trailed off.
“Yeah, I know. You never do. That’s because you always take her side.” Mackenzie looked down at Molly.
“No, I don’t. That’s not fair, Mac.” Molly rose from off the floor.
The night was ruined—no more beer, no more junk food and definitely no getting to watch the movie Tiffany had brought over. Molly had looked forward to this night all week.
“You’re right. It’s not fair, but it’s true. You are always so afraid to say something against her. It’s like you feel this need to protect her at all costs.” Mackenzie stared at Molly, making her feel like she had just been punched in the gut with guilt. “What about me, Molly?”
“Oh dear. Mac, I’m sorry—” She tried to apologize but was
met with Mackenzie raising her hand for Molly to stop.
“Don’t bother. This is something that will never change. It’s always been this way, and it always will be.” Mackenzie walked over to the coffee table that they had pushed out of the way from where they had all been sitting just minutes ago, and she grabbed the plastic case that held the DVD. “Can you please give this to her?”
Molly nodded and accepted the case. “I really am sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” Mackenzie flopped down on her couch, covering herself with a fleece throw. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
Molly frowned and started to grab her bag. “Night, Mac,” she said quietly as she left.
Fights happened, she knew that, but this one hurt a little more than the other arguments in the past. This one felt like the cuts were deeper and she knew without question that this wound would take a while to heal.
* * * *
“No, I’m not going to call her. Molly, quit trying to fix this,” Tiffany warned her.
It had been nearly a week since the fight on Friday and neither of her two best friends were speaking. Molly knew that this was going to take a while for them to get over, but she’d been hopeful that she could talk some reason into her.
“I know, but, Tiff, you guys are friends. It’s all so dumb, if you think about it. Mackenzie was just being—”
“Yeah, I know. She was only being Mac, and, quite honestly, I’m sick of it.” Tiffany grabbed her coffee and put it to her mouth, looking away briefly from Molly. Molly followed her eyes. They were wet and focused on the busy street just outside their favorite coffee shop. “Gosh, you always defend her, Molly.”
Her too? She kept being accused of taking the other’s side, when, in reality, she didn’t want to take either, but being in the middle meant being a part of their tug-o-war game.
Reeling in Love Page 5
