Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
The sound of the garage door opening interrupts the silence.
“That’s Molly,” I tell Shay.
She snorts. “God, perpetually single Brayden is suddenly going to have to choose between the two women he could never resist. Maybe they’ll fight over you.”
I scowl at her. “You’re hilarious. Despite that stunt you pulled earlier, that isn’t what’s happening here. And I don’t want you putting poison in Molly’s ear regarding Sara.”
“Why not? Are you worried I might say something that could ruin their potential friendship?”
“I know you’re angry with Sara, but let me figure this out by myself.”
Sighing, Shay drains her glass and stands. “Okay. Let me know if I can help.”
I huff a hollow laugh. “I’m not sure how you can.”
Her smile is gentle. “I’m a good listener.” She tears her gaze off me as the door to the garage clangs open down the hall. The house fills with the sound of little feet racing down the hardwood. “I think your fan club is here.”
“Rayden!” Noah calls, rushing into the family room. “Rayden, I’m home! Come see the snow fort I maked in the backyard!”
“The snow fort you made,” Molly corrects gently as she steps into the family room. She hands her son a blue-striped scarf and matching hat. “If you’re going out back, you need to wear these.”
“I’ll be right back, buddy,” I tell Noah. “I’m going to walk Shay out and grab my coat.”
“Okey-dokey,” Noah singsongs.
I follow Shay to the front, grabbing my spare jacket from the coat tree and shrugging it on as we step onto the porch.
“Why do I feel like you’re escorting me to my car to make sure I don’t stay and talk to Molly about Sara?”
I shrug. “So what if I am?”
She frowns at me. “I know you don’t want my opinion—”
“Then don’t give it.”
“But I’m one hundred percent Team Molly.”
“Is that so?” I walk around Shay’s car and open the door for her. “What happened to being worried that Molly is on her way to breaking my heart?”
She shrugs and climbs into her car. “That was before Sara came back to town.”
“Bye, Shay.” I close the door.
She points her finger at me and shouts loudly enough that I can hear her through the glass, “Team Molly!”
Molly
“Can I get you two another round?” the waitress asks Friday night.
I raise my pint glass—which is still two-thirds full—and shake my head. “This will be all for me tonight.” Last time I was at Jackson Brews with Jason, I was trashed and made bad decisions. Is that why he suggested we meet here? Was he hoping for a repeat of the night of the Christmas party? Or did he suggest the bar, hoping Brayden might see us together?
Jason frowns at his empty glass and then looks to me. “Do you mind if I have another?”
“Go for it.”
“I’ll have the Sunny Day IPA this time,” he tells the waitress.
“Good choice,” she says.
She heads to the bar to fill his order, and I pull out my phone to snap a shot of the chalkboard behind the bar and Jake at the taps filling a beer. Jackson Brews has a nice crowd lingering at the bar and filling half the tables tonight. I’ll post the pic later with the happeningatJacksonBrews hashtag. The hashtag campaign was Levi’s idea, and it’s worked beautifully to raise awareness about all our offerings.
Jason folds his arms on the table and leans forward. “You know, I wouldn’t judge you if you had a second beer.”
I shake my head. “I have a long day tomorrow. Anyway, I don’t like to have more than a drink or two at a time.”
“Except for at the Christmas party?”
I sip my beer. I can’t believe that was only six days ago. This week has been so damn long. “That was a bad day, and the tequila didn’t make it better.”
He smiles, and his hazel eyes scan my face. “Up until you started crying and I got a personal introduction to Brayden’s right hook, I thought we were having a nice time.”
“It was fine. I mean, you’re great, and we were having fun, but . . .” I’m rambling. I take a breath and try to explain. “Drunken hookups were my typical bad-day fix when I was in high school. Saturday was a regression of sorts.”
“Ouch,” he says, but his smile softens it.
“You aren’t the regression, just the way I acted.”
He shrugs. “I’m pretty sure it takes two.”
I smile. I appreciate that. Jason is . . . nice. He’s been polite all evening, asks all the right questions, says all the right things, and I think he’s sincerely interested in more than getting between my legs. But sober Molly isn’t sure what drunk Molly was thinking. Hell, I’m not even sure what Thursday-morning Molly was thinking by accepting this date. I don’t get any spark when I look at him, and my belly has been completely normal all night. There’s no sign of the butterflies Brayden inspires with little more than a smirk across the room.