I figured Molly wouldn’t want to cook anything for dinner after cooking all day, and I wasn’t in the mood to cook myself—especially since I still hadn’t made it to the store—so I decided to pick up pizza on the way home. That seemed to suit Timmy just fine, as he scarfed down a few slices before disappearing running off to play with Kyle, along with his new friend Drake, and Drake’s dog Rocky. I didn’t mind, because it allowed me to spend the time with Molly.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” she asked when Timmy scampered off. “Julie already watched him all day.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “There’s a teenage boy here this summer named Drake. I know the boys spent part of the day with him, along with his dog. They played some ball, and I think they even fished a little bit, although I doubt they caught anything.” I let out a chuckle. “I don’t think there’s a lot of fish in Sweetbay Lake.” I was pretty sure the lake was man-made.

“Probably not,” Molly agreed. She took a drink of wine and leaned back in her chair, looking visibly more relaxed than when I’d picked her up at work barely an hour before. “Well, I’m glad Julie got a little bit of a break since they found this new friend, Drake. They probably look up to him because he’s older,” she said. “And it doesn’t hurt that he has a dog.”

“Right,” I said. “As for Julie. I think she’s just happy Kyle that has a friend.”

“It must be very difficult for her, raising Kyle by herself while Rickie’s away.”

‘Away.’ She had an interesting way of referring to Julie’s husband being incarcerated. “I’m sure it is at times, but she’s a tough woman, and she’s doing well.” My eyes met Molly’s. “Just like you’ll do well on your own, too.”

She gave me a half-smile, but it wasn’t a confident one. “I want to believe that, but it’s hard for me. I’ve always been dependent on others.”

Yeah. Not to mention beat down by an abusive asshole who wanted her to believe she was useless on her own, so she wouldn’t dare try to leave him. I vowed to myself that if I ever ran into her ex, I’d beat him to a pulp if I could. I didn’t consider myself to be a violent guy. Not at all. But I wasn’t any weakling, either, having played varsity soccer while at the University of Virginia. With the right provocation, I could do some damage to a guy’s face. And hurting Molly? That was plenty of provocation to hurt someone back.

“You’re going to do fine on your own,” I tried to assure Molly. “I have faith in you.”

“I’ve glad someone does.” A dry hiccup of laughter escaped, letting me know that she was less confident. “What did you do all day while I was gone, anyway?” she asked, changing the subject. “Were you able to get a lot of writing done?”

“I wish.” I sighed as I reached for the wine bottle to top off my glass, fully realizing that I was probably conforming to a stereotype again. “I tried. My intentions were all good,” I said. “I took a notebook and pen down by the lake, hoping to become one with nature and the water, and allow my creative juices to flow.”

“And they didn’t?”

I shook my head. “Not at all, no.”

“What happened?”

Another sigh. “Kiki was there. Along with Darcy.”

Molly’s lips tightened into a narrow line. “Who are they?”

Who, indeed? I weighed how best to describe them. “Kiki works as a stripper at a club in town, and likes to sunbathe topless by the lake when the weather’s nice,” I said. “It was today, which meant her very considerable assets were on full display.”

“I see,” Molly said, her expression revealing nothing of what she might be thinking. “What about Darcy? Does she also like to go topless?”

“Yes, but that’s not the problem.” I smiled wryly. “Darcy is a ‘he,’ and he prefers to go bottomless, if you will.”

“Oh.” Molly’s mouth opened and closed as she took this in, and then she smiled. “Darcy, huh? As in Mr. Darcy?” She sounded amused.

“No, just Darcy,” I said. “It’s his first name, and believe me, he’s not nearly as sexy as Colin Firth.” I realized how badly that came out, and tried to backtrack. “Not that I find Colin al that sexy, because I don’t, but this Darcy... he’s pale and skinny, with a bad comb-over, and well, he’s not generously endowed, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I get it, yeah.” She blushed, which I found adorable, and diverted her gaze to her empty plate. “I don’t think Colin’s particularly sexy, either, at least in the typical definition, but there’s just something about him.” Molly looked up again, smiling. “I mean, he is Darcy, you know?”

I knew, of course. I was a writer, after all. I could only hope that if someday, my books were ever to be made into a movie, that the chosen actor could bring Jackson to life as well and as memorably as Colin Firth had Fitzwilliam Darcy. On a far more serious note, I recognized that Molly knew literature, and she also appeared to have a deep appreciation of cinema, something that could, and likely would, make me fall a little bit in love with her.

That scared me a lot, so I stood up to clear the plates and pizza boxes. “Help yourself to more wine,” I suggested. “I’ll be right back.”

In the cabin, I put the dishes in the sink and the boxes in the trash. And I tried to get a grip. Friends, Dak. Just friends. She wanted to be single. She wanted to discover her independence. She wanted to heal a heart that was battered, bruised and beaten. She wasn’t looking for a casual hook-up with a horny writer. And I’d have to accept that, for now, and wait.

Meanwhile, I’d stay the hell away from the Sweetbay Lake, at least when Kiki was there with her assets on display. In other words, I’d do well to avoid the lake every day for the rest of the summer. That’s okay. It wasn’t very good for the writing, anyway.

I got back outside to see Molly holding something that resembled an envelope in her hand, and waving goodbye to Callie Johnson. “What was that about?” I asked.

“Oh, Callie was just inviting people to her wedding.”

“Yeah, she does that a lot. She’s pretty excited.” In the meantime, while she waited for her fiancé, Austin, to return from the service, Callie cared for Austin’s grandmother, Maggie, who was kind to everyone at the resort, despite some health issues.

“I know, that’s why Julie warned me not to say too much to her. You know, about my situation.”

“Makes sense.” I doubted a young woman with a fiancé in the military cared to hear too much about the woman who lost her husband to that same military.

Molly set the invitation down on the table. “I probably won’t be here by the time the wedding rolls around, anyway.”

“Perhaps not,” I said, although I hated the thought of her leaving. “Speaking of which, have you figured out what to do about the tent?” I knew she’d reserved the spot for only three nights.

“Not really,” Molly said. “Obviously I have to stay. I’m not too keen on the tent, but at least it’s cheap.”

“You could always stay with me,” I offered. “Two bedrooms, plus a sofa. We could make it work.”

“We probably could, but no,” Molly said predictably. “It wouldn’t be right.”

No. She was too focused on establishing her independence, and I was too much of a stranger. I got it. “Okay,” I said, “but let me offer you a proposition.”

“What’s that?”

“Keep the tent. It’ll cost you a lot less than a cabin, so you’ll save some money, but you can use my bathroom and shower and stuff,” I offered. “You know, so no walking down the trail in the middle of the night, or first thing in the morning with your shampoo, or whatever.”

“Are you serious?” Molly asked. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all.” I smiled.

“In that case I accept. I’m already over that community bath.”

I laughed. I couldn’t blame her. I don’t think I would have lasted more than a night or two in a tent.