Chapter 14
Brant dashed around the house, throwing his and Jax’s dirty clothes into the hamper and the dirty dishes into the sink. His brothers were coming in today. True, they’d stay at Annabelle’s, since he had only the one bed, but—He stopped. What the heck was he doing? Cleaning for his brothers? Oh geez, he’d turned into his mother. No way would either Tucker or Gaven expect Brant’s house to be white-glove clean. Well, maybe OCD Tucker would, but too bad about that.
He wouldn’t throw the clothes he’d already tossed in the hamper back on the sofa, but if anything else was lying around, it could stay right where it was. Lainey and the kid kept him far too busy to dust knickknacks.
Maybe he could talk one or both of his brothers into babysitting tonight, and he and Molly could take a breather over at her place. A breather, heck. He wanted to steal her breath.
Why? Because he couldn’t have her? Because it had been a while since he’d been with a woman? The Tennessee–Georgia excuse didn’t work anymore, since he was looking at moving here. If anything, proximity was a mark on the negative side of the list.
Speaking of lists, Molly’s was an annoyance.
Molly, herself? Definitely not. Kind. Giving. Beautiful. Sexy. What wasn’t to like? Yet, like a thorn, she’d worked her way under his skin, and it wasn’t totally comfortable.
He grabbed his wallet from the counter and slid it into his back pocket, then picked up his keys.
“Ready, kid? If we leave right now, I’ll have just enough time to grab a quick breakfast on the way.”
* * *
Rather than have his brothers catch a cab, Brant had decided to pick them up. He and Jax parked at the Savannah/Hilton Head International Airport and were waiting by the luggage carousel when Tucker and Gaven came down the escalator.
On the way to the hospital, Brant filled them in on Jason’s visit.
“Good thing I wasn’t there.” Tucker’s jaw tightened. “I’d have punched the jerk’s lights out.”
“That’s the Marine talking,” Brant said. “You think I didn’t want to?”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I had the kid and a nearly hysterical Lainey to deal with. A knock-down, drag-out fight in front of them didn’t seem the way to go.”
“You’re right,” Tucker grunted.
* * *
As they strode through the hospital doors, Gaven carrying Jax, heads turned. Sandwiched in the middle, Brant was a year younger than Tucker and two years older than Gaven. His poor mother.
Although they all hovered right around six foot, give or take an inch, he and Gaven shared unruly brown hair and green eyes, while Tucker’s eyes were hazel to go with his nearly black hair, cut in a modified Marine style. They all carried scruff on their faces, worked hard, and had the muscles to show for it.
Yet they hadn’t managed to keep their baby sister safe, and that was a bitter pill to swallow.
Embarrassed, Lainey greeted Tucker and Gaven quietly, her gaze on her hospital wristband.
“Uh-uh.” Gaven, the extroverted, easygoing one, moved to the bed and drew her into a hug. “No walls, Sis.” His voice cracked. “We love you.”
Tucker, not quite as easy with emotion, stepped in after him with a quick, hard hug and a pat on the back. “It’ll be good. Things’ll be okay, Lainey.”
Then she reached for Jax, cradling him in her good arm. When tears rolled down her cheeks, the brothers cringed, furtive glances passing between them. Picking up on his mother’s angst, Jax grew fussy.
“Can you feed him?” Brant nodded toward the cast on her arm.
“Yes.”
Brant readied the bottle, then moved to a chair by the window to give his brothers time with Lainey. It was the first time they’d seen her since the accident.
They made small talk, then Tucker said, “Sis, you have a lot going for you. We got through this before, and we will again.”
“We?” Gaven asked. “You weren’t here.”
“That’s right. I was in the Middle East getting my ass shot at so you could play Romeo with the girls in Lake Delores.”
“Hey, guys.” Brant stood. “Not now.”
“Gaven’s right,” Tucker owned. “I wasn’t here, and I’m sorry about that. Doesn’t mean I didn’t care. Didn’t worry. This time I am, and I’ll do whatever it takes to pull you through.”
“And you don’t need Jason,” Gaven insisted. “You and Jax are both better off without him. Brant told us he showed up here.”
“I’m glad he did.” Lainey handed Tucker the empty bottle, and he tossed it across the room to Brant.
Brant caught it one-handed. “You’re glad he showed up? You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, but I am.” She squared her shoulders. “You’re right, Gaven. Jax and I don’t need him. If I had the slightest doubt about that, it’s gone. He did me a favor coming here. I don’t know what I saw in him, but I sure am glad we made this baby.” Her demeanor softened.
Before any of them could speak, a knock sounded at the door, and an aide peeked inside. “Lainey, it’s time for your X-ray.”
“And time for us to go.” Tucker leaned down for a quick kiss. Gaven did the same.
“Brant, can you stay another minute?”
“Sure.” He nodded at his brothers. “I’ll meet you guys by the front door.”
The hospital worker said, “I’ll be in the hall, when you’re ready.”
When the door closed, Lainey asked, “Will I have to go to jail after rehab?”
“No, sweetie. Your lawyer and I have it covered. Since you’re voluntarily entering rehab, there’ll be no jail.”
“I’ve forced you into the role of protector again, haven’t I? I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want apologies. I want your promise this will never happen again.”
“It won’t.” Tears coursed silently down her cheeks, and she dropped a kiss on Jax’s forehead. “I’ll miss him so much.”
“We’ll take good care of him.”
She nodded. “I swear I’ll do my job while I’m in there. When I come out, I’ll be a mother my son can be proud of.”
“I know.” He kissed her, gently took the baby from her, and left the room, the sound of her weeping shredding his heart.
As they crossed the parking lot, Gaven swiped at his eyes. “I’m not glad Mom had a stroke, but I’m relieved she and Dad aren’t here today. That visit would have about killed them.”
“She’ll get it right this time. She’s strong,” Tucker said.
Brant listened to his brothers. Gaven’s approach to life centered on emotion, while Tucker, a Marine at heart, took a more cerebral, hard-line approach. For him it was all about figuring out what had to be done, then doing it.
Gaven offered to sit in the back and entertain Jax.
They stopped at a fast-food place on the way out of town. While his brothers ordered, Brant changed Jax and sent Molly a message.
Miss you. Wish you were here with us.
Her reply was almost instantaneous. Miss you, too. Hope it went well.
It hadn’t, but he wouldn’t drop that on her.
Gaven and Tucker arrived with the food. Over burgers, fries, and a jar of pureed garden vegetables and beef, he told them a little more about the location he’d found and what he thought they might do with it.
“You say it’ll work, it’ll work,” Tucker said.
Brant looked at Gaven.
“I agree.”
After they ate, Brant drove his brothers to the old service station.
Tucker rolled down the car window and whistled. “Why hasn’t somebody else snapped this place up?”
“It’s perfect.” Gaven got out of the car with Jax. “Way to go, Bro.”
Quinlyn pulled in. When her car door opened and she slid out, Gaven took one look at her long legs and jabbed Brant in the stomach. “This the one you’re dating?”
“No, this is our real-estate agent, Quinlyn Deveraux, and you’ll leave her alone. If we make this our base, you need to remember it’s a small town. You start working your way through every single woman in Misty Bottoms, we’ll end up tarred feathered and run out on a rail.”
“What about you and your bridal-shop owner?”
“That’s different.”
“Of course it is.” Gaven rolled his eyes. He held a squirming Jax at arm’s length. “Uncle Brant’s not playing fair, is he?”
Jax let out a squeal, his little legs pumping in midair.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Gaven said.
Quinlyn joined them and together, they poked into every nook and cranny and walked every inch of the property.
Tucker stood in the middle of the parking area, thumbs in his pockets. “It’s exactly what we need.”
Gaven agreed. “What do we do to get the ball rolling?”
“I’ve explained to the owner it’ll be a cash deal,” Quinlyn answered. “Kemper Dobson will have the paperwork wrapped up in a week or so. In the meantime, with the earnest money you’ve agreed to, Frank told him to give you the key so you can start renovations.”
“Think that’s smart?” Gaven shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “I mean, what if we dump money into it, then the deal goes south?”
“It won’t,” Brant said. “In Misty Bottoms, a man’s word is golden. Heck, Jax and I are living rent-free in a house that belongs to somebody I’ve never even met.”
“That’s just weird,” Gaven said.
“That’s Misty Bottoms.” Quinlyn laughed.
“You two want to sleep on this?” Brant asked.
“Heck, no,” Tucker said. “I want to rip into the place. Make it ours.”
Gaven nodded. “Let’s write that check and get started.”
* * *
Brant dropped his brothers off at Annabelle’s, and his mind sailed straight to Molly. According to the dashboard clock, even though the day felt forty-eight hours long, it was only a few minutes past seven. Could he stop by? Call?
Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled out his phone.
Thinking about you tonight, he texted and hit Send.
Then he and Jax, two lonely bachelors, headed home.
* * *
Molly woke before her alarm the next morning with a smile on her face. Last night she’d been missing Brant, replaying her movie night with him and Jax, when her phone pinged. After reading his text, her mood had shifted for the better. She practically floated into the kitchen for her first coffee. A glance at the antique wall clock showed she had plenty of time, so she slipped outside to the deck. The temperature had fallen overnight. Dropping onto her chaise, her robe wrapped tightly around her, she savored the coffee, the morning, and her thoughts.
Could she and Brant continue this thing between them on a permanent basis? No. Could she enjoy the here and now with him? Absolutely. Darlene had been right about that.
She wondered if he was as confused by what was happening between them. Red light, green light, red light. Maybe yellow defined them best. Caution.
She hoped yesterday had gone well. More likely, though, it was a day of tears for Lainey, repressed ones for her brothers, and a whole lot of self-blame by all, deserved or not.
When her parents decided to divorce, had the situation been this fraught with emotion? She’d been a child, and she realized now she’d seen only what they wanted her to. What had gone on behind the scenes? Self-recrimination? Doubt? Sorrow and anxiety?
Had her dad walked away from them as easily as she’d assumed, or had he been more affected than he’d let on?
And why was she dwelling on this?
She forced herself to put it away and think about Cricket’s wedding. Ten chilly minutes later, she headed inside for her shower. Time to start the day.
Halfway down the stairs, she heard a rap on the front door.
There stood Brant, a grinning Jax in his arms.
“Hi.” She opened the door wide and reached for the baby. “Good morning, sweetheart.”
Jax cooed back at her, and she dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Look at you. All dressed up in a tousle cap and sweater.” Then she stepped aside “Brrr. Come on in, Brant. I didn’t think I’d see you today.”
“Don’t I get a kiss?”
She rolled her eyes and dropped a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Ooh.” She ran her fingers over his scruffy chin. “Somebody didn’t shave this morning.”
“Nope. Can’t we do better than that little peck?”
“Well, I—”
He cut her off, his lips stealing hers. When he pulled away, he said, “My brothers love the old gas station.”
“Fantastic.”
Jax kept himself busy with a musical toy while Brant spilled their plans for the place. “We’re gonna start ripping into it tomorrow.”
“But you don’t actually own it yet, do you?”
“Nope, but the owner gave us the green light.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Since you were there the first time I saw the place, I thought you might want to come by when we take our first swings, start the reno.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Ya-ya-ya!” Jax squealed.
* * *
Yesterday had flown by. The bell over the door had rung often enough to make Molly smile. Misty Bottomers and out-of-towners alike had stopped in to buy gifts and do some window shopping. She was busy restocking the accessories wall when Lettie stepped out of the back room. “All done altering that bridesmaid’s dress and free to cover the shop this afternoon.”
“You know, I’m not sure this is a good idea. Won’t I be in the way?”
“No, you don’t. No changing your mind. Run upstairs and freshen up. That man of yours will be here before you know it.”
“He’s not my man,” she mumbled.
The sky had never been bluer, but the air held a nip. Since she doubted they’d have heat in the old station, she changed into jeans and a medium-weight white-and-black sweater.
She’d be comfortable and could toss it in the wash after Jax slobbered all over it.
* * *
Brant showed up at twelve on the dot.
“Bye, Lettie.”
“Bye, Boss. Have a good time.”
She sent a look over her shoulder at the older woman, who smiled innocently back at her.
Lettie followed her outside and waved at Brant, then leaned into the back seat to give Jax a kiss. “He seems in fine fettle today.”
“We can only pray he stays that way.” Brant planted a kiss on Lettie’s weathered cheek, then turned to Molly. With a hand on either side of her face, he leaned in and kissed her soundly.
When Molly drew away, she was laughing. “You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can. Want me to do it again?”
“No.” Grinning, she said, “I want to kiss this young man you brought with you.”
Jax kicked wildly when Molly drew close. “Morning, baby. Has Uncle Brant been a good boy today?”
“Baaa!”
“Exactly what I thought.” She turned to Lettie. “If you need anything, call me. I can come back.”
“I’ll be fine. Go.”
Brant herded her inside the car and reached for her seat belt.
She smacked his hand. “I can do that.”
“Yeah, but it gives me a chance to get close enough to smell your perfume.”
“I’d say Jax isn’t the only one in fine fettle today. What exactly is a fettle?”
“Don’t have a clue.”
She glanced sideways at Brant. In the long-sleeved green Henley, his eyes looked deeper, richer. “That color’s perfect for you. You look great.”
“May I say ditto.” He eyed her jeans and sweater. “A good choice for demolition day.”
“I’m not actually doing any demolition. I’m observing. Remember?”
“Yep.”
Jax started to fuss, and Molly reached back, took his hand, and rubbed his fingers. He settled right down, and she smiled. She could do this.
When they pulled in front of the shop, Gaven and Tucker strolled out to meet them.
“Thought we’d start with those two walls in the bay area. Take a sledgehammer to them.” Gaven turned to Molly. “Want to give it a try?”
She shook her head. “I’ll keep Jax company.”
Before long, though, she found herself wearing goggles and whacking drywall.
Brant, who’d replaced her on baby duty, had cut a paper mask to fit Jax and slipped it over his nose and mouth to protect him from the dust. Then, holding Jax, he leaned against the wall that would eventually be the office and grinned.
“You look good holding that tool.”
“You got that right,” mumbled Gaven.
Brant nailed him with a look.
She brushed herself off, then made a muscle and patted it. “Not quite Rosie the Riveter yet, but getting there.”
Brant shook his head, and Tucker and Gaven laughed.
After she washed up, she moved outside with the baby to sit in the warm sunshine. A few minutes later, Brant sat down beside her and took Jax. Holding him under the arms, Brant let him practice his faux walk. Molly couldn’t help but smile.
“The guys are sending me dirty looks. Guess I’d better get back to it.”
She and Jax moved into the shade. Sprawled beneath a tree, they watched the guys’ progress. A wall went down, and Jax flinched at the noise.
“Time we headed home, isn’t it?” When the guys stopped for a water break, she sidled up to Brant. “How about I take Jax with me while you finish here?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Lettie’s at the shop. Between the two of us, we should be good.”
“Thanks, Mol.” He cupped a hand beneath her chin and tipped her face up to his. “I’m glad you came today, helped us knock down these walls. Someday we’ll look back at this and say, ‘Remember when.’”
Molly blinked. This was his first mention of a future. How did she feel about it? Happy? Sad? She honestly didn’t know.
“One small problem. I don’t have a car.”
“Take mine.”
“Your Camaro?”
“Sure.” He fished the keys from his pocket.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” He met her eyes. “I trust you.”
She went brain-dead for all of three seconds. Breathlessly, she said, “I’ll take good care of it. Of both your babies.”
“Let me help with his car seat. It’s a real bugger.” After he strapped the baby in, he pulled her close, kissed her gently.
“Mmm.” She opened her eyes and met his. Tugging on the neck of his T-shirt, she drew him to her. “One more.”
This kiss was far from gentle. Its heat nearly melted the enamel off her teeth.
“Till later.”
She nodded, unable to form words.
A sleepy baby in the back seat and a diaper bag beside her, Molly pulled Brant’s Camaro onto the two-lane road. She didn’t dare meet her own eyes in the rearview mirror for fear of what she might see there.
* * *
Traffic was light on the street outside her shop the next morning. Brant and his brothers had collected Jax and his car a little before six the previous night. They’d offered to include her in dinner, but she’d opted out. They needed time together—and she needed some time alone.
Still, Brant had sent another text just before bedtime. One that gave her some very pleasant dreams.
Molly lit several vanilla candles for both the scent and the ambience, then checked to make sure everything was in place and spotlessly clean. Lettie wouldn’t be in today, so she had the shop to herself.
She’d barely turned the sign to Open when two women breezed through the door, talking and laughing. “Good morning. Welcome to That Little White Dress. How can I help you today?”
“Hi. I’m Dawn Brower, and this is Starr. Shelly Clark, one of our best friends, is getting married, and we need a phenomenal shower gift. Something that will make everyone else jealous they didn’t buy it for her.”
“Shelly found her dress here,” Molly said. “She’ll be a beautiful bride!”
Eyeing the gowns on the rack, Starr nodded. “She mentioned you have some really great lingerie. We thought maybe we’d buy a set for her.”
“Wonderful idea. Let me show you what I have.”
“You, uh, know her size, right?” Dawn asked.
“I do.”
Half an hour later, the decision made, Molly gift-wrapped the red lace underwire bra and matching tap panties. The door had barely closed behind Dawn and Starr when the bell jingled again.
“Be right there,” she called from the back room.
“No hurry.”
She recognized that voice.
“Dad?” Dropping the empty box she’d been folding onto the counter, she hurried into her showroom. “I was thinking about you this morning.”
“Oh yeah?” He flicked a glance at her, then turned his gaze to the store and its merchandise. “Came to check out my investment.”
“Want me to get the books?”
“That would be great.”
Heading for the back room, she stopped. “What NASCAR driver do you follow now? Since Rusty retired?”
He frowned. “Where’d that come from?”
She shrugged, not wanting to explain the need to know her own father better, to feel their old connection.
“I was following Junior, but the kid decided to retire.”
Her father guffawed. “No, honey, not Rusty’s kid. Dale Earnhardt Jr. You do know who he is, don’t you?”
“Yes. He’s done some commercials. Jeans, soda, insurance.”
“Sure has. Earned himself some nice change with them, too. I kind of like Matt Kenseth. The kid’s good, and he drives clean.”
“Okay.” She vowed to look up Kenseth to find out what she could about him. It would give them something to talk about. “Do you want something to drink, Dad?”
“No, I’m good. I’ll have lunch later, then head back to Savannah.”
The day’s happy bubble burst. He hadn’t come to see her, to tell her he’d missed her. He wanted to make sure his money was safe, not his daughter.
* * *
Brant and his brothers worked their butts off, determined to make as much headway as possible before Tucker and Gaven returned to Lake Delores. They’d argued and haggled and finally decided on the best layout for their new space. Darlene’s niece volunteered to babysit Jax for a few days so he wouldn’t be exposed to the dusty construction zone.
From the second they dropped the baby off until it was time to pick him up again, the brothers sweat buckets at their new Wylder Rides shop.
But today they decided to take a lunch break rather than eat while they worked. Tucker and Gaven headed to the house, while Brant shook off the dust and washed up, determined to sneak in a visit to a good-looking brunette. If he managed to grab a bite while he was in town, so much the better.
The sign said Closed, but the door was unlocked. “Molly?”
He found her in the back room, eyes red, tear tracks down her cheeks.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He wrapped his arms around her, and she practically burrowed in. “Is someone sick? Hurt?”
She sniffed and swiped at her eyes. “No, I’m being a baby.”
“I seriously doubt that. What happened?”
“I was sitting on my deck this morning, thinking about your sister and her situation. My mind travelled to my parents and their divorce, and I wondered if maybe it had been harder for my dad than I realized.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“Okay.” Brant tread carefully, not sure where this was headed.
“A little bit ago, my shop door opened and there he was. My dad. I thought he’d come for a visit, but he’d come to check the books.” She swiped at her eyes again. “You’d think I’d learn.”
Clutching his shirt, she whispered, “Somewhere, somehow, I let him down.”
“No, Molly, he let you down.” Brant hugged her tighter. “Honey, you got caught up in an adult situation. You became collateral damage. You have no ownership in what happened between your mother and father.”
“That’s what my mom said, but—”
“But nothing. What’s your dad say?”
She shook her head. “We’ve never discussed it.”
Brant snarled. His parents had always had his back, with love. Not much wonder, Molly wasn’t in a hurry to commit to anyone. Yet here she was selling dreams to others.
The woman amazed him.
“Where’s Lettie?”
“She has today off.”
He nodded and held her for a while longer. “Listen, I’m running out for lunch. What would you like?”
“Nothing.”
“Bzzzz. Wrong answer.”
She smiled crookedly. “A grilled cheese on white.”
“You got it.”
Brant left Molly’s shop with a grim determination to track down her father. The prick hadn’t even asked her to join him for a sandwich. It seemed Jason had someone breathing down his neck for the “Worst Father of the Year” award.
Since Dee-Ann’s was the closest lunch spot, Brant steamed toward it. The minute he walked in, he recognized Mr. Stiles, who was sitting by the window in his expensive shirt and well-creased pants, his shoes shined to within an inch of their lives. He resembled Molly. Or rather, Brant corrected, Molly resembled him. The hair, the color of the eyes. But while her eyes held kindness and passion, her father’s conveyed indifference.
Dee-Ann waved to him. “Have a seat, Brant, and I’ll be right with you.”
He nodded and walked over to Stiles’s table.
The man looked up, startled, when Brant slid into the chair across from him.
“Do I know you?”
“Not yet.” Brant kept his voice level and folded his hands on the table.
Dee-Ann set a glass of sweet tea in front of him. “What’ll you have?”
“Burger. Medium well and loaded. I’ll need a grilled cheese on white, too. Both to go. I’m having lunch with Molly so she doesn’t have to eat alone. She’s a little rattled today.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Brant saw Stiles go on alert.
Concern filled the older woman’s eyes. “Anything I can do to help?”
“I’d say you could ask this guy, but I doubt you’d get an answer.”
Mr. Stiles looked confused.
Dee-Ann glanced from one man to the other. “Everything okay here?”
A muscle twitched in Brant’s jaw. “Yeah, we’re good. Can’t say I have too much respect, though, for a man who drives from Savannah to Misty Bottoms and then can’t be bothered to invite his daughter to lunch.”
Mr. Stiles tossed his half-eaten Reuben onto the plate and leaned toward Brant. “Who the hell are you?”
“Want me to call Sam?” Dee-Ann asked. “Deputy DeLuca left here not more than a few minutes ago.”
“No. We’re fine.” Brant threw her a smile. “Why don’t you get those sandwiches together? Molly’s dad and I are gonna have a little talk.”
“Molly’s dad?” Dee-Ann squinted at him. “Thought you looked familiar.” She looked back at Brant. “You let me know if you need anything—anything,” she said.
“Got you. Thanks.” Taking a quick look around the diner, he saw only two tables occupied on the other side of the room. Good. This talk was best done without an audience.
He turned back to Stiles. Keeping his voice low and controlled, he held up a finger. “First off, Molly doesn’t know I’m here.” He held up a second finger. “Second, I’ll admit I’m probably crossing a line.” Another finger popped up. “But third, you’re a real jackass.”
Red crept up from beneath the collar of that crisp shirt and spread over the older man’s face. “I hate to repeat myself, but who are you?”
“Brant Wylder, a friend of your daughter.”
Stiles said nothing for a few seconds. “That still doesn’t explain why you come slamming in here, all but crawling up my butt.”
“You hurt Molly. I don’t know why, and I guess that’s none of my business, but when you walked out on her and her mom, you owed her an explanation. You owed her your time and love, too. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been pretty stingy with both.”
When Mr. Stiles started to interrupt, Brant shook his head. “Uh-uh. I’m talking, you’re listening. You waltzed into her shop this morning, a shop she’s poured herself into, a shop that’s incredible, and didn’t bother to ask about her or tell her how fantastic that shop is. Instead, you wanted to look at the books. Then”—Brant stopped for a breath—“you left her to eat alone instead of spending an hour with that amazing woman. You left her wondering yet again how she’d failed you.”
This time Stiles’s mouth dropped open. “Molly has never failed me.”
“Have you ever told her that?”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “I don’t need to. She knows it.”
Brant shook his head slowly.
“The girl’s never, ever let me down,” Stiles spat out between gritted teeth.
“Molly thinks you left your marriage because of her.” Brant recognized he was telling tales out of school, but without some outside interference, nothing would ever change between father and daughter. If she hated him for sticking his nose in, well, he’d have to learn to live with it—or change her mind.
Stiles raised his coffee for a drink, and the cup wobbled. “I had no idea.”
“You do now, so the question becomes what are you going to do about it?” With that, he pushed back his chair and walked to the counter. “I’m starving, Dee-Ann. My burger ready?”
She hustled out of the kitchen, bag in hand. “Right here.”
He threw her a wink and a very generous tip, knowing she’d given him extra time to finish his business. “Thanks. You’re a special lady.”
He walked past Molly’s father without so much as a glance and headed out the door and down the street to another very special lady.