Molly

Present Day . . .

The tables are set. The water glasses are iced and ready. The kitchen is prepared to plate meals in twenty minutes. The staff members are dressed and know their stations, and I’m eighty percent confident that they’re capable of doing their assigned tasks today—only eighty, because this is our first event and half my staff has never served before.

I scan the room one last time and cringe when the light catches on a handprint on the far bank of windows. I’m pretty sure that one was compliments of my son. Shit.

“Austin, run to the janitorial closet and grab the window cleaner.” I point to the handprint. “I think our cleaning staff missed a spot.”

“Sure thing, Miss Molly.”

I cringe at the nickname but don’t correct him. I think he’s just trying to be polite. Austin’s a cute kid, eighteen, and a senior at Jackson Harbor High School—the same school where I graduated with his older brother, Gabe. I did a lot more than graduate with his older brother, most of which I’d turn back time to erase if I had the choice. But it turns out Austin’s much less lazy and more respectful than Gabe, and since he has serving experience, I’m thrilled to have him on my staff.

He heads toward the exit, but then stops and snaps a picture of the empty room with his phone.

I frown. “What’s that for?”

He grins, his thumbs flying over his screen. “It looks awesome with the tables set and the linens and stuff. Schmancy. What’s the social media hashtag campaign for Jackson Brews? I’m posting this sucker on Insta.”

Oh, hell, that’s kind of sweet. “The hashtag is happeningatJacksonBrews,” I say. I should have thought of posting myself, but with everything else going on, it slipped my mind. “Thanks, Austin.”

He winks at me. “No problem, Miss Molly. Done.” He tucks his phone into the pocket of his black dress pants and disappears toward the janitorial closet.

I left my to-do list on my desk, and I’m feeling a little twitchy without it, so I head to my office even though I’m almost positive every item’s been crossed off.

When I confirm there’s nothing left to do, I plop down into my chair and realize immediately that it was a mistake. What a day. God, I’d give about anything to turn off the lights and close my eyes for twenty minutes.

“Are you okay?”

I lift my head and spot Brayden leaning in the doorway. “Everything’s fine. Great, really. I think we’re ahead of schedule.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You look tired.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Thanks.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just worried. You have a lot on your plate right now.”

It’s been a long day. After staying up packing until midnight, I woke up at four thirty and arrived onsite at six to make sure our new janitorial staff had the banquet center polished to my standards, but somehow I missed the windows. I’ll have to chat with them about that.

I stayed through my scheduled midmorning break to monitor the kitchen staff, though they probably would have done fine without me. I am tired, but I’ve handled long work days on minimal sleep a hundred times before. What Brayden sees on my face is probably less about physical exhaustion and more about how anxious I am that I might screw this up.

Giving myself a little shake, I scan my list for the third time, confirming again that we’re not forgetting anything. “I’m fine.” I force a smile I’m too exhausted to make believable. “I promise to slap on some fresh lipstick so our clients don’t think you’re overworking me.”

His gaze drops to my mouth and my bare lips. “I don’t think you need it.”

Snorting, I grab my purse. “You’re just blinded by my inner beauty.”

He doesn’t reply to that—though, really, what can he say? Instead, he narrows his eyes and asks, “How was the house you saw yesterday?”

“A total bust. I don’t need fancy finishes, and I know better than to expect them with my budget, but a working furnace in the middle of a Jackson Harbor winter is a must.”

Brayden barks out a dry laugh. “Snob.”

I laugh. “I guess so.”

“Have you thought any more about my offer?”

A lot. Nonstop. Too much. My brain’s been spinning with the implications and potential complications of moving in with Brayden. That’s half the reason I stayed up so late last night. I knew I wouldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well get some packing done.

I bite my bottom lip. I know what I need to do. I know what the best decision is, for me, for my son. “It would just be temporary.”

“I know.”

“And you have to promise you’ll tell me if we’re in your way at all. Ever.”

“I promise.”

“I’d like Santa to visit Noah there on Christmas morning—presents under the tree and his stocking hung on the mantel and the whole bit. If that’s not too much to ask. Because he’s four, and Christmas is everything to him, and—”

“That’s not a problem, Molly.”

I nod sharply. “And I think we should agree that we won’t sleep together.” His eyes go wide, but I stumble on. “Because we’ve done that, and we know it’s a bad idea and it’ll only complicate things, and I know it’s Christmastime and sometimes that can be kind of lonely so we might be tempted only to regret it later, and because I’m your employee and you’re my boss, and I like this job so I’d rather not compromise it for physical gratification.”

“That’s a lot of reasons.”

I swallow. “I have more.” But no matter how many items I add to the list, I’m still afraid it’ll fall short. Because he’s him and I’m . . . I’ve never thought myself weak before, but our night in New York proves I have very little self-control when it comes to this man.

“Do you need more?”

Maybe. Probably. But he probably didn’t need any reason at all, so it doesn’t matter. “So we’re agreed?”

“No sleeping together,” he says, but I swear his gaze drops to my mouth for a beat, and my mind flashes to our night together, his eyes on my mouth, his hand on my thigh beneath the table. Is he thinking about it too?

Lust zaps through me at the memory. I close my eyes, only to be bombarded by a thousand more. His head between my legs. His mischievous grin. The smell of him when he came back to bed and pulled me into his arms.

When I look at him again, his expression has shifted to one of concern. Is he worried that I have feelings for him? Or that maybe I’ve been thinking too much about sleeping with him, and he hasn’t thought about sleeping with me at all?

“You really do look tired. Is there anything you need me to do before the party gets here?”

Oh. That. Work stuff. Not hot, under-the-table, super-naughty, spank-bank stuff. “I’m fine.” I clear my throat and can practically hear screeching tires. I mentally shift gears. Work. “If you want to greet Mr. Yuseki when he arrives, that would be great. I think he trusts me, but he’s a little old school with the woman-in-charge situation.”

“We’ll greet him together,” he says, and some of the tension I’ve been carrying all day melts. Because yes, Brayden takes his business very seriously, and yes, he wants this to go as well as I do, but he trusts me, and he wants Mr. Yuseki—a potentially huge client for repeat business—to understand that. “Be right back.”

He disappears, and I dig in my purse for my lipstick. One look in my handheld mirror, and I see that he’s right. I look like hell. Like a woman who has too much on her plate and is too stubborn to admit it. My boss isn’t the only one who has trouble delegating.

When Brayden returns, he has a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “Caffeinate and hydrate,” he says, setting them on my desk. “Rock this luncheon, and then tonight, after the taproom grand opening, sleep. If you need help finishing packing, I’ll come over.”

“I think you have enough to do without packing my stuff.”

He shrugs. “Trust me, I’ve helped my siblings move enough times that I’m practically a pro.”

I groan. “Why do you have to be so nice?”

His lips twitch like he’s fighting a losing battle with a smile. “Would you rather have an asshole as a boss?”

“At least I know how to deal with assholes. I literally have years of experience.”

He shakes his head slowly. “Drink your coffee, Molly. I’ll come get you when Mr. Yuseki arrives.”

“Here’s to Jackson Brews,” Nic says, hoisting her glass in the air. “And another booming success.”

“Hear, hear!” Teagan says, clinking her beer against Nic’s.

The tasting room is so packed with the grand opening that the girls and I took our beers and snuck over to one of the small party rooms in the banquet center. Originally, I was going to manage the tasting room as well as the banquet center, but when interest poured in from people who wanted to use our facility for their events, it quickly became clear that we’d need someone for each position. Since Levi recently retired his motocross helmet to join the family business, it worked out perfectly. Tonight, that means I get to enjoy my friends and let him make sure everything up front is running smoothly.

Friends. Warmth sweeps over me at the realization. I spent years avoiding Jackson Harbor at all costs—avoiding my past and my family. Some days it feels like this incredible group of friends was my reward for finding the courage to return.

“And to Molly,” Nic says. “I heard today’s luncheon went off without a hitch.”

I smile. “Mr. Yuseki already booked three more luncheons, so I would call it a success.”

“That’s awesome,” Shay says. “Great work.”

“Okay,” Teagan says, glancing around the table. She points to Ava, who hasn’t stopped yawning since we settled into our table in this quiet room. “You’re knocked up and don’t want to stay out past eight most of the time.” She turns to her right to point to Nic. “And your wedding is in two weeks, and you’ll probably be knocked up shortly thereafter.”

Nic shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind, but I’d rather get through school first.”

“So pretty much,” Teagan continues, “it’s going to be me and all you bitches with your fabulous sex lives and adorable babies.”

“Um, hello?” Shay says. “Am I invisible or something?”

“Of course not, but your dissertation gets more of your attention than any hot guy in your bed would.”

Shay shrugs as if to say “fair enough.” She’s Brayden’s only sister, and though I haven’t spent a lot of time with her since moving back home, I’ve always liked her. Even when half our high school was talking shit about me, Shayleigh Jackson was always kind.

I clear my throat and raise my hand. “No fabulous sex life here. I’m single, remember?”

“But you have an adorable little boy, so shut up.”

“You want a baby?” I ask, arching a brow.

Teagan makes a face, her dark hair swinging around her face. “No. I’m just lamenting the fact that my fun, single friends are no longer . . .”

“Fun?” Ava supplies with a frown. “I don’t feel like much fun, to be honest. I’m so tired and bloated. I slept through half my honeymoon. I mean, when we weren’t . . .”

Shay holds up a hand. “We get the idea.” She shudders. “I really need to find friends who aren’t sleeping with my brothers.”

“I think it’s exciting,” Nic says. “So much awesome stuff happening.”

Teagan nods. “I’m happy for everyone. I just don’t want you bitches to forget me when you’re doing your playdates or whatever.”

Nic wraps her arm around Teagan and squeezes her. “We’re not gonna forget you.”

“How are the wedding plans coming?” Teagan asks her.

I clear my throat. “Shouldn’t you ask her official wedding planner that question?”

Nic beams. “I’m so excited. I can’t believe I get to get married in front of the lighthouse. Lilly keeps calling it the Frozen wedding and is trying to convince me to bleach my hair so I’ll look like Elsa.” She shakes her head, love for the little girl all over her face. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep the ceremony short so you don’t literally freeze.”

I smile at Nic—my friend and the first bride to trust me with her reception. “Then we’ll come back here and party. It’s going to be perfect.”

Jake appears in the doorway to the kitchenette, a tray of “The Jackson 5” flights in each hand. “I thought you ladies might be hiding back here.” He steps up to our table and slides the flights into the middle.

“God, I miss beer,” Ava whispers.

Jake winks at her. “Worth it.”

“True.” She blushes as his greedy eyes take her in, as if he hasn’t touched her in a month and they weren’t just caught making out in the kitchen thirty minutes ago.

Jake reluctantly tears his attention off his bride and turns to me. “Any luck on the house hunt?”

I shake my head. “None.”

“What are you going to do?” Ava asks softly.

I’m honestly surprised the news hasn’t already spread. Wildfire moves slowly compared to the Jackson family grapevine. “Brayden thought your idea made sense and offered to let Noah and I stay with him temporarily. I’m taking him up on it. Just until I can find something else. I told Noah this afternoon, and he’s thrilled about it.”

“Good.” Jake smiles at me. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Speak of the devil,” Ava says.

Brayden’s standing in the doorway, his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Look who’s here.”

“Mama!” Noah shouts, rushing toward me.

Grinning, I turn in my seat, open my arms, and scoop him into my lap the moment he collides with my chest. “How was your day, Mr. Man?” I ask, burying my nose in his hair. He smells like his tear-free shampoo and Play-Doh.

“Ronica took me to the park, and I got to slide through the snow!”

I drop my jaw in an exaggerated show of surprise, even though Veronica ran the snowy park idea by me before she took him. “But it’s so cold out! And it snowed all day! Are you an ice cube?”

He shakes his head. “No, Ronica made me wear a hat.” He folds his arms and scowls. “I hate my hat.”

“I’m glad she did, or you’d be Frosty the Snowman.”

He giggles. “Would not.”

I feel Brayden’s eyes on us and look up. He’s smiling. Really smiling. Warmth rushes through me at the sight of it, and when his eyes lock with mine, everything around me goes quiet and all I can hear is the beating of my own heart.

“I hear you’re moving,” Ava says to Noah, and I could kiss her for the way she makes the word moving sound like the most exciting activity in the world.

Noah bounces on my lap and smiles at his aunt Ava. “We’re going to stay with Rayden for a while! He said I can even stay in his old bedroom on the very top floor!” He turns those beautiful brown eyes to me and wraps a little hand in my hair. “How long are we staying, Mama?”

“I don’t know exactly. Until after Christmas for sure.”

His face lights up, and he turns to Brayden. “We get to spend Christmas with you? You’ll be there when Santa comes?”

The room seems to go still, as if everyone around us is holding their breath.

Brayden’s gaze flicks to mine for a beat before he nods at Noah. “I will.”

“Will you help me open my presents?”

I tickle Noah’s side. “Hey, who said you’re getting presents this year?”

My boy doubles over, his sharp giggles filling the room. “I always get presents, silly.”

The conversation turns to holiday plans. Everyone is smiling and relaxed, but I notice that Shay isn’t smiling. No, Brayden’s sister is watching me like she’s a mama bear and I just stepped too close to her cubs.