Page 20 of Someone to Hold
Double shit.
I throw on a sweatshirt and jeans, shove my feet into boots, and race out of the trailer like the place is on fire.
“Good morning,” I call to the trio moving down the gravel driveway, slowly because of Molly’s crutches.
The kids wave and keep walking, but she stops and looks over her shoulder at me. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in what I imagine is some legit bed head. I’m also still buttoning up my fly.
Her brows furrow. “Long night?”
“Something like that,” I say. How do I explain that the hoursof sleep I lost were her fault? Or at least dream Molly’s fault. I tossed and turned, hard as a rock, even after taking myself in hand once. No, make that twice.
I’ve had no desire to get back on a bull since the accident, but even less desire to hook up with a woman. Now I can’t stop thinking about the one woman I can’t let myself want. My type has always been easy on the eyes, hard and fast in the bedroom, with zero strings attached. Molly is none of those things, so there’s no accounting for my reaction to her.
“Mom, I hear the bus,” Luke calls.
“It’s here early,” Laurel adds.
Molly’s fingers tighten on the crutches.
“I’m sorry I missed breakfast,” I say as I finish buttoning my jeans. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I’m pretty sure the reason her cheeks are suddenly flushed has less to do with exertion and more with the flash of abs I just gave her.
“Chase will walk you the rest of the way,” she tells the twins. “Love you both. I’ll see you later today at the party.”
“Bye, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you, Mommy.”
“I really am sorry,” I say as I move past her. Like she has any reason to believe me.
“I need to leave here at nine to make some deliveries. After they get on the bus, I could use help loading the tubs of flowers into the back of the truck.” She gives me a funny look. “And I’m guessing you need a shower.”
So maybe she wasn’t looking at my stomach. The thought is annoyingly disappointing.
I jog around the curve of the driveway where the kids have disappeared.
“Can I ride Fancy after school?” Laurel asks by way of greeting.
“Good morning to you, too,” I answer. “Did you ask your mom?”
“Mommy said no,” Luke tells his sister, not meeting my eyes. “She doesn’t want you riding some cowboy horse. It could bite you.”
“Do you want to try feeding Fancy a carrot?” I ask Luke.
“I want to feed her another carrotandride,” Laurel answers first.
“Mommy said no,” Luke repeats, then looks up at me. “You missed breakfast, and Mommy makes the best blueberry muffins, and horses bite.”
Before I can explain again that my horse isn’t going to bite anyone, the bus pulls up and the door swings open.
Laurel gets on first, and through the window, I see her sit with another girl. The two of them immediately start giggling. Luke is slower to board. He hands the driver a brown paper bag, and the old man offers a stained-tooth grin.
“Thanks, buddy. I appreciate you and your mom thinking of me.” He pulls a muffin out of the bag and takes a bite before raising it in my direction. “Molly’s the best.”
I nod as the door closes, and the bus trundles off down the road. Luke has taken a seat by himself and glares at me as I wave when the bus rolls past.
Teddy and I always sat together in the back. Does Luke have a friend getting on at a later stop? I’m not convinced. And despite knowing better, I vow right here and now that I’m going to help that boy make a friend. For Teddy.
I expect to see Molly still making her way back to the house, but the driveway is empty. There’s a flash of movement near the greenhouse as I climb the porch steps, and her apparent industriousness makes me feel like an even bigger loser. More so when the scent of freshly brewed coffee and homemade muffins greets me as I enter the house. I don’t deserve to pour myself a cup, but all I’ve got in the trailer is instant, which isn’t going to cut it this morning.
