Page 40 of Molly

She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. “Yeah, that's probably it.”

19

RYAN

“What’s up, man? You’ve been in a mood for three fucking weeks.”

Beckett’s standing at the counter, looking through the computer at his appointment book. Ever since lunch with the girls, he’s been stomping around the shop like a grizzly bear.

“Nothing, I’m good,” he grumbles. His phone dings and he rips it from his pocket, staring at it with a scowl on his face before his fingers start flying around the screen. Whoever’s on the receiving end of that, I’m glad I’m not them.

“Doesn't have anything to do with your little talk with Penny?” I tease.

His head snaps up, and he glares at me. “It’s got nothing to do with Penny. Leave it alone,” he grits out, throwing his phone down on the counter and storming down the hall to his room.

Jesus. It’s like working with a moody teenager.

I’m trying to decide if I should go after him or leave him be when the door opens and in walks my angel, Emma in her arms.

“Hey, honey, thought we’d pop by and see you on our way home. How’s your day been?” She smiles, and I swear it lights up the whole fucking room. I’ve seen them both every day for the past three weeks, but the feeling never gets old.

As she gets closer, Emma holds her little arms out, wanting me to take her. She’s become my best bud, loves me carrying her around. Every time she does this, my heart swells. I lean in and give Molly a quick peck. “Day’s been good, baby, better now my girls are here.”

I take Em and bounce her up and down on my hip. She giggles, tightening her grip on my neck. I look down at Molly, and she’s staring at us with so much love on her beautiful face. “You coming over for dinner?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

Emma claps her little hands together and starts chanting, “Sweep over, sweep over, sweep over.”

I haven’t spent the night at Molly’s yet. I come over after work, and we cook dinner, or she cooks dinner, and I try to help. Then I do the dishes while Emma has a bath, and we play for a little while before bed. I take off after that and spend the night tossing and turning in my bed, wishing I was with them. We also still haven’t had sex, which means I walk around most days with a severe case of blue balls.

“We thought maybe you’d like to sleepover?” she asks.

Yesssssss.

“Sounds good to me, baby. I should finish up my last client around five, and then I can swing home, grab a change of clothes and head over?” I try to keep the excitement out of my voice, play it cool. I fail, but I try.

“Easy peasy. I thought maybe we could just order a pizza or something? This week’s been crazy. I just want to veg out on the couch,” she replies.

“Alright, well, I’ll stop and pick up a family-sized Hawaiian on the way to yours, then?” I wink.

She nods, and I lean in, putting my forehead against hers before kissing the tip of her nose and handing Emma back.

A Friday night sleepover with my two favourite girls.Luckyme.

???

The pebbles beneath my feet crunch as I walk up Molly's driveway, pizza in hand. She left the porch light on for me, so I can clearly make out the intricate pattern carved into her front door. One of her regular customers made it for her when he found out she bought this place. I realised I'm more than a little possessive when she told me about it, and it pissed me off. As cool as the door is, I hate that another man made it for her.

I turn the doorknob, and the first thing that hits me is Emma’s laughter.

God, what a sound.

“Hi, honey. Come on in,” Molly calls from the kitchen.

I take my shoes off, leaving them at the front door, and look up when I hear footsteps. Molly’s grinning at me, wiping her hands off with a tea towel that matches the bohemian style rug in the lounge. I put the pizza box down on the table she has sitting by the front door and open my arms. She picks up her pace, crashing her body into mine, wrapping her arms around my waist. I duck my head, burying my nose in her hair, breathing her in.

She takes a step back after a moment and looks up at me with those heart-stopping green eyes. “You want a drink, Ry?” she asks me sweetly.

“Love one,” I reply.

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