Page 56 of Molly

Beckett pauses, shoves a second cookie in his mouth, and looks between the two of us. “I'm just going to...” He steps backwards, down the hallway, the container in one hand and a cookie in the other.

Ryan watches him leave, and then his eyes refocus on me. He leans down and rests his forearms on the counter, lifting an eyebrow at me in question.

“Right, um. I made you some cookies...” I rush out.

“I can see that.”

I place my hands flat on the counter and take a deep breath. “Look, I can't promise I won't freak out again. It's just who I am. But you're right. Emma and I deserve more. I want more for us.” He nods, gesturing for me to continue. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I don't want you to be a part of our lives, Ry.”

He nods again, reaching to open up the container of cookies in front of him. He takes one out and bites into it. He closes his eyes and sighs. “I thought Penny was the baker?”

I grin. “I can hold my own.”

“I can see that. First the banana bread and now cookies. Should I expect baked goods every time we argue?” He grins.

“If you're lucky,” I reply, leaning in.

“Oh, I think I'm pretty damn lucky,” he says, closing the remaining distance between us and placing a soft kiss on my lips.

I pull back and blink up at him. “I want to meet your mum.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding surprised. I nod in response. “She invited us to a barbeque next weekend. My whole family will be there, so you’d get to meet them all, not just my parents. That okay?”

“Mhmm, sounds good to me,” I reply, leaning in again. “You want to come to the beach with Emma and me tomorrow?"

His face breaks out in the most beautiful smile. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

30

MOLLY

“Molly! What the fuck! Put that dress back on right fucking now!” Ryan screams, picking my pale pink sundress dress up off the picnic rug we've laid out on the sand and throwing it at me.

“What? Why?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“Because you're standing there in the world tiniest fucking bikini! Everyone can see you!”

I raise an eyebrow and try not to laugh as his face turns bright red. His eyes are darting around like a crazy person. I step forward and place my hands on his chest.

“Ryan, honey, we're at the beach. What did you think I was going to wear?”

He’s too busy glaring at a man standing to our right to look at me as he speaks. “I don't know, Molly. A one-piece? A fucking wet suit. I don't know! Not that!”

I laugh and lean forward, pressing my lips to his sternum. “Does it not look good?” I ask in a mocking tone.

Before Ryan, I would never have worn this little black bikini in public. I would have worn a one-piece with board shorts. The way he loves my body, the way he appreciates it, makes me want to do the same.

Do I feel completely confident right now? No. Do I worry that everyone will see my stretch marks and the extra skin hanging from my belly? Yes. Am I going to let it stop me from enjoying myself today? No.

“Molly, you look fucking incredible. That's not what I meant,” he replies, lowering his voice and staring down at me with a distressed look on his face.

I weave my hands around his neck and pull his lips down to mine. “I know,” I whisper.

“Baby, I want to gouge out the eyes of every man standing on this beach. Please put it back on.”

I shake my head and smirk.

He groans. “Molly.”

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