Butter You Up: A Grumpy Sunshine Romantic Comedy

25. Alex

Perryand I rush over to Molly. I tried to warn her about the cow patty, but I was too late—just like I was too late remembering that I left my phone in the office despite having told her to track me down before she left.

She stepped right into it, and, unfortunately, her downhill momentum kept her moving even after she hit the ground. Her massive bun of curls came to rest directly in the pile of cow shit.

Perry and I land on either side of her.

“Are you okay?” he asks first, brow creased in concern.

“Did you hit your head?” I ask.

Molly’s brows match ours. “Yes? And no?”

“Yes, you’re okay, and no, you didn’t hit your head?” I clarify.

“Right. I mean, I kind of did hit my head, but the ground is pretty soft. Or whatever I landed in…” She raises her head slightly, and her arm comes up.

“I…wouldn’t do that,” I caution her.

Her head falls back with an enormous sigh. “I fell in cow shit, didn’t I?”

“That is the bad news.”

Her eyes close. “It’s all over my hair, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Her throat works as she swallows, and her lower lip trembles slightly.

Aw, hell.

Her eyes still closed, she whispers, “Alex?”

“Yeah?”

She sniffles. “It’s in my underwear.”

I grab her hand, clasping it in mine. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. Come on. Let’s get you home so you can get cleaned up.”

She pouts, and not the cute pout when she wants to get her way, but the pout of someone who really just wants to make her day disappear. “I don’t want to bike home with cow shit in my underwear.”

“That’s fair,” I say. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Then I’ll just get your car all dirty.”

“Believe me”—I wiggle her hand so her entire arm moves, hoping she’ll open her eyes and shake it off—“I’ve had worse in my car.”

That lip trembles again. Fuuuuuuuuuccccckkkkk.

“Or,” I say. “You can shower up at my house.”

That gets her eyes open. “But my clothes.”

“We’ll wash them.”

She sighs, but they”re clear when she opens her eyes again. Molly wiggles and braces herself against my hand, and Perry and I help her stand. I bend over, looking at her backside, and use the broad side of my hand to knock the worst of the mess off.

“Ew, don’t touch that! You’re getting all dirty.”

“Molly,” I say as patiently as I can. “I’ve had my arm up a cow’s ass today. I can handle a little more shit. See if you can shake out your hair a little.” I was wearing a glove, obviously, but I don’t mention that.

Molly grimaces but does some magic to release her hair from her bun to shake it out. It’s not much help, truth be told, but she stands a little straighter, so at least it got better in her mind.

We bid Perry goodbye. He gets back to work welding, trying to finish the job before he goes home, and with my hand under Molly’s elbow, I help her climb back up the hill toward my house.

At my back porch, Trixie greets us, her sniffer going wild, her tail even wilder. Molly and I toe off our shoes in the mudroom.

Molly stands, arms slightly held out, and looks around. “Should I just strip here so I don’t track shit throughout your house?”

I grunt. “No. You’re not leaving a trail behind, so I think it’s best if you just go directly into the shower.” I lead the way through my bedroom and into the bathroom, grabbing my hamper as I go. “Put your clothes in the basket. Once I hear the water running, I’ll come in and grab the dirty clothes and put some clean ones for you to borrow on the counter.” I wave vaguely at the shower stall. “Help yourself to whatever you want. Towels are in that cabinet there.” I glance at her. “Need anything?”

She shakes her head.

“I’ll be back, and good news: you’ll be feeling a hundred percent better.”