Chapter 6
Chapter Six
NOAH
Molly doesn’t talk as she continues to eat, and although I’m used to the silence, something tells me it’s making her uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because she’s used to being around people in her busy bakery, but I’m mostly alone in my work.
There are times I travel to cities for site visits, but everything can usually be an email instead of an in-person meeting.
When people insist on in-person meetings for everything instead of letting people work remotely, I assume it’s because they are inadequate at their own job and think people can’t do theirs without supervision.
The jobs with managers that force people to be present in an office unnecessarily are the jobs I immediately turn down.
That’s a micromanager waiting to piss me off.
“Is your steak cooked okay?” I ask, and Molly nods. I’d be perfectly happy to sit here and let her quietly eat, but the way she keeps looking at me expectantly tells me a silent dinner is a bad idea. “What’s your favorite color?”
“What?” She looks confused as she holds her fork in front of her mouth, mid-bite.
“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I’m not good at small talk, and I thought it was a neutral question. My next one is what’s your favorite dinosaur, if you want to go ahead and think about your answer. I know it can be a tricky one.”
She blinks at me once, twice, three times before bursting out with laughter. She laughs so hard she has to put her fork down and use her napkin to wipe away a tear in her eye. My scowl deepens, and that seems even funnier to her.
“You were the one that wanted to talk,” I say defensively.
“Did I?” She shrugs a shoulder as she picks up her fork again. “My favorite color is gold.”
“Gold?” I cock my head to the side trying to picture it. “That’s an unusual choice.”
“I don’t know, it’s just always so pretty at Christmas time. And it goes with Christmas colors. Red, green, pink—”
“Pink isn’t a Christmas color.” I don’t mean to cut her off, but she looks at me like I’ve got antlers.
“Yes, it is.”
“I’ll give you gold, but pink?” I shake my head. “No way.”
“You’re wrong,” she says a little more aggressively this time.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I notice that when she gets worked up, she has this habit of scrunching her nose. It’s so fucking cute, and maybe that’s why I keep trying to poke at her.
“Prove it,” I say, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
“Easy.” When she’s smug, she pushes her lips out like they need to be kissed, and I have to force myself to look away. “It’s in the movie The Grinch.”
“I’ve never seen it,” I tell her as I cut off the last piece of my steak and pop it into my mouth.
Molly’s silent for so long that when I look up at her, I think she might be frozen in place. “You’ve never”—she blinks like she’s saying a new word she’s never heard before—“seen The Grinch?”
“No.” I shrug again like it’s not a big deal, but I’m starting to think it is.
“All right, so in order for me to win this, you have to watch it.” She puts her fork down, and I see that there’s only maybe a bite or two left on her plate, but she leans back in her chair, obviously full.
“Can’t,” I tell her as I reach out and grab her plate. “There’s no television here.”
“What about your phone?” She watches me carry our dishes to the sink, where I start washing them.
“The reception here is terrible. I tried to watch a game last night, and it kept cutting out. It’s probably why Kim never bothered getting a TV here. Although there are a ton of books.”
“Yeah, she usually gives me great recommendations when she comes to the shop. Even though she knows I don’t like horror, she will tell me when she’s read a new romance she likes.”
“You read romance?” This time when I look over my shoulder at her, I see her cheeks flush. I’m not sure if she’s embarrassed to tell me or that she didn’t realize what she was saying.
“Yes.” She raises her chin stubbornly like I’m going to make fun of her.
“Then you should look at the bottom shelf over there,” I say, nodding to the far wall in the living room. “Kim organizes them based on genre.”
“Oh.”
Her posture deflates like she was gearing up for a fight only to realize I wasn’t going to give her one. Well, at least not on that. She looks in the living room like she’s trying to see what kind of books Kim has but then shakes her head.
“Don’t change the subject. You said pink isn’t a Christmas color, and I’m going to prove you wrong.”
Something about her mission to do this makes me grin as I turn my attention back to the dishes. “All right, if you can prove it, I’ll owe you another dinner.”
Molly goes quiet for a long second, and I wonder if she’s weighing her options on being with me a second night or not.
“Deal, but you should know that this is a foregone conclusion, so there’s no need to come up with something if I should fail my mission.”
“I like your confidence.” I rinse my hands off and grab the towel. “So how are you going to prove it?”
“I guess you’ll have to come to my place.” She gets up and goes to the living room, and I watch as she scans the romance shelf. “You can come over after I get off work tomorrow,” she says and then grabs a book. “And you can have this back then too.”
She shoves the book in her bag like she’s trying to hide the title, but I know which one that is. It’s about a pirate stealing the bride on her wedding day. It’s one of the dirtier books on Kim’s shelf, and I wonder if Molly knows that.
“You’ll be able to finish it by then?” I ask, and she nods. “Well, since you seem so sure, is there anything special you’d like me to cook?”
My heart sinks as she reaches for her coat, but it’s not like she was planning on staying the night. Maybe in my fantasies that’s what would have happened, but knowing I get to see her again tomorrow has definitely lightened my mood.
“Something with pasta,” she says, and I nod. “Thanks again for dinner tonight. It was amazing.”
“I’m sorry again about...” I let the sentence trail off, and she nods.
“Enjoy the cake.”
I walk her to the front door, and when she looks back at me before stepping off the porch, I have the strongest urge to pull her to me and kiss her. It’s so strong I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from grabbing her.
“Be careful,” I tell her when she gets to the bottom of the stairs, but I’m trying so hard to hold myself back that it sounds like a threat.
She lets out a small laugh as she turns back to me and waves. “See you tomorrow, Grinch.”
“Grinch?”
She winks at me before she gets in her car, and I’ve got that pain in my chest again. As I go back inside, I remind myself that I really need to get that checked out.
When I’m finished cleaning the kitchen and I sit down at the bar, I open the cake box and stare down at the most beautiful creation I’ve ever seen. Seeing the words Welcome to Cheerful written in perfect red icing makes me feel like I need to apologize all over again.
Realizing that I might have a way to do that, I send a text to my sister asking for all the information she has on Molly. Maybe there’s a way to convince her that I’m not the Grinch she thinks I am.