Chapter 7
L oud music beat into Polly’s ears, and a bottle of beer cooled her fingers.
“It’s busy,” Raven said, as she sipped her soda water.
Polly nodded. “Trap is always busy.”
Maggie sipped her whiskey sour. “I think it’s because every so often, really drunk locals decide to get up there and sing their lungs out on the karaoke machine.”
Polly nodded. “It’s so bad it’s good.”
Raven laughed. “Well, there won’t be any karaoke for me, but I’m glad I came. Thank you for inviting me. If I’m honest, I almost canceled.”
“Why?” Maggie asked, setting her drink back onto the table.
Raven lifted a shoulder. “I guess because the last few months have been hard, and when things get hard, I’m really good at becoming a hermit.”
“Is everything okay?” Maggie asked before Polly could.
Raven hesitated. “Hopefully. We shouldn’t talk about my problems though. Not after what you went through. How are you doing after everything, Maggie? I wasn’t trying to be nosy, but I overheard a few women at the community center talking about something that happened in the river.”
Polly’s fingers tightened around the bottle.
Because something had happened in the river.
Maggie had been kidnapped and almost killed.
She’d been kidnapped while Polly was with her.
She should have been watching Maggie’s back, but she’d gotten distracted.
Distracted by texts from Joel. She’d never forgive herself for that.
“I’m doing a lot better,” Maggie said gently. “I’m lucky to have Ethan and Polly and all the guys looking out for me.”
A text on Polly’s phone pulled her away from the conversation.
Mom: What do you think of this?
A photo of a white dress came through. A simple silk gown that went down to the floor with thin straps.
Polly: It’s nice.
She set the phone down and took a big gulp of her beer. It was her third and probably wouldn’t be her last. Maggie had driven, and dammit, she was trying to drown things out. The phone. Jenna. Joel.
Beer likely wasn’t the healthiest way to deal with her problems, but hell, it was what she had.
Mom: I found this one for you.
Polly choked on the next sip of beer when she saw the photo. What in the blind-her-eyes was that? It was purple. And feathery. Yes, it actually had feathers on the hem.
Polly: I think a bird died in that.
Mom: It’s designer.
Polly: I love you, but I’m not wearing that. Doesn’t matter if it’s designer or it belonged to the Princess of Wales.
“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked.
Polly turned the phone around and showed both women the dress.
Maggie’s jaw dropped, while Raven just frowned.
“That’s…well…” Maggie cocked her head.
“The ugliest thing you’ve ever seen,” Polly finished. “I know. This has to be punishment for not pretending to like Jonah.”
“Who’s Jonah?” Raven asked.
“My mother’s fiancé and soon-to-be fifth husband.”
“Fifth?”
“Yup. If you ever want a stepdad story, I have one for you. I can tell you about the thermostat tyrant, who made a hobby out of ensuring it was never changed because, and I quote, ‘Money doesn’t grow on trees.’ I can tell you about the outdoor nutjob who made us go on ‘family hikes’ every night and would spend the entire time talking about mental toughness.
Oh, and my favorite—the handyman. He was always ‘fixing’ things that didn’t need fixing, but once he was done with them, they did. ”
Raven cringed. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“Not fun, but I learned a lot. That guys are great for a little while. But once they’re done—and they’ll always be done at some point—they leave.
” Thermostat guy, outdoor enthusiast, Mr. Handyman…
they’d all done their time, then moved on.
“I also learned that marriage and relationships in general benefit one side—the man’s. ”
“This isn’t a new belief of yours though,” Maggie added.
“Of course not. Because historically, men have used women for unpaid domestic labor, emotional caretaking, and sex. I’m not signing up for that.”
“You’ll sign up for kisses though,” Maggie sang.
Polly gasped.
“You kissed someone?” Raven asked.
Polly thought about lying, but she shouldn’t care if others knew what she’d done. She wasn’t ashamed of it. “Joel. He’s one of the guys in our search and rescue team. But it was a one-time thing. I doubt it will happen again.”
“I assume you’ve told him that?” Maggie said from over her glass.
“No. But I have no problem doing so.” To prove her point, she lifted her phone and typed out a text.
Polly: A quick FYI—that kiss should never have happened. And it won’t happen again.
Her finger hovered over the send key. But she hesitated.
Why was she hesitating?
She shouldn’t kiss him again. There was a reason he’d had a string of women in Houston—because he was easy to fall for. She did not want to become one in a long line of women.
She hit send…and for some stupid reason, her belly twisted like she’d just done something she shouldn’t have.
“Done.” She set the phone onto the table and lifted her beer to her lips. Then she made the mistake of glancing around the bar. She choked on her beer before whispering, “No.”
“What—” Maggie started, before obviously seeing what she had. “Oh my gosh, this is my fault. I told Ethan we were coming. But I told him he had to give us at least an hour.”
“Guess the hour’s up,” Raven said quietly.
Joel Dawson. He walked directly toward her. And even though she’d just said that she’d never kiss him again, even though she’d declared it like an oath in front of both women, just the mere sight of him made her want to make a liar out of herself.
Joel’s lips curved at the sight of Polly’s wide eyes.
Yeah, Sunshine, I’m here.
Ethan reached the table first and wrapped his arms around Maggie from behind, while Connor stopped beside Raven.
“Hey.” Joel moved in close enough to Polly to smell that sweet scent of hers.
A cute combination of irritation and shock glazed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He tilted his head, studying her rosy cheeks and the slight slur in her words. “Are you drunk, Polly Mack?”
“No. And you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”
“Am I not supposed to be here?”
“I doubt you can handle the estrogen levels at this table.”
His smile widened. “I can handle more than you think. And I’m actually really in touch with my feelings.” He grabbed her beer and took a sip.
She gasped and yanked it back. “That is not yours.”
“So you’re okay with kissing me, but not sharing a beer?”
Her eyes flared before she set the beer in front of him. “Keep it. I’ll get another.”
Oh, she was not getting away from him that easily. He followed her, not missing her eye roll when she glanced over her shoulder.
“Did you get my text?” she asked, as they stopped at the bar.
“I did.”
“And you agree, right? It was a mistake?”
Did she want him to agree? “I don’t believe in mistakes, Sunshine. Accidents? Sure. Mistakes? Never.”
She frowned like she was trying to make sense of his words. “So our kiss was an accident?”
“Not for me.”
“So you meant to kiss me?”
“Technically, you kissed me. But, yes, I meant to kiss you back. It was one of the most intentional things I’ve ever done.”
Her lips parted and an audible gasp reached his ears.
“And even if I did believe in mistakes,” he continued, “a kiss with you could never be that.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that.” But even as she said the words, her gaze slipped to his mouth, just once, before she glanced back up.
She wanted to kiss him again. He could see it in her eyes. He could just about feel it. And shit, he wanted to kiss her too.
“What can I get you?”
Polly spun toward the bartender. “Hi, uh, a beer please. Doesn’t matter which.”
“Make that two,” Joel added. As the guy grabbed two bottles, Joel leaned down and whispered. “Why does a kiss between us scare you, Sunshine?”
“I never said it did.”
His lips grazed her neck, and she shuddered. “You didn’t have to.” He cocked his head. “Scared to fall in love with me?”
“No. Definitely, definitely not.”
He chuckled.
When they returned to the table, the guys were talking about the team training from the day before, and they settled into the conversation. Over the next hour, Polly received a number of texts, and every time she read one, she got that frustrated frown on her face, then drank from her beer.
The group was talking about how accurate Maureen’s readings were when Polly read what had to be her tenth text before muttering something under her breath and finishing her drink.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Is your mother as annoying as mine? Tell me she is, so I don’t feel so victimized.”
“I guarantee you she’s worse.”
“I doubt that.” She reached over and downed some of his beer. “You know how we’re sold this story that to be happy, we need marriage and kids and the golden retriever inside the white picket fence?”
“I don’t know if that’s?—”
“It is. And my mother takes it way too seriously.”
“But you don’t believe in any of that?”
She snorted, and it was so unflattering, he almost laughed. “What’s there to believe in? Marriage is a lie that women have been sold for generations.”
“A lie?”
“It benefits men, and women just inherit more work. Did you know that marriage was traditionally a property transfer of a woman from her father? We were property .”
“But that’s not the case anymore.”
She inched closer, her cherry scent teasing his nose.
“We’ve been socially conditioned to believe that if we don’t get married, if we don’t have children, we’ve failed.
And my mother—God, my mother —is forever searching for that golden man who will fix everything in her life.
I swear, these guys smell her desperation and think, ‘There’s a heart I can step on. ’”
He slipped a piece of hair behind her ear. “I agree with you.”
She straightened. “You do?”
“Yeah. I’ve never believed in marriage. In my family, marriage isn’t about love—it’s a business transaction.”
“But your family looks so perfect.”
He lifted a brow. “You’ve seen my family?”
She rolled her eyes, but because she was drunk, the action was slow and slightly awkward. “Well, after those girls were talking about the articles, I had to look you up. And boy, did you come off as a player.”
His fingers tightened around his beer. Because, yeah, the media had loved to snap shots of him in Houston.
And during the year he was there, he’d let them.
He’d let them write whatever they’d wanted.
Hell, he’d encouraged it. Anything to get the message across to his parents that he wasn’t for sale. He was living life on his terms.
“I haven’t dated anyone since leaving Houston.”
“Well, that’s because there’s a lack of gorgeous society women in Deep River.”
“Nah, that’s not the reason.”
She studied him, like she was trying to figure out if he was being honest. “What is it then?” He started to answer, but then her palm slammed over his mouth.
“Don’t answer that. If you say what I think you might say, then I’ll catch feelings.
And if you say anything else…” She shook her head. “Don’t answer it.”
Gently, he gripped her wrist and tugged it down. “I think you know the answer.”
Her gaze shifted to his fingers around her wrist, then back to him.
Yeah, she knew. She had to.
He’d been intoxicated with Polly since the day he’d first stepped into Bloom. And she felt it too. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
Maggie touched Polly’s shoulder. “Ready to go? Ethan’s hopping into my car because he came with Joel.”
“I’ll take you home.”
Polly swung her gaze back to him at his statement. “No.”
“Why not?” Then, quieter, he asked, “Scared?”
“Of what?”
He lifted a brow.
She straightened like she was preparing for a challenge. “Fine. I’ll go with you.” She turned to Maggie. “I’ll go with him.”
Connor turned to Raven. “I’ve got my truck here if you need a ride home?”
Pink tinged her cheeks, and she shook her head. “No. It’s okay. I’ve got a ride home. But…thank you.”
Joel set a hand on the small of Polly’s back. “Let’s go.”