Chapter 18 #2
Dakota went where she wanted, and if there was no path, she bulldozed her own.
He’d admired her for that. But then he realized that wasn’t something he wanted in a partner for the rest of his life.
Molly was neither of those things. She had a bit of sweet in her salty, and the ability to go wherever she wanted. But she used caution, and she was about having fun while she made her path. Molly didn’t drive a bulldozer, she started a dance party, so everyone had fun along the way.
“You look like you just saw a ghost,” Molly said, concern clear in the way her eyebrows cramped together.
He ripped his gaze away from the woman.
It wasn’t Cassidy because it couldn’t be Cassidy.
He focused instead on Molly.
He’d always wanted to be part of her dance party. But Molly had never been on his radar. Specifically, off-limits was more accurate. Specifically, set aside from his radar in a no-dance-party zone.
“Thought I saw someone I knew.” He placed Cassidy where she belonged, back in the past, and stared at his present. “Would you like a little something sweet with your tea?”
“Is that a come on?” Molly pulled her lips to the side. “Because I think you can do better than that.”
“I can do better than that. And, no, it’s not a come on.” How long had it been since he’d flirted successfully? A long flipping time, that’s how long. He needed a little touch up in that department. Maybe he should ask Kaiya. She could add it to her emoji lessons.
Unfortunately, Kaiya wasn’t there to ask. Instead, he took a page out of his brother’s book. They’d spent a good portion of their childhood in the southern US and could wield their accents like hot-Southern-guy weapons.
Gavin didn’t pull out his Southern accent often, preferring to blend in with the crowd where he lived in Denver. Still, he said, letting it drawl, “When it’s a come on, you’ll know.”
A little dimple peeked from Molly’s left cheek. He’d never noticed she had that before. But it was subtle, and one had to stand close to her to see it.
“I’d love a scone,” Molly said, eyes twinkling. “Blueberry.”
“Not a cinnamon roll?” He nudged her with his elbow. “They don’t put enough spice in them for me,” Molly
said, deadpan.
The woman at the front of the line made her order and moved to the pickup area of the counter. She turned, and there was no doubt destiny was just fucking with him.
“Americano with sugar. No cream,” the barista called. “For Cassidy.”
“Hey.” Molly nudged him with a huge grin. “That’s your usual order.”
Gavin wasn’t smiling. Not at all. Because it was Cassidy.
Definitely Cassidy.
Why is she in Denver?
“Who is that?” Molly asked, all levity drained from her words.
He didn’t move forward with the line, his eyes stuck on the woman who was not where she should’ve been.
He quickly corrected the mistake of staying put, moved ahead, pulled his gaze away. But all his movements came jerky. Not smooth at all.
“Who?” he asked.
He knew better than to play possum here. But Cassidy was in this room, and he was also here in this room with his brand-new, sort of, maybe girlfriend.
And if there was one thing more uncomfortable than dating the best friend of his ex-wife, it was introducing her to the one who got away.
“Gavin?” Molly pulled her hand from his. He missed it immediately.
She crossed her arms under her breasts.
“Who is she? You might as well just tell me before she sees you.” Molly gave him those big doe eyes again.
“Cassidy, her name is Cassidy.”
“Old girlfriend?” Molly guessed correctly. He was obviously that easy to read. “Or old wish-she-was-your-girlfriend?”
“Uh…” Did he have to actually answer? He didn’t particularly want to answer. Old thought-she-was-the-one girlfriend?
“Oh my gosh.” Molly’s mouth dropped open. “She looks like Dakota.” She side-eyed him. “But that’s not Dakota.”
No, Cassidy was not Dakota. Not at all.
“You sure have a type,” Molly said under her breath. “I don’t have a type.” He didn’t.
“Rachel. Blonde. Curves. Gorgeous.” Molly held up her hand before he could say anything. “Dakota. Blonde. Curves. Gorgeous.” Molly counted them off on her fingers. “This woman?”
“Cassidy,” he said, because, well, he was apparently not super smart when surprised.
“Cassidy?” The blinds shuttered over any hope in Molly’s eyes. “Blonde. Curves. Gorgeous.”
Her neck flushed red. He didn’t like that at all.
Didn’t like the way she shut down. Didn’t want her to shut down.
He didn’t want Cassidy—that ship had sailed a long time ago.
He and Cassidy had never had the staying power, not the kind that he felt with Molly.
The kind of flare that would build a fire worth keeping.
“I’m here with you,” he said. And he wanted to be here with her. So he said so. “I want to be here with you.” That was the truth.
“Me?” She waved a hand along the side of her body. “Outrageous brown curls. No curves.”
“Gorgeous,” he added, hoping to salvage whatever just
happened between them. “And you definitely have curves.” He was trying not to be a total jerk and look her over to prove his point. “I also really appreciate the curls.”
“Gav?” Cassidy’s voice slipped through his Molly fog.
He hoped he arranged his expression of surprise when he turned to Cassidy, even though what he felt was pure horror that, just as he was making headway with Molly, destiny was giving him a big ol’ thumbs-up emoji. And not in the “sounds good” way.