7. Molly
7
MOLLY
T oday’s the day. And I hate it.
My heart is heavy as I wake up in Wyatt’s bed. It’s time to go back to my real life and give up the fairy tale I’ve been living for the past ten days. I don’t want to, and now there’s a hole in my chest that makes it hard to breathe.
I lie on my side under the cozy blankets, admiring his handsome face. His breaths are deep and even, and his features are relaxed while he sleeps beside me. I long to brush a few strands of his thick hair off his forehead, to feel his smooth skin beneath my fingertips one more time. I won’t risk waking him, though. That’ll just make things harder.
I slip out of bed, moving slowly and quietly. Knowing that if I stay any longer, I’ll lose my resolve. I gather my clothes and toiletries, placing them in my suitcase while trying not to make a sound. Then I tiptoe out of his room and load my things into my car.
When I walk back inside for one last look, Wyatt strolls toward me, wiping the sleep from his eyes. A lump forms in my throat, but I swallow it down and slap on a fake smile, blinking away my tears. I want to commit this moment to memory, remembering him just like this: rumpled hair, low-slung gray sweatpants, his chiseled body and tanned skin on display. What I’ll remember most, though, is the way he looks at me, like I’m something precious that deserves to be treasured and worshiped. No man—not even James—has ever looked at me like that and I’m not sure anyone else will.
“I’ll make coffee,” he says, pulling me into his embrace and kissing the top of my head.
I tell myself to go, that it’s better to get it over with instead of lingering. But I don’t. I can’t. So I wait for Wyatt to hand me a mug filled with steaming-hot brew made just the way I like it, before following him outside to the front porch. We settle into our usual chairs and sit in silence for a long time, sipping our drinks. I’m not sure how long we’re out here, but it feels like both an eternity and no time at all.
Then Wyatt reaches for my hand and pulls me toward him, guiding me to sit on his lap. He holds me in his arms and rocks us slow and steady, as fresh tears form in my eyes. “I want you to stay, Molly. Don’t go.”
I’m tempted, so damn tempted. But this wasn’t the plan. None of this was the plan. I was supposed to come up here alone to get away for a while. Forget all about my wedding that never happened and my lying, cheating ex. I wasn’t supposed to meet anyone, and I damn sure wasn’t supposed to meet the sexiest, kindest man in the state of Washington.
This is just a fling. That’s all it can be. He said so himself. Maybe not in those words, but he knows I have to go back. I have a job and an apartment, a whole life in Seattle. Wyatt’s made it clear he wants nothing to do with all that. His place is here, on the mountain. I don’t see how we could make this work.
“I… I can’t, Wyatt. I have to go home. I can’t close my business and uproot my life to live in the middle of nowhere.”
His expression falls and his gaze fills with pain, making my heart sink to my stomach.
“I’m sorry. Maybe if things were different, if you didn’t feel like you had to hide away from the world?—”
“I’m not hiding. I’m happy here and I thought you were too.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing. I stand and turn to face him, pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips and holding it for a long moment. “You’re a wonderful man, Wyatt. Don’t ever forget that.”
His eyes beg me to stay, but I ignore them. It’s for the best.
“Thanks for saving me. And I’m not just talking about my ankle.” I rise on the balls of my feet and tug him toward me for one last kiss. Then I reluctantly turn away and get into my car.
As I drive down the rugged mountain side, I refuse to look back, even when my heart shatters into a million broken pieces.
* * *
I’ve been back for five days and I’m already going out of my mind. Has my apartment always felt this cold and empty? Were my neighbors always so loud? When did traffic become such a pain in the ass?
I’d forgotten how boisterous and overwhelming the city can be, especially compared to the quiet of the mountains. No one around for miles. Just you and the occasional wild animal and the serene sounds of the wind in the trees.
I miss it. I miss him.
I didn’t even get his phone number or his last name, convincing myself I didn’t need them and a clean break would be best. I regret that decision, and I want to call him every few hours to see how he’s doing and what he’s up to. I even miss Bear, the fluffy white furball with more energy than an entire class of kindergarteners.
Something’s missing, some vital part of me that can’t be filled. Doesn’t matter that I’ve known him for only a couple of weeks. He made a lasting impression on me, an impression on my heart. He’s changed me, and I can’t go back to the person I was. I was so determined to return to my life in the city. But now, I’m not even sure how to do that. Nothing feels right. It all feels wrong without him.
I’m suffocating. I need to leave.
I grab my keys from the ceramic bowl by the door, then take the elevator down to the garage. There’s one place I can go that always makes me feel better.
My brain is on autopilot as I drive through the heavy traffic to get to Grammy’s house. She’s not expecting me, but her face lights up when she opens the door and sees me standing there.
“Doodlebug, you’re back!” Her matronly smile makes me feel safe as she wraps me in her fragile arms for a bear hug. “I hadn’t heard from you so I thought perhaps you had extended your trip.”
I glance over a shoulder with a sheepish smile as she ushers me into the house.
After my parents died, my grandmother was all I had left, and she gave me a better life than I could’ve imagined. Work has been hectic these last few months, but I need to do a better job of getting by here more often to check on her and make sure she has what she needs.
“Yeah… Sorry about that. I got back a few days ago, but I…” I trail off, not sure how to explain that I’ve been wallowing in self-pity for almost a week. My grandmother, however, is a shrewd woman, and she picks up on my sour mood.
“I knew there was a reason I felt an urge to bake cookies.” She tweaks the tip of my nose before guiding me into the living room. “Have a seat while I go get them.”
I smile as I sit down, breathing in the scent of warm vanilla and brown sugar. I hear the muted bustling of cabinet doors closing and the refrigerator shutting. Then she returns to the living room, setting a tray of fresh chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of cold milk on the coffee table in front of us before joining me on the sofa..
“Now, why the long face? You’re not still thinking about James, are you?” She quirks an eyebrow while her lips pinch together with disdain.
I shake my head. “No, I’ve practically forgotten all about him.”
“That’s my girl. Good riddance.” Grammy places a cookie onto a dessert plate and hands it to me with a napkin.
“I… I met someone, and he’s amazing. But it’ll never work out,” I admit, and my grandmother’s hopeful smile is replaced with a frown.
“Why not?” Her brow wrinkles as she waits out my response.
“His name is Wyatt and he’s strong and rugged and gorgeous.” A lamented sigh escapes my lips.
“Ooh, got yourself a sexy mountain man, huh?”
My gaze is wide as she waggles her thin, graying eyebrows up and down at me. “Grandma Blanche!” I clutch my imaginary pearls before taking a bite of my cookie to buy myself some time.
Damn, that’s a good cookie.
“A new man is fantastic news, isn’t it? So why are you so sure it won’t work out?”
“Because I live here and he lives there.” The excuse sounds flimsy when I say it out loud, but it’s all I’ve got so I’m clinging to it.
“I thought you were only two hours away for vacation. Did you go somewhere else?”
“No, that’s where I was, but it’s too far to commute and it’s a different world up there.”
“He lives on a mountain, honey, not Mars.” She rolls her icy-blue eyes and takes the plate from my hands before eating the rest of my cookie. Guess she thinks I don’t deserve it anymore. “So, this man. What did you say his name was?”
“Wyatt, Grammy. His name is Wyatt.”
“Uh-huh.” She takes another bite. “And he’s gorgeous and wonderful?”
I confirm with a nod, remembering how perfect he is.
“I see. So he’s terrible in bed then. Now it makes sense.” She settles into the cushions and finishes the treat.
“What? No, that’s not what I said!” I’m quick to correct her, because that man is a sex god and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise. He deserves that much.
“Then I don’t understand. Did he not make you happy, Doodlebug?”
I sigh, missing him terribly as I talk about him. “No one has ever made me feel so safe and happy and beautiful. He’s amazing.”
“Then, I’ll ask you again. What’s the problem?” Grammy looks at me as if I sprouted two heads.
“I told you. He lives on the mountain, and I live here.”
She blinks at me for a long time, saying nothing. “Is that all?”
“It’s enough. Our lives are too different and we’re too far apart.”
“Oh, my silly little Doodlebug.” She pinches my cheek harder than I’d like and gives it a healthy shake. She knows I hate it, but it’s a leftover habit from when I was a chubby kid with chipmunk cheeks, as she called them. “You know, they do this thing called remote work now. All the kids do it. It’s the new rage.”
She’s being facetious, but I ignore her sass. “So, I’m supposed to pack up my business and move to the middle of nowhere?”
“Does he not have internet or something? I’m sure you could?—”
“He has everything, even a satellite phone and solar panels,” I mutter, but I know she heard me. “He works from home. Has some kind of tech job.”
“So let me get this straight.” Her gaze narrows as she stares at me. “His home is already equipped with everything you need. You want to be with him and he wants to be with you. He makes you happy and the sex is spectacular.”
“Those weren’t my exact words, but yes. And can you please stop mentioning sex? I don’t wanna talk about that with my grandma.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so fun.” She shoots me a wink before turning her body to face me, and I mirror her position. “Don’t make excuses to avoid being happy, Doodlebug. I know you’ve had your heart broken, but that doesn’t mean Wyatt will do it too. If he’s everything you say he is, then you should go after him. You deserve all the love the world can offer you, honey.” She opens her arms wide and I snuggle into them, listening to the sounds of her steady heartbeat.
“What about you? I can’t leave you here all alone.”
“So you’ll drive down to see me once a week or something. I’m not going anywhere. And I can come to visit you too. Maybe find a hot lumberjack myself.” She tugs a coil of my hair.
I think I just needed someone to tell me it’s okay. That I’m not crazy for wanting this or being scared of getting hurt again. Grammy is right. Wyatt’s nothing like James and he’d never break my heart.
“Do you love this boy?”
I almost laugh at my grandmother calling Wyatt a boy . “Yes,” I confess, wishing I’d told him as much when we were together. Wishing I’d never left at all.
“Then go get your man, Doodlebug. Be happy and be loved. Just don’t forget about the decrepit old lady withering away all alone in this big house.” She lifts the back of her hand to her forehead and sighs dramatically, making me laugh.
“Maybe I’ll put you in a home so I don’t have to worry about you. What’s the nice one called? Shady something or other?”
“Alright, missy. There’ll be no more talk of retirement homes. I can take care of myself just fine.”
I give her a big squeeze. “I know, Grammy. I’m only teasing.”
We visit a while longer, and I cherish my time with the sweetest septuagenarian I know. Then I rush back to my apartment with a new plan forming in my mind.
I race up the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator, but come to a screeching halt when I spot a muscular figure sitting in the hallway by my door.
“Wyatt?” My voice trembles as I take a half-step forward.
His head whips in my direction and he shoots to his feet, dusting off his worn jeans with a few brushes of his big hands. He gives me a wide smile and my heart stutters at the sight. I run and throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and encircling his tapered waist with my thick thighs.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe in his woodsy scent.
“I tried, but I can’t be without you, sweetheart.” His voice is gruff, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’ll live wherever you want. I just need to be with you.”
“I love you!” I blurt out, lifting my head to look into his eyes. “I love you so much.”
Yearning and adoration are reflected in his gaze. “I love you too, Molly. So fucking much.”
“Then take me home. Your home. That’s where I belong.”