Chapter 7
SEVEN
MOLLY
Phone pressed to his ear, Bradley darts a glance my way and mouths, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper back, sliding out of the bed. I located the closest piece of clothing, which happens to be one of his flannel shirts. I slip it on over my shoulders.
His green eyes light up as he watches me do up a few of the buttons.
“I’ll go get us some coffee,” I whisper call over my shoulder, giving my hips a little extra shake, as I stride out the door.
He gives a little groan that leaves me giggling as I scoop Pigeon up and carry her to the kitchen to get us all some sustenance.
After he claimed me for a second time last night, Bradley once again helped me give Pigeon her sub-q fluids. She, of course, was beside herself purring and rubbing against him as he made up a second verse for her song.
I swear, my sweet and spicy little girl cat would leave me in an instant if he ever offered to take her home. Not that I blame her. My former nemesis has turned out to be so much more and wonderful than I ever could have imagined.
It’s too early to say I’m in love, of course. But Pigeon and I are definitely smitten kittens. And we both seem to like having him around.
I can only laugh at myself. If you would have told me even one week ago that I’d be taking coffee to this man—or that he’d currently be lounging in my bed—I would have asked what you’ve been smoking.
Nearing the bedroom door, I slow my gait to avoid interrupting his call more than I have. As I do, Bradley’s voice rings through the air.
“The New York travel agent is in town?”
I nearly trip over my own feet and narrowly avoid spilling the coffee. I swear, my heart stops.
“They want to meet with me? But what about Molly?”
My heart starts beating again. Now it’s thunder in my ears. It’s so loud, I can’t make out Bradley’s next words.
No longer caring if I’m interrupting something, I straighten my shoulders and enter my bedroom.
Bradley glances up. His jaw tightens and guilt flashes in his eyes.
“I have to go,” he says. “But I’ll see you then.”
He sets the phone down and accepts the coffee I hand him. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” His voice croaks slightly, which he attempts to mask by swallowing a gulp of the scalding coffee. “It’s nothing.”
My heart sinks to his feet.
It’s nothing. He’s not going to tell me that he’s going behind my back—and breaking our deal—so he can steal the client. And he says it’s nothing.
I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have trusted him. Unshed tears fill my eyes.
Turning on my heel before I can betray the emotions churning inside of me, I clear my throat.
“You know, I actually have some work I should be doing.” I slam my coffee mug down on the dresser and rip off his flannel shirt and toss it over my shoulder at him. I don’t want it, or anything that smells like him, remotely close to me at this moment.
“I actually have a meeting to get to myself.”
Behind my back, I can hear the bed creak as he gets out. I keep my attention focused on picking out fresh underwear and a top from my drawers while he presumably gets dressed.
I can feel his presence before he presses a kiss to my nape. My shoulders freeze, but I stay resolute.
“Sorry to run out so fast,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist to give me a squeeze. “I’ll see you later?”
I make a non-committal noise and continue dressing as if my life depends on it.
He plants another kiss on top of my head before leaving. I wait until I hear him bid Pigeon good-bye and for the door to close. Blindly tugging a shirt on over my head, I reach for my phone and pull up my last call.
Angela takes one look at my face over the phone. “Oh, no! What happened?”
“Oh, Ange.” A hot, fat tear slips down my cheek. “I’m such a freaking idiot.”
Twenty-four hours later, I’m curled up on my couch. Though Angela offered me support the way only a best friend can, I’m wallowing. It’s a good thing business is slower this time of year. I’d hate for my current state of misery to affect my work.
It’s good that I can take this time to curl up with Pigeon and binge-watch trashy reality TV. I did manage to stir long enough to do her fluids and refill the food bowl. Otherwise I’ve been rotting.
So much for the notion of “New Year, New Me.”
Not that it matters. I was only doing it for one reason. And that reason fucked me and then fucked me over.
I missed a few texts and calls from he-who-shall-not-be-named. No doubt he wanted to gloat. Or, worse, to pretend that he hadn’t betrayed me.
Someday, I’ll confront him. I’ll call him out on his bullshit. But not yet. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he broke me for even one second.
I let my phone’s battery drain instead of calling him back.
Oblivious to the time, I’m watching two women drunkenly scream at each other on TV when there’s a knock at my door. Pigeon perks up.
“Just ignore it.” I scratch behind her ears and press a kiss to her soft furry head. “Whoever it is, they’ll go away.”
There’s another knock. Despite my protest, Pigeon slips out of my arms and trots across the living room to scratch at the door.
“Molly!” Bradley’s voice calls out from the other side. “Molly, open the damn door.”
Pigeon mews and looks at me pitifully over her shoulder.
Her clear admiration snaps something inside of me. How dare he. How dare Bradley come into our perfectly content life and turn both of us inside out!
Indignant, I push myself up from the couch and stalk across the room. I throw the front door open, ready to give the man a piece of my mind.
“Thank God.” Bradley pulls me into his arms and squeezes me tightly. “You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. Then you didn’t show up at the gym.” He gives me another hug—so tight I can barely breathe—then pulls back to look down at me. “What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
His brow knits together. “What do you mean?”
Despite my best attempts to keep it together, my bottom lip quivers. “How did your meeting go with the travel agent?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t meet with the agent.”
“Don’t lie to me. I heard the call.”
“You heard…” Understanding dawns on his face. “The call from the mayor’s office. Oh, baby.”
“Don’t ‘oh, baby’ me. Did you or did you not get asked to go behind my back to meet with our prospective client?”
“Yes and no.” Tightening his hold on me when I try to pull away, Bradley forces me to look at him. “The New York agent did contact the mayor’s office and requested to meet me yesterday. They said something about how they would feel more comfortable working with another man.”
My jaw falls open. “What?”
“I told them to fuck off.”
“You did?”
“Of course, I did.” He cups my cheek. “I promised I’d never hurt you. Do you think I’d break that promise? You’re my woman.”
I clench my eyes shut. “I’m so stupid.”
“Not stupid, just a little quick to the draw sometimes.” He gives me a quick kiss. “Besides, everyone knows you’re one of the best in the business. I’d be an idiot to screw you over.”
My throat swells with emotion. “I’m only one of the best.”
“Well, I’m the other best. We keep good company.”
“That we do.” I laugh lightly and cup his face, stroking his beard. “I’m sorry I doubted you for a moment.”
“I won’t lie and say it’s okay. Because it’s not.” He gives me a gentle squeeze. “But it’s still early days for us. I guess I need to keep proving that I’m someone you can depend on.”
“You’ve done a good job so far.”
His eyes take on that smolder I’ve come to love so well. He lowers his lips closer to mine. “I can do better.”
Later, after making up in the best way either of us knows, we lie on my bed wrapped up in each other, breathing hard as we catch our breaths.
Bradley’s fingers are wrapped in my hair and he twirls one of the locks around and around his finger. “What should be one of our resolutions next year?”
“Shouldn’t we finish working on the ones we have started for this year first?” I lift my chin to gaze at him. “We’re not even halfway through January.”
“Fair enough. But next year I think we should do things we want to do instead of leaving it to Google.”
“Mmm. That’s a good idea.” I snuggle deeper into his chest. The dark hair smattered across his hard pecs tickles my cheek. “Maybe we could try a dance class.”
“Because we were both so good at it before.” He brushes his lips over the crown of my head. “But if you want to dance, I’ll dance with you.”
“Aww, you’re so good to me.”
“I plan to be.” He strokes my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “That’s going to be one of my resolutions for today and every day: to treat you like the queen you are.”
And then he pushes me on my back and settles his face between my thighs to make good on that promise.
Which he does. Very, very well.