Chapter 10 Molly
MOLLY
The next few days go by in a flash as Chase, the kids, and I settle into a rhythm. Things between us still feel awkward, but that’s mostly a me problem.
Even with my best effort to hate him, it’s hard to ignore the fact that this man is quickly becoming someone I both like and rely on. He doesn’t treat me as if I’m lame or worthless or a woman he’d never be interested in. Quite the opposite, actually.
I wish he weren’t so Johnny-on-the-spot helpful and kind. That he didn’t have those intense eyes that bore a hole right through me. Or that almost reluctant smile. Or those muscles that make my mouth go dry every time they tense and flex.
Even Luke is starting to warm up to him—something I didn’t see coming.
Chase doesn’t act like working in the greenhouse, or helping me with planting and harvesting, is a burden.
Or like he’d rather be somewhere else. I spent most of my marriage with a man who—I think—loved me in his own way, but often acted like he wanted to be somewhere else.
The only time Chase shows even a flicker of annoyance is when I make one too many self-deprecating remarks or try to downplay my skill with growing flowers.
My mother-in-law likes to joke about me “playing in the dirt.” Somehow, I’ve internalized her opinion like it’s my own. I’m trying to change my mindset around that. If I’m going to make this business a success, I need to start treating it—and myself—like something worthy of people’s respect.
I don’t take compliments well and tend to brush off the praise I get from both vendors and customers.
Growing flowers is work, but it comes naturally to me.
So while I appreciate the positive feedback, it doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything mind-blowing or special.
It’s not like I’m climbing onto the back of an angry, two-ton animal intent on throwing me to the ground
“Do you need anything else before I head out?”
His voice startles me. I whirl around, nearly jumping out of my skin, and instinctively launch the small hand rake I’d been gripping in his direction. It clatters to the ground at his feet.
Chase arches a brow and bends to pick it up, a slow smile curving his mouth. “I take it that’s a no?”
“I need you to not sneak up on me.” I press a hand to my chest where my heart is still hammering.
He chuckles. “Not sure walking over here from the barn counts as sneaking.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrug, trying to shake off the embarrassment. “Part of what I love about this work is that I can get lost in it. I didn’t hear you. Sorry I freaked out. As usual, I’m the problem.”
Chase tilts his head and studies me in that quiet, unnerving way he has. The one that makes me feel like he sees too much.
“Who hurt you?” he asks softly. And he means it. Not like he’s handing me a line, but like he’s a man who genuinely wants to know. It undoes me in ways I can’t begin to explain.
“No one,” I whisper. “Why would you—”
“Who made you doubt everything good about yourself?” His voice is steady but laced with heat. “Was it Teddy or—”
“I’m not hurt,” I say quickly. “I’m just…me.”
He nods slowly, taking in more than just my words. “It’s time to see yourself differently.”
My lips roll together as my entire body goes taut with awareness. Oh, no. Helpful Chase is one thing. Perceptive Chase? I cannot deal with that right now. Or maybe ever.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly, looking down at my watch when it becomes too much to keep meeting his gaze. “A friend is picking me up in a few minutes. She’s getting married, and we’re going wedding dress shopping.”
He draws in a slow breath. I know he has more to say, but my self-doubt is the last thing I want to discuss with Chase.
“Who’s getting married?” he asks.
“Avah Harris. You probably remember her. Blonde, gorgeous, and beyond confident.” The opposite of me, I don’t add.
Chase shakes his head. “Sort of.” He pauses. “I don’t remember her being especially cordial to anyone outside her inner circle, if you know what I mean.”
“She’s the best friend I’ve ever had, so I reckon she’s plenty cordial.” I roll my eyes. “I haven’t heard anyone use that term since my granddad died.”
Okay, now I’m being snippy for no reason.
Avah is a flat-out bitch and proud of it.
She’d tell you the same thing. She’s like a queen in a castle.
Only a few people make it to the drawbridge, even fewer across the moat and into the courtyard.
And as far as the throne room, she guards access to that like her life depends on it.
I love her like the sister I never had, so I’m not going to let a guy who doesn’t know anything about her or her past talk shit about her. Come to think of it, I don’t know a lot about her past other than she’s an only child and, by her own account, grew up spoiled rotten.
“Cordial is an old-timey word,” Chase says, ignoring my sarcasm. “Got it. I’m sure your friend is great. I wasn’t trying to offend you. I’m glad you have a bestie and a squad, or whatever they call it.”
My mood does a quick one-eighty thanks to his fumbling attempt at girl-speak. I press my lips together to hold back a grin. “A squad?”
I see the tips of his ears turn pink, which is adorable even as it causes certain parts of my body to tingle. Oh, lord. I’m in big trouble if a blush has that effect on me.
He takes a step back and tips his ball cap toward me. “I should be back in about an hour. If there’s anything you need—”
“Where do you go every day at this time?”
Chase blinks like he doesn’t quite understand the question.
I roll my shoulders and command my mouth to remain shut, but the words burst from my lips like a tidal wave. “Are you showering at your girlfriend’s house after…the sex?
He huffs out a laugh, and I clasp my hands over my eyes.
“I didn’t just say that.”
“You absolutely did,” he says, and I hear the smile in his voice.
“I’m begging you to forget that I mentioned the sex and pretend I didn’t just ask about your private life, because it’s none of my business.” I keep my hand over my eyes, refusing to look at him because I might die of embarrassment.
“Molly, I’m not having the sex with anyone.”
Wait a sec. Does his voice sound deeper than normal? Almost husky.
“I shower at a friend’s house,” he continues after clearing his throat. “Every day. Trust me, it’s a good idea.”
I widen my fingers to peek through. “Isn’t there a bathroom in your trailer? You said you live there most of the time.”
“I have a bathroom, but you have no hookup. It’s easier if I—”
“Why don’t you use the bathroom in the house?”
His eyes widen slightly. “I didn’t want to ask. I know you don’t want me here. The less I mess up your routine, the better.”
“But you’re helping me.”
“You’re helping me, too, with—”
“I know. The mysterious debt you owe Linda.”
“I’m here for you,” he says, like his motivation or feelings about who I am don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I try to remind myself that’s true. Chase Calhoun is a means to an end for me.
So what if it’s Chase’s eyes and his muscular arms I think of when I unlock the box in my nightstand drawer where I keep my toys? I doubt I’m the first woman who’s gotten herself off imagining Chase’s hands on her.
“Are you okay?” he asks, snapping me back to the present.
Seriously, someone save me from where and how often my thoughts drift around this man. No wonder he thinks what he does of me.
“You look like my mom does when she’s having one of her power surges.”
“You think I’m having a hot flash?” I grind out the words. “I’m twenty-seven, not forty-seven.”
He makes a face. “I don’t know how it works.”
“I’m not in menopause.”
“Okay, I just—” He holds up his hands like he can’t win for losing. “I just want to make things easier.”
Right now, I feel the opposite of easy, my skin prickling with awareness.
“So try using your muscles more and your mouth less.”
Uh, did that just come out of my mouth?
The air crackles between us. Chase steps close enough that I catch a whiff of sweat, sunshine, and whatever soap he uses. He might need a shower, but he smells delicious.
“You have no idea how good I am with my mouth.”
Cowboy mic drop.
“I’m sure plenty of rodeo queens could fill me in.” I try to sound disinterested instead of insanely jealous. “I’ll take a hard pass on those details.”
He flashes a smile, and as irritated as I am, I find myself smiling, too. Not that I’d admit it to him, but the truth is, I like who I am around Chase. A little bolder. Less my usual mouse-in-the-corner vibe.
“You’re welcome to use the shower in the house, but you’re going to have to navigate around a whole mess of bath toys,” I tell him. “I’m guessing you’re not as uncoordinated as me.”
“Accidents happen,” he says with a shrug. “Trust me, I’ve learned the lesson many times in my career, especially with my last appearance in the ring.”
I also know about bad timing and worse luck, and for some unknown reason I feel the need to connect with Chase in this moment. “I lost my mom to an accidental overdose,” I tell him. “My grandparents died in a car crash. And then Teddy…”
“I’m sorry, Molly.” His voice softens, the teasing gone.
“I don’t know why I just shared that.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Those aren’t the same kind of accidents that—”
“You don’t have to explain. I’ll be quick with the shower and stay out of your way.”
“Take your time. I’ll be gone for a couple of hours. Just plan on doing whatever you need to during school hours, and we’ll figure out a schedule for the weekends.”
“Thanks.” He starts to turn away.
“Hey, Chase?”
He glances back, hand on the doorknob.
“Do you brush your teeth in the RV?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “For the record, it’s the mom in me asking.”
He blinks. “Are you serious?”
“If you don’t have running water…I mean, oral hygiene is important.”
“It sure is.” That lazy smile curves his lips again. “I brush my teeth. Want to smell my breath?”
Yes, my traitorous body practically shouts.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Twice a day, for the record.”
“I’m sure your dentist is impressed.”
“She gave me her phone number along with a new toothbrush last time I was in.”
Of course she did.
“I’ll see you later.” I need to end this conversation before I do something dumb. Like close the distance between us and plaster myself to his hard body.
He tips his cap again and walks away. I don’t think I imagine the faint scent of trouble left in his wake.