Chapter 18
CHASE
“You don’t need to help me,” Molly says the following Saturday as I load the last tub of flowers into the back of the truck. “Iris said Jake’s available for any heavy lifting I need—”
“I can handle your heavy lifting,” I cut in, sharper than I mean. She’s been trying to get rid of me all morning, and I’m damn tired of it.
“It’s the weekend. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than—”
I slam shut the tailgate. “Why are you still doing this?”
The morning sun filters through the cottonwoods lining the driveway, casting dappled shadows across the gravel. The air is warm under a cloudless sky, one of those perfect spring mornings in Colorado. It should be perfect, but all I can focus on is the way she keeps trying to push me away.
She stares at me like she doesn’t understand the question. “Doing what?”
“Refusing to accept help. God rest Teddy’s soul, but I’d like to knock his teeth out right now.”
She hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s not his fault,” she says quietly. “I was pretty much fully formed when I met him.”
“I don’t understand.” I’m angrier than I have a right to be and frustrated that she insists on downplaying her worth at every turn. She’s strong and capable and deserving of every good thing this world has to offer.
“When you grow up feeling like the people who were supposed to love you are only there out of duty, like you’re a burden instead of a blessing, that feeling gets into your bones.”
There’s a hollowness in her voice that burrows into my chest. I want so badly for her to see herself the way I do. “It’s time for a change, Molly.”
“I’m trying,” she says, eyes flashing. “But every time I do, something gets in my way.” She lifts a finger, pointing straight at me. “Someone gets in my way.”
“I’m helping you,” I argue. “Heavy lifting and…” I take a step closer. “Dusting off the cobwebs. Whatever you need.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not a charity case.”
“I know that, but—”
“If you really want to help me…” Molly says, her voice low. “Back out of the deal with my mother-in-law.”
I freeze. It doesn’t sound like a challenge, more like a plea she hadn’t meant to let slip.
“Fine,” I say before I can think better of it.
Her eyes flick to mine. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” I shrug, not wanting her to see the weight behind it. The way I’m already half gone for her and her kids. How the three of them are quickly becoming the family I never knew I was looking for.
“Nothing’s finalized,” I remind her. “Linda knows I’m interested. That’s all. Have you talked to her about your plan?”
Molly looks out toward the gentle slope of the pine forest that borders the property. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“This is her dream trip. The first thing I’ve seen her truly excited about since Teddy died,” she says. “I don’t want to mess it up. Besides, I need to know I can afford it first. That it isn’t just a fantasy.”
“It’s not a fantasy.”
“If she agrees…” Her gaze crashes into mine again, and her expression looks both defiant and vulnerable. The combination steals my breath. “It means you don’t get what you want.”
“But if I don’t step back, you don’t get what you want. So here we are.”
It’s quiet for a second. The air between us is charged, but there’s something more underneath. A thread of connection I still can’t explain, but also won’t try to deny.
“I never wanted this to be a competition,” I tell her. “Not with you.”
“It’s kind of a mess,” she says.
“I like making a mess with you.”
She laughs softly, and the tension between us eases.
“If you talk to Linda and she agrees to sell it to you, I’ll step aside. No hesitation.”
She looks like she wants to argue, but I lift a hand.
“I’m not saying that because I don’t want the land, but I’ll keep looking if I have to. You’ve got kids and a dream. If you can make this happen, you should. I won’t stand in your way.”
She swallows, her eyes shining just a little. “Do you mean that?”
“I do.”
“What if I can’t make it work?”
“Then I buy it,” I say gently.
Her brows knit together. “I’m going to do it.”
“I believe you.” There’s still so much unspoken between us, but right now we’re just two people trying to figure out how to want the best for each other without losing what we want for ourselves.
“What’s your backup plan?”
“I’ll get hired on at a ranch somewhere,” I say like it’s no big deal. “Or go back on the circuit for a year or two until I figure things out.”
“I thought the doctors said you shouldn’t ride again.”
Christ, I regret mentioning that to her in an unguarded middle-of-the-night moment when the darkness made everything feel safe.
“It was a suggestion.”
“It’s too dangerous,” she whispers.
No more dangerous than staying here and falling harder every damn day for a woman I have no right to claim.
“I’ll figure it out.”
She frowns like she wants to argue again, then asks, “You’re truly willing to walk away?”
I want to tell her the truth. That I can’t stop thinking about her. That every part of me wants her to be happy. Sometimes I think I’d burn down everything I’ve built if it means she gets to keep what matters most to her.
“It’s what Teddy would have wanted.”
The light in her eyes dims. The answer was the safest, and clearly the wrong one.
She crosses her arms over her chest, and I try not to notice how the soft cotton of her T-shirt pulls across her gorgeous chest. Or the strand of bright copper hair that’s escaped her ponytail to frame her face.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, even when frustrated and guarded.
It takes everything I have not to reach for her.
“Is that why you had sex with me?”
The question knocks the wind out of my lungs. “Are you fucking joking?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Of course it wasn’t about Teddy. Is that why you slept with me? To scratch some twisted itch for your late husband’s best friend?”
I see the blush spread across her neck and color her cheeks, but she tilts her chin and holds my gaze. “Not my kind of kink.”
“Where the hell is this coming from, Molly?”
Uncertainty flashes in her green eyes. “Nothing has happened since last weekend. Why are you keeping your distance?”
I keep my jaw from hitting the ground, but just barely. “I’m trying to respect you. I don’t want you to think I expect to end up in your bed every time we’re alone.”
She inclines her head like she’s never actually considered that as an option. “Do you want to be in my bed again?”
“Sweetheart, is the Pope Catholic?”
She breathes out a laughs. “Is papal kink your thing?”
I step toward her with a growl. “You’re my thing.” God help us both how much I want her. I want to kiss the laugh off her lips, to feel her come apart in my arms again. To wake up every morning with her warm body pressed against mine.
She glances toward the house. “The kids will be coming out any moment,” she whispers, but she’s already leaning closer. “I can’t let them see me with you.”
Another growl rises up in my throat, but I tamp it down. “I get it.” She wants me, but she’s smart. Smart enough to keep what’s happening between us a secret, which is fine with me.
I almost believe that lie. I do want more, but I’ll take what she’s willing to give.
“Tonight,” I tell her.
“I’m not sure I can arrange sleepovers for the kids.”
“Then we’ll be quiet.”
I see her draw in a shaky breath. “After last time, I don’t know if I can be quiet.”
“Call it a challenge.” I lean in closer. “You up for it?”
She blinks, eyes softening. “Yes.”
I almost kiss her right then and there. But this isn’t permanent, and she’s the one setting the terms.
“Mom,” Laurel calls as the screen door slams. “Can we have money for the crepe stand?”
Molly jerks back as Laurel and Luke barrel toward us. “You bet.”
“Are you sure about staying for the market?” she asks me as the kids pile into the old truck.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
“Not yet, anyway,” she whispers. And just like that, we’re both reminded this has an expiration date.
The weight of those words settles between us as we finish loading the tubs of flowers then head toward town and the first weekend market of the spring season.
The kids are talking a mile a minute, which is a nice distraction, but I won’t lie, part of me wants to skip the farmers market altogether.
Since the accident, I’ve kept my distance from crowded town events.
It’s the easiest way to avoid questions I don’t want to answer.
Maybe it’s time to stop hiding. Being with Molly and the twins, their unbridled excitement over everything from the perfect parking spot to whether Mrs. Henderson will have her famous strawberry jam—it’s infectious.
The back of the truck is loaded with Molly’s arrangements: cheerful daffodils and tulips, fragrant purple hyacinths, and delicate branches of flowering cherry she must have coaxed from somewhere.
The sweet, hopeful scent of spring fills the cab, and for the first time in months, I feel like I’m part of something that adds beauty to the world instead of just taking up space in it.
“Sadie and Piper are volunteering at the Humane Society booth,” Luke says as we pull into one of the vendor parking spaces. “Can I go help with the animals?”
“Sure,” Molly says. “Laurel can go with you.”
“I want to hang out with my friends,” Laurel says quickly.
Molly looks like she’s holding back a frown. “Sure. Luke, maybe you should see if any of your friends are here before you—”
“I want to help with the animals,” he insists.
“Before either of you run off,” I tell the kids. “How about you help your mom and me unload the flowers and set up the booth?”
They two kids stare at me like I just asked them to donate a kidney.
“Mom doesn’t want our help,” Laurel says matter-of-factly.
I glance at Molly.
“That’s not true, sweetie,” she says quickly.
“Last year you told us not to hang around your booth,” Luke adds.
“I…” She shakes her head. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”
“What does oblivated mean?” Luke asks.
Molly ruffles his hair. “It means feeling like you have to help me because I’m your mom.”
“They do have to help you because you’re their mom,” I chime in.
“We want to help you,” Laurel says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because you’re our mom.”
“Not cuz we’re oblijaded,” Luke adds.
Molly blinks like it’s a thought she’s never quite let herself believe.
And I get it. Because when you feel like a burden in your soul, it’s hard to turn that off even with the people closest to you.
“Of course I’d love your help, especially now.
” She rests a hand on Laurel’s shoulder, clearly overwhelmed but smiling.
“But not just because of my ankle. I always want you involved.”
Both kids nod. “We’ll be careful,” Luke says, already bouncing on his toes. “We won’t mess anything up.”
“I have total faith in both of you.” Molly’s expression softens as if she realizes she may have kept her kids at arm’s length for all the wrong reasons.
“Okay then, it’s settled,” I say when she gives me a teary-eyed smile that does funny things to my insides as we step out of the truck. “Do you guys know where your mom’s booth is?”
“Same place as last summer?” Laurel asks.
Molly nods. “End of the second row.”
“Luke, think you can carry this bucket of tulips? It’s heavy.”
“I’m strong,” he says. “Real strong.”
“I know you are.” I pass it to him, then hand Laurel a box of dried flower bundles. “Drop those off and come back for the next load. We’ll get everything set up, and then you can roam the market.”
“Or help me sell flowers,” Molly adds, earning wide grins from her son and daughter.
“I bet I can sell more than you,” Laurel tells Luke as they walk away.
“Well, I bet I can wrap flowers faster than you can,” he shoots back.
Molly watches them go, shaking her head. “Have you ever thought you were doing something right only to find out you’ve been making big, fat mistakes all along?”
I load her cash box, business cards, and spools of twine into the basket on her scooter, then grab two more buckets of tulips before looking at her with a smirk.
“I made a career out of getting on the backs of angry bulls. Every decision I made for about a decade was a calculated risk, if not a flat-out awful idea.”
She rolls her eyes. “When my mom died and I moved in with my grandparents, it was made very clear that I wasn’t wanted.
They’d already raised their kid and weren’t looking to do it again.
So I became useful. I helped on the farm and stayed out of the way.
Never had much of a social life, but I had a roof over my head and a hot meal every night.
When I started this flower business, I didn’t want my kids to feel obligated to carry the load just because I couldn’t. ”
“I don’t think you’re in danger of turning them into indentured servants,” I tell her. “They want to help. You’re not forcing anything. Someday soon, they’ll be way too cool to be seen selling flowers with their mom. Take the labor while it’s still freely given.”
She gives me a sidelong glance. “Like yours?”
“I’m an indentured servant.”
“Stop pretending to be an asshole when we both know you’re not.”
“Wow.” I clasp a hand to my chest. “As compliments go, that was weirdly touching.”
“High praise indeed.” She shakes her head, but there’s a brightness in her eyes that makes them shine like emeralds. “Let’s sell some flowers.”
She looks at me from the corner of her eye, like she’s waiting for the moment I’ll change my mind. Like she’s still bracing for the part where wanting the same thing she does turns us into enemies.
I don’t say what I’m thinking—that I want her dream to come true more than I want my own.
I’m not there yet. Or maybe I am, but I know she isn’t ready for that kind of risk.
Not with someone like me. Someone who’s spent years keeping people at arm’s length because getting close means they can get hurt when the darkness I inherited from my old man decides to surface, like it has before.
She’s already been through enough, and her kids don’t deserve a man who is bound to leave wreckage in his wake.
So I just carry the buckets and walk beside her, hoping she knows I’m not going anywhere.
Not yet, anyway.