Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PARKER
Breaded chicken cutlets? Check.
Baby smashed potatoes? Check.
Maple-glazed green beans? Check.
Red and white wine? Check and check.
Does she even like wine? Probably something I should know, but I’ll make sure to find out.
Table set? Check.
Sanity? Not even close but I can fake it.
Nerves? Abso-fucking-lutely.
This dinner was going to send me over the edge. It wasn’t just the nerves. It was the fear that Molly was going to come over and change her mind about us. I couldn’t let that happen.
The more time I spent getting used to the idea of marriage, the more I realized I wanted this to work. The connection we’d forged in that bar in Vegas wasn’t like anything I had ever felt before.
For the third time tonight, I considered adding candles to the table. I nixed the idea for the same reason I did the first two times. I didn't want it to look like I was trying too hard even if that was what I was doing.
I was a basket case, and there was no one here to talk me off the ledge. I considered calling Rhett, but the opportunity was taken from me when the sound of the doorbell ringing echoed throughout my home.
Here went nothing.
I took one more deep breath and moved across the open floor layout to the front door. Instinct kicked in, and I checked the security panel before opening the door.
It was almost like I took a round in the vest. Yes, I knew exactly what that felt like, but that was a story for another time.
Air escaped my lungs, and I physically had to take a step back before I fell on my ass.
Molly stood in front of me on the porch in a little black dress that fell midthigh. Black spiked heels and red lips that called to me. She was a siren if I ever saw one.
"Are you going to invite me in or continue to stand there like a guppy fish?"
Was that what I looked like?
Probably. I needed to pick my jaw up off the floor and stop raking my eyes up and down her body.
Clearing my throat, I stepped back and waved her in.
Molly had the audacity to chuckle and bump the underside of my chin with her fist. "Don't worry. I purposely wore this outfit to see what your reaction would be."
Fucking hell. Her statement was effective though. It pulled me out of my stupor as I shut the door and locked it. "So this was some kind of test?" I asked while turning to face her.
Her mocha eyes lured me in. If I wasn't careful, they would lure me straight to my death. "Something like that." I liked the way her lips turned up into a knowing smirk. It was almost as if her amusement depended on my reaction.
"Did I pass?"
Well, now I sounded like an overeager puppy looking for a damn treat while being trained to sit and stay.
"That's still up for debate. I guess we'll see how the rest of the night goes." Without further invitation, Molly strolled away deeper into my house.
I took a moment to scrub my hand along the stubble of my jaw. I had a feeling this night wasn't going to be easy. I already had to wrestle my dick into submission, and Molly had only stepped foot into my space a mere moment ago.
Only when I was sure I had things under control did I finally follow her, but I quickly stopped midstride at the sound of her voice.
"Yeah, this isn't going to work." Molly spun in a circle. Taking in everything at once.
I tried to see things from her eyes to understand what the hell she was talking about but I was at a loss. "What are you talking about?" Did I screw up that badly already? I couldn't see how, but then again, this was new territory for me. Maybe I should've put those damn candles out.
"I'm going to assume you didn't spend all day making this place look this organized and instead you're a neat freak. There isn't even mail on the counter for Christ's sake, and from what I've seen, there isn't an ounce of clutter."
Wait? That's what this is about?
"I take it you have something against my way of living?"
I wouldn't necessarily consider myself a neat freak but more of a minimalist. I didn't need much to survive but that had more to do with being in the Army for so long than anything else.
"My house is what I like to call clean chaos. I don't like living in a dirty house, but I sure enough have a lot of stuff around me."
I shoved my hands in the front pockets of my jeans. "Sorry to disappoint you. Some habits just stick with a person I guess."
I didn't bother to elaborate. I figured she was best friends with Elle, so she had to know a little bit about Army life. I knew for a fact Rhett had been the same way before he met his wife.
Molly sighed. "Rhett said the same thing to Elle at one point. I was secretly hoping you were different in that regard."
My lips turned up on the one side. "Obviously you know he changed, so there's still hope for me." I yanked my hands out of my pockets and pointed to myself.
Molly flashed me a sultry smile. "Maybe you're right." She turned around until she was facing the small dining table I had set up for us. "So what are we having?"
I took that to mean I was in the clear for now. Since I didn't want to give her the opportunity to change her mind, I quickly moved across the kitchen to pull the dishes out of the oven. "Why don't you take a seat, and I'll bring everything over."
"Mmmm. A guy who knows how to take care of a woman. I could get used to that."
I sure as hell was hoping that was the case.
I set my focus on plating the food. Giving me a few extra seconds to gain my composure before I was forced to interact with her again.
Well, forced was the wrong word. I wanted desperately to spend time with Molly, but she threw me for a loop since the second I opened the door, and I needed to get back in control.
Once I felt like I was no longer walking a tightrope, I brought the full plates over to the table. "I know you said you aren't picky, but I hope this is okay. I don't claim to be a gourmet chef, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve."
"Everything looks amazing." Molly met my gaze and smiled.
I returned hers with one of my own. "Do you like red or white wine?"
"I didn't take you for a wine guy?" Her lighthearted question loosened the knot in my stomach.
"I'm not, but I had a feeling you might be."
"You would be correct. I'll take white, please."
"Coming right up." I could count the number of times on one hand that I opened a bottle of wine. I considered it a success when I managed to get the cork out without breaking it or accidentally dropping the bottle.
Molly watched me intently. I desperately wanted to ask her what was going through her mind, but I wasn't sure I was ready to hear whatever she had to say. If there was one thing I learned in our short time together, it was that Molly was brutally honest. The woman had no filter.
"Will you be joining me, or am I drinking alone tonight?"
I moved over to the fridge and pulled out my favorite bottle of beer. "Wine’s not really my thing, but to answer your question, yes, I'll be joining you."
"Good. I would hate for you to think I'm a lush. Although after our first encounter, you might already have that opinion about me."
I took my seat next to her. "I think you forget that you weren't the only one to get blackout drunk that night." I was still trying to figure out how the hell that happened. I knew we had a few shots but I hadn't thought it was that much.
"I guess that makes me feel better."
Molly took one bite of the chicken and moaned. I stopped my fork halfway to my mouth and nearly choked on my spit. The sound shot straight to my cock. I wanted to hear that sound again but this time with her mouth wrapped around my shaft. It killed me that we had sex and I couldn't remember it.
I coughed into my fist. "If you keep making noises like that, I'm going to have a hard time being a gentleman."
The teasing smile on Molly's face was the first indication I was screwed. "And if I don't want you to be a gentleman?"
With my elbows on the table, I hung my head just a little and turned it just enough that I caught her attention.
"As much as I would love to peel that dress off you to see what you're wearing underneath, it’s more important to me that we take things slow and get to know each other because I would very much like to keep you as my wife. "