Chapter 9
MOLLY
Molly plopped her tush right next to Gavin in the auditorium of the movie theater.
Mm-hm, that’s pretty much how the day had gone.
So much for the best laid plans, because this day had not adhered to any type of plan. Except her car was ready on schedule. That part was fine. Everything else? Pretty much nope. Now it was all buttered popcorn, chocolate-covered raisins, and sour gummy worms.
To be clear, she wasn’t at the theater with Gavin—even though she was sitting next to him. Nuh-uh, she was there
as a chaperone-observer for Agnes and Charlie’s deep dive into matchmaking mania.
The basic rundown of how the day had gone could be condensed easily. Charlie was more than onboard with Agnes’s matchmaking scheme. Molly submitted their story, and as part of her video log, she needed to observe them on a date.
They’d decided to go to a movie.
Bummer for her? Their movie was packed. So, they ducked into the next theater over: a pretty much empty theater. The same theater as the kids.
And since Gavin sat alone in the back so the eight-year-olds could have the freedom to watch a movie without their parent sitting right next to them, Molly found herself reclined with a box of Raisinets and her new buddy.
That’s the only reason she sat next to him in Denver’s comfiest movie theater.
Oh, no, no, no, she couldn’t be uncomfortable with her slide into all things Gavin.
Because this wasn’t one of the normal theaters with smooshed personal space and stadium seating.
No, this was a plush theater with pleather recliners, two cup holders per person, and lotsa leg room.
Also, an abundance of space between guests.
Which was good because…Gavin.
The worst part of it all? She didn’t hate it. The sitting next to him part, or the recliner, or watching Agnes and Charlie canoodle across the theater.
They’d lifted the recliner arm rest between them for maximum cuddleage. Four rows in front of them? The three boys had also lifted their arm rests so they could share the massive bucket of popcorn Gavin bought them.
Gavin, whose woodsy cologne mixed with the scent of buttered popcorn and industrial floor cleaner.
Ugh. She dropped back against the pleather chair. She should hate this situation. That’s what should be happening.
But he was being. Wait for it… Charming.
Like his brothers.
She was beginning to really hate that she liked Gavin Frank.
Who was this person who had taken over his body? That’s what she wanted to know. While she’d never believed in alien abductions or been one for conspiracy theories, perhaps she should start subscribing to them.
He’d even bought her the chocolate-covered raisins when Ollie mentioned they were her movie theater favorite. Well, next to bridge mix. But they didn’t have a full bridge mix at most theaters, only some. And when they did? It was a very special day indeed.
But that wasn’t today. Today was the day when nothing was as it should be, since Gavin got a whole additional point for the candy purchase. He was up to…a million plus six? Seven? She needed to do a recount.
It didn’t really matter anyway, though, because while Gavin was there for the kids, she was there not to supervise the children but to supervise and report back on the elderly.
“Why isn’t anyone else here?” The only other people in the theater were Agnes and Charlie and the three kids.
“No idea.” Gavin tossed a kernel of popcorn, deftly catching it in his mouth.
Impressive. But she refused to be wowed. No wowing allowed. Besides, she wasn’t even going to attempt that
with her chocolate-covered raisins. She’s probably end up choking, and it’d be a whole thing.
“It doesn’t bode well for the movie that no one wants to see it,” Molly said, looking to the door. But no one came through.
“So it’s just us,” Gavin said. “We can be as loud as we want.”
Uh.
He probably didn’t mean for that to sound like an innuendo. She certainly shouldn’t take it like an innuendo.
“Who would’ve thought we’d find ourselves here?” he asked.
“On a scale of one to one thousand?” Molly said. “I’d say well into the million category.”
“At least now I won’t be lying when I tell my mom I sat with a pretty lady tonight.” Gavin gave her a soft look that made her seriously consider raising the arm rest.
Okay. First. Whoa, whoa, whoa. “We aren’t sitting together.”
“We aren’t?”
“We are sitting next to each other, yes.” Molly pulled at a thread from the small supposed-to-be-there tear in her jeans. “But not like that.”
“I can twist the truth a little.” Gavin waggled his brows. “Mom doesn’t need to know.”
“Why are you lying to her in the first place?” Molly scowled. He shouldn’t lie to his mother. As a mother herself, she was required to be patently against this type of thing.
“Because now that Travis and Rachel are officially married, my mother has nothing to do or plan.” Gavin rolled his lips together. “So she’s off to find me a wife.”
“And you don’t want a wife?” Molly asked, careful not to tread into Dakota off-limits territory.
“No.” Gavin shook his head. “I was serious when I said I’m on a break from everything relationships.”
“Then just tell your mom that.” It’d be easier than lying to her and wouldn’t be so messy.
“Have you met my mother?” Gavin asked, and he turned just slightly so she got a good solid sniff of him. Not his cologne. Him. Gavin. And he smelled amazing.
“I like your mom.” She held her breath, breathing only through her mouth.
“My mother is persistent.” His chiseled jaw clamped together like this was a bad thing. “She doesn’t take no for an answer.”
Molly had heard all about Evelyn’s unwillingness to hear that particular word. Rachel talked about it often—especially during the wedding planning shebang.
“So you’re buying time by reading a novel at a coffee shop and telling her you sat next to me?” Molly asked. She could really give him some better tips for fake dating than that.
He nodded. “So far, she’s let it go since I’m”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“trying.”
“But you’re not actually trying?” He shook his head. “Nope.”
Here’s the thing, Molly actually understood Evelyn on some level. So she understood that Evelyn was likely appeasing her son for now, but it wouldn’t last.
“How long do you think you have before she calls you out?” Molly blinked as innocently as she could.
“I’m on borrowed time.” Gavin smirked and lowered
his voice as he said, “But I’ll take all I can get.”
Her stomach did not flutter. It didn’t. That’s all she had to say about that.
“Do you think we should tell them to keep their hands to themselves?” he asked.
She looked over the rows to the boys.
“Not the boys.” Gavin gave a pointed glance to her elderly who were, in fact, getting a tad handsy.
Oh, dear God.
Molly closed her eyes and pressed her palm between her eyebrows.
“Agnes,” she said, loudly. “How’s the date going?”
“Oh, fine.” Agnes said, cheery as all get-out. “We’re
having a wonderful time.”
Judging by the level of handsy-ness, she was telling the truth.
“There are others here as well,” Molly said, a little too robotically and through gritted teeth. “Children. Something to remember when you jump back into the dating pool.”
“Smooth,” Gavin said under his breath.
“You wanna try supervising these two?” Molly asked. “No.” He lifted his chin toward the boys. The boys who
were actually sitting still, watching the commercials, and waiting for the movie to start. “I prefer to speak eight-year-olds.”
Ha. Only when they were behaving.
Agnes and Charlie separated enough that Molly wasn’t worried about them getting tossed out.
“You know.” Gavin cleared his throat.
Molly gnawed at a chocolate-covered raisin. She had a fairly involved system for eating them. First, she ate off all
the chocolate coating. Then, and only then, did she bite into the raisin itself. Then start again with a fresh one.
This was, of course, the only reasonable way to eat them. When Gavin didn’t continue, she asked, “I know what?”
“I like to think—” he started, then stopped. Was he
frustrated with himself? Probably. She often knew that feeling since she had spent a great deal of time as an adult frustrated with him on Rachel’s behalf.
“I like to think, too,” she said, going after another raisin. “I’m trying to say something here…”
She made a go ahead motion. “I’m trying to listen, but you keep stopping.”
He didn’t speak for a long beat. But she didn’t interrupt since he was, apparently, trying to say something.
“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he said, finally.
Oh. She paused her gnawing at the chocolate. He thought that she thought he was a monster? And he was calling her out on it?
Molly popped the rest of the candy she’d been working on into her mouth, totally wrecking the magic of eating chocolate-covered raisins.
She did, however, keep her focus on the screen where the pre-show played and a dancing soda did a samba with a box of popcorn, unwilling to have this conversation face-to-face.
She chewed. She swallowed. She had to say something—“I don’t think you’re a monster,” she said, slowly.
At least, not much these days. Honestly? She was very conflicted over the whole thing.
“Molly.” Gavin’s smooth baritone invaded her space. “We both know I’m not your favorite person.”
She lifted a shoulder. “There are lots of people who
aren’t my favorite people that still aren’t monsters.”
The dancing popcorn hopped on a rollercoaster and turned off its cell phone. She would much rather think about why a bucket of cartoon popcorn would need a cell phone, and what kind of data plan that entailed, but instead she actually looked in his direction.
He pressed his lips together and nodded like he was in some kind of odd agreement with her. And that? That made her heart sore.
Damn.
“Can I ask you something?” She turned and curled her knees up underneath herself.
“Of course.” Gavin offered her the popcorn.