Chapter 15
MOLLY
“Bingo night?” Molly gave Agnes the you-have-lost-your-marbles look. Seemed like she did that a lot lately. “You brought us to bingo night?”
“I did.” Agnes reached for Charlie’s hand as they strode along the sidewalk in front of Bernie’s Bingo on Wadsworth Avenue.
“I’ve never been to a bingo parlor.” Gavin did not reach for Molly’s hand. Though, she didn’t reach for him either. And, really, she wasn’t sure how to initiate touch with him. Obviously, she knew how to touch somebody but…not him. Except when he’d done the practice touch thing at
Rachel’s house.
They’d probably need to figure out the actual rules
of touch if they wanted to convince Evelyn, her fake cat, and the general online population they were the real deal. Contact was expected.
Which meant he was on the right track and they really should practice.
Now. They should practice now.
“Do you want to hold my hand?” Molly asked, out of the corner of her mouth. “I know, it’s probably sweaty. But I promise I don’t have cooties.” Sarcasm for the win.
“Sure.” Gavin held his palm out for her. “I don’t have cooties either.”
“Excellent. Cootie free zone.” She should take his hand.
This was the part where she took it.
Her mind willed her hand to reach back for him, but suddenly the air felt like concrete, and no matter how hard she willed her muscles to move, they didn’t.
Grr. It’s not like they were going to make out in the bathroom. This was just a hand hold, nothing intimate or special. Besides, his hands were probably sweaty.
Sweaty palms would make this whole thing easier. Also, harder. Because, ew.
But mostly easier because she didn’t really care for sweaty hands on a man. Therefore, she wouldn’t find Gavin any more attractive than the next guy.
Sweat when a muscled man worked out at the gym or went for a jog? Totally fine. Sweat when chopping wood? Definitely hot.
Truth was, she sort of had a thing for lumberjacks. Gavin looked pointedly at the hand he still held out.
The hand she’d asked him to hold out.
Right. Right. Right.
She took it.
Not sweaty in the least. In fact, his palm was rough. In a good way. More like oddly arousing.
She figured Gavin was the kind of guy who changed his smoke alarm batteries quarterly and got manicures weekly.
Which she didn’t need to dig too far into.
He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze that felt really freaking nice.
They’d nearly made it to the entrance when Agnes turned around and pointed a finger at Molly. “No fixing him up with anyone else tonight.”
Right. So they were going there.
“I mean it.” Agnes used her no-argument tone. The one she didn’t pull out with Molly very often.
“Why does everyone keep telling you that?” Gavin asked, eyebrows adorably pushed together.
“That will not be a problem.” Molly gave a look to Agnes that she hoped transmitted the ixnay on the sharing. This may officially be her first fake date with Gavin, but that only meant that any desire she had to fix him up with someone else would also have to be fake.
Also, they were at bingo and Molly was nearly certain there wouldn’t be a ton of prospects here for his future Mrs.
Gavin tugged at her hand. She sighed.
“Molly?”
“It’s nothing.” Not anything she wanted to share at the moment, anyway.
“I need to know,” Gavin said, tilting forward so his face was closer to hers. “Is she in cahoots with my mom?”
“Who’s your mama?” Agnes asked.
“Evelyn,” Molly answered for him. “And you don’t know her.”
She was pretty sure.
Instead of doing a thorough analysis into all things Mollyland, she ushered them through the door of the bingo parlor. But she didn’t release his hand. What could she say? She sort of enjoyed holding it.
The enormous room with white walls and commercial carpet held rows and rows of dark brown folding tables with tan metal chairs—the kind that collapsed easily for storage.
The room smelled a little like a hospital corridor or an airport.
On the scale of favorite locations, those were two of Molly’s least favorite.
Peter’s couple was going to watch a jazz concert in City Park. Molly bet that there were funnel cakes there. The bingo place only had a small concessions stand with soda and hot dogs. The hot dogs looked mighty iffy, if she said so herself.
They settled at the table behind Agnes and Charlie, and Molly took careful time arranging her bingo cards on the faux woodgrain surface of the table. She’d gone for a pink dauber. Gavin chose red.
“Did you bring a book?” Molly asked, low.
“No.” He chuckled. “The company tonight is much more interesting than any book.”
“You mean Agnes and Charlie, right?” she said, aiming to keep it light.
“Why do you do that?” he asked as the first numbers came over the intercom.
She took her time daubing the correct boxes. Not so lucky, G-4. She only had a one of that combination. “Do
what?”
“Put yourself down like that?” He took a considerably annoying amount of time marking his own cards.
“I don’t put myself down.”
“You just did.”
“No, I built up Agnes and Charlie.” There was a difference. A minute difference that she felt a little queasy about.
Was she putting herself down? She didn’t think so.
But…
She was essentially cubic zirconia when Gavin usually went for diamonds.
Not that she’d liked Dakota, but the woman was gorgeous and she was successful.
And then there was Rachel. While she and Gavin both said their marriage was a mistake, he’d gone for her at one time.
Rachel was little miss perfect. Molly meant that in the best sense. Rachel was kind and beautiful.
Molly was just…Molly.
The mint garnish on a mojito. Not really needed, but still fun.
“Just so I’m perfectly clear here, I meant you are more interesting than any book I’ve read.” Gavin reached up to scratch at the hairline of his neck, like that little snippet of news made him uncomfortable.
“I’ll help you pick out some better novel selections, then. Next time we go out, let’s hit up The Tattered Cover.”
“See? You did it again.”
Ugh. She sort of had. It really stunk that Gavin was right.
“Molly, hear me when I say that you’re a good reason to
get dressed up and go out.” He doused her with the intensity of his brown eyes, and she didn’t mind at all.
Which was why she totally missed the last letter-number combo.
“You’re distracting me from the game.” She refocused on her cards and the screen at the front of the room that posted the current game pieces.
“Molly, some things are important enough to interrupt bingo for.” He caught up more quickly than she did and leaned back, hands linked behind his head like he was super comfortable here and played the game regularly.
Just like that, she saw Gavin. Really saw him.
Saw him for more than Rachel’s ex, or the guy who jumped in the lake after her kid, or the guy who drove her to the automotive garage when her car choked.
She could see who he would be as an old man.
Still handsome, probably playing bingo, and content with himself and a book… or Molly.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you, babe, for the vote of confidence.”
That got her a wry grin. “Of course…babe.”
B-2 got called, but Charlie’s hand on Agnes’s knee caught Molly’s attention as she dabbed the sheets of thin paper that were her bingo cards.
Charlie, the cad, was totally putting the moves on Agnes.
Was this good because it meant they were moving forward into la-la-love land? Or bad because he might take things further than Agnes was ready for? Or was it really bad because he was only putting on a show and didn’t mean it?
If he didn’t mean it and Agnes thought he did, it would
be a whole thing and Agnes’s heart would get broken and—“Do you see that?” Molly asked softly so only Gavin
could hear.
“The bingo ball?” he whispered back.
“No.” She tilted her head toward Charlie and Agnes. Gavin followed the length of her gaze with his own. “He’s making his move,” she said.
Gavin slung his arm around the back of Molly’s chair like they were actually a couple and were having an intimate conversation.
“Maybe he’s just picking lint from her slacks,” Gavin murmured next to Molly’s ear.
What he said was not sexy. He was talking about lint. But something about the timber of his voice and the proximity of his body and the scent of his cologne mixed with everything else about him had her skin tingling from forehead to toe.
Molly turned her head and, oh, hey, Gavin was so very much right there.
And his arm was still slung over the back of her chair, his hand laid on her shoulder again, and she didn’t feel at all like cubic zirconia. She felt like a sapphire. No. Not that. A diamond.
A rough diamond, for sure, but still a diamond. That feeling? It was…lovely.
Also, uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than searching for both G-6 and N-1 at the same time.
“Agnes’s slacks don’t have lint. She’s a huge advocate of the lint roller,” Molly said, shifting her body forward as though her focus on her cards was absolute. In truth? She did it so his hand slid from her shoulder.
Because the foreign feeling of desire made her edgy and the goosebumps prickle.
“I mentioned to Mom that you and I are seeing each other. She bought it.” Again with the timber of his voice making her all tingly. “She’s going to invite you to the Puffle Yum Foundation Fundraiser. Heads up—I told her I would, but she wanted to make it special for you.”
“Those tickets are like a thousand dollars each.” Molly had never gone because, for one, she had no reason to go. And, two, she did not have a thousand dollars to drop on dinner. Even if it was for a good cause.
That money could go to stunt camp or a new muffler or…escrow on her hopefully new house.
The Puffle Yum Foundation was well-known for giving loads of money to the community organizations and programs that were often hugely underfunded.
She always figured it was the easiest job at the company—and that’s why Gavin chose it.
But now she was starting to realize he actually liked taking care of people.
His job—and his commitment to it—was pretty awesome, actually.
“I guess it’s a good thing you’re not-really-but-kind-of dating the president of the foundation.” Gavin filled in the N-5s on his game piece.
“What if I can’t go?” Molly asked, knowing full well she’d drop everything to go to an event like that.
He hadn’t moved his arm from the back of her chair.
Instead, he just scooted his game cards closer to hers.
“Can you go?” he asked, popping the dauber cap back on.
“I can.” Molly nodded. “But what if I couldn’t?”
“What if you couldn’t?”
“What would you tell your mom?”
“To donate the tickets to one of the staff?” This was a question and a statement all wrapped up in one, and broken in half by a woman in the front row calling out, “Bingo!”
Charlie ripped his cards like they were a voided check that particularly pissed him off. Agnes didn’t seem to mind that she wasn’t the one to score a bingo, as she politely scooted hers into a tidy pile.
Molly collected hers more like Agnes with a small touch of Charlie.
Gavin didn’t touch his cards. Every bit of his focus was on Molly.
“What?” she asked. Did she have something on her face? She wiped at her chin because, to be honest, that wasn’t entirely out of the question. However, she stopped mid-swipe.
The intensity of Gavin’s stare apparently had nothing to do with sauce on her chin. She dropped her hand to her lap, and he tilted his head to the side a bit. Just like that, her nerve endings buzzed to life. Ah, there it was, that lovely discomfort once more.
“If we’re going to be convincing,” he said, slower than entirely necessary, “and if you have nothing better to do or no books to read, we might as well enjoy the overpriced dinner that Eats Grille is catering.” He leaned in closer. Deliciously closer. “I hear it’s going to be top-shelf steak.”
Oh, she just bet Gavin’s meat was top-shelf steak. Ugh. No.
No thoughts of Gavin’s meat. None.
Somebody needed to grab her a Clorox wipe for her brain.
Molly scowled. Not because of the wipe situation. No, mostly because she could get used to this kind of deal—the whole bingo night followed by black tie thing.
“What if I’m a vegetarian and don’t eat meat?” She seriously regretted asking as soon as it slipped from her lips. “Molly?” He sounded like he did when Kellan had stuck the candy up his nose. Tolerant, yet tipping toward not-so-tolerant.
“What?” she asked with what she hoped was pure innocence.
“I’ve literally watched you eat hamburgers—frequently—like it’s your job.”
She blew out a breath between her lips. She loved meat. All kinds of meat. She’d probably even like his… Yeah, still needed that Clorox wipe.
It’d just been a long time since she’d had it.
On that note, he collected his game cards, bought more for them both, and they started all over again.
The bingo gods did not shine on them, but she still considered it a success because she did not once think of someone to set him up with.