Chapter 16 #2
He’d gotten to her. And he liked it. He wanted more of it, more of her.
He wasn’t supposed to want more of her. Wasn’t supposed to want to kiss her for real.
A guy on a relationship diet did not fall for his fraudulent—no, wrong F-word—fake girlfriend. Yet, he was sort of mid-fall with no idea what to do about it.
Molly stared at him a solid three beats. Apparently, talk of sausage was what it took to make Persona-Molly get quiet.
Three beats was all he got, though, before she went all in and laid down her cards. “Tell me about your sausage, Gavin?”
Oh, he’d tell her. Dammit, no he wouldn’t.
Relationship diets never involve sausage! “Well, it’s sausage. Pairs well with rice.” She nodded. “Go on.”
“I serve it at night, usually. But sometimes I get a little wild and serve it for lunch.”
Molly licked her lips. “I cannot believe you are going there right now. Your first time on the show, too.”
She gave a sly wink at the camera.
That’s when he realized that relationship diets were highly overrated.
Staying away from Molly? Not worth it.
He’d figure out what to do with that revelation later.
Later, when he was alone with his…sausage.
“Oh, you thought I meant…” Gavin glanced at his lap. “No. Nope. Wouldn’t serve that unless it’s specifically requested. I meant my famous Cajun chicken sausage with rice and creole-style beans.”
Molly blinked hard at him.
“What will you be serving me, Molly? I’m a big fan of dessert.” God help him, he was.
“I just bet you are.” She shook her head. “But we’d eat dinner first. I’d let you choose between my ever-so-famous bacon-wrapped chicken breasts or some deliciously prepared buttered thighs. Would you have a preference?”
“What if I don’t enjoy poultry?” he asked, totally taking a page from her book.
“Then I guess I could make you some cinnamon rolls.
Those are both dessert and a meal.”
“Multi-purpose is a good thing in the kitchen.” Wow, he could really do the innuendo thing. He hadn’t known that about himself before just then.
But this was Molly and, apparently, when they were working together, they had enough fun that they didn’t even hate each other a little.
“I’ve been known to add just a dash of cayenne to my cinnamon roll recipe.” Molly did a shimmy shake that made him anxious to try her cayenne.
“Sounds spicy,” he said.
“It only burns a little. Totally normal. Nothing you’d need to see your doctor about.”
“A unique flavor combination,” Gavin said, unwilling to give up this round to her. “I bet they are moist and delicious.”
They probably should’ve stopped there. It wasn’t like they were actually doing what they’d been brought on to do. Which was, to clarify, to talk about Charlie and Agnes.
They should’ve stopped the camera, submitted the video for consideration, and let it be.
They didn’t.
“Oh my gosh, no. You cannot say that word on my show.” Molly shivered.
Which word did she mean?
“Flavor or combination?” he asked.
“Neither.” She sounded like she’d eaten a cayenne cinnamon roll. “Blah. The M-word.”
“Mom?” Now he was lost on their verbal meander. “Mois—” She ended with a headshake. “I can’t say it.
Don’t you say it either.” She poked him in the chest. “Okay.” He nodded. “But then you can’t say the D-word.
I hate that word.”
“Uh.” Molly choked a little.
“What word are you thinking?” he asked, feigning innocence.
Persona-Molly laugh-snorted. “Uh. Well. What word are you meaning?”
“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She nodded vehemently.
“Dripping.” He shivered. “Hate that word. It means things are about to get sticky or dirty.”
“You don’t like dirty drip—”
“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head. “If I can’t say the M-word, you can’t say the D-word.” He lifted a shoulder.
Molly grinned like he’d never seen before. Actually, Persona-Molly was pretty fun. Too fun.
“Perhaps we should ask Charlie and Agnes what their least favorite words are. Give us a little more insight into them as a couple?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Eyes unnaturally large, Molly nodded. “Because this has given us so much insight into our relationship.”
“Are you going to text them or am I?”
“Agnes doesn’t text. But I can e-mail her?” Molly tapped out a message on her cell.
“Don’t mind us.” Gavin gestured from himself to the camera and back to himself. “We’ll just wait here while you find out.”
Molly filled the silence by singing a little ditty that sounded like game show music but mostly consisted of the words “Insight is good,” while they waited for a response.
He glanced at the laptop camera and said, “I’d bet one of Molly’s spicy cinnamon rolls that Charlie’s least favorite word starts with a B and ends with I-N-G-O.” Look at him, being punny. Dad jokes: always a good filler.
Molly’s phone chimed. She glanced to the screen and said, “Agnes says don’t bother them during her programs.”
“Do you think that’s code for something else?”
“Like the D-word?” Molly asked.
“Don’t even joke about that or I’ll use the M-word.” He had to put his foot down somehow.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Is that a dare?” he asked.
She did the fish thing again before collecting herself back together to say, “Maybe we should call this finished and go have dinner.”
“I’m game.” Gavin stretched his arms like he was a
teenager at a movie theater making the moves on the girl next to him. That girl being Molly. The ultimate M-word.
She scooted closer to him like she actually liked the contact.
“How do you feel about pulled pork for dinner?” she asked.
Funny thing, he liked the contact, too. But for him, it wasn’t for the show.
“Pulled pork?” he asked, like he was thinking a little too hard about it. “When it’s done well, it can be very appealing.”
“I know, right?” Molly nodded enthusiastically. “Do you like to pull your own pork or do you prefer to have a professional do it?” She paused, letting that sentence—a sentence he could’ve lived his whole life without hearing—seep in.
“A professional? What kind of professional pulls my pork for me?” he finally asked because the length of silence got a tad uncomfortable.
“A chef at a restaurant,” she replied as though this were, of course, what she’d meant.
He knew this wasn’t what she’d meant.
Molly had been flirting. With him. And he liked it.
She leaned in, eyes sparkling. Daring him…to what? Continue this verbal sparring that felt a helluva lot like foreplay? Or lean in and claim what he wanted? Claim her mouth. Nudge her lips open with his own and devour.
Just like that, someone flicked an invisible switch inside him and Gavin wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t anymore.
Scratch that. He knew. There was nothing fraudulent
about the way his chest puffed up around Molly. The way his stomach fluttered at her touch. His stomach had never—not once—fluttered in his life. Not like this.
He was going to do it. Relationship diets were temporary anyway. Might as well get back to enjoying buttered thighs without worrying about the calorie count…or something like that. It made sense in his head.
Molly’s lips parted in blatant invitation.
“I think I’m going to kiss you now,” he said.
He swore she said “yes, please” on a breath, but it was said so softly, he couldn’t be sure.
That’s when it smacked him like someone had called out, “Bingo!”
Molly had to choose him. Not because she’d get more votes, but because she wanted him for who he was.
It wasn’t moist or dripping pulled pork. It wasn’t Gavin who had to be ready for this.
He grinned and pulled away. “Maybe we’ll just do that part privately.”
Molly cleared her throat. Went along with it. But the pulse at her neck was thrumming hard against the skin.
This was Molly’s gig. His job—his only job—was to sit back, be there for her, and help her on her way to the right direction.
The right direction being his direction.