Chapter 23
GAVIN
Gavin was quickly realizing that Molly was a complicated woman filled with surprises.
For example, she didn’t mind making a lot of noise during sex and she snuggled up afterward. The snuggling was a total surprise to him. Unexpected.
The noise? Not so much a surprise. He figured she’d have lots to say when they were together like this. He just… well, he thought…
“I figured you’d talk more,” he said, because he had thought she’d be a talker. Figured she’d be pretty bossy in the bedroom.
Not that he was disappointed. He liked to take the lead.
Preferred it, actually.
So, no, he wasn’t disappointed in the least. That was the least appropriate word for how he felt. She was gorgeous, and she was oddly timid.
She did make a good deal of noise. But she didn’t talk.
“Why would you figure that?” She lifted up on her arm, dropping loads of those hair pin things women used in their hair for big black tie events.
“Because you usually talk,” he said, pulling out a pin or two that hung free and dropping them on the nightstand.
“You did your job, and I didn’t have any brain cells left to devote to speech. They were all busy with the whole…” She raised her eyebrows. “You know. You were there.”
Oh, yes, he knew. He was very grateful to have been there.
“You never cease to surprise me, Miss Molly.” He couldn’t seem to get enough of kissing her, so he decided to just do it when the need struck.
Like now.
She reciprocated with a good deal of noises. Again, no talking, but lots of moans. A few groans. And a few noises he couldn’t quite describe. But, make no mistake, they were good noises.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, pulling back. “Can I get you anything?”
“Any other questions?” she asked, light. Persona-Molly and his Molly all tied up in a pretty bow.
“Are you good staying tonight?” That was his only other question.
“No, I’m not hungry,” she said, sitting up and apparently
realizing that she was dropping bobby pins from her hair because she began collecting them. “A toothbrush. And I’m good with staying, if you are.”
He helped her with the pins, amazed at how the curls sprang free once they released their hold. How many of these damn things did it take? He practically had a whole fist full, and they were still coming loose.
She reached for his wrist, holding it still. “You should let me do that. I don’t want to scare you once the beast is unleashed.”
“The beast?” He was fairly certain all the beasts between them were romping free in the proverbial meadow at this point.
“My hair.” She snatched the pins from his grip. “I like your hair.” He did. “Quite a lot, actually.”
“That’s only because you haven’t seen it at its worst.” She pulled her face into an expression of horror. “You have no idea.”
He was pretty certain he wouldn’t mind. But her curls were fun and free—like Molly herself.
“I guess I’ll have to take your word on that,” he said, instead of anything he really wanted to say.
“Yup.” She reached for his button-up shirt, pulling it on and doing up the buttons. A total shame if you asked him.
“A toothbrush?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He grabbed his boxers and pulled them on. “I have an extra.”
He kept extras of all the necessities in case the boys needed something between their mom’s house and his.
“You’re very prepared.” She followed him to his en suite bathroom.
He pulled open a drawer and emerged with a brand-new toothbrush, still in the packaging. “Maybe I just hoped you’d say yes when I asked you to come over. Good incentive and all that.”
“This is supposed to be awkward.” She tapped the package against her palm. “Why isn’t it awkward?”
Because there was something here between them, something he hadn’t realized was even a possibility. “Because I’m not actually a monster who eats kittens for breakfast?”
“Of course you don’t. You eat toaster tarts.”
“Indeed, I do.” He handed over a tube of toothpaste. “Would you like some?”
“I could really go for one of the apple cinnamon kind.
With the glaze, not the frosting.”
He leaned against the doorframe, watching as she moved around his home as though she totally belonged there. “Is that so?”
“You don’t happen to have one, do you?”
He did. The boys also loved that kind, so he kept them on hand.
“Let me see what I can find,” he said, instead of readily admitting he kept an entire case in the garage.
“If you don’t have those, I also like the blueberry ones with sprinkles.”
Now, those…those were his favorite.
“Anything else?” he asked, enjoying having her in his home. In his space. In his life.
“Sometimes, if I’m in the right mood, I enjoy the s’more kind. But that’s not really a breakfast food. That’s more of a dessert.”
No. Those were specifically marketed as a breakfast item. “I’m not sure I agree with that.”
“I know.” She held up her hands. “It’s not on-brand. But I’ve even had them with ice cream and that is a true treat.”
He kicked off from the doorframe, ready to go grab the apple cinnamon. He’d save the blueberry for breakfast with the waffles he’d promised. “I’m a little in shock that you like my toaster tarts.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Well, if he had his way, they would. “Molly?”
“What?”
He needed to say this. Needed to get it out there. “I like you.”
She paused, loading the toothbrush with the paste. She turned. Gave him a full glance—up, then down. “Well, you’re growing on me, too.”
“Why do you sound so unhappy about that?” he asked.
She sighed, bit at her lip. “Because I don’t know what to do with it.”
Oh, well, then he’d just have to show her.
* * *
Molly had sex with Gavin.
Technically, if she wanted to get precise about it, she’d had sex multiple times with Gavin.
She buried her head in the pillow before mentally kicking herself for shirking her responsibilities as a mother and not stressing about what her son was doing every moment they were apart.
She’d left her phone on all night, just in case, but she still rose from the bed, pulled a blanket to her chest and tiptoed to find her purse in the mess of clothes on the floor.
“Molly?” Gavin asked, his voice sleepy. He lifted his head from the bed, rumpled and yummy even first thing in the morning, which was totally unacceptable.
“I’m checking on Ollie,” she said. Also, she’d take a teensy-tiny peek at her latest contest standings. “Go back to sleep.”
“Is he okay?” Gavin sat up, the sheet falling to his waist and exposing a swath of abdominal muscles that a man who was a dad and who wasn’t Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson had no business having.
She did a quick check, and there were no emergency messages. She sent a quick good morning to him and waited for the reply.
It came within moments.
He was fine. Having Captain Crunch with his buddy and getting all sugared up before coming home later.
“He’s okay.” She smiled at the screen, tapped out a motherly, eat-a-vegetable-or-something-healthy message before sliding right on over to check her standing.
She growled. Still second. Ugh. She should’ve done two videos with the hair and makeup. Probably should’ve had Gavin join her, too.
She tucked the phone back in her purse.
Gavin was still sitting up in bed, his heavy-lidded gaze pinned to her.
“Are you coming back?” he asked, the timber of his voice low and rumbly and really yummy.
Then it hit her.
She was morning-haired Molly.
Oh God. She was morning-haired Molly. No one needed to see that.
“Don’t look at me,” she said, digging through her purse and grabbing an elastic band to pull it back and at least try to tame it.
“Why can’t I look at you?” Gavin still looked at her.
Though, he wasn’t screaming and running away and he wasn’t tossing her out on her ass, so there was that.
“Because I’m morning Molly,” she hissed, still wrangling with the elastic band.
Gavin started to stand, eyes still wide open. “That makes no sense. Can we wait until later for you to start not making sense?”
“No. And, for real, close your eyes. My hair is a wreck.”
Gavin did not keep his eyes closed, he very much kept his gaze locked with hers. He also did an obvious scan of her sheet-covered body.
“Don’t mind the hair,” he said, lazy and loose. “But I could definitely go with losing the sheet.”
She made a sound like a cross between a squawk and
blurgh. “Stop looking!”
He turned his head toward the door to the hall and flung off the blankets. “I promise I won’t look at your hair.”
“Thank you.” She got the band in place. A few minutes with a mirror and she would be at least somewhat presentable.
She didn’t get the chance to pull out her compact mirror because Gavin was moving in her direction.
Heads up, he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. That didn’t stop him from stalking toward her, still not looking at her but some spot just behind her right ear.
The stalking thing? Pretty sexy. The look in his eyes? A little scary.
“Are you regretting what happened last night?” he asked, still moving closer. Still not actually looking at her again. Still not minding at all that he wasn’t wearing clothes.
Then again, if she was a guy and she had his body, she would probably show it off, too.
“No.” She held her purse close to her chest. “Of course not.”
How could she regret it? What had happened between them was one of those chemistry lessons she’d always talked about on her web show, but never actually got to experience.
“Do you?” she asked, wary that maybe she’d totally misread the whole situation. “Regret it?”
“No.” He met her gaze then, stripping everything but the sheet from her.
“You’re looking at me,” she whispered.
“Not at your hair.” The wry smile he gave her soaked clear through with a charisma she hadn’t thought possible with Gavin.
On top of that? He let that Southern accent he kept tucked tidily away most of the time spill out with the words.
Not full on, but like a dash of salt in a caramel candy.
Enough that she really liked it, but not so much it felt forced.
“Good morning, Molly,” he said. “Good morning, Gavin.”