Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bobby
My phone buzzes in my back pocket as I pull up to Molly’s house. We’re due at another house I want to see in thirty minutes. This one isn’t quite as lavish as the others I was looking at, but the pictures made it look gorgeous inside and it’s tucked away in a gated community that feels incredibly safe. I even saw a few basketball hoops in driveways and bikes left in the front yards when I looked it up on Google Earth.
I pull out my phone to see it’s Ashley again. Shit. I missed another session this morning. That makes three in just two weeks. Molly exits her house, looking like a million bucks in my favorite deep burgundy pencil skirt and silky black blouse. She’s literally trying to kill me with those stiletto heels. I thumb back a quick message, saying I’ll call Ashley later today. I’m out the door and kissing Molly before she makes it even halfway to my vehicle.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Rhodes,” she purrs.
My hands steal down her hips to her ass, wanting to take her right here on the driveway but knowing I can’t. Pretty sure there are laws about public indecency, and I have about ten indecent things I want to do to Molly. Something about seeing her in the stands at my game last week, wearing my jersey and cheering for my team, sealed the deal for me. I just had to look left to see Matthew going crazy when the Storm Chasers scored, then see him hug his mother in his excitement...it all made something click in my head.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Sparks,” I murmur back, stealing another kiss before forcing myself to release her. I hold my hand out and she walks to my truck, letting me help her up into it and buckle her seatbelt. I may cop a feel of her breast in the process, but she doesn’t slap my hand away so I’m not going to apologize.
In the car on the way to the walk through, we chat about all the things that have happened with Matthew here all week. He went back to his dad’s last night. I would have come over right away since I miss holding her each night we’re apart, but we got back late from a quick away game in North Carolina.
I pull up to a gate and have to give my name to the guard out front of the neighborhood, which Molly assures me decreases crime on average by 25 percent. I mostly just watch her face as we pull up in front of the house. We start the tour and Molly’s head is on a swivel, an excitement in her tone I didn’t hear in the other houses.
“Bobby?” Molly turns around in the chef’s kitchen and puts her hand on my chest. “Are you even looking at the double ovens?”
“Yeah, they’re great.” I know because her face lit up when she saw them.
Molly’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t even look at them,” she challenges.
I shrug and slide my arm around her waist. “I don’t need to look at them to know they’re great. If you like them, that’s enough for me.”
Her head tilts. “Bobby, this is your home. You have to like it.”
I lean down and pluck a kiss from her red stained lips. “I’ll like anything. What I need to know is if you like it so I can get you over here every chance I get.” I pull back and scan her face. “Do you like it?”
Molly’s face softens into a smile I know all too well. Her face does that every time I do something she likes and she’s about to let me do whatever I want. Fuck, I love that expression.
“Yes, I actually love this house. It’s beautiful, but not so over the top to be ostentatious, you know? And it’s safe. Not far from your job.”
I cut her off, not needing any more reasons other than she loves it. “Let’s make an offer.”
Her face lights up even more. “Really? This is the one?”
She means the house, but I mean so much more when I reply, “This is most definitely the one.”
Molly squeals, kisses me, then spins out of my arms to snatch up her laptop bag. We head back to my truck for privacy from any homeowner cameras, but don’t leave the curb while she writes up the offer. I suggest full price and she scoffs, telling me that’s why I hired her: to save me from making a mistake that will cost me money. I don’t think she has any idea how many zeros Kaitlyn negotiated in my contract. If she did, she wouldn’t be squabbling over twenty-thousand dollars.
But that’s one of the things I love about her. Yes, love. She’s down to earth and not sporting stars in her eyes because of my profession. I can trust her, and in the harsh world I grew up in, trust is everything.
My phone buzzes again and I take it out, ripping my gaze away from Molly’s feet in those heels. I was envisioning them on my shoulders, a repeat of our first date. This time it’s Ashley calling me, instead of texting. I answer, wincing when she immediately gives me shit for missing our morning session. Molly gasps and I realize Ashley’s talking so loudly Molly can hear her every word.
“You missed your session, Robert?” Molly asks me in that sexy scolding mom voice.
I cover up the phone. “Yeah. A couple, actually.” Molly’s mouth forms an accusatory O. “But I’ve been doing so well!”
Ashley chirps in my ear. “Is that Molly? Put me on speaker so I can ask her exactly how well—or not—you’ve been doing.” The two haven’t officially met, but I’ve talked freely with each of them about the other.
I hang my head but comply, hitting the button on my dash to put Ashley through the Bluetooth speakers. “Ashley, this is Molly. Molly, this is Ashley,” I grumble.
“Hi Ashley. I apologize for Bobby wasting your time this morning. I hate it when I have clients who do that to me.”
Well, shit. That makes me feel even worse. I can’t believe Molly’s had clients do a no-show on her. I make a mental note to ask her for exact names later.
Ashley chuckles. “Nice to meet you, Molly. It’s fine. I work from home so I can just do laundry or something when a client ditches our scheduled meeting. But, I’m committed to my clients getting better and if they miss, we can’t work on their issues. Bobby is doing so great, but it’s not like you can reprogram an entire childhood in a few weeks, you know?”
Molly moans. “I totally understand that. Therapy is lifelong, actually. I spent months in therapy after my ex-husband and I divorced, and that was amicable!”
The ladies keep chatting back and forth. I finally grab the door handle, thinking I’ll give the two of them some space to chat without me, but Molly snags my arm, her nails digging in just enough for me to know she means business.
“Do you have time right now to work with Bobby? I can step outside to give you privacy,” Molly offers.
“I sure do!” Ashley responds.
Molly reaches for the door handle, but I pull her back. “Stay. Please?”
Molly searches my face and then finally dips her head in agreement.
“We left off talking about childhood issues, Bobby. Do you feel comfortable talking about your mother?”
I rest my head back and wonder how the hell I got here. Then I feel Molly take my hand, lacing her fingers through mine, and I know exactly why I’m here. I want to do everything in my power to be a good man. A man she trusts her son with. A man she can open her heart to. Maybe it started out with saving my job, but I’m in this to win Molly.
Lifting my head, I look her in the eyes. “I don’t have any secrets from Molly, so let’s chat.”
“Ahh, that’s so sweet,” Ashley gushes over the speakers. Molly squeezes my fingers, and I shoot her a wink. “So last time you said your mother was your favorite parent. Can you explain that comment?”
I blow out a breath and think about growing up the youngest of five boys. The way my father ruled our house with a raised voice and physical reminders that he was more powerful than us. He was never what I would consider abusive, but he wasn’t warm and cuddly either.
“My dad is the kind who thinks crying is for pussies, pardon my language. He’d yell at us all the time and wasn’t afraid to wrestle us boys into submission when we gave him problems. Mom, on the other hand, is sweet. To this day I can’t fathom how she ended up with my dad, but they make it work.”
“She sounds like a safe haven. Is that how you see her?” Ashley asks.
I roll that around my brain. “Yeah, I would say so. She would always come to my room after Dad yelled at me or my brothers beat the snot out of me. She’d sit on the side of my bed and stroke my hair, talking softly about anything and everything until I was ready to talk about the argument. She made living in that house tolerable.”
Molly sniffs, and I’m horrified to see a sheen of tears in her eyes. She waves my concern away and blinks rapidly. Ashley makes some affirmative noises before speaking.
“I wonder how much that maternal influence has to do with your relationship with Molly. You’re a mom, right, Molly?”
“I am. My son is twelve and he can be described as a handful with a heart of gold.”
“I love that. Sounds familiar,” Ashley says. “Bobby, did you know she was a mom when you first met Molly?”
I nod, then realize she can’t see me. “Yes, I met her at the rink when she would drop off Matthew for practice. She’s a good mom. One of the best. I love that about her.”
Molly’s sniffles are back. “Thanks, Bobby.”
“I think you like her softness. I think her kindness reminds you of the only love and comfort you received as a boy. Would you say that’s correct?”
I tilt my head, thinking about all the various reasons I like Molly. Her being a mom is just one of them. “Sure. But I don’t just like her for that. I actually love her for a lot of things.”
Molly inhales sharply and I realize I’ve just confessed my love for Molly on a phone call with my therapist. Fuckity fuck. I tug on our conjoined hands and face her fully to salvage this. “Molly. I love you. I know it’s early, but I’m not one to fake how I feel.” Molly’s eyes have widened and her mouth’s doing that O thing again. It’s cute as hell, but I can practically feel the breeze from her brain spinning out of control. “I don’t need you to say anything back. I just wanted you to know.”
“Oh, my gosh! That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard!” Ashley coos loudly from the speakers. She’s giving me the feedback I wish Molly would.
Molly’s face flames with embarrassment, and if I could, I’d put myself in a headlock for choosing such horrible timing.
“Gosh! This is such great progress,” Ashley powers ahead, oblivious to the awkwardness inside this car. “Bobby, how’s your relationship with Matthew? Do you treat him the way your father treated you?”
I scoff, severely offended by that idea. “Absolutely not. We talk things through, and I try to be there for him any way I can. He’s safe with me.”
Ashley must hear my tone. “I bet he is,” she assures me before abruptly switching topics. “Do you want more kids, Bobby?”
“Of course,” I answer the same time Molly blurts out, “It’s too early for that.”
I haven’t actually put much thought into it, but I always envision myself with kids around me. A chance to do things differently than how I was raised. I always envision them way in the future when I have things more figured out, though. It takes me a second to realize what Molly said.
I feel her stiffen. When I glance at her, she’s looking down at her lap, teeth worrying her lip. “Molly?”
She lifts her head, eyes full of tears again. I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss her soft skin. I hate to see her cry.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I forget all about Ashley being on the phone. All that matters is finding out what I said to make Molly cry.
“Bobby,” her voice breaks and she pauses to clear her throat. “I’m forty. I don’t know if I can have more kids.”
My brain scrambles. What does she mean? “But there was that singer in Italy that gave birth at fifty-six. Or Janet Jackson! She was fifty. Oh! Kaitlyn! She just turned forty and had Mei!” I could give even more examples if she gave me time to Google it.
“That’s a beautiful thing. For them ,” Molly answers, squeezing my hand so hard I can’t feel my fingers. “But that doesn’t mean I can. I’m already experiencing perimenopausal symptoms.”
“Peri-what?”
“Um, excuse me?” Ashley’s voice startles both of us. “I don’t mean to interrupt but I’ll be late for my next client if we don’t wrap this up. I think maybe we better continue this conversation next session?”
“Sounds good,” I say absently and hang up the phone. I nearly crawl over the console to get my hands on Molly’s face, cupping her jaw and making her look me in the eye.
“This isn’t a make it or break it issue for me. Please don’t cry.”
“And I wouldn’t mind having more kids, but time’s not on my side, Bobby. If you want more kids, I’m not sure you should be with me.”
My heart starts pounding and not in a good way like when I’m about to beat someone’s ass for messing with my captain. “Hey. Don’t say that. Let’s table that topic for now. One thing at a time. Right now I want to take the lady I love to lunch so we can submit an offer on a house. As my mom would say, let’s not borrow trouble.”
Molly’s smile is watery, but it’s there. “Okay.”
I kiss her softly, savoring the scent of her filling my car. Instead of arguing about hypothetical kids in the distant future, I need to make Molly see how good we are together. That it’s not too early to talk about a future together. About how she can trust me with every aspect of her life. How much fun we have together. After parking by the restaurant, I make sure to tuck her into my side as we walk together.
“Maybe over lunch we can discuss the naked plans I have for you in each of those rooms we just looked at.”
“Bobby!”
“What? Can’t blame a man for having dreams and aspirations, baby.”