Molly's Mr. Wrong

by Jeannie Watt

  “I went through everything three times,” he said just for the hell of it. Denny shot him an unsmiling look, then lifted a hand in a salute before heading out of class. He hadn’t extended his middle finger, but Finn got the feeling he would have liked to.

  Once he was gone, Finn nodded at his paper. “I, uh, noticed that my paper was different than Debra’s.”

  Molly blinked at him. She didn’t look as if she’d purposely manipulated things to make him feel dumb or inadequate, but that had been what had happened. “I told you I was differentiating.”

  “Which is another way of saying dumbing down.”

  Molly leaned back against her desk, gripping it on either side of the skirt that perfectly outlined her thighs. “You’ll have to lose that attitude if we’re going to make progress. All I’m doing is adjusting the assignment so that you achieve the objectives in the most efficient manner.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. Fancy talk didn’t change the truth.

  “Trust me, Finn.”

  “Trust you.” He glanced down at the floor for a moment. He’d trusted her when she told him to come back to class. “I don’t like feeling stupid, Molly.”

  “Then don’t. Feel like someone who learns differently.”

  “How do you grade someone who learns differently?”

  Molly wet her lips. “Differently.”

  “That sounds like a replay of high school.” And damned if he was going to have that happen twice in his lifetime. Some people may be fine with being passed along, but he had his pride. Maybe too much pride.

  “It isn’t.” Molly moved around the desk to the box she used to carry her paperwork. She dug through a couple folders, then pulled out a card. “I’ve written down the addresses of websites with special exercises I want you to work on.”

  Finn took the card and studied it for a moment. “This will help.”

  “You’re going to have to work harder than everyone else, but yes, I think it will help.”

  “I want to come out of this with pretty much the same result as everyone else.”

  “You will. It’s the workload I’m modifying, not the result. The way this works is that the in-class assignments are shorter, but you have to do this other work outside of class to compensate.”

  She tilted her head at him. “Are you game?”

  His gaze dropped down to her lips and Molly went still. When he met her eyes again, she was wearing a seriously wary expression.

  “Are you?” she repeated. “Because I’m not going to do this extra work if you aren’t going to take advantage of it.”

  Finn felt a twinge of shame. Yeah, she was doing extra work for him. “I’m game.”

  “Good.” She cleared her throat and continued more briskly, back to full instructor mode. “Would it be possible for you to print out the results from the first two exercises and drop them by my office tomorrow, so I can assess before the next class?”

  “I’ll see if I can do it at work.”

  “Work. Right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “No. That’s okay. I’ll try to get it done.” He had more free time than he should have once Chase showed up for his afternoon shifts. Why not dive into his studies? Well, maybe not dive, but rather wade in slowly and try hard not to get knocked down by waves.

  “My office hours are four to five, but if I’m not there or in the classroom, just slide the paper under the door.”

  “Right.” He tucked the card in the folder he carried and started for the door.

  “Finn.” He looked back. “You do understand that I wasn’t trying to make you feel inadequate. That would be...counterproductive.”

  His mouth tightened. “Counterproductive. No. We wouldn’t want that.” He turned and walked back toward her, getting a measure of satisfaction out of the way her eyes widened ever so slightly. “Maybe I’m not so much concerned about inadequacy as the power dynamic.”

  “How so?”

  “You have all of it.” His idea of distracting himself—and her—with a sexual vibe was now a smoking pile of ashes. How was he supposed to do that when he was fighting to keep up with everyone else, despite having remedial assignments?

  “And you don’t like that?” Her voice got just the tiniest bit cold, as if he’d touched a nerve.

  “Maybe it’ll just take me a little time to get used to it.” If he didn’t academically crash and burn first.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Georgina held up two dresses, but before Molly could answer, she said, “Or should I go with jeans? You can’t go wrong with jeans. Unless it’s a formal occasion.” She laid the dresses on the bed. “With jeans, I have to find a top. With dresses, I don’t.”

  “The red,” Molly said, pointing to the dress on the left.

  “You think?”

  “You wore it last week. You looked great. It’s casual and you won’t have to find the right top.”

  “Yeah,” Georgina said as she tapped a forefinger on her bottom lip and studied the two knit dresses. “I agree.”

  And Molly couldn’t remember the last time her sister had put this much thought into what she was going to wear. Or the last time that she, herself, had spent so much time brooding over a guy who wasn’t Blake. But while Finn wasn’t Blake, he was reacting like him. The fact that he wasn’t the one in control bothered him—he’d come right out and admitted it, so it wasn’t as if Molly was reading things into the situation.

  She was so damned tired of macho men.

  “I like this guy,” Georgina said, somehow guessing the direction of Molly’s thoughts. Maybe the bemused frown had tipped her off.

  “You don’t know this guy.”

  “Well...sometimes you just feel that something.” She hung the dresses back in the tiny closet she’d finally made peace with and closed the door.

  “Have you felt that something before?”

  “Nope. First time.”

  Georgina had dated a lot but had never gotten all that serious about any one guy. That was where Molly had made her mistake. She hadn’t been with that many guys before getting together with Blake. After they’d hooked up, she’d been overwhelmed by her good fortune in landing him. He was intelligent, charismatic, sexy. Being with him had helped her take charge of other areas of her life, and then finding out she hadn’t been enough had broken that confidence into about a zillion little pieces. If she’d made such a mistake with him, then maybe she was making mistakes in other areas? Maybe she had reason to be insecure?

  Thank goodness for anger. If Molly hadn’t been so angry about being cheated on, she might have messed up. Taken him back. Given him a second chance, a third, a fourth. She had no idea how many second chances Blake’s mother had given his father, but she wasn’t about to play that game. Blake had shattered her world, so she set about building a new one, drawing on strength she hadn’t realized she had.

  And she never wanted to do that again, so she’d made a few strict life rules to make certain she never had to do that again. Number one rule—stay in control. Number two—don’t be taken in by charm, good looks, sex appeal. There would be no more Blakes in her life. The men she dated would have substance...and small egos. They’d be the kind of men who were comfortable owning up to mistakes, who didn’t see themselves as near perfect. Men who could compromise without feeling as if they were endangering their manhood.

  Molly ended up calling upon both rules when Finn strolled into her office late Monday afternoon, carrying a printout of the writing exercises she’d asked him to complete. He set them on her desk, then stepped back and shoved his hands into his back pockets, as if he had no idea what to do with them. He sucked in his cheeks momentarily, accentuating the amazing hollows there. The guy had bones. Bones and an ego...and from the looks of things, his ego might be t
he slightest bit bruised from yet another reality check. Molly was not beyond taking advantage, because she knew from her experiences with Blake that bruised egos healed and became stronger.

  “Did you have any major issues?” she asked.

  “Define major.”

  “Major as in something that would make you react defensively to a simple question.”

  Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Actually, there was nothing major. It just took a lot of time.”

  “Did you learn something?”

  “I did.”

  Molly waited, just in case he was going to expand on his answer, and found herself wishing that he hadn’t worn a simple gray T-shirt. Would it have killed him to put on a regular shirt over it, so that she didn’t have to be distracted by...him?

  She raised her eyebrows in a coolly polite expression. “Anything you want to go over?”

  “It was pretty straightforward.” He shifted his weight, folding his arms over his chest. “Anything you want to tutor me on?”

  Had he purposely made the question sound sexual? Or was that simply where her brain was whenever he was around?

  “Not if you feel like you understood these exercises.”

  “Like I said. I did.” His lips curved into a faint smile as if he realized that she might be repeating herself because, regardless of all the pep talks she gave herself, he still rattled her on some level.

  “It must be close to closing time. Would you like to get a coffee?”

  A jolt went through her at the unexpected offer. She automatically shook her head as she quickly sifted through possible motives. “I think it’s best to keep things between us as they are now.”

  “Which is...?”

  “We’re friendly acquaintances. Teacher, student.”

  “It’s coffee, Molly. Something that friendly acquaintances or even teachers and students do.”

  “Thank you, but no.”

  * * *

  FINN HAD TO SAY that this was the first time a woman had ever refused a simple coffee with him. He’d been turned down for date-dates. He knew the sting of rejection. But coffee date rejection shouldn’t sting. It was coffee, for Pete’s sake. The kind of safe, innocuous date that Mike was going on with his mystery woman, and the kind that Chase was going on with Molly’s sister. Coffee was safe. The kind of thing you did with a friend or someone you wanted to know better.

  Why was she so defensive with him? It wasn’t all because of the past and it wasn’t entirely because she still found him attractive on some level. He was certain on those points—something else was causing her knee-jerk, self-protective reactions. And if that was the case, he needed to get a grip and to stop seeing this attitude of hers as a challenge or an insult.

  But still, was wanting to sit down to a cup of coffee, to talk about neutral subjects in a neutral locale, so bad?

  Apparently so, judging from the way she’d shut him down.

  He drove back to the store where Mike was babysitting the kitten. When Finn walked through the door, Lola put a finger to her lips, and the customer she was helping smiled in the direction of the office. Finn crossed to the office door and looked in. Mike was sound asleep in his reclining chair, the tiny kitten nestled in his lap.

  “They both conked out about a half hour ago.”

  “Late-night feedings,” Finn said. Mike had insisted on taking the kitten every other night to feed him every two hours, starting last night. Tonight was Finn’s night. Lola came to stand beside him, beaming in at the sleeping pair.

  “Little Buddy has put on weight already. We weighed him on the nail scale.”

  Finn smiled, then pulled the office door partway closed. The store closed in an hour, so he’d let the two of them sleep, then feed Buddy and take him home.

  “How’s school?” Lola asked as she moved back behind the counter. Finn had decided to let the world know he was taking classes once he committed himself to finishing the English course. Mike had been surprised, but also a little pleased when Finn had explained he needed to expand his horizons and try new things.

  “Harder than I remembered.”

  “The brain is like a muscle. You have to keep it exercised.”

  “Oh, I’m exercising it, all right.”

  Lola leaned her elbows on the counter. “What is it you want to do? Or are you just taking the classes for fun?”

  Fun. Right. She seemed genuinely interested, so Finn confessed, “I want to get some kind of a degree, but I’ve forgotten a lot of stuff since high school.” Along with what he hadn’t bothered to learn.

  “And it worries you.”

  “It makes me wonder about my future.”

  Lola narrowed her dark eyes at him, making him feel a bit like a kid again. “I know about being worried about the future. Before I got this job...everything in my life was a worry. No money means no way of knowing how you’ll deal with tomorrow. But you have a good job here. A future. So, no matter what, you have a safety net.”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t going to tell her that sometimes he felt as if his brain was dying inside his safety net. “I’d better go roust Chase. He’s probably sleeping on the grain bags.”

  “He doesn’t do that!” Lola narrowed her eyes. “Does he?”

  Finn just smiled and headed for the side exit.

  * * *

  THERE WERE SOUNDS coming from the art room again, wall thumping and chair dragging, so Molly stopped pretending she could concentrate and headed next door.

  “Hey,” Allie called from the other side of the room where she was hanging posters on the wall. “Would you mind lending a hand? This thing keeps popping the staple and rolling up before I can get the next staple in.”

  “You bet.” Molly grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the wall and then took hold of a corner of the laminated poster. Allie got up on her chair and thwacked the opposite corner with the stapler a couple times, then handed it off to Molly, who did the same.

  “Now...if you’d just keep your hand on your corner while I unroll this...” Allie carefully unfurled the laminated poster and fastened the bottom to the corkboard. “So help me, this thing had better not jump off the wall.” She slowly removed her hand and Molly did the same. The poster stayed in place.

  “You would think a college would have thumbtacks,” Allie said. “I’d kind of banked on them. Three staplers. No thumbtacks.”

  “Maybe so they don’t end up on the teacher’s chair?”

  Allie laughed. “That’s probably it.”

  She stood back, hands on hips, regarding the poster. “It’s not quite straight, but I’m going to call it good.”

  “I would.”

  Allie glanced over at the clock. “I’m an hour early. Still kind of excited to be teaching something I like.”

  “What did you teach before?”

  “I student-taught high school art, but my first actual job was working in the elementary school library and, well, let’s just say I wasn’t a natural there. It was kind of a free-for-all a lot of the time.” Allie wrinkled her nose. “I’m much better with adults.”

  “Me, too.” Molly hadn’t taught elementary, but she was comfortable teaching adults. Most adults. Not Finn. She wanted to teach him but wasn’t comfortable doing it.

  “I didn’t realize that I’d gone to school with your sister the first time we met.”

  “Which one?”

  “Jolie.”

  “She’ll be back in the area pretty soon. She’s moving onto the ranch.”

  “We didn’t really know each other that well,” Molly was quick to explain. “I spent most of my time at school with my nose in a book.”

  “Me, too,” Allie said wryly.

  Somehow Molly didn’t think it was in the same way that she’d buried herself in her stud
ies, or for the same reasons. Allie did not appear to be one bit shy or awkward.

  “No. Really,” Allie said, somehow reading her thoughts. “My sisters were totally outgoing. Well, Mel, the closest one to me in age, was very serious, but she was also afraid of nothing.” She smiled self-deprecatingly. “I was a total geek, focused on my studies. Then I married too young, screwed up my life because I didn’t know any better.”

  “I did something very similar without getting married,” Molly admitted. “Which is why I’m here in the Eagle Valley. New life.” She smiled a little. “I guess I’m better off because of all the things that happened, but it kind of sucked at the time.”

  Allie considered her for a long moment. “Let’s go have a drink sometime. I think we have a lot in common.”

  Molly smiled at her. “I’d like that. A lot.”

  * * *

  FINN LEANED BACK from his computer and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t spent this much time staring at a monitor in forever. How did kids spend hours on video games? The website Molly had given him had nothing to do with verbs—it was about organizing writing. Truly, Finn hadn’t had a clue about organization. He knew what a paragraph was—or rather what one looked like—but hadn’t known much about their structure.

  A squeak from the box at his feet had him pushing back his chair and scooping up Buddy with one hand. He held the kitten to his chest and reread the paragraph he wrote. Topic sentence. The three sentences that followed all had something to do with the topic, which was the care of orphan kittens.

  He kind of wished now that he hadn’t thrown away his first Molly paper, because he already had an inkling of what he might have done wrong. He’d written off the top of his head, and his mind did tend to jump around. Who knew about organization?

  Buddy started climbing his shirt toward his neck, a sure sign that he was hungry.

  “All right, all right.”

  The little guy’s eyes were all the way open now and when Finn detached him, Buddy stared at him with his serious baby cat expression. “What shall we have tonight?” Finn asked. “Does milk sound all right?”

  He tucked the kitten onto the shoulder of his hoodie, his fingers wrapped loosely around him, then headed into the kitchen where he made the formula with his free hand and filled the bottle. Then he settled into his chair for a feeding. There was something kind of soothing about feeding the kitten, rubbing his belly afterward to make him go, cleaning him up. He’d never thought much about fatherhood before, but he felt like a dad. Hell, he was a dad. A cat dad.