“Let’s go someplace else,” Molly blurted before she could stop herself.
“What? Why? You picked this place.”
“I know, I just…” Her voice trailed off when her mind went blank and she couldn’t think of one legitimate reason to leave.
The Boneyard was one of her favorite restaurants in Key West, especially on a Friday night with live steel drum music playing, frozen drinks specials flowing, and a light breeze stirring the evening air beneath the soft orange glow of string lights. What was she doing? She had as much right to be there as Anders did. The best thing to do was ignore him and try to have a good time too.
Molly kept her gaze averted as they followed the hostess past Anders’ table, but she knew the exact moment he spotted her. She felt his gaze like a lightning bolt, charged and caustic. Goose bumps rose on her skin and heat flushed her face. Fury roiled inside of her as she treaded carefully on the uneven, pebbled ground. Falling on her ass right now was exactly the last thing she wanted to do. What right did he have to be angry at her? He probably thought she was stalking him or something ridiculous like that.
Their table was located in one of the worst spots in the outdoor restaurant. Near the kitchen door and farthest from the stage. At least they’d gotten a table on short notice. Even in the off-season, weekend reservations at The Boneyard were tough to get unless you were someone special like Anders Ostergaard.
The waiter stopped to take their drink order and drop off two glasses of water. Molly ordered a margarita and Jeff ordered white wine. When the waiter was gone, Molly tore open her straw and stuck it in her glass. She was so thirsty, she finished off two-thirds of the water before she realized Jeff was staring at her.
“Sorry.” She sat back and picked up the straw wrapper. “I was thirsty.”
“Interesting place.”
Molly took a deep breath and shoved Anders out of her thoughts. Forcing herself to focus on making polite conversation with her date, she said lightly, “You’ve never been here before?”
He shook his head. “No. The livestock is interesting though. You’d think that would be considered a health hazard.”
He was referring to the red cockerel that was pecking the ground beside their table. The roosters, hens, and chicks that roamed the outdoor dining area were considered part of the kitschy atmosphere along with the mismatched yard-sale quality tables, plates, and glassware.
Molly shrugged. “Not really. It’s part of the ambiance.”
“That’s one name for it.” He snorted softly, picking up his glass of water.
The band finished the song they were playing and announced they were taking a short break. A recorded version of Don McLean’s ‘American Pie’ took over the speakers as they left the stage.
Molly’s gaze drifted toward Anders. His face was crinkled with humor as he put an arm around his manager’s shoulders and said something that must have been pretty funny because a bubble of laughter erupted from the table.
She was such a fool. She’d slept with him against her better judgment and the jackass lied to her and said he cared about her. Damn him and his gorgeous smile. This was why they said you should never meet your heroes. You know what else you shouldn’t do with them? You shouldn’t fu—
“Frozen margarita?” The waiter set the cocktail on the table in front of Molly. She faced forward, twisting her straw wrapper into a tight little rope, strangling it until it broke in half. The waiter took their food order and then dashed off again.
Jeff sat across from Molly, staring at his glass of white wine. Here they were again. Why had she agreed to a second date? To get out of the house and have a nice evening. That was why, she reminded herself. She really needed to try a little harder.
She took a long sip of her margarita and then pasted on a smile she wasn’t feeling.
“So, uh, how was your week?” Jeff’s hand trembled as he reached for his glass. He held the stem but didn’t pick it up.
Was he getting nervous again? She sniffed the air discreetly, hoping she wouldn’t smell stress sweat. She didn’t. She took another long sip of her margarita and started to feel a buzz. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast when she’d nibbled on an English muffin. “Cheyenne and I went out of town for a few days. We did a brief tour of the Caribbean and came home.”
“Wow. Business must be booming at the bookstore.” He chuckled and finally took a sip of wine.
Molly sat straighter, fighting a frown. “We do okay. How about you? How was your week?”
“I played golf. When I wasn’t working, of course.”
“You golf?” She stirred the slush in her drink. “You didn’t mention it in your Couples.com profile.”
“I find it puts some women off. But, yes, I golf every free moment I get.”
“So, you’re a weekend golfer?” She sipped her drink, half listening.
“Weekend. Weekdays. Sometimes I go before and after work.”
Molly finished off her drink, sucking the straw until the grating sound of air bubbles drew a look from Jeff that suggested he didn’t approve.
She didn’t really care. “That must be an expensive hobby, golfing.” If this had been a first date, she would’ve started peeking at her watch and scrambling for a reason to move the date along so she could get out of there.
Jeff shrugged. “It’s my passion. It’s worth it to me to cut corners in other aspects of my life. I live modestly so I can support my hobby.”
Molly understood passion. Her passion was music, and she’d cut corners in her own life and raised her daughter on the road just so she could keep playing. Performing at Dixie’s was enough to pacify her craving, but some days she missed being out on tour.
“You know what?” Molly pushed her glass away and leaned back in her chair. “Good for you. I personally loathe golfing, but if it makes you happy then keep doing it for as long as you can. Maybe you should lead with that on your Couples.com profile though. I bet there’s a single gal out there who loves golf just as much as you do.”
Jeff picked up his glass, but it never made it to his mouth. “Does that mean you, uh, aren’t going to go out with me again?”
“No,” she said truthfully, and the brutal honesty felt good. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t have a nice dinner and share each other’s company for a couple of hours.”
“I suppose, but wow. I never saw this coming.” He had the expression of someone who had been blindsided by a hockey puck. “I appreciate your candor. It’s just…wow.”
Molly’s cell phone buzzed in her clutch purse. She’d told Cheyenne to call if she needed her. Chey was meeting her father for dinner at Captain Tony’s Saloon. Molly had offered to go along to introduce them, but Cheyenne had wanted to meet Trevor by herself. It was going to take some getting used to, but Molly realized her little girl was growing up. As much as it bit her butt that Cheyenne was having dinner with her father at that very moment, Molly knew she had to step back and let Cheyenne make some of her own decisions. And mistakes.
“Sorry, it’s a text from my daughter. She says she’s just checking in, but I want to call her to see if she’s all right and use the restroom while I’m up. It might take a few minutes, but I’ll be back. Will you stay?”
Jeff’s bemused expression cleared and he nodded. “I have a steak coming and another glass of wine on the way. I’ll stay.”
When Molly stood up, the world popped into ultra-high definition and she realized her buzz was stronger than she thought. She stopped to smooth the front of her snug-fitting dress. Tossing her long mass of red curls over her shoulder, she patted Jeff’s arm and started for the bathroom, carefully making her way across the scattered stone walkway. She phoned Cheyenne on the way and got her voicemail.
The narrow path followed the far side of the house between a tall, ivy-covered fence and past the discretely hidden staircase, which led to the former bordello on the second floor. A gate marked “emergency exit only” stood at the end of the path. She turned into the
alcove that separated the men’s room from the ladies and ducked into the bathroom.
After she used the facilities, she checked herself in the mirror. Her buzz was still going strong, and it felt damn nice. Fluffing her hair, she decided she looked smoking hot tonight. The top of her breasts bulged provocatively above the neckline of her dress. The hemline was a lot shorter than she was used to wearing, making a good portion of her thighs feel exposed and vulnerable. The silk panties beneath were so negligible that she might as well be bare. She hadn’t intended to see Anders tonight, but she hoped he’d noticed what he was missing.
Exiting the alcove, she turned the corner and stopped short as her traitorous heart thumped against her chest. Anders stood in the path beside the bordello stairs with a brooding expression on his face.
The butterflies in her stomach stood up and did the wave.
Molly squared her shoulders and was reminded how her breasts strained again the tight bodice. He noticed too. His gaze grew hot and his nostrils flared. She moved toward him on legs that felt like pudding and somehow managed to look him in the eye. “Let me pass.”
“No.” He didn’t move.
Her lower belly tightened. “What do you want?”
He cleared his throat, and his eyes flicked to her face. “Who’s the guy?”
“Are you serious? Why do you care?” Heat climbed up her throat. “You ditched me in Miami and you’ve ignored me since we’ve been back. No, you don’t get to inquire about my love life.” Trembling with indignation, she reached out to steady herself on the wooden banister.
He gritted his teeth, and a muscle flexed in his jaw. “I needed some time.”
“Time for what?”
“I just didn’t think you’d move on so fast. Christ, Molly, you were in my bed two nights ago.”
Outrage sputtered through her body like a burning fuse. “If I was a foot taller, I’d slap your mouth sideways.” She started up the steps, intending to go around him, but he grabbed her waist and spun her to face him. Standing on the second step, she was almost eye level with him. “Dagnabit. Let go of me.”
“What am I supposed to think seeing you dressed like that, clearly on a date with another man?”
“You don’t get a say in who I spend time with. I’m nothing, remember?”
He frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The press conference— Never mind.” She tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn’t let go.
“I care because we’re friends.”
Molly let out a bitter laugh. “Friends? Friends call and check in when they’ve just been through a traumatic event. You abandoned us in Miami, Anders.”
“I hired a limo.”
“I didn’t want a fucking limo. I wanted you.” Tears flared behind Molly’s eyes and she scrunched her face to keep them from falling. She looked down for a moment and sniffled. Then she took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “At first, I just wanted to be your friend. Because after getting to know you, I couldn’t imagine not having you in my life. But there was something else between us. Chemistry maybe. I don’t know. I-I fell in love with you. I didn’t mean to or want to, but I did.” Her stomach was still in knots, but at least her heart felt lighter. She was turning into a regular Honest Abe. The truth was liberating, even if it didn’t change a thing.
There was pain in Anders’ expression and something else. Regret maybe? He let go of her and rested his hands on his hips. She could have run away then, but she stayed where she was, too curious to hear what he was going to say.
“When I saw Wade point that gun at you…” Anders shook his head as if he was trying to get the image out of his mind.
Molly recalled the moment with a shudder. “Yes?” she prompted when he looked like he was having difficulty getting past it.
Anders drove his fingers through his hair, carelessly tossing the dirty blond waves. “I can buy anything I want. Travel anywhere in the world. I could never work another damn day in my life and still live like a rich man for the rest of it. But none of that mattered.” He squeezed his eyes shut. When he looked at her again, there was moisture on his eyelashes. “None of that could help me save you and I just…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.
The remnants of Molly’s anger evaporated, leaving behind an intense ache that made her feel raw and vulnerable. “What are you saying?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t call to check up on you.”
She waited for more, but when he just stood there staring at the ground, she shook her head in exasperation. “That’s it? I tell you I love you and your response is to apologize for not calling?”
His head snapped up, and he leaned forward aggressively. “If you love me then why are you out with another man?”
“Are we seriously back to that?” Molly stomped her foot in frustration. “You sound like a jealous idiot.” She shoved his chest as hard as she could to move him out of the way, but he barely budged.
“Because I am a jealous idiot,” he shouted.
They both stopped and stared at each other, panting heavily.
Molly’s stomach leapt, but she refused to let it sway her. If he wasn’t going to admit to himself why he was jealous, she wasn’t going to wait around for him to figure it out. This needed to end now. For her own sanity. “I can’t do this.”
“Wait. Stop.” He grabbed her waist when she turned to go. “I have feelings for you, Molly, but—”
“But what? ‘You’re single and plan to remain so for the foreseeable future’,” she quoted from the press conference. When he didn’t correct her, a chunk of her heart broke off and floated away. “So, this really is goodbye?”
“No. Yes. Yes, Molly, it is. I’m sorry.”
Her chest was jam-packed with so many emotions she could barely breathe. Along with sadness and disappointment there was anger and frustration. And love. She still loved him so damn much her heart hurt. If this was truly the end, she wanted to say goodbye to him properly on her own terms. “Come upstairs.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Anders followed Molly up the stairs without question, because frankly, he’d follow her anywhere. From the balcony, she opened one of the French doors and let herself inside, tugging him along behind her. He was still trembling with adrenaline from their argument. Still nauseous from rehashing Nassau.
Watching Molly defend herself on that boat had triggered memories from childhood. His drunken father throwing his poor, fragile mother to the ground and kicking the crap out of her while she was pregnant with Jonas. The feeling of helplessness, because if Anders tried to interfere, Jimmy would take the brunt of the punishment. Anders had woken from patchy nightmares these last two nights with his mother’s screams still echoing in his soul. Watching her be put in the ground before her thirty-fourth birthday was the hardest thing he’d ever had to face. He couldn’t go through that pain again. He couldn’t let himself love someone so deeply that his next breath depended on hers.
He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Molly. Not yet. But he couldn’t give her what she wanted—what she deserved—because he was a coward.
His cowboy boots scuffed the faded hardwood floors as she led him into the room. It had a slightly musty mothball smell. Two antique sofas sat facing each other in the center of the space. A couple of old paintings on the wall depicted nudes posing in sexually provocative positions. One particularly spicy piece of art made Anders stop for a closer look. A randy, naked man stood behind a voluptuous Victorian-era woman who was bent over a table with her skirts hiked over her waist and her plump bare ass in the air, waiting to be taken from behind.
Molly tugged his hand, encouraging him to keep moving. His gaze shifted to her tight, round ass accentuated by her clingy red dress. Her thighs were bare, showing off a pair of legs that seemed disproportionately long for someone so short. She shot him a look over his shoulder that made the sleeping cicadas in his stomach start to hum.
The
second room was a twin to the first, taking up the whole west side of the second floor. Several boxes and a few pieces of dusty antique furniture that had seen better days were stacked in the corner. At the back of the room, there were three doorways, closets maybe, covered with gaudy red velvet drapes.
“What is this place?” he finally asked.
She gave him an impish smile. “Just a storage space now, but back in the early 1900s it was a bordello. There are stalls behind those curtains where the girls used to take their gentleman callers. And for an extra fee, you could watch while you were waiting your turn.” Dropping his hand, she demonstrated how the little strip of wood on the wall swung up on a hinge to reveal a rectangle-shaped hole that would be about eye level for someone seated in a chair. All three stalls had the same peepshow feature.
“Why are you showing me this?” he said cautiously.
“Because.” She held the curtain aside and peeked into the stall. “I think you owe me a proper goodbye.” Looking back at him, she shrugged. “Unless you’d rather just shake my hand so I can get back to my date?”
Anders frowned as a primal feeling clawed at his gut. He gritted his teeth and fought the urge to march downstairs and punch the guy in the face.
“Your choice,” she said, and then disappeared inside the stall.
The cicadas in his stomach chattered louder. He was suddenly sweating like it was the hottest, stickiest summer night in Southern Alabama and lightheaded with an erection that was threatening to pop the zipper off his jeans. He reached for the curtain and followed her inside.
The three-by-four stall wasn’t big enough for a cot. Instead, there was just a sturdy, counter high oak bench to the left. Molly perched on top of it with her legs crossed demurely. A whore she was not, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to take her like one if that was what she wanted. On the wall behind her, a frosted window let in the moonlight and the glow of string lights from the restaurant below. The band had started playing again, and a steel drum rendition of Bellefonte’s ‘Jamaica Farewell’ vibrated against the glass.
Bahama Mama Page 31