by Scott, Talyn
“That’s why I ran away, came here,” she said with a yawn, her eyelids growing incredibly heavy.
“Oh, Molly, don’t you see?” Bren placed her on the bed and touched his fingertips to her forehead. “You didn’t run away, you answered your calling.” Then everything went completely black.
Molly heard the vertical blinds sliding across the window, felt the Florida sun making its way across her face. “Hmm, too strong to be morning,” she murmured, opening her eyes to find Heath Faden nearing the bed.
“True, happy noonday,” he greeted her with a wicked grin. “Sweet dreams?”
“Not at all,” she muttered.
“Then why are you flushin’ so?” he asked. “Come on, I’m bored. Care to share?”
Molly sat up, pushing the hair away from her face. “Share?” Four hands sliding over her in that copper bathtub. A hot body pressed against her back, then… “I don’t remember,” she lied. By the roll of his unusual eyes, Heath knew it. But how? “Okay, let’s just say I don’t want to, uh, share.” Molly qualified, feeling her face heating.
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?” she echoed, watching the sun dance through his ebony hair, catching highlights of blue. He was past sinful, his body…there was too much of him. However, Molly had to admit that Heath was decadent, even in the way he moved across the floor, liquid and confident. “What’s hmm supposed to mean, exactly?”
“Why do women analyze everythin’ to death? Forget it,” he laughed, “don’t answer that. How do you feel?”
“Why?”
He sat next to Molly, dipping the mattress beneath his weight, though he didn’t touch her. “Well, last night, when you arrived here, you were quite upset about your tosser of a husband.”
The shame. “Yeah, well, sorry about that. I found my husband Wilson…never mind.” She looked down, having no recollection of dressing for bed. “Speaking of last night, did I drink?”
“Not that I recall, though I was working most of the night.” A rust-colored tattoo stretched from his right jaw, down the side of his throat, ending somewhere beneath his shirt. She didn’t remember him having that when she first arrived.
“What kind of tattoo is that? Is it new?” Which really wasn’t Molly’s business, why should she care about his body art? She had things to do and the longer she stayed.... Oh, she had a sick feeling balling in the pit of her stomach.
“Yes, the ink is new, hurt like a bugger.” A tilt of his head. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I will be as soon as I leave here.”
“You just arrived yesterday,” he argued, one brow arching. “Am I such a terrible host?”
“No,” Molly said more to herself, than to Heath, “but I’ll be damned if I turn into one of my sisters, and this place is messing with my head.”
Chapter Two
Three months later
Fort Myers Florida
‘Mol, there is a difference between being an assertive woman and being a bitch. Believe it or not, Bane is just trying to help, so stop sharpening your claws on him. There’s only so much a man can take.’ A deep breath. ‘I know this is a horrible day for you, and I cannot imagine what you’re going through… and I don’t understand why you refused to let me tag along and support you at the courthouse…but, at least come by for lunch or dinner soon. I swear Mom will not be here, if that’s what you’re worried about. We can even get drunk and skinny dip in the ocean, just like old times. Call me back.’ Molly deleted Renee’s message and tossed her phone inside her purse.
“You should call your sister back, you know.”
“So Renee can tear into me about Bane some more? I don’t think so.” Molly laughed wearily. “I’m sick of hearing Bane’s recitation of the Miranda law, modified for my life as he sees fit, telling me what I can and cannot do. Last I checked I was a grown woman, not his little girl.” She picked up her fork, scraping the mushrooms from her chicken. Shaking her head, she signaled for more wine instead. On a day like today, food would never stay down.
“You know, a few months ago, when Arian brought you and your grandmother down to Miami, I thought the best thing you could do was to turn around and head right back here to Fort Myers.” Gage MacGelton gave her a discerning look, and since he was truly stunning, it just didn’t intimidate her the way he intended. “Now, I’m second guessing myself, which is a rarity.” He pushed back his finished plate and lifted his wineglass.
“Miami is not home,” she grumbled, checking her watch. To Molly’s surprise, it was a quarter past seven. She glanced over Gage’s shoulder, towards the bar. The Blue Pelican was wall to wall tonight, so downing a drink or six and finding an anonymous, celebratory penis shouldn’t prove difficult. After all, she was a single woman, and forgetting every damned minute of her afternoon court hearing with Wilson would improve her outlook. Forgetting the past few months, however, would save her sanity. On the bright side, things could only get better, meaning she’d already hit rock bottom.
“Well, you didn’t give Miami a chance. Think about your income. Not that budget cuts are your fault, but your position at the Edison and Ford Winter Estates has been…”
“I was demoted from a full time curator to a part time docent, although my work load was doubled,” she finished for him, while taking a sidelong glance at a hot piece of ass strolling by their table. And…there she went, her skin erupting in flames. In an effort to cool down, Molly picked up her water goblet and discretely rolled the condensation across her forehead.
“The budget cuts have cut your budget down significantly,” Gage said, studying her over his glass. “By tomorrow morning, you have to move everything out of your and Wilson’s condo.”
“I heard you the first time. Got it. Stop talking to me like Bane does. I’m not an errant child on the verge of a temper tantrum.” Sure her mouth got her into trouble more times than not, but that was in the past. Or so she hoped.
He continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “Selling your condominium will take some time, and since you need the money from the sale in order to purchase another property, you should accept Jayce’s kind offer.”
Jayce wanted to buy her a nice place on the water, but she refused. She wouldn’t be beholden to anyone. “I can make it just fine.”
Gage smiled faintly. “In this economy, there’s a high demand for rentals so they’re not cheap.”
“Economics…supply and demand, learned the circle of financial life in college. By the way, thanks for not making things sound pathetically impossible,” Luckily, the server picked that time to refill her wineglass, so she downed it in three unladylike gulps. “Continue,” Molly demanded when she came up for air. “Don’t hold back, Gage.”
He gave her a look that said ‘Honey, I am holding back’. “I have arranged for movers to gather your things and take them to Renee’s house for storage. Perhaps you would like to be at the condo to make sure they don’t leave anything of yours behind. No point in having to call Wilson later, asking for overlooked items.”
“Thanks, I’ll be there.” However, she hoped that Wilson wouldn’t be. “What time?”
“The movers are scheduled for ten-thirty, though we can change the time, just let me know now.”
“Time’s fine.” Renee wanted Molly to move into her house. Her mother demanded that she come back home. And Tatum’s other husband had offered her a one bedroom condo, here at The Blue Pelican, if she decided against Miami. Considering the latter, Bren was the only one offering her privacy. “I told Bren I’d move into whatever he’s holding for me here.”
Gage pulled a numbered card key from his pocket. “It’s on the first floor of the Seminole building. You can step onto the beach from your back slider.”
The beach was the furthest thing from her mind. “I’m paying Bren rent.”
“You will insult him, if you do.”
“Then Bren will have to be insulted.” She crossed her legs, fidgeting. “I’ll tell Tatum not to expect me back in M
iami until she goes into labor.” She stared down at her wedding rings, wondering why she hadn’t yet pawned them. “And that next trip will be just to help my sister with the new baby. I won’t stay permanently. I’m not running away again, Gage.”
“I never implied that you should run.” He kept his expression neutral. “Distance has a way of putting things into perspective. We all need perspective, right? Divorce is painful. Whether you still love the person you are divorcing or not, it doesn’t matter, because it’s brutal, tears the flesh from your bones. Take some time to recoup. You need it.”
“I know what I need.” She needed space. She needed to understand those erotically strange dreams she encountered almost nightly. “We argued this point before we left the courthouse. Why can’t you drop it?”
“Because I don’t understand why you would stay where you harbor painful memories of Wilson, where you cannot sleep soundly? My penthouse is yours for as long as you need it.” He lifted his briefcase and pulled out her court documents. “Do you have any questions regarding the last-minute amendments we made?”
Holding up her hands, she waved off the legal documents, didn’t want to read them again. “Why are you being so nice to me? You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” He slid the documents back into his briefcase. “In a way, you’re a lot like me. At least, the way I used to be. You want what you want. There’s nothing wrong with that so long as you maintain honor to achieve what you want. I learned that lesson the hard way. I credit my life’s transitions to finding my Azure. She changed something significant inside me. Before Azure, your sister did. Tatum always accepted me for who I was, understood me for what I was, and her unconditional friendship carried me along when I would have given up.”
“You’re like Tatum’s best friend.” And she couldn’t understand it.
“Tatum should be your best friend, Molly. Call her more often. If anyone can see you through your recent life’s transition, it’s Tatum.”
“I know. I know.” She pressed her fingertips against her temples. “Tatum’s previous marriage was far worse than mine ever was.” Not to mention that Tatum’s ex was now dead. “I get it. I have no reason to complain over Wilson turning his working partner into his bed partner.” When she really thought about it, Molly realized she hadn’t complained much at all, apart from an hour she spent crying on Renee’s shoulders. “Men and Women walk this road daily.”
“Now, did I ever say you didn’t have a reason to complain?” Gage asked. “Pain is pain, doesn’t matter whose is greater. What hurts one may not hurt another. But if it hurts you, Molly, it’s real.”
With a smile, she said, “Attorney and motivational guru.” Molly wasn’t about to cry on his shoulders. “Jayce must pay a fortune for your services.” She sure hadn’t. “How did you get me alimony when it’s unheard of in the state of Florida?”
“I made sure that Wilson saw things my way,” Gage replied, checking an incoming text. “Wilson isn’t going to hurt any. He’s loaded. Besides, it’s far less money than you’re accustomed to having. You can scale back your spending and find another job. Just as a precaution, in case you change your mind about Miami, I’ll have Stacy check the openings at Jordan Marketing to see if anything suits.”
She sighed. “I’ve applied at the school board and at a couple of museums in Fort Myers.” Tugging at a loose thread on her gray skirt, she added reluctantly, “And I understand that I haven’t any room to be choosy.”
“I have connections; perhaps I can find you a curator’s position nearby.” He motioned for the check. “Meanwhile, Wilson’s monthly payments are set up on direct deposit and I will oversee them. If he tries anything shady, I’ll personally handle it.”
She couldn’t help but think how awkward things were for brothers-n-law. “Jayce and Bren were good friends with Wilson long before they married my sister.”
Gage shrugged. “You’re family. Jayce and Bren choose family above all. You have no idea how far their loyalties reach, although in time, you will. And if I were Wilson, I would avoid crossing paths with either of them anytime soon. They’re not happy with what he’s done to you.”
Molly remembered Jayce approaching her the morning she left Gage’s penthouse, asking her exactly what she needed to make her happy. She laughed and said that she wanted Wilson out of her life, but Wilson refused to cooperate, refused to grant her a divorce or an annulment since Attorney Dibosa wouldn’t leave her husband and kids for him. Jayce smiled and told her to consider it done. Knowing how shrewd of an attorney Wilson was, she didn’t believe Jayce for a minute. Hindsight, she was wrong to doubt her brother-n-law or Gage. “Jayce really does get everything he wants, doesn’t he?”
“Jayce works incredibly hard for everything he gets, and the only thing he ever really wanted was Tatum,” Gage qualified. “I’ll have your bag sent to your room, unless I can still make one more plea for you to return with me.”
“Gage, you act as though it’s a life or death situation if I don’t live under Jayce’s roof. I’ve been alone for the past three months,” she explained exasperatedly. “Just because my divorce is now finalized, doesn’t mean I’m going to fall apart.”
“No,” he said, handing the paid bill to the server before helping her to stand. “But life has a way of creeping up on you, and if you thought finding Wilson in a compromising position changed yours, Molly, you’d be surprised to find what’s waiting for you around the corner.”
Gage kissed her cheek and they parted ways. “I’m starting a tab,” she told their server when Gage was out of earshot. “I need a table in the bar, preferably by the dance floor. Thanks.”
Three hours later, Molly thumped her glass on the tabletop, eyeing a bead of condensation as it slithered down the side. She couldn’t fathom the outrageous beauty roaming the bar and dance floor, particularly the men. And since Molly could spot cosmetic surgery a mile away, she found it astonishing that none of these incredible looking men appeared surgically enhanced. It seemed she was the only one around who’d gone under the knife. Repeatedly. Over the past two years, every inch of Molly’s physique had been transformed for Wilson’s standards. Breast implants plumped a formally inadequate chest. Liposuction vacuumed curves she happened to have liked, but Wilson had found them too dimply. And although she was merely twenty-five, facial peels had erased wrinkles not visible to the naked eye, yet Wilson could see each one of them just fine, wanted them gone.
She crunched a chip of ice between her newly applied veneers, hating the way her teeth gleamed under the bar’s strobes. Her parents had paid a small fortune for her braces, straightening her teeth, all for nothing. She sipped on her drink, gliding the crystal back and forth over her lips, remembering that painful chin implant she had added to improve a profile Molly hadn’t realized was lacking, until Wilson thoughtfully pointed it out. She’d been sick for weeks after that surgery, so he conveniently hired a nurse, since he’d forgotten about that San Francisco trip with his married law slash sex partner.
It seemed that the only natural thing left on her body was her strawberry blonde hair. Not good enough for Wilson, though, he had insisted that she stay waxed below the belt, even though she always surmised a neat trim suited her better. At least, hair would have been something natural, a small concession for a woman who felt completely unnatural in her own skin. Molly would be the first to admit that she looked like an exotic dancer slash Stepford wife. Imperfect perfection. If others took the time to get to know her, they’d spot her imperfections quickly enough. On the inside, she was a disaster, starting her life over again. But the disaster part was going to change very soon. Molly Shirley would never stay down and out.
“You’re a stripper, then?”
“Maybe.” Molly blinked a few times, her recent companion’s face blurring in and out of focus. She tossed back her next glassful, clenching her teeth on an olive and sliding the pick between her full lips.
He snorted. “I think you’re making up non
sense to scare me away. But I know that you want me more than you don’t.” A classic, masculine smile widened his mouth. “I can work with that. Shall we dance again, drink another round, or discuss what we really desire in private?”
“Another dance,” Molly agreed.
That mouth of his straightened into an annoyed line, but he stood, holding out an insistent palm. “Very well, dance and discuss, it is.”
“Dance o-only.” Was she slurring?
“Whatever you say,” he said a little too smugly for her tastes, but Molly followed him anyway. This one was another Ken doll. With golden hair, straight white teeth, and a well-placed dimple on his impeccably chiseled chin, he was ready to go from zero-to-sixty when she finally invited him between her thighs.
After pulling her a few feet into the swaying bodies, he moved against her to a slow beat, anchoring his palm on her lower back. His pinky grazed until it touched the cleft of her ass. Bringing her in nice and tight, he pressed an impressive erection against her stomach, circling it. Molly reminded herself that this was why she was here, breaking her moral code by losing herself with a stranger. For a few hours, for the entire night, she didn’t care, didn’t expect a hero either. Fairy tales were for suckers.
In her next breath, a cloudy haze dropped over her, and she instantly fought to clear her debilitating vision. Something was positively wrong. She noticed sounds were oddly muffled, yet the tingling of glass echoed sharply inside her head. Molly refocused on what’s-his-face in front of her, wrapping her palm on her forehead. “I don’t… feel right.”
“Liquid dinners don’t suit you,” he said. Reminding her why she should have eaten that chicken. Not to drink on an empty stomach was something she had learned in high school. “Sweetheart, I think you should come with me.” He kissed the side of her throat, and she could have sworn that something sharp pierced her. “The condo I own on South Beach would fit you perfectly, Molly. I would fit you perfectly.”