Not Just The Girl Next Door (Furever Yours Book 3)

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Not Just The Girl Next Door (Furever Yours Book 3) Page 13

by Stacy Connelly


  His eyes darkened like the North Carolina woods after a drenching rain, and Mollie knew if she wasn’t careful, she could lose herself in their mysterious depths forever. “I wasn’t sorry.”

  “You apologized. You said it was a mistake,” she reminded him, feeling the flush of humiliation rising in her cheeks.

  “I was apologizing for the way I kissed you.”

  As far as Mollie was concerned, the amazing, soul-stealing kiss was nothing to apologize for. “I don’t understand.”

  “I practically attacked you.” This time, embarrassed color flushed his cheekbones, but Zeke being Zeke, he held her gaze despite his discomfort. “That’s not what a first kiss should be, but the second I touched you, I just—went a little crazy.”

  Zeke was the most controlled person Mollie knew. The idea that she could make him lose that control, even for a moment, was as heady and powerful as that first kiss. “Crazy can be good.”

  He gave a low groan. “Mollie, you know this will only complicate things.”

  Ignoring his warning, she rose up on tiptoe. Still not tall enough to reach his mouth, she brushed her lips against his chin. The slight friction of stubble against her skin had Mollie going weak in the knees. “I want to kiss you again. What could be simpler than that?”

  “I’m not going to want to stop at kissing.” The raw intensity of the words threatened to turn her muscles to jelly. “And that’s where things get complicated.”

  “I won’t want you to stop, either.” Mollie had never been so bold or acted so recklessly, only the thought of making love with Zeke didn’t feel reckless; it felt right. “So, now we’re back to simple.”

  Cursing beneath his breath, he closed his eyes as he bent to press his forehead against hers. “I swear, Mollie, you are so—”

  “What?” she whispered.

  “Stubborn. Hardheaded. Frustrating.”

  Not exactly flowery praise, but considering she’d thought almost the same about Zeke the day of the picnic when she’d been dying to kiss him, Mollie decided not to hold a grudge. Especially not when he lowered his head to claim her lips.

  As if trying to make up for whatever he felt that previous kiss lacked, this one was sweet yet seductive. Tempting yet tender. Endless and yet over far too soon. All a first kiss should be...

  When Zeke finally lifted his head, his breathing was ragged. Boneless and aching, she could feel his struggle for control in the rock-hard muscles beneath her hands, see it in the battle in his green-gold eyes. “Mollie.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “This—you and me—this could change everything.”

  Trying for a casual shrug as she stepped out of his embrace, she said, “It wouldn’t have to.”

  He pinned her with an intense look that silenced her before she could suggest anything as foolish as friends with benefits. “I think it would be...wise to take things slow.”

  Slow? Slow! It had taken him twenty flipping years to kiss her! At this rate, she’d die of sexual starvation before he ever attempted second base. “And you think I’m frustrating,” she muttered, kicking at a loose rock along the path.

  He chuckled at that, relaxing some of the tension pulling so tightly between them and easing Mollie’s worries. The shared laughter, so much a part of their relationship, proved as nothing else could that no matter what changed between them, they would always be friends.

  “Don’t forget hardheaded.”

  “And stubborn,” Mollie added with a cheeky lift of her chin. All of which was true. She didn’t give up, and now that Zeke had kissed her, now that he’d admitted he wanted her, she had even more reason to hold on to the hope that had lived in her heart for so long.

  “All right, we’ll take things slow, but first I have a favor to ask.” She had to chuckle a little at the wary look in his eyes even as heat pooled in her belly. What exactly was he imagining her asking of him? Licking her lips, she watched his gaze drop to her mouth. “I was wondering if you would, um, help me hang that shutter?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Once Mollie explained why she’d gone up on the ladder in the first place, Zeke had made his own inspection of all of the shutters. Years of exposure to rain and sun and the recent tornado had done their damage. “No sense in rehanging one if the rest are all about to come loose,” he’d determined.

  He’d offered to accompany her to the home improvement store. Between Mollie’s typical stubbornness and her not-so-typical but recent tendency to avoid him, he half expected her to refuse. She’d surprised him by agreeing, though she insisted her vehicle was better suited for hauling the necessary woodwork.

  Zeke didn’t care that she wanted to drive. Hell, he would have walked barefoot if that’s what she asked him to do. Crazy to be looking forward to a trip to the huge hardware store, but as he buckled in and caught Mollie’s wildflower-fresh scent mixing with the warm summer air streaming through the windows, he knew the destination had nothing to do with the anticipation humming along his nerve endings.

  It was Mollie. Spending time with her. Hanging out like they used to.

  But he wasn’t used to sneaking glances from the corner of his eye at the wild curls she’d caught up in a high ponytail, revealing the elegant length of her neck and the delicate curve of her ear. He took in her feminine profile, following the slope of her forehead and the upturned tilt of her nose, lingering on the curve of her lips, smiling at the stubborn lift to her chin.

  Did he really think he could turn back time to the way things used to be, with the taste of her on his lips and the memory of her curves pressed against him heating his blood and hardening his body? Did he really want to?

  “So, what made you stop by, anyway?” she asked as she backed out of her driveway. “Don’t tell me you have some kind of warning signal that goes off anytime I attempt a home improvement project on my own?”

  He chuckled at that. “No, as far as I know, there’s no such thing. Unfortunately.” He waited for her to make a face at him before adding, “I thought, you know, with Bobby adopting Charlie that you’d be missing her.”

  “You came by to cheer me up?” she asked with a touch of surprise.

  “Yeah, well—” He shrugged a shoulder, the faded gray Georgetown University T-shirt he wore suddenly feeling tight. What are friends for?

  The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t say them. Not when the flippant remark would only hurt Mollie, and not when he was starting to face the fact that his feelings for her were so much more than mere friendship.

  Instead, he said, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m all right. I’ve got Arti and Chief.”

  And him, Zeke thought. She had him.

  As Mollie headed toward town, driving well under the speed limit, she scanned the trees and brush lining either side of the road. Her caring and compassion never failed to amaze him. “I’ll help you set some traps when we get back.” He knew she wouldn’t rest easy until the small stray was warm and safe with a home of its own.

  Mollie shot him a grateful smile, one that had as much to do with how well he understood her as it did with his offer of help. “Thank you, Zeke.”

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Slanting him a puzzled glance, she asked, “What?”

  “Saying yes.”

  Her reddish-blond brows rose in challenge before she turned her attention back to the road. “You’re the one who keeps saying no,” she reminded him.

  * * *

  An hour later, Zeke and Mollie had loaded a flatbed cart with the shutters, along with gallons of primer and paint Mollie picked out. He was surprised by how quickly and easily she’d selected the color. The last time his mother wanted to redecorate, the living room wall had looked like a Jackson Pollock painting for at least a month as she’d dabbed dozens of different colors over the surface, waiting f
or the right shade to “speak to her.”

  Evidently forest green spoke much more quickly to Mollie.

  “We’ll prime and paint the shutters first. Way easier to do that on the ground than twenty feet in the air,” he said as they maneuvered between towering rows of paint rollers, brushes and trays. “They’ll look great once we get them installed.”

  Mollie mumbled something as she pushed the cart toward the registers at the front of the store. The rumble of squeaky wheels over the concrete floors must have affected his hearing, as all he caught was something about pigs. “What was that?”

  Mollie sighed. “Something my mother said when I decided to paint the kitchen cabinets rather than tearing them out and updating the whole kitchen.” Perfectly mimicking her mother’s sugary-sweet Southern accent, she said, “‘Honestly, Mollie, painting those old cabinets is like putting lipstick on a pig.’”

  Reaching out, Zeke caught the crossbar, bringing Mollie and the cart to a sudden stop. “Hey.” Unconcerned about the stream of customers heading up and down the aisle, he said, “I’m the one who told you to keep those cabinets in the first place, remember?”

  Original to the house, the cabinets were made of real wood, built to last with tongue-and-groove joints and far more character than anything the home improvement store had to offer.

  “I know, but you know my mother. She thought I should hire one of her decorators to redesign the whole space.”

  Georgia McFadden put his own mother to shame. He didn’t know how many times over the years Mollie’s mother had completely redecorated the stately home just a few houses down from where he’d grown up. The only thing that never changed was the collection of photographs and medals on the living room mantel above the ornate gray marble fireplace. A shrine that had been there long before Patrick passed away two years ago.

  “Don’t let her get to you.”

  “She doesn’t...not really,” Mollie insisted, but Zeke knew the words weren’t entirely true. Though she had followed her own dreams, it bothered her that her parents didn’t support her choices.

  “You’re amazing, Mollie. Don’t ever forget that.”

  “I thought I was stubborn and headstrong and frustrating.”

  “Like I said. Amazing.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close for a quick kiss in the middle of the paint aisle. One that felt so natural and right, he wondered why he hadn’t been kissing Mollie for years.

  Because for years, all you dreamed about was kissing Lilah, and look how that turned out when you finally got what you wanted. Zeke tried to ignore the annoying nudge from his conscience, but he couldn’t deny how badly that relationship had ended for all involved. If he messed things up this time, he wouldn’t have to worry about his parents losing a friend or about himself losing a fiancée.

  He could lose Mollie. As a friend, as a lover, as the one person he counted on more than anyone in the world. All of which made him wonder if he knew what the hell he was doing.

  “Hey.” Reaching up, she ran her fingers along his jaw. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, there’s, um, a register opening up over there.” After making it through the checkout without giving in to the urge to kiss Mollie again, Zeke wheeled the cart outside. “Why don’t you bring the SUV up to the front of the store so we don’t have to push this thing across the lot?”

  As Mollie jogged across the asphalt, the late afternoon sun caught the golden highlights in her hair. Her cutoff shorts and Best Friends T-shirt showcased her toned arms and legs. More than one male had turned in appreciation on their way into the store, and Zeke had wanted to knock a couple of heads together for what they were thinking...which was exactly the same thing he was thinking.

  Look out for her, would ya, Zeke? You know she likes to think she’s tough, but she’s all heart. And I don’t want to see hers broken.

  That was the last thing Zeke wanted, too. Especially if he was the man to do the breaking. His hands tightened on the cart handle at the thought. He’d already had one failed engagement and—

  “Zeke? I thought that was you.”

  He turned, slightly incredulous, at the sound of the familiar voice. As if somehow summoned by his memories, Lilah Fairchild stood a few feet behind him. Crap. If his thoughts were going to suddenly start materializing out of nowhere, why the hell couldn’t he have been thinking about pizza and beer?

  “Lilah.” Over two years had passed since he’d last seen her. With her long blond hair, ivory skin and dark blue eyes, she was as beautiful as ever. But compared to Mollie’s warmth, her fire and passion, everything about his ex left him cold.

  Dressed in a figure-hugging off-the-shoulder black knit blouse and leggings, she sashayed closer. “I suppose you already heard I was back.”

  Zeke nodded. Bad news travels fast... “I’m sure your parents are happy you’re home.” And maybe now they’d stop acting like he was the evil ex who’d run their little girl out of town.

  “And you, Zeke?” Her bright red lips formed a slight pout. “Are you glad?”

  The question was enough to make him want to laugh, but he wouldn’t have said the reaction was from gladness. Instead, it was out of a sense of relief. If nothing else, seeing his former fiancée again gave an answer to a question that he hadn’t realized until that moment had been lingering in his mind.

  He was officially over Lilah Fairchild.

  “Look, Lilah, I’ve got to go. Mollie’s waiting for me—”

  “Mollie?” Crossing her thin arms, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You’re with Mollie? I thought she was seeing some other guy.”

  “How did—You know what? Never mind.” He didn’t care how Lilah knew about Mollie’s date with Josh Sylvester, but he sure as hell didn’t want to talk to Lilah about it. “Yes, I’m here with Mollie.”

  Lilah had always resented their friendship. She’d insinuated that there was something more than friendship between them, and like a fool, he’d been flattered by her jealousy. Now, though, he wondered if she hadn’t picked up on a deeper awareness that he was only starting to acknowledge.

  “Zeke, you should know—”

  Lilah’s words cut off as the automatic doors swooshed open and two guys wheeling out large sheets of plywood rumbled by with a couple of laughing teenaged boys jostling each other in their wake.

  “I need to get going.”

  Lilah caught his arm before he could make his escape. The contrast of her hand—soft, slender, with perfectly French-manicured nails and a gold watch draped over her wrist—with Mollie’s was as different as the emotion her touch elicited. When Mollie touched him, he wanted her to hold on and never let go. With Lilah, it was all he could do not to shake her off like something creepy-crawly had landed on his skin.

  “We need to talk,” she was saying, “about our engagement and how everything...ended.”

  Not long ago, Zeke would have given anything to have that talk. To finally understand what went wrong. Even now, a part of him still wanted to know. To learn what he’d done so he could move on, secure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

  “You left, Lilah. End of story.” Ignoring the locked wheel, Zeke gave the cart a strong shove and sent it rumbling across the asphalt. He didn’t care if he looked like he was running away.

  Lilah Fairchild was part of his past, and he was finally leaving her behind.

  * * *

  Before Mollie had a chance to back up in the crowded parking lot, Zeke wheeled over with all her purchases. “Hey.” After shutting off the engine, she jumped out of the driver’s seat and circled around to the back of the SUV. “I thought you were going to wait for me.”

  “Yeah, well...” Leaning against the cart’s crossbar, his handsome face twisted into a wry grimace. “I had to make my escape while I could.”

  She laughed as she lowered the back h
atch for him to load the shutters and other supplies inside. “Escape? Give me a break,” she said as she reached for one of the gallons of paint. “You could spend days roaming around that store.”

  “Not while Lilah’s inside.”

  The metal pail slipped from Mollie’s fingers and landed with a thud. “Lilah?”

  “Yeah, pretty much the last place I thought I’d see her, although I suppose I was bound to run into her sometime.” The muscles in his arms flexed as he tossed the shutters into the back with a little more force than necessary. “Spring Forest’s too small for us to avoid each other forever. Unfortunately.”

  Remembering what his ex had said about looking him up, Mollie muttered, “Especially if Lilah isn’t looking to avoid you.”

  “Hey, I meant what I said at the barbecue. I’m over her. Seeing her today proved that like little else could.”

  “What—what did she have to say?”

  Zeke shook his head as he swung the last of the paint into the back of the SUV. “She said we needed to get together and talk.”

  Mollie swallowed, her voice a mere croak as she asked, “About what?”

  “About our breakup.”

  Oh, God... After all this time...why? Why now? Mollie jumped as Zeke slammed the back of the SUV closed, her nerves suddenly raw and exposed...vulnerable. “But that was years ago,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I told her. I mean, there was a time when not knowing why Lilah left ate me up inside but—what does it matter now?” he muttered as he thumped the side of his fist against the closed hatch.

  It mattered. To a man like Zeke, of course it mattered. He wanted to know everything. He was the only person Mollie had ever met who read the directions through in their entirety before starting a project. He loved doing research when it came to fixing things around her house and going online to discover what it would take to train a service dog for Bobby.

 

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