by Liz Kelly
Josh watched them go. “Are they really gonna do that? Write it out fifty times?”
“Are you fucking nuts? Of course they’re not gonna do it. I just wanted to get my point across.”
Josh laughed. “Tell me about that DuVal girl. The cute one. Why’d you classify her as off limits?”
Vance shrugged. “I’m friends with Lolly, one of the many, many DuVal cousins running around Henderson. My father is marrying Lolly’s mother, Genevra, so I’m feeling a bit protective about all the ladies DuVal right now. And there are a slew of them, I tell you. Lolly worked me up a cheat sheet so I’d be able to figure out who was who at the wedding.”
Vance walked over to his desk, grabbed up a sheet of paper, and read. “The DuVal cousins from oldest to youngest. Molly, Lilly, Lucy, Jacey, Lolly, Linley, Vivi, and Tinley. That does not include the one shining DuVal Y chromosome, Henry, who is a starter on my baseball team.”
“I hear he’s got a good arm and can run fast.”
“Yeah, yeah—no. Don’t even think about him. You and your crazy computer generated plays are not going to lure my pitcher into a head-bashing, concussion-producing, bone-breaking sport so that he’s sittin’ on the damn bench come spring.”
“Not much of a football fan, are you?” Josh asked.
“Absolutely love it. Just tryin’ to protect my championship-winning baseball team.”
Josh chuckled. “There’s a lot of statistics in baseball. Maybe I can find a way to help out your team this spring.”
Vance looked up, pleased. “Maybe you can at that.”
“And being as you are close to all those DuVal ladies, maybe you can do something for me.”
Vance looked skeptical. “What would that be?”
“I want you to fix me up with the wild one. That first one. The oldest.”
“Molly?”
“Yes, Molly. She won’t remember, but she was sweet to me back in high school when I came over to compete with Henderson High’s It’s Academic team.”
“Molly DuVal was never on any academic team,” Vance assured him.
“No. But when I got the directions to the auditorium wrong, she noticed. She introduced herself and showed me the way. Even wished me good luck.”
“You remembered her? From that?”
“A pretty girl, payin’ attention to me? Of course I remembered her.”
“Trust me, even if she still lived in town, Molly DuVal is not your type.”
“Perfect. Because I am no longer interested in my type. I’ve dated a lot of my type. Nice physics majors, brilliant mathematicians, and pretty little bookworms. None of them made me want to take them apart to see how they work, if you get my drift. These last few weeks have woken me up to a piece of myself I didn’t realize existed. I like being social. I like being a part of a team, and I like taking charge. I like contributing and getting feedback in the form of a high five. Who knew? Being one of the assistant coaches has made me realize I need to get out more. Because if I can find a reason to enjoy being around a bunch of sweaty, grunting, musclebound jocks, I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of other stuff outside my computer lair I’m going to enjoy, too. You’re Vance Evans. You know a lot of women. Introduce me to one who is willing to sneak into a locker room and let me chase her around the equipment.”
Vance choked out a laugh.
“What?”
“You sure know how to pick ’em.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Molly DuVal crawled all over me back before I even knew what a hickey was, much less what to do with all those soft, round, sweet-smelling parts she was pressing up against me. She will be the one taking you apart, and there is no guarantee she’ll bother putting you back together.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Josh said. He felt the big grin splitting his face at the same time a part of his brain was blinking tilt.
Vance scrutinized Josh as he rubbed a hand over his jaw. “The fact is I sort of had a hand in Molly moving out of town a few years back. Lately I’ve been feeling a little guilty about that, so I’m not willing to do all that much here. However, there is a high statistical probability that she will show up for her aunt’s wedding two weeks from Saturday. What I can do is get you on that guest list. I’ll point her out during the reception. There will be a band, food, and alcohol, along with a lot of flowers and a very romantic setting. Whatever the hell happens after that is all up to you.”
Josh licked his lips. “Done.”
Chapter Three
Molly DuVal stood tapping the engraved wedding invitation against her fingertips. She ran a thumb over the lovely loopy handwriting covering the attached sticky note.
Molly, it would mean the world to me if you were able to attend. I’ve spoken to your father. He is eager for your attendance as well.
Love, Aunt Gen
Whether Aunt Genevra had spoken to her father or not, Molly had no intention of missing her aunt’s wedding. She’d been missing out on way too much over the last several years, and right now she was full-out missin’ every last one of the crazy DuVal clan—but most especially her cousins.
As much as her father hated her use of the word banned, after she’d made the rather spectacular but unfortunate choice of breaking off her engagement to Tyler Jackson by running away for a weekend with Vance Evans, he was the one who had strongly suggested that she move her gossip-feeding shenanigans outside of Henderson.
Far outside of Henderson.
She thought her father was merely being dramatic until the ultimate blow was handed down from Henderson’s upper crust. No doubt following the lead of Tyler’s grandmother, Evie Jackson, the secret society decided that Molly’s beloved cousin, Jacey DuVal, would not be invited to make her debut. Jacey, who was the girliest of all the cousins, was devastated and Jacey’s mother, Aunt Charlotte, was beyond consolation.
And it was all Molly’s fault.
Tearfully she’d agreed with her father, apologized to Jacey, Aunt Charlotte, and Uncle Jeb, and then snuck out of town.
Molly had been socially banned from Henderson, but not entirely exiled. She’d gone home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, participating in all the DuVal family rituals. Her parents, sisters, and cousins, even Jacey, were always happy to see her. But leaving the house and going out partying with them and her old friends over the holidays? Not a good idea, her dad told her.
And it probably wasn’t.
Because Molly knew herself well. Now that she’d been working and living in Raleigh for five years, she’d figured out a few things. Family and friends were just about everything. And most of hers lived and played in Henderson. Or at least, that is where they gathered from time to time.
Sure, she would arrange the DuVal-Cousins-Take-On-Raleigh Night each year. Molly, Lilly, Lucy, Jacey, Lolly, Tipi, Vivi, and Tinley would gather in her tiny apartment for drinks and dinner, catching up before heading out on the town. Standing back and watching her younger sisters and cousins take over the dance floor at The Charlie Horse or Solas made her wonder how she was the one with the bad rap. It certainly wasn’t like she was dragging a pack of wallflowers around town. Oh, she was happy to see them all having fun. She just wished she were still like them. Fun.
Because something had truly been crushed over the years since she was forced to move out of Henderson.
At first, her friends would come and spend the weekend. They’d go out and really raise hell on Fayetteville Street and Glenwood South. She wondered why she hadn’t moved to Raleigh earlier.
But then life started to happen. Everybody took on real-life jobs and the time between visits stretched longer and longer as everyone’s responsibilities increased. It wasn’t like Molly could reciprocate with the travel and make the drive home to Henderson to play. She had to wait for them to come to her.
Rent came due every month and not just for her apartment, but for the tiny artist’s co-op space and equipment she used to indulge in her crafts. Though she eventually made some n
ew and interesting friends through the artistic connections in town, it still felt lonely.
Her hours at the art gallery weren’t long, so she began focusing on her ceramics. Never one to do anything casually, she ended up spending a lot of time in quiet solitude, throwing clay. Eventually she started spending her extra cash on art supplies rather than club cover charges and drinks.
Perhaps that was the silver lining in all of this.
Because her pottery was now selling. And selling at outrageous prices from the gallery in which she worked. Which was really just a happy accident—because in a panic, Lana Bristol, the store owner, had strategically placed a few of Molly’s brightly colored, hand-painted, and glazed pottery pieces in the empty spaces when store merchandise was low. The crazy prices they’d slapped on her items were simply in keeping with the range the fine art store was known for. So when the first piece was purchased not two days later, Molly and Lana spent the afternoon in total shock, laughing over the sale.
The fact that patrons had the opportunity to meet the artist seemed to be a bonus and a selling point. After they conversed with Molly, they’d want her to sign the bottom of her piece with a Sharpie right next to her signature stamp. If they were purchasing it as a gift, they’d ask her to personalize the plate or vase with her Sharpie. Then they’d special order her pieces in certain colors and sizes, which Molly was only too happy to fulfill at a premium. And just when Molly thought things could not get better, calls began coming in from other art galleries in other cities, asking for information about ordering her pottery.
It was all quite thrilling. And so very, very lonely. Because no one she cared about had any idea this was going on. It just wasn’t something she could bring up to her starving artist friends. “Guess what? I made real money this month doing exactly what I love to do.”
No.
Nor had she told her long-distance friends and loved ones about her success. That she wanted to share in person.
But she had a plan. A plan to get herself moved back home. And Aunt Genevra’s wedding provided the perfect opportunity.
Chapter Four
Molly was a little flustered that the parking valet was at her door so quickly, opening it up and helping her out of her little truck. She’d anticipated parking in one of the many fields surrounding Hale Evans’ mansion. Apparently that wouldn’t do for Mr. Evans’ guests because everywhere she looked there were smartly dressed young men providing valet parking from the front door of the Evans’ estate, or readying golf carts to drive guests to the site of the outdoor wedding.
She asked for a moment, slipping off her worn out flip-flops and donning her emerald green heels. Then she grabbed up the pretty tulle overskirt she hadn’t wanted to wrinkle on the long drive from Raleigh. She wrapped it around her waist, fastening the satin emerald bow over her belly button. It was what turned the sexy, little body-hugging green dress into a lovely confection even old Evie Jackson would approve of. Between her poofy tulle skirt, her high heels, and the French twist she’d pulled her blonde hair into, her ladylike appearance could not be faulted.
Just like she’d planned.
The last thing she grabbed, in addition to her matching clutch purse, was the wedding gift she’d made especially for Aunt Genevra and her new husband. It was an original “Molly DuVal Piece,” which was starting to mean something in North Carolina, and there was only one like it. She knew her aunt loved to cook, so she hoped what was lying inside the large, beautifully wrapped, pizza box would suit her.
“Need help with that?” her sister Lucy said, snatching the box out of her hands. One look at her youngest sister made Molly want to melt with joy. They hugged around the box as best they could and were soon pounced on by Lilly, their middle sister, and Jacey and Vivi, their cousins.
“We are so happy you came,” one of them exclaimed, getting in on the hug. The five of them huddled together, jumping up and down with excitement over the wedding, over Molly being there for it, and over just being back together.
“I’m sure Lolly is with Aunt Gen, but where are Linley and Tinley?”
“Savin’ us seats, of course,” Lucy said. “Let’s squeeze into one of these golf carts and head up.” Lucy handed over Molly’s gift to one of the staff who stood at the front door for that very purpose, and then all five of them started to crowd onto a golf cart meant for three and a driver.
“Wait,” Molly said, balking. “Y’all go ahead. Lucy and I will take the next cart.”
“But why?” Lucy complained. “We can all fit. Here, just sit on my lap.”
Molly bit her lip, torn. There wasn’t anything she’d rather do than climb on board with her sisters and her cousins. But she knew it didn’t fit with her plans for the day. She couldn’t be seen arriving in a passel of silly girls, laughing too loud and having too much fun before the wedding even commenced. No, she had to look the part of the reformed party girl. Project the image that the eldest DuVal cousin had finally grown up and had her head on straight. There would be no sitting on laps today. Prim and proper were the keywords for this event.
“Y’all go on. We’ll be right behind you,” Molly said, grabbing up Lucy’s hand and dragging her to the next golf cart. She and Lucy arranged themselves in the back, and at Lucy’s expectant look, Molly confessed everything.
“I’m lonely, and I want to come home.”
“Thank God,” Lucy breathed.
“In order to do that, I have to show Daddy I’m over the running-around-with-boys thing. Today I want him and everybody else to see that I have matured and will no longer be fodder for the Henderson gossips.”
Lucy looked a little stupefied. “Well, that just sounds boring. I think I speak for the entire family and the rest of your friends too when I say we don’t want any dumbed-down version of Molly DuVal back. We want the real thing. Good Lord, this town is dying enough already. Please don’t change your spots to try to fit in. Just be yourself and breathe some life back into this place. Besides, Tinley is causing more trouble than you could have ever dreamed up, so…whatever…it’s all relative—literally.”
The two sisters laughed at that, holding on to the sides of the cart as they were transported up a steep hill to the beautiful football-field-sized tent glistening in the sunlight.
“Wow,” Molly said.
“It’s air-conditioned,” Lucy responded. “I swear Aunt Gen has fallen into a pot of gold with Mr. Evans. He’s better looking than Vance and sure knows how to throw a party.”
“I haven’t seen Vance since he helped me break my engagement.”
“Is that how we’re remembering it now? Vance helped you break off your engagement? Not that you ran off for one last fling with Mr. Great in the Sack?”
“You say tomato….”
“I’ll say anything you want as long as you move back to town and share an apartment with me. I am too old to be living at home.”
“Just run interference with Vance, okay? I’m not interested in picking up where we left off.”
“Yeah, well as I understand it, he’s now Lolly’s best friend and there is some chick from out of town he’s working hard to impress, so you’re safe there.”
“Good.”
Lucy hopped off the cart as soon as it stopped, but Molly waited for their driver to give her a hand down onto the grass. Luckily, there’d been little rain, so her heels didn’t dig into the ground. The two of them met up with their cousins and wandered down the rose-strewn aisle where Tinley and Linley held a whole row of seats for them. Right behind all of their parents.
It was the sort of spectacle Molly had hoped to avoid. Her mom and dad and her aunts and uncles fawned over her return to Henderson—right in the middle of everyone. There wasn’t one eye turned in another direction as Molly was embraced, kissed, and welcomed back with literal open arms.
So sue her. It felt good.
Chapter Five
It wasn’t long into the reception before Vance performed as promised, stealing two minute
s from his wedding duties in order to point out Molly DuVal to Josh. As if Josh hadn’t been aware of the woman the moment she’d stepped out of her girly little truck. He’d been at the right place at the right time to see what she was really wearing underneath that frothy skirt she was floating around the party in, looking like a damn fairy princess.
“Be bold,” Vance suggested. “She might look like refined sugar at the moment, but mention skinny-dipping and I guarantee she’ll have your butt naked and in the pool before all of these guests go home.”
“Really?” The thought completely intrigued Josh. “Is that something people actually do?”
Vance turned his entire body toward Josh. “What the—?” He shook his head and mumbled, “This will not do,” as he pushed Josh by the scruff of his neck ahead of him. Straight toward Molly.
“Molly,” Vance said without preamble. Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Welcome home. Here’s a little present from me to you. His name is Josh, and he just fell off the turnip truck. Now, I’ve got to go keep this party running smoothly, so I expect you two at the after-party around the pool. We’ll catch up then.”
He slapped Josh on the side of his arm and left the two of them at the bar.
“Molly, I’m Josh—”
“I know who you are, Josh McCourt,” the fairy princess said right before she ordered her white wine. “We met back in high school. On the breezeway at Henderson. I showed you to the auditorium so you could give us some sort of scholarly beat down.”
“I remember.” Josh grinned.
“Really?” She cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture, her green eyes flashing. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I’ll have a beer please,” Josh said to the bartender. Then to Molly, “Why would you find that hard to believe?”
She shrugged one shoulder as she picked up her drink and turned to go. “Because I did just about everything I could think of to get you to ask me out. And you didn’t.”