by Liz Kelly
Molly knew her heart was beating, because she could hear it echoing loudly in her ears. Felt all of her pulse points pounding. But she wasn’t breathing. No air in and no air out. Just the lone heartbeat as she digested his gentle words. Most guys liked her because she was a party girl and wasn’t afraid to get naked. No one, except her father, had ever commented on her kindness.
“I didn’t have the courage to sneak a pretty girl into the locker room back then,” Josh continued. “But I do now. So I started thinkin’ maybe I could convince the infamous Molly DuVal to let me chase her around a bit.”
She laughed, grateful for his segue. Hoping to cover the bit of emotion she was trying to choke down. She lightened it up further by saying, “What’s in it for me, exactly?”
Josh spread his arms wide and gave her an expression of disbelief. “Come on. Now that Hale Evans is off the market, I’ve got to be the—what?—twenty-third most eligible bachelor in Henderson.”
Molly felt herself beam watching his antics. Felt like she was glowing from the inside out. Hot Poindexter had it all going on, and from his expression, he knew it too.
Hmm.
Molly started taking the pins out of her hair. Letting her French twist fall into wavy curls down her back.
She saw a stricken look cross over Josh’s face. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Letting my hair down.”
“I see that,” Josh said as he moved in closer. “Why now? Why here?”
Molly shrugged and grabbed his hand, leading him back toward the tent and the party that was starting to rock hard. “It’s a metaphor. One a smart guy like you ought to appreciate. Figured it was time for Molly DuVal the Rock Star to show up at her aunt’s wedding.”
“Oh, Lord.”
Molly stopped short. “What?” she asked, laughing at his pained expression. “You’ve been telling me all night you didn’t want any watered-down version.”
“True. But now—with your hair down, and you being…you again—I am bound to be faced with some stiff competition.”
“Now, what could you possibly be worried about?” She smiled, moving in to peck his lips. “After all, you’re the twenty-third most eligible bachelor in Henderson.”
Chapter Eight
Josh couldn’t say for sure whether Molly DuVal, Rock Star, actually showed up, since he’d never had the pleasure to see her in action. But the girl who danced, drank, and sang the night away with him was definitely rockin’ his world.
Taking her hair down was one thing—all kinds of shades of blond—it made his fingers twitchy wanting to grab hold of it and twirl her around. Then once Genevra and Hale left for their honeymoon, Molly kicked off her green high heels, making herself a full head shorter than him. Making her seem a little more real, a little more approachable. He liked that. A lot. And once the band quit, most of the guests began to head home, but Pinks and The Outlaw took over the stage with drums and a guitar, starting up the after-party. During that jam session, Molly’s tulle skirt went flying, and now she danced around him in what could barely be called a dress. He took to calling her Lady Godiva because her hair was practically as long as her hemline.
His worry over competition for her attention was short lived. She turned down all comers, and there were plenty. She focused her attention on him completely—unless her cousins were dancing together to some silly song they all needed to scream at the top of their lungs. That’s when he’d leave the dance floor to search out a couple bottles of ice-cold water.
Because they both drove.
And having Molly wind up incarcerated would put a real glitch in his plans to get her back in Henderson for good.
The night wore on. The caterers cleaned up and left. One lone bartender, Harry, in fact, stayed to take care of the fifty or so friends and family who wouldn’t let it end. Josh looked around but couldn’t find Vance to thank him for the invitation. So he went to sit next to one tired-looking Brooks Bennett while Molly circled up with the rest of the crazy DuVals and hangers-on on the dance floor. He handed Brooks a bottle of water, and the man seemed grateful for it.
“So,” Brooks said. “You got a thing for Molly?”
“Molly? Hmm, now which one is she?”
“Save it. It’s plain embarrassing the way you’ve been panting on her heels all night.”
“Says the guy who looks like he wanted to leave hours ago.”
“Touché.” They clinked water bottles.
“I do,” Josh admitted. “I have a thing for Molly. I want her to move back to Henderson.”
“You are preaching to the choir,” Brooks said as he opened the bottle and took a sip. “It’s starting to feel like my life’s mission is to get people to move back to Henderson.”
“How can I help?”
“Says the man from Oxford.”
“Oxford’s not going anywhere. I work here. I want the town to thrive.”
Brooks looked him over, skeptical. Then his face changed, completely. Finally, he leaned in and said, “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.”
“No “sure.” I’m asking you man to man. Can you keep a secret? Because this town has a problem with that sort of thing.”
“I’m from Oxford.”
“Well, all right then,” Brooks said, coming alive as he spoke. “Vance Evans and I have formed a team. A team with the sole purpose of brainstorming, researching, evaluating, and then implementing ways to bring more economic prosperity to this town. We’ve got a big idea brewing, but to pull it off, Henderson is probably going to need some Oxford land. Now, it could certainly benefit both towns and the surrounding areas. But Lord knows anything new and innovative, not to mention anything that requires working hand in hand with Oxford, is going to be a hard sell around here. Maybe if you were a part of the team you could shed some insight into the mindset of the key players over there. Help us think through the pros and cons of what we’re trying to do. You’re known to have a hell of a brain and mean computer skills. Hell, if you can make our football team look good, I’m sure there’d be plenty you could help us with.”
“I’m in.”
“You’re in? Just like that? No questions at all?”
“I have discovered I really like being part of a team. And it just so happens to be paying dividends tonight. You got a team—I want to be on it. I’ll do my best to contribute.”
“That’s great,” Brooks said before he was barreled into by a cute, young brunette. He threw his arms around her and regained his balance like the athlete he was. He kissed her quick and turned her around to introduce her to Josh.
“Nice to meet you, Lolly,” Josh said.
Lolly was breathing hard, glistening with sweat, and smiling big. She pulled some hair from her cheek and nodded. “Bring Molly to the pool. A few of us are sticking around for a late night swim.”
Josh bit back a laugh as Brooks shook his head and mouthed the words, “No…we’re…not,” over Lolly’s head.
“Thanks for the invite,” he said, smiling at Lolly. Then he stood up, spying Molly standing off to the side, watching him. He held out his hand, and she moved forward to take it.
That made him feel tall. Real tall.
They started walking toward her shoes, her skirt, her purse, and God only knew what else as the crowd around them hugged and said their good-byes. He was trying to figure out how this night was going to end when a hand landed on his shoulder.
Big Jim DuVal spun him around and held out his hand, saying good night. He looked over at his daughter and gave her a happy smile. “Two o’clock is a little late to be driving all the way back to Raleigh. How ’bout you sleep in your old room tonight? Stay and have some breakfast with the family tomorrow. Talk a few things out.”
“I’d like that,” Molly said. Then father and daughter hugged, and Josh could see that Molly fought to choke back some emotion.
They pulled apart, and Big Jim nodded to both of them before heading off to collect his wife. Molly gave
her mom a little wave from afar before turning her full attention on him.
“You moving back?”
“I believe I am,” she said, twisting right and left like a happy little girl.
“I’m glad,” he told her.
She wrapped the fairy princess skirt around her waist and fastened it. But she dangled her shoes from her fingers, along with her purse.
“Walk you to your car?”
“I’d like that,” she said.
The two of them crowded onto one of the last few golf carts, where Josh had the opportunity to meet her sisters Lucy and Lilly along with their dates.
No valets waited, but all cars and keys were accounted for, lined up in the Evans’ circular drive and on out toward the gate. The DuVal clan dispersed quickly, allowing Josh to forgo a trumped-up excuse to get Molly to linger with him. He wanted a few minutes alone.
They slowly walked, hand in hand toward her little truck. As they got close, it was obvious the thing hadn’t been washed in ages. He wondered if she’d mock his spotless Prius, now the lone car waiting off in the distance.
“So,” he said as they reached her door.
“So,” she repeated, turning to face him. Her smile was so big it made him smile right back at her.
He cleared his throat, taking up her other hand and raising both as he entwined their fingers, pressing palm against palm. “Molly, Molly, Molly.” He really did not want to let her go. “Tonight certainly ranks up there as one of the fastest nights of my life. It flew by. I don’t feel like I’ve had enough time with you. So, in case I haven’t made myself perfectly clear, I’d like to see you again.”
“Sounds like you’re declaring the evening over.”
“I think you know I’d like nothing better than to string it out, but seeing as your father is waitin’ on you to come home—”
“My father stopped waiting on me to come home a long time ago. Probably before he should have, poor man.”
There was his opening. And he was a smart man. Smart enough to know that when the woman whose hair you wanted to get all tangled up in gives you an opening, you walk through it—without hesitation.
So he stepped in and closed the distance between them, wrapping his hands in her hair. His face directly over hers, his focus solely on her lips. He didn’t know where the words came from, they just came out, quiet and rough.
“Then here’s how it’s going to work,” he told her. “I’ll hold on to your keys and your car stays here. When we get to my place, I’m in charge. Rumor has it you may be pretty quick at shedding your clothes, but tonight your clothes stay on until I take them off. You and I are taking it slow. I’ll get you to your parents before first light and make sure your car is in their driveway by the time you want to head back to Raleigh.”
“One question.”
“Yeah—no. No questions.” He leaned in and kissed her lips, but like she’d done to him earlier, it was just a quick peck. Their first real kiss was yet to come.
“Anything you need out of your car?”
“There’s a bag. In the back. And my flip-flops.” He took the bag while she dropped her flip-flops to the ground and stepped into them, leaving her heels in the truck.
“Keys.”
She reached in, pulled them from the ignition, and handed them to him.
“Ready?”
She nodded. He took her hand and off they went.
“You’re doing it again,” he heard her mumble.
“Doing what?” he asked, dragging her along.
“Making me nervous.”
He stopped dead. “I? Make you, nervous?”
She shrugged her shoulders together in a gesture that made her look small, cute, and vulnerable.
“I’m okay with that,” he decided, pulling her along to his car. He swung the passenger door open and seated her inside.
Once he got in, he started the car up and turned the radio down. If he stopped to think about what was going on, he’d be scared to death. The fact that he made Molly DuVal nervous evened the playing field.
He put the car in drive, reached over, and took her hand, holding on to it all the way home.
***
The tiny house Josh rented was stacked with books, CDs, games, game systems, laptops, monitors, computers, and computer parts. Molly took in the lone leather La-Z-Boy chair in front of the huge flat screen TV and said, “I take it you don’t entertain much.”
“Nope. And standing here looking at it through your eyes, I now see why. Probably need a couch. Maybe some bookshelves to store all this crap. Hard to believe I’m lonely when my place looks like this,” he joked.
Molly wandered toward the kitchen. “Trust me. Owning a couch and some bookshelves doesn’t ward off loneliness.”
“Don’t tell me a rock-star party girl like you gets lonely,” he teased, coming up behind her.
“Desperately,” she breathed.
She felt Josh smooth a hand down the back of her head. It soothed her as much as it heightened her awareness of him. She felt his warmth behind her and closed her eyes as he whispered in her ear. “That’s why we’re fast tracking you back to Henderson. Back to your people. Your lonely days are over.”
She let her neck fall to the side as Josh’s fingers combed her hair back off her shoulder. When she felt his lips drift along the side of her throat, she tried to remember if she’d ever been kissed like this. Simply. Slowly. Delicately. She relaxed into the moment. He had said he wanted to take charge, and if this was how he intended to do it, she was going to relish it.
She licked her lips. “What about you?” she asked quietly. “What about your lonely days?”
She felt his hand fist in her hair as he turned her face toward him. “I’m working on it,” he said, right before his lips captured hers. She smiled, parting her lips, and he took advantage by sliding his tongue in between. That first intimate touch—his tongue on hers—made her body sigh. Heat tingled up her cheeks and crept down her chest. She felt his hands pull her around, pressing her up against him in a way that was so much better than they’d managed on the dance floor. His hand splayed wide and possessively against the center of her back. She liked the feel of that. The feel of what it conveyed.
She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the slow, languid way he kissed. Like every tantalizing touch counted. Like he was coaxing her along, not rushing anything. Her body responded by letting go of tension, sinking into his torso ever so slightly, allowing his possession to grow. A contented hum slipped out, unbidden, as her mind started to tune itself down, drifting into a state of pleasure.
Josh’s fingers started with a gentle touch at her temple and then combed back through her hair. So sweet, so easy, that tingles drifted after them. She pulled back slightly, a dazed smile on her lips. She drank in those luscious dark-colored eyes, seeing a seriousness that hadn’t been there before.
“I’d like to take this into the bedroom,” he whispered. She gave a brief nod and bit her lip, dropping her gaze to the floor as he took her by the hand and led her down the hallway.
The giddiness just bubbled up out of nowhere. She tried to suppress it, but by the time she was standing before his bed, she couldn’t help but giggle. Hot Poindexter. After all these years.
“What?” Josh asked, sending his own little laugh back at her.
“Can you believe we are doing this? You and I?”
“If you are asking if I can believe that I’ve got Molly DuVal standing in my bedroom, then no. No, that I cannot believe.”
“Oh, I’m not just standing in your bedroom. I’m about to take off my clothes.”
“No. No, no, no. I’m about to take off your clothes.”
Whatever. Antsy just to have them off, Molly spun, twisting the length of her hair into a bun and holding it high so that Josh had access to the zipper of her dress. But that wasn’t where the next sensation came. No. She felt his fingertips at both sides of the curve of her waist, resting there. Waiting.
She felt them begin to tickle, begin to move, slowly trailing back and forth along the edge of her satin belt. A soft kiss landed on the exposed skin of her neck, sending tingles down from there to the points where his fingertips lingered. Those fingertips were a luxurious treat she hadn’t expected. Even through the fabric of her dress, her body relished his touch. So focused on the divine sensations, she hardly noticed when her tulle skirt disappeared.
The rich warmth of his voice rumbled gently against her ear. “I liked watching you flit around the wedding in all this puffy stuff. Made you look like a grown-up fairy princess. I kept expecting to see wings, because it certainly took me all night to capture you.” He nuzzled into her neck then, tickling her as he did. The skirt may have vanished, but his fingertips were back at her sides, moving in lazy circles at her waist.
His touch, she was discovering, was a unique and precious thing. Slow and easy. Sensuous even in its light playfulness. All of her focus moved to the sensations being created by his fingertips as they drifted slowly up and down her sides, feeling every tantalizing touch through the sheer fabric of her dress.
“You know the male mind can run itself off on some peculiar tangents,” he whispered as he caressed her. “All night, I just kept wondering, ‘If she’s wearing emerald from head to toe, what color is she wearing underneath?’”
Those fingertips made a lazy sweep across her back and finally up to the top of her spine. Keeping true to form, they dazzled even as they maneuvered the zipper slowly down her back. His lips added to her pleasure by trailing after his light touch, placing soft, slow, kisses on her flesh as it was exposed.
Her head fell forward as she reveled in his touch. For the first time ever, she was not in a race to get rid of her clothes. For the first time ever, wearing clothes just so they could be taken off—like this, with such poignant grace, such intense focus—made sense.
Josh.
His fingertips led his palms as they flattened across her shoulder blades and drifted into the space between skin and fabric. He pushed the dress from her shoulders and down her arms, leaving her exposed from the waist up, except for her pretty lace bra, which was not emerald green.