Reeling in Love

by Gloria Herrmann

  He’d called her earlier that day, telling her to be ready by six for dinner. She spent the afternoon prepping for the date, everything from shaving to plucking, blow-drying then straightening. She then skillfully applied the mask she could hide behind—eyeliner, mascara, shadow, blush…the works. Debating what outfit to wear took up a good chunk of time. Too much effort was required to look halfway decent and not like some troll under a bridge. If men only knew the struggles women faced getting ready to go out. When it was finally all said and done, she’d rather call the whole thing off and stay in.

  She was starting to pace in her apartment. That was where he wanted to meet her for the first official date of their week-long experiment. He was running a little late. Prickly self-doubt emerged. Maybe he had come to his senses and realized it wasn’t going to work out after all. Molly starting fluffing pillows and tidying up things she had already straightened only minutes ago.

  Then he was officially late and, at that point, a borderline no-show. Molly would wait a little longer, then off would come the makeup and bra and into the jammies she’d go. She was pissed. This was so unlike him. Then her mind started to unleash a flurry of images, a storm of worry. What if something had happened to him? She grabbed her phone and messaged him. Molly saw that he had read her message, so he wasn’t dead. Too bad, because now she’d have to kill him for putting her through this hell.

  That’s it, she finally decided after more time had passed. She’d waited long enough and went into her bedroom and got undressed. She wiped off the makeup. As she scrubbed it off gently, she felt herself grow angrier. All this effort for nothing and now she had to figure out what to do with herself for the rest of the evening.

  Her stomach growled out of hunger and boredom. Molly peeked inside her fridge. She hadn’t bothered going to the grocery store since she’d come back a few days ago. There was a head of lettuce. It was mildly yellowed and wilted, nothing that a little salad dressing couldn’t remedy. Her hair was now up in a loose bun. She was incredibly annoyed that she had worked so hard on making it sleek and sexy earlier, only to have it up and looking like a sloppy mess now. She padded barefoot toward her cupboards to see if there was an alternative to the less-than-appetizing lettuce. Sadly, her cupboards weren’t offering a lot of choices either. She heard her cell ring. It was probably Owen.

  Molly hastily grabbed it from her counter and was a little surprised to see it was Mackenzie calling. “Hey, Mac.”

  “Hey, yourself. How’s it going?”

  “Well, he’s a no-show. I’m just glad it wasn’t me this time that screwed it up.”

  “That’s so strange. I’m a little shocked that he would pull a stunt like this.”

  Molly could have sworn she detected something in Mackenzie’s voice that was a little off.

  “You certain about that?” Molly was hoping that maybe she could get Mackenzie to slip up.

  “Molly, give me a break.”

  Molly was about to make a nasty comment—her mood was ripe for it—when she heard her doorbell chime. “I’ll have to let you go. Someone’s here.”

  She took a deep breath and tried to cool down. As she opened the door, she saw Owen standing there with a lopsided, sexy grin, his arms loaded with all sorts of things. She realized right then that this had been part of his plan. Damn it. He’d even got her friends to go in on it.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. Molly was anything but amused or wanting to hear compliments fall out of his mouth.

  “Owen, please don’t.”

  “You’re ready, I see.” His gaze traveled up and down Molly’s body.

  She suddenly felt self-conscious in her pajama bottoms and Seattle Mariners T-shirt.

  “I love the Mariners.”

  “Nope, you can go home. I’m not playing games with you.”

  “This wasn’t a game. Yes, I’m a little late, but that’s because the pizzeria took a while for our order.”

  “A little late?” Molly could feel the anger rising in her voice.

  “You have neighbors, don’t you?” At her nod he said, “We should probably take this inside.”

  He had a point, even when she had all the right in the world to be upset with him. She didn’t want to cause a scene in her building’s hallway. He’d had the sense to nip that in the bud and keep them from getting into any kind of trouble.

  Once inside, she followed him as he went into her kitchen. He placed all the items he had been loaded with onto the counter. She could see pizza, a movie rental, and he was now removing some items from a grocery bag. Ice cream and a bottle of wine. She hated him because he could do no wrong. Even playing her like this, he’d still managed to be incredibly romantic and thoughtful. Damn him.

  He spun around and said, “You still wanna discuss this?”

  “Well…”

  “Where’s your bathroom?” He had a small plastic grocery sack wadded up in his hand. Molly had no clue what he was up to.

  “Over there.” She pointed at a door that was visible from the kitchen and living room. He brushed past her, leaving a kiss on top of her head as he disappeared inside.

  She took this opportunity to peek at the goodies he’d brought. She lifted the cardboard box of the pizza. It was half extra cheese and pepperoni on the other side. She’d probably only mentioned it in passing, but he had remembered she loved extra-cheesy pizza. Molly grabbed the ice cream, a fancy blend of everything scrumptious—ribbons of caramel, peanuts and fudge—and placed it in the freezer. She chilled the wine next. He really had thought of it all. Too bad she felt like a complete miserable slob. Where had he been when only about an hour ago she had been dressed cute, with amazing makeup and her hair on point? Now her face was scrubbed free of all the makeup, not even a trace of mascara was left on her lashes and she was wearing pale-blue flannel pajama bottoms and her well-worn and beloved Seattle Mariners shirt. And she didn’t want to start on her hair. So yes, she had every right to be upset. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to look good for him. Molly kept herself from giggling. He deserved her looking like this. It served him right. The problem was he didn’t seem to mind it one bit.

  Owen emerged from the bathroom wearing navy blue flannel pajama bottoms, a nearly identical Seattle Mariner shirt and a smug smile. Seriously? What are the odds? It had to be a sign, not just some coincidence. Maybe she needed to listen to what the universe was trying to tell her.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Molly slapped her forehead and laughed.

  “Right?” He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her gently against his chest.

  Molly could feel the strong muscle carved from hard work. He smelled of fabric softener and sunshine. She melted into his chest, letting her head rest on him. She could hear the beating of his heart.

  “Told you it was fate,” he said.

  Even Molly was starting to think he might be right.

  “Come on, you sexy thing. Let’s eat that pizza.” Owen released her, and she instantly missed the feeling of him, the absence of his strong arms and his scent.

  Molly reached for some plates on the tips of her toes. Short girl problems—kitchen cabinets were not designed for vertically challenged people. Owen came from behind her and grabbed two plates with ease. The sensation of him behind her and the roughness of his hands as they skimmed across hers to retrieve the plates caused her to sigh. She hadn’t even realized she’d done that until he commented.

  “What was that for?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Molly watched as he placed a large slice on each plate. He looked so comfortable in her kitchen, her space, her home and in her life.

  “The sigh, beautiful.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.” He held the two plates and was turning to go to her small table in what was hardly a dining room. Owen stopped and kissed her forehead. He had already kissed her several times, none of which were on the lips. Was this part of his plan, to drive her crazy? If so,
it was working brilliantly.

  “Table or couch?”

  “Um, wherever,” Molly sputtered, her mind was not focused on the pizza, but on the gorgeous man in his pajamas. She couldn’t help but wonder if this night might turn into a sleepover. Fingers crossed.

  “Well, we could sit on the couch and pop the movie in. Sound good?”

  “Sure.”

  “Let me pour us some wine, too,” Owen said, as soon as he’d dropped off the plates on her tiny coffee table. He hurried back to her kitchen.

  Molly got up to get the glasses, but he beat her to it. How did he even know where I keep them? Well, to be honest, there weren’t that many cabinets to choose from, so the odds were kind of in his favor.

  He poured the wine and held a glass for her to take. “Cheers,” he said and winked as he clinked their glasses together.

  Owen ushered her back to the couch, his hand on the small of her back. Molly had to admit this was all very nice.

  Tucking her leg under her, she grabbed her plate then bit into the slice. Her taste buds went wild with the burst of perfectly blended flavors. The sauce was the best ever. “This pizza is amazing,” Molly said as she tried to catch the gooey cheese with her mouth.

  “I’ve been going to this place since I was a kid. It still tastes the same after all these years.”

  “How did I not know about this place?”

  “Well, you do now. You’re welcome.” Owen winked at her and bit off more pizza.

  They chatted easily, discussing random things, everyday life stuff. They ate another slice of the best pizza Molly had encountered, and Owen poured them more wine. Molly was enjoying his company. She felt horribly guilty and was kicking herself for being such a bitch to him the last couple of weeks. He was total boyfriend material, if not hubby. He looked incredibly sexy in their near-matching pajamas. To think he’d done this on purpose, bringing everything for—quite honestly—the perfect date night. It was quite clever on his part to be intentionally late, knowing full well that she’d wipe the makeup off, be in her jammies and in her rawest, most comfortable, form. That was how he’d wanted her. She’d listened on as he explained why he’d done it, and she had to give the guy credit. He’d explained that they’d already done the get-dressed-up-and-go-out thing, but now he’d wanted them to experience what being a couple really could be like. She had to admit that it was kind of awesome, just hanging out like this. Molly could get used to it, and she realized that had been his plan. She was now curious as to what the next six days of this challenge would feature.

  Happily stuffed, Owen started the DVD. As the movie played, Molly wasn’t really paying much attention. He had wrapped his arms around her and they snuggled on the couch like they had been doing this for years. Owen would stroke her arm and sometimes run his fingers through her hair. She noticed he didn’t talk during the movie—nothing more than an occasional laugh—but he appeared to be fully engrossed in this comedy that he’d chosen for them. Molly wished she knew what the story was about, but her mind kept wandering. She felt herself relax and grow sleepy.

  The credits were rolling and Owen whispered, “Molly, wake up.”

  She’d fallen asleep—and not dainty, pretty sleep. She had slept hard and there was enough drool to prove it. She was horrified. She’d probably even snored, because no doubt the universe hated her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “It’s okay. You’re probably exhausted from your trip. I didn’t mind.” Owen was running his hand gently up and down her shoulder and side. She was nestled against him and never wanted to leave.

  Looking up at him, she took in the dark stubble covering his jawline and his dark-gray eyes. Simply put, this man was desirable. She slowly eased out of her position, slinking her way up toward him. Her hands splayed on his chest. She could feel the hard muscles right below the thin material of the cotton shirt, and instantly she wished it was off him. The next thing she knew, Molly had straddled Owen’s lap, her hands still flat against his chest. His hardness was growing between his muscled thighs. It was really turning her on. Her own arousal grew, deep in her core. He finally moved his hands to her hips, then up her ribs, brushing the sides of her breasts as he secured her to him. Molly looped her arms around his neck, desperate for contact, then she crushed her mouth down on his and pushed her breasts with their pebbled nipples against him. Mind-blowing was an understatement. Am I really supposed to see stars or feel like electricity is burning through me? Molly had never experienced anything quite like it, and she’d kissed enough frogs to know.

  She wanted more. She ground against him and drove the kiss deeper. He nipped at her lip gingerly, causing Molly to moan. God, she wanted him—needed him was more like it.

  Then he pulled away. When Owen gazed into her eyes, she could tell that he was holding back.

  At first she was mildly confused, dazed by the lust that was singeing her on the inside, her passion begging to be sated, but to see his restraint? It was beyond impressive. Molly was slightly jealous that he had the remarkably quick ability to spark such a flame in her, even if it was threatening to burn her alive with sexual wanting. She couldn’t help but feel a little glad as she watched him battle the same desire. She could feel the evidence that he wanted her the same way she wanted him. She knew that it was not part of his plan to lure her into this relationship. She guessed he knew that if he spooked her by moving too fast, he’d risk failing the week-long challenge. Did I turn the tables on him? The thought made Molly a little giddy.

  Molly almost laughed out loud when she saw him so conflicted. It was obvious he wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and show her how much more amazing their relationship could be. His eyes betrayed the level of lust he was feeling. She almost wanted to scream, ‘Just go with it!’ Wasn’t that the motto she’d been trying to live by? Apparently, that wasn’t his.

  “I’d better head home. It’s late.” He kissed her softly this time, teasing her as he tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, driving her mad. He had regained his cool. Damn him.

  It was time for her final attempt at seducing him, time to step up her game. “I don’t know if I can let you leave,” Molly cooed in his ear, licking his neck and nibbling on his ear.

  “Hey, you gotta buy the cow. No free milk here, sweetheart.”

  Molly pressed her forehead against his and smiled. Her desire diminished and the heat in her belly cooled, but she wasn’t upset. He was going to make her work for something that they both wanted. He was definitely not like any guy she’d ever dated. Bring on day two of this challenge!

  Chapter Twelve

  “So, how was it?” Mackenzie asked. She was sitting across from Molly and Tiffany at one of their favorite coffee shops.

  It was late afternoon, middle of the week, and Molly was telling her friends about the night before—day one of Owen’s week-long challenge.

  “Well, it really went great, actually, even though I was initially upset. Mackenzie, you knew, and I could kill you, by the way.” Molly laughed and took a sip of her coffee.

  “He told me not to say anything,” Mackenzie defended herself.

  “Uh, I’m your best friend. Owen isn’t.”

  Mackenzie shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s pretty nice and not nearly as cranky as you.”

  “Stop, you two, I want to know what’s next,” Tiffany added. “You guys got plans for tonight?” Tiffany’s eyes grew large with excitement.

  Molly was curious, too. After last night, she wasn’t certain what he had up his sleeve, but she knew now that she couldn’t figure him out. Never would she have thought he’d pull the stunt he had last night. First, pissing her off to a whole different level, only to have her wrapped around his sexy little finger hours later. This man had her world all mixed up and she was starting to enjoy the crazy ride.

  “I’m not sure, but maybe Mackenzie knows,” Molly teased and winked at her. Winked? Really? That was a total Owen move. Oh dear. He was really starting to rub o
ff on her.

  “I promise. I have no clue this time. But you have to admit, it was pretty cool.”

  “I was cute before he showed up. I had done my hair and makeup. All that hassle for nothing,” Molly complained with a smile on her face, one that had been there since she’d woken up that morning.

  “I love how happy you look,” Tiffany commented. Mackenzie nodded in agreement.

  “Gosh, what if this actually works out, guys?”

  “Molly, quit having doubts. I already told you that he’s the one.” Tiffany rolled her eyes in frustration. “I need a guy like Owen. Hell, we all do.”

  “He is pretty special,” she admitted. Day one of the challenge had been more than successful. She wouldn’t dare admit that to him yet. She wondered if he was also buzzing around like a joyful honeybee, just as she was. Molly was probably in one of the best moods she’d been in for a quite some time. She knew it wasn’t the delicious cold leftover pizza she’d just devoured for lunch, but the guy who’d brought it over.

  * * * *

  Owen smiled at her across the table—not just any table but an air hockey table. He’d picked her up from her studio and brought her to an old teenage hangout of his. The arcade was the last place she’d expected him to take her. The loud noise made it nearly impossible to talk. Instead, they expressed their competitive sides, battling each other at various games. First, it was shooting basketballs into a moving hoop, not a fine moment for Molly, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying to kick his ass at another game. That didn’t happen at the next one either, but when they stood in front of the skee-ball machine, she knew she had it in the bag. He groaned as her machine spewed out dozens of bright red tickets that could be turned in later for some goofy prize.