Reeling in Love

by Gloria Herrmann

  But even with her success, Owen looked at her across the air hockey table and said, “Now, I don’t want to brag, but—”

  Molly held up her hand and stopped him. “But you’re going to, right? Well, sir, I’ll have you know that much like that little ole skee-ball game I just beat you at over there”—Molly tilted her head in the direction of the line of skee-ball machines—“I’m really good at air hockey.”

  “Woman, I used to own this table. I beat every kid that challenged me. I got this, sweetheart.”

  “Do you now?” She sent the plastic orange puck sailing across and made a goal. “Looks like I just scored. And, babe, I’m not one of those kids.” Molly stuck her tongue out at him. “You sure it was this very table you owned?”

  He gave her a sexy grin and pushed the plastic puck past her as she tried to block it. “Goal.”

  They kept it up, back and forth, each trying to outwit the other, and even using flirtation as their ammunition and tool of distraction. Molly hadn’t had so much fun in a long time.

  “You ready to give up yet?” Owen asked as he hit the puck back to her.

  “Not on your life, buddy,” she answered, biting her bottom lip and concentrating hard on how to get it past him. Something must have worked because the next thing she knew, it slid into his goal. She’d won.

  He groaned, but not the way it sounded when someone lost. It had a more hungry and primal tone. “Why’d you have to do that?”

  “What?” Molly asked innocently. In all actuality, she had no idea what he was talking about.

  He came around from his side of the table to hers. He snatched her, bringing her to him. “This.” Owen bit her bottom lip softly.

  Oh, that.

  “I think I like it a lot better when you bite my lip than when I do.”

  “Me too.” Owen wasn’t in a hurry to let her go and Molly didn’t mind one bit.

  * * * *

  Day three of his silly challenge was taking them on an adventure. On the way home after their date the night before, he’d told her to take the day off but to bring her camera.

  The entire morning she’d felt as if she were floating on air. The sun had been shining brightly, not only on the gorgeous city of Seattle but on Molly as well. When the time came for Owen to pick her up, she almost couldn’t contain her excitement any longer.

  He drove them to the harbor. Rows of boats of different sizes and varieties bobbed on the dark water. Now she wasn’t so thrilled. As much as Molly adored the ocean, the waves of the open sea didn’t agree with her tummy and the very thought made her clench her mouth shut.

  “You don’t like boats?” Owen asked as he held her hand and led Molly along the wooden dock.

  “It’s not the boats so much as it’s the water.”

  “You get seasick?”

  She nodded and began to grow queasy when they stopped by an enormous boat.

  “She’s the smoothest float on the water,” he tried to reassure Molly.

  “It’s not her I’m worried about,” Molly laughed nervously, begging her stomach to settle down.

  “I have some motion sickness pills aboard. We’ll get you taken care of.”

  Molly didn’t move as he tried tugging her hand.

  “I promise, sweetheart. You won’t get sick—not on my watch.” His gray eyes were light today. Mischief twinkled in them, and, somehow, Molly believed him and they cast off.

  Dang if he isn’t right again. His boat seemed to be gently cruising along the ocean waves that curled with whiteness and pounded brutally against the sides. She looked back. Seattle had disappeared, and only ripples of dark blue surrounded them. As they ventured farther out, Owen pointed out the shadowy glimpse of the fins of several killer whales that were swimming in the distance.

  Owen even let her steer the large wooden wheel, but she was much more comfortable watching him look incredibly sexy as a captain. Molly snuck a few shots of him with her camera when she was fairly certain he was busy navigating or making sense of all the dials, compasses and knobs that were in front of him. At one point on their voyage, she begged for him to wear a cap so she could see him fully in the role. He obliged her, doing several silly poses, and she almost regretted asking him, because now she wanted nothing more than to see him with only the captain’s hat on and nothing else. Her mind had been in the gutter all day. They’d exchanged sexual innuendos the entire trip, only fueling the brewing tension and the heat she was getting desperate to quench. All the sweetness had been fine and dandy, but she needed more. Again, she couldn’t help but think that it was all part of his plan.

  He sailed them to a small island, anchoring them and preparing a smaller boat to take them to the shore. Molly watched him work. He was a seaman through and through. He knotted and untied ropes with a speed she hadn’t known was possible. He was skilled, moved quickly and was light on his feet. This man was a sailor. The ocean was his. Somehow, Molly couldn’t escape the thought that she was his also.

  He’d packed a scrumptious dinner of cheeses, fruits, crackers and, of course, wine. Molly was more than content with the idea of having him for dessert, but instead he had brought a mini cheesecake. After lounging on a blanket that was spread over the soft, warm sand, digesting the lovely food and one another’s company, Owen grabbed her hand and instructed her to bring her camera.

  They hiked along the shore. She snapped seagulls pecking at mussels, leaving the broken bits of purple shells scattered everywhere. The cliffs, covered with algae and salt-stained, demanded to be shot. Molly trained her camera on the simplicity of their astounding strength. These walls of stone had been beaten by ocean storms, carved by wind and rain and yet still managed to stand like ancient stoic giants.

  There was no one else around them. It was as though this was their island. The solitude and feeling of complete privacy was not lost on her. Owen scooped her up in arms, and in complete Tarzan style, threw her over his shoulder, causing Molly to squeal with delight. She liked this primal side of him, purely male, especially when he lowered her onto the sand and hovered over her, exploring her neck and collarbone with his mouth. She wanted his kisses to venture farther. She hungered for him to just take her right there, but that didn’t seem to be Owen’s style. Instead, he pushed her to limits that drove her to the brink of insanity and left her trembling with want. Somehow she knew that when he did finally give in and let her have him, it was going to be explosive and probably the best sex ever.

  After several more impromptu make-out sessions, a few where she was up against the stone walls with him grinding his impressive—and hard—length against her, having her mouth ravaged in ways that made her fiercely crave him, she was left breathless and wet with desire. Other times, he would pause in their path and kiss her right where they stood. Even just holding his hand and walking back to where they’d eaten earlier was romantic. Everything—every moment they shared that day—felt so completely right, like this man was meant to be hers.

  The wind was light and carrying the salty scent of the sea with it. The sound of the waves lapping against the shore was hypnotizing, and having Owen’s arms wrapped tightly around her was heaven. She couldn’t have planned a more romantic date. Owen had once again pulled out all the stops. But it was the way he’d done it that had made it so wonderful. He was anything but traditional, yet he was a complete gentleman. He’d shown her the natural untamed beauty of this island, shared in the serenity that it offered, and given her a glimpse of what they could have together. She didn’t need to complete the rest of the week to tell that being with him would be something special.

  * * * *

  “Okay, if you don’t want him, I do,” Tiffany exclaimed on Friday night as they all snuggled on Molly’s couch.

  “Did he say when the next date was? We obviously got you tonight.” Mackenzie smirked and took a long swig from her beer bottle.

  Molly held her bottle loosely between her fingers, enjoying the coolness of the glass against her skin. She wasn�
�t quite ready to admit to them that she was pretty certain she was in love with him. It was as though Molly wanted to savor that morsel, her own cherished secret.

  “Well, we are halfway through his little challenge. I’m sure we’ll probably see each other tomorrow.” A sliver of Molly wished she were with Owen right then instead of with her besties. She’d never in all of her relationships felt that. She’d always picked Mackenzie and Tiffany over any guy, but Owen had somehow weaseled his way into her heart, occupying a large chunk of space. She actually missed him and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours.

  “Gosh, what do you think he’ll do next? That last date is going to be hard to top,” Tiffany commented.

  “I can think of a few ways he can top it.” Molly grinned and swallowed some of the bitter ale.

  “I think it may even have to do with him being on top of her,” Mackenzie joked, slapping Molly on her pajama-clad leg.

  “I’m not picky. I’ll ride,” Molly countered with a shrug.

  They all started to laugh, but Molly was dead serious. She needed Owen with such intensity that she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Him and his damn ‘not getting the milk for free’ crap. Granted, at this point she’d buy the whole damn cow.

  Her girls teased Molly all night while they enjoyed their drinks, carbs and movie. Thoughts of Owen and what would be next on his agenda kept creeping into her mind, even as they had their fun evening.

  Then the night was over and Mackenzie and Tiffany left. It was a little after midnight, another well-spent Friendship Friday. She was brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed when she heard the doorbell ring. Maybe one of the girls has forgotten something. Molly jogged lightly to answer it, her toothbrush dangling in her mouth with minty toothpaste threatening to drip out. She decided at the last minute to run to the kitchen sink and spit.

  “I’m coming,” she called out as another knock sounded from the other side of the door. “Gosh, what did you guys forget?” Molly asked when she opened the door, expecting to see Mackenzie or Tiffany, definitely not Owen.

  His hands were shoved in his jean pockets and he leaned against the door frame. “I know it’s late, but I couldn’t not see you today.”

  “Growing a little attached, are we?” Molly crossed her arms.

  He straightened up and moved closer, evaporating any space in between them. “Very attached.” The thickness of his voice, heavy and lust-laden, instantly turned her on. But that was nothing compared to the rush of sensation and instant swell of need that surged through her when he grabbed her by the nape and took possession of her mouth—hot, wet and demanding.

  Molly pressed her body hard against his. She could feel heat emitting from Owen. The doorknob was jabbing her in the small of her back but that didn’t bother her. She’d suffer to keep his lips on her. He stole her breath. Molly’s heart was beating a fast rhythm. It felt like a hummingbird was lodged inside her chest. Her heartbeats were matched by the throbbing in her clit. Only this man could make that happen.

  When they broke away, she asked in an airy voice, “Is this date four?”

  “Nope. This is just me showing you how much I missed you,” Owen sighed and took her in his arms, swallowing her up. “Oh, Molly, you have no idea what you do to me, babe.”

  “If it’s anything like the hell you are putting me through, then yes, I do.” She peered up at him.

  He lowered his gaze. “Please don’t look at me like that—not now, anyway.”

  “Why not?” She couldn’t help but push her pelvis a little harder into his. She hoped he wouldn’t be able to feel the wetness he’d caused in her jammies—or did she?

  “Because otherwise I won’t be able to stop, and we need to make it through this week, Molly,” he said, nearly groaning, but returning the pressure she held on him, grinding his hardness against her.

  “Who is to say that this can’t be part of the week-long challenge?” she asked hopefully, wandering her hand across his flat stomach. She needed to see him naked. She needed to feel his skin on hers. She needed to feel his hands all over her. She wanted to feel him inside her.

  “Because this week is to prove to you that we should be together.” Owen exhaled loudly and continued. “Besides, I want all of you, not just this, as amazing as that would be.” He ran his hands down her arms. “I need to know that you want there to be an us. Remember, you were the one that didn’t think we should be a couple?”

  Does he really need to point that out right now? Yes, it had been her that said that, but she’d also said a lot of other stupid stuff. Hopefully, he’d learn that soon. Mackenzie and Tiffany were used to it. He could always ask them for notes.

  With her body raging for fulfillment, she made one last attempt. She knew he’d probably say no, but it was worth a shot. “Do you want to come in?”

  “You’re the devil. I swear.” He shook his head and quietly muttered, “I’d better not. I just needed to see you. Hearing your voice wouldn’t have been enough.”

  Molly couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Knowing full well she’d see him tomorrow wasn’t enough to douse the sadness that was filling her and the emptiness that was still left inside.

  He stroked her cheek, moving his thumb slowly over her lips. “Good night, Molly.”

  He didn’t kiss her again because they both knew that if he did, there would be no turning back. They’d come to a fork in the road. They both knew there was something there between them. She couldn’t deny that any longer. Owen had never bothered fighting it. Owen had set out to prove to her that they were supposed to be together. That had worked fairly quickly, probably far sooner than he’d even realized. Molly knew deep down that no matter how much she’d tried to shove away her feelings for him in the beginning, they had always been there, and now, if she listened to her heart, it told her that they always would be. She’d thought that maybe she’d loved someone before, but as she watched Owen leave, turning back for one last look, she knew that this was truly her first experience at being completely in love. It scared and thrilled her, all at the same time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Coffee. That would be the only solution for how absolutely miserable Molly felt. She’d slept like crap, tossing and turning all night. She hated nights like that. She knew that seeing Owen just moments before she’d gone to bed had been the main culprit. He’d once again taken her to the edge of fulfillment and left her hanging. This sexual frustration was the pits, and here she was, wanting him and not at all as relaxed as she should be, as a result. It was still dark and way earlier than Molly wanted to be up, but what was the point of just lying there?

  She stared at the coffee pot with complete disgust. “Hurry up,” Molly shouted angrily at it. It sputtered and spat steamy dark liquid into the glass pot. It would have been quicker to just eat the beans and cut out the middleman—water.

  Molly wondered when Owen planned on calling her. She just needed to survive until Tuesday, the day when this dumb challenge would end. She had no idea that a week could both fly by and crawl at a snail’s pace. The one thing she was proud about was that she wasn’t questioning things like she had been. By letting herself truly ‘just go with it’, she’d found she had little doubt and she wasn’t overthinking things or creating worries out of nothing. Granted, Owen had made the last several days some of the best she’d ever had. He was special. There was no question. She even felt like she matched him pretty well. That realization was a first for her. She never had thought she was good enough for anyone, but they complemented each other nicely.

  But him leaving her last night? That had nearly shattered her heart. The want and pent-up desire was making her crack. It was why she hadn’t been able to sleep. She’d gone from being single in Seattle to being sleepless in Seattle. Molly sighed. Neither was good, and she was both.

  Turning her attention back to the coffee pot that had been slower than molasses at creating drinkable magic, she saw that her coffee was nearly ready. Her bright yel
low mug with the tiny chip was her favorite. It was large and held just the right volume of coffee, which was a lot. The freshly brewed pot had filled her apartment with its strong aroma. She doctored it with her favorite creamer, a spicy cinnamon and vanilla blend. Molly grabbed her mug and went to sit near the window to see what the Seattle weather was doing today. The first sip kissed her soul, warming her to her very core. Only coffee had that power—that first swallow that traveled down her throat, possessing her like the caffeinated demon that it was. Coffee owned her. It was that simple.

  She was finally beginning to perk up when her cell phone let out a piercing cry, destroying the calm and peaceful love affair she was engaged in with her coffee and newspaper.

  It was Mackenzie. Molly was curious what she wanted. Mackenzie was well known for sleeping in on the weekends, and after a week of dealing with kindergartners, Molly couldn’t blame her.

  “Hey,” Molly answered.

  “Hey, yourself.” Mackenzie laughed on the other end.

  “A little early for you, isn’t it?”

  Mackenzie was quiet for a moment. “It kinda is, isn’t it?”

  Detecting something strange about her voice, she asked, “What’s wrong, Mac?” Molly grew nervous and took another sip of coffee in hopes of calming herself. Was more caffeine really a wise solution?

  “Nothing really. Have you talked to Owen yet?”

  “No, why?” Now Mackenzie had Molly’s undivided attention.

  “Well, it’s about his plans with you tonight.”

  “Mackenzie, spit it out,” Molly commanded.

  “Okay, okay. He thought it would awesome to have you both come over to my place for dinner.”

  “That’s it?” Molly wasn’t upset but maybe a little disappointed. She didn’t feel like sharing him with her friends, but, then again, it was important that they all got along. But these special dates were exactly that—special—and it was nice spending that time with him alone.