Maysen Jar Box Set

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Maysen Jar Box Set Page 57

by Devney Perry


  “I’m not stressed about the accident. It’s over. I’m fine. I feel lucky and really fucking happy to be alive. I wanted to meet with Lauren because you met with Lauren.”

  “I’m confused.”

  He stood and came around the desk, sitting on the edge. “The counseling appointment wasn’t for me. It was for us.”

  “Huh?”

  “I had planned to bring you along. For marriage counseling.”

  “We’re not married.”

  Finn shrugged. “Did you get my letter?”

  “Don’t change the subject. You want to go to marriage counseling with your ex-wife?”

  “Better late than never.”

  My head was spinning, and it took me a moment to let it all sink in. Finn wanted to go to marriage counseling with me. That was . . . odd. And incredibly sweet. “You want to go to counseling?”

  “I thought maybe we had some things to talk about, but it doesn’t matter now because I’m not going to meet with Lauren. I’d hoped I was wrong and paranoid about her being one of your mom’s spies. Guess I was right.”

  “Yes, you were. But that aside, thank you. The gesture of the counseling . . . I appreciate it.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Did you get my letter?”

  I shifted in my seat so I could pull it out from my pocket. “This letter?”

  “That’s the one.” Finn grinned. “What do you say? Have dinner with me Saturday? My parents already agreed to watch the kids.”

  “I have plans. Sorry.” I stood from the chair and walked past him toward the door. I wasn’t sure what was happening, with the counseling thing and the letter asking me out, but we’d already decided to go our separate ways. More than once.

  “Hold up.” Finn rushed to catch up as I walked through the kitchen. “What plans?”

  “I’m babysitting MacKenna and Brady so Poppy and Cole can have a date.”

  “Oh,” he grumbled. “Then how about Sunday?”

  “It’s a school night.”

  “Last time I checked, you’re not in school.”

  “We have two kids who are. They should be at home, getting ready for the week.”

  “My mom can come over and watch them there. They’ll be in bed by nine, just like every other night.”

  I went through the swinging door and behind the counter. “I’ll take over out here.”

  “Okay.” Poppy smiled and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Finn was standing at the end of the counter, his legs planted wide and his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll pick you up on Sunday at six.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because,” I hissed, walking closer to him so Randall and Jimmy wouldn’t hear. “We’re not doing this again.”

  Did he think I’d jump back into the affair we’d had before the accident?

  “I’ll repeat, why not?”

  “We’ve been down this path. Too many times. We agreed it was better this way, so . . . there.”

  “I changed my mind,” he declared. “I’ll change yours too.”

  Before I could come up with a retort, Randall interrupted us from his chair. “What are you two whispering about?”

  “Nothing,” I answered.

  “I asked Molly on a date.”

  “Finn,” I snapped, smacking him on the arm.

  “What? They’re going to find out anyway.”

  “And why is that?”

  He grinned. “Because after our date on Sunday night, you’ll be all smiles come Monday morning.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Finn

  “You’re taking me to Burger Bob’s?” Molly asked as we walked down the sidewalk along Main Street.

  I grinned and dropped my hand to the small of her back. “You still like burgers with extra cheese and extra bacon, don’t you?”

  “Duh.”

  “Then Burger Bob’s it is.” My smile widened as I opened the door for her. We both took in the restaurant, standing in the threshold for a long moment. I steered Molly to a high-top table along the far wall, one that would give us privacy to talk.

  It hadn’t been easy to convince Molly to come out tonight. She’d declined five more times the day she’d gotten my letter at the restaurant. But I’d stood behind the counter, asking over and over with my feet bolted to the floor, refusing to leave until she’d agreed to a date tonight.

  Finally, she’d huffed and said yes. Jimmy had clapped for us. Randall had glared.

  I’d picked up Molly twenty minutes ago. Mom had arrived early at my place to hang with the kids. She’d promised three times to adhere to their normal bedtime—but we all knew Kali and Max would get to stay up late on a school night.

  I’d knocked on the door with two bouquets of lilies in hand: one for Molly’s bedroom and another for the kitchen.

  She loved lilies. She said they made the house smell like a fairy garden. As I’d handed over my credit card to the florist, I’d realized it had been much too long since I’d bought her flowers. Molly deserved them weekly, and if this worked, if I won her back, she’d have them.

  Maybe by bringing her here to Burger Bob’s, to the place where we’d met, she’d remember that excitement. She’d relax and enjoy an evening out. As it was, she’d been tense on the ride over. She’d been quiet. But the greasy smell in the air, promising a good meal, would loosen her up. I was sure of it.

  I wasn’t planning on talking about anything serious tonight. This meal was all about spending time with each other. I wasn’t going to tell Molly that I was in love with her. I wasn’t going to tell her I wanted to move home and sell my place. I wasn’t going to tell her that we didn’t need to forget our past because I forgave her. I was working on forgiving myself.

  I wasn’t going to beg her to pardon me for all of the wrong I’d done in our marriage.

  Those declarations would come.

  Tonight, I wanted to soak up her smile and savor her laughter.

  Molly sat at the table first, tucking her purse underneath. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans that showcased the gorgeous curve of her hips. Her hair was down, falling across her bare arms and the thin straps of the gray satin and lace tank top she’d chosen—thank you, Mother Nature, for the unseasonably warm Montana October.

  Molly looked sexy as hell. It had been hard not to take her into my arms on her doorstep, but I’d resisted, biding my time for a good-night kiss later tonight when I dropped her at home.

  “You know what I love most about this place?” Her eyes roamed over the high ceilings, the wooden tables—years of scratches on their surfaces—and the plethora of frames with photos of Bozeman memorabilia adorning the walls. “It never changes. It always smells the same and feels the same. Since college, it’s never changed.”

  I stretched my hand across the table to cover hers. “Thank you for coming here tonight.”

  “You’re welcome.” She flipped her hand over so we were palm to palm. The hair ties on her wrist tickled my skin. “Why did you ask me on a date?”

  “You know the reason.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Why’d you pick Burger Bob’s?”

  “To remember. And to start again.” I wrapped my fingers around her hand. “There are other things in this room that haven’t changed since college.”

  “Like the grease coating the floor?”

  “No.” I chuckled then locked my eyes with hers. “Like when you’re in the room, you’re all I see.”

  Her cheeks flushed, her eyes darting to our hands. If she was going to say something, it got lost when two plastic menus were set down on the table.

  “Welcome, guys. What can I get you to drink?” the waitress asked.

  Molly and I each ordered a beer. As the waitress left to get them, I released Molly’s hand to scoop up both menus. “May I order for you?”

  “Yes, but I reserve the right to interject if you get it wrong.”
r />   “Wrong.” I scoffed. I’d memorized Molly’s cheeseburger order the night I’d met her. And I knew it hadn’t changed in fifteen years.

  The waitress appeared with our beers. “What are we having?”

  “Two burgers, medium well. Both with extra cheese and extra bacon. Fries with each. Side of ranch with hers. I’m good with ketchup.”

  My eyes flicked to Molly. Her chin dropped as she tried to hide a smile. Nailed it.

  “Okay.” The waitress collected the menus. “I’ll get this going.”

  “Cheers.” Molly raised her beer glass.

  I nodded, clinking the rim of mine to hers before taking a drink. “What are you doing next Saturday night?”

  “Uh, nothing. Hanging out with the kids. Why?”

  “I was wondering if I could take you to a movie.”

  “Trying to lock in another date already?” she teased. “That’s risky. What if this one turns into a disaster?”

  “As long as I get to spend time with you, it’ll never be a disaster.”

  She blushed again and added an eye roll. “Laying it on awfully thick tonight.”

  “Isn’t courting all about the man doling out these gushing compliments to woo his woman?”

  Her eyebrows came together as she studied me for a moment. “You’re courting me?”

  “I’m trying.”

  “I, um . . .” She swallowed hard. “Oh.”

  We sat in silence for a few moments, sipping our beers, until she said, “Yes. I’d love to go to a movie.”

  “Darling, the pleasure will be all mine.”

  “I’ll ask Poppy if they can take the kids.”

  “Already did. She’s in.”

  Molly fought a smile then glanced over at the corner booth on the opposite side of the room. “I haven’t been here in years. Not since . . .”

  Not since Jamie had been killed.

  “Me neither.” There were quite a few places in Bozeman that I’d stopped going to simply because the memories with Jamie were imprinted into the walls. Burger Bob’s was one of them. It had been a favorite hangout for all of us in college. We often found ourselves here for a late-night burger and some laughs.

  But it was time to put those ghosts to rest too. It was another reason I’d chosen this place for our date. I wanted Molly to see that his death wasn’t going to plague me. Not anymore.

  “It’s not as hard as I thought it would be,” she said. “It’s bittersweet. I’ll always miss Jamie. But I can’t imagine a life without Cole.”

  “I feel the same. I think it took a long time for me to realize it wasn’t this or that. It’s and. We had Jamie. And we have Cole.”

  “Cole.” Molly frowned. “I got a parking ticket the other day when my meter ran out, and he wouldn’t fix it for me. Asshole.”

  We both laughed and conversation turned easy. For hours. We didn’t talk about the kids or work. We just talked about life. What TV shows I’d been watching. Molly told me about a book she’d recently read. When our dinners came, we ate, chewing fast so we could talk some more.

  “I’m so full.” Molly sighed. Her plate had the last few remains of her burger and a few uneaten fries. “That was delicious.”

  “Would you like dessert?”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. I have no room.”

  “Okay.” I glanced over my shoulder, getting the waitress’s attention for the check. The restaurant was busy, even for a Sunday.

  “I’m going to use the restroom before we go,” Molly said then ventured to the back of the room as the waitress came over to take my credit card and to clear away the dishes.

  I studied the table, its dents and dings, smiling at how the evening had gone. It was the best date we’d had, with the exception of the first. And I wanted more. A lot more. A lifetime of more.

  “Finn?” I looked up from the table, surprised to hear Bridget’s voice. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” I smiled. “What are you up to?”

  “Raylene and I were just grabbing some dinner.” She held up a finger to her friend, who went in search for a table while Bridget came over to mine. “Are you just getting here? You can join us.”

  “About to head out, actually.”

  “I didn’t know you were going to eat alone. You should have called me. I would have met you for dinner.”

  “Oh, no.” I shook my head. “I’m not alone.”

  Bridget’s smile fell and the slightest wince pulled at her cheeks. Her eyes darted away too.

  A reaction that made my cheeseburger churn.

  When we’d had our big blowup, Molly had said Bridget was in love with me. I hadn’t thought much about it since because emotions had been running high that day. There had been many more important things in that fight to focus on than my employee.

  But had Molly been right? Was Bridget in love with me?

  My mind raced as I thought back to all the times the two women had been together. Even in the beginning, Bridget had never really warmed to Molly. Not that they’d worked together much. I’d taken Bridget under my wing, and in those early days, we’d been together from clock-in to clock-out.

  There’d been times in more recent years when a girlfriend of mine would stop by Alcott. Brenna used to come down and bring lunch on occasion. I couldn’t recall if Bridget had even said hello.

  Oh, fuck.

  Molly was right. I’d been blind.

  “Finn?” Bridget touched my arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Excuse me.” Molly cleared her throat.

  I jumped, twisting in my seat. The movement knocked Bridget’s hand off my arm. The frown on Molly’s face was as unwelcome as the realization that my most trusted and loyal employee had feelings for me.

  Bridget looked between the two of us, putting the pieces together. Then she looked at me, her eyes wide and full of judgment. “She is your date?”

  “Would you mind?” Bridget was blocking Molly’s chair. She took a step forward in an attempt to make Bridget back off. “I need to get my purse.”

  Bridget didn’t budge. And I knew her well enough to know she’d dug her heels in. She’d make Molly walk all the way around to get her purse.

  God, I was such a fucking moron. Did all men miss shit like this with women? Or was I especially clueless? I saw it now though. It was lit up brighter than the neon Bud Light sign in the restaurant’s front window.

  I stood from the table, inserting myself between the women. It forced Bridget back two steps, giving me enough room so I could duck under the table and retrieve Molly’s purse and pass it over.

  She slung it on a shoulder then crossed her arms. Even with them wrapped tight across her chest, her shoulders trembled. Not in fear, but anger. Her eyes were cold as she looked at Bridget.

  Molly didn’t hate. Ever. She didn’t antagonize. She didn’t make enemies, which meant for her to look at Bridget like she was ready to wrap her hands around Bridget’s neck, Bridget had pushed much too far.

  My protégé—my friend—had been awful to my wife.

  It had happened right under my nose, and I’d been oblivious.

  “We’d better get going.” I took Molly’s elbow, prying her arms apart. She fought me for a moment then gave in. With her arms hanging by her sides, I captured her hand and held it tightly.

  Bridget scowled at our clasped hands, then she looked at me, her eyes full of disbelief. “Really, Finn? Her?”

  What the fuck? Who was this stranger? Because she certainly wasn’t the Bridget I’d known for years.

  Molly tried to pull her hand away, but I tightened my grip.

  “Yes, her. It’s always her.” I pushed past Bridget, tugging Molly along. “See you tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner.”

  The fresh evening air was impossible to enjoy as Molly and I walked to my truck. With every step, she retreated away from me, even though our hands stayed locked.

  All of the progress we’d made, the good time, had been ruined.

  I took some deep breaths as
we walked, hoping to calm down. But my anger only burned hotter. We were ten feet from the truck, but I couldn’t take another step.

  My feet ground to a halt. “What did she do?”

  Molly tried to keep walking. I didn’t loosen my grip. “Let’s just go, Finn.”

  “What did she do?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Molly,” I whispered. “Please. Tell me.”

  She met my gaze. “You work with her. I don’t want to cause problems with that.”

  “There are problems. No matter what you tell me tonight, we’ve got big problems. And I’d really like to hear it. From you.”

  Her chin fell as she nodded. “I think she thought I was a joke when she started at Alcott. That I was just your silly wife, pretending to manage a business. She was curt. Polite, but curt. Then we got divorced. The polite stopped.”

  My molars ground together as I forced myself to stay quiet and let Molly continue.

  “She took your side. I understood that. But she was nasty, always glaring and muttering things behind my back. Then there was that night, the one where I went to Alcott and she called me a bitch while you were watching TV.”

  “I swear I didn’t hear it.” I wouldn’t have let that go. Fuck, I hated myself for that night.

  She nodded. “I believe you.”

  “What else happened?”

  “Well, you told her about me. About . . .”

  “The other guy.” I closed my eyes. “Fuck. I’m such a fucking idiot. I never should have told her. What did she do?”

  “She stopped muttering things behind my back and told me right to my face that I was a whore.”

  What. The. Fuck. My vision turned red. “You’re not a whore.”

  “No.” She locked my eyes, her spine straightening. “No, I’m not.”

  “Anything else?”

  “She’s been her usual bitchy self ever since. I’ve avoided her at all costs.”

  “Is that why you stopped coming to Alcott?”

  I shrugged. “It’s part of it. Mostly I stopped coming because it was yours, not ours anymore.”

  “I’m sorry. I want you to know I’m going to make this right.”

  “Don’t stress over it.” She squeezed my hand once then nodded toward the truck. “I don’t need that woman’s approval to be happy.”

 

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