“Please?” she murmured.
“Okay, sure thing.” He stepped behind her toward the door and she turned back to face me, but before he went inside, Leo mouthed flirt with her to me and batted his eyelashes. I stifled a laugh and studied her face, which had that same stubborn look she used to get when we used to play video games together in my parents’ basement. Something was bothering her. I doubted she remembered much about last night; that’s probably what it was.
“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow,” I said.
“I . . . think we should steer clear of each other for a while. I don’t exactly remember last night. But I have feelings. I have impressions, Garrett, and I think we need to stay away from each other so we can still be friends.”
“You realize that makes no sense.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense when it’s how I think I feel.”
“How you think you feel? But you don’t know for sure?”
“I have a picture of us on my cell phone. I hugged you, I feel like maybe we kissed, and I don’t want to wreck the friendship we have left—”
“You worry too much,” I argued.
Her hands hit her hips as she scowled at me. “You don’t worry enough! You never did.”
“I have to go to my truck. My crew will be here any minute. We can talk about dinner later.”
“We aren’t having dinner. Unless our families are there, just like we used to do. We shouldn’t be alone.”
“Maybe we need to be alone. I remember last night, and clearly. I did kiss you, briefly. Just a peck. You were drunk, and I probably shouldn’t have done it, but Jackie was at the table getting in your face about being stood up. I wanted to shut her up. I kissed you without thinking and I’m sorry. You hugged me goodbye on your porch. You told me you liked my beard and you called me sexy before you went inside. Nothing else happened between us. You made me feel good, Molly, and I want to have dinner with you. I want to know you again—what’s wrong with that?” All my cards, just thrown all over the fucking table.
Shit.
I turned away from her and stalked down the porch steps, stopping at the bed of my truck to get ready to start work. I grabbed my tool belt and strapped it on while I waited to hear whatever she was about to say. She had me flustered and feeling like I did when we were teenagers and she’d avoided me.
“Okay, maybe we should talk,” she shouted as she stomped down the stairs toward me. “We’re friends. Garrett and Molly are friends—that’s who we are.” She waved her hand between us as she yelled. “So, yes, we can get together, but no flirting and no date sorta situation. We can talk like friends do over lunch at Daisy’s or something like that. We can order cheeseburgers with lots of onions. No-kissing food, because there will be no more kissing. Okay?”
“I don’t kiss anyone who doesn’t want it. You don’t need onions to keep me away from you. But I’m just saying, if we were together and you wanted my kisses, onion breath wouldn’t stop me—nothing would. I would make sure you had everything you needed from me. Everything.”
I saw her sharp inhale; I watched her cheeks flush and her lips part. Her half-mast eyes and the fact that her hand had drifted up her chest to stop at her neck told me all I needed to know. I let my eyes wander down her curvy little form and back up again as a slow smile crossed my face. “I like your hair. The bun is cute.” She resembled a Hershey’s Kiss with her chocolate brown hair pulled into a knot at the top of her head. Completely adorable and probably sweet as hell.
She gasped like I had called her a troll or something equally terrible. “It is not! This bun is non-flirty and definitely the polar opposite of cute. My great-aunt Belle sometimes wears her hair like this and she’s at least ninety! Take it back.”
“You’re using Annabell Cooper as your defense?” I scoffed. “Everyone knows she’s the biggest flirt in Green Valley! And I will not take it back. By the way, your attitude is only making you cuter. Something told me that warning you of this fact would be interesting.” Crossing my arms, I leaned back against the bed of my truck to watch her. I had no doubt her reaction to my statement would be memorable.
“You’re impossible! Just like always!” She flung her arms to the sides, huffed out a breath and whirled away from me to storm off toward the inn.
“And you’re adorable, cutie!” I shouted to her back, making sure I was loud enough for her to hear me. I smiled as I flashed to when she used to call me a buttface and stomp into the house whenever I beat her playing basketball in my parents’ driveway, almost twenty years ago. Damn.
“Ugh! No flirting allowed! And don’t call me cutie, buttface!” she shouted before turning to stomp up the porch steps.
I chuckled as she spun around to face me once more, flinging her hand up and down, then pointing at me. “You think you’re some big hotshot because you used to be a badass Marine and now you’re a big, buff construction guy in a tight, sexy T-shirt with a super cool tool belt. Well, you’re hot. I mean, you’re not. You’re still a buttface, Garrett.”
Getting to know her again was absolutely going to be the most fun I’d had in years.
Chapter 4
Molly
I couldn’t figure out how to handle him. Combine that with my new and screwy feelings for him, and I’d reverted all the way back to my childhood methods of communication—pouting and mild drama. Not a good look, dumbass.
“That was so smooth, Molls,” Leo drawled, hip against the corner of the counter as he sipped his coffee. Barrett and Landon were at the table in the bay window, studiously perusing the plans spread out in front of them and I’d like to think they had ignored my outburst, but I knew better.
“I don’t even remember what I said, Leo. I need more scones. Where are the scones?”
“The word buttface was uttered, or rather, shouted,” he informed me with a smirk.
Barrett raised his head from his blueprints. “Don’t listen to him, honey. Garrett is a pushy little buttface sometimes. You do whatever you need to do.” His eyes were sympathetic and only a tiny bit laughing at me. He’d always been big-brothery and sweet. He resembled Garrett, and Everett, and Wyatt too. All the Monroe brothers looked alike and they all took after their dad. They also looked kind of like Henry Cavill—totally tall, dark, and handsome. Why had I said no again? Oh yeah, the friend thing and the Becky Lee thing and other things I didn’t want to think about. With a shake of my head, I poured a second cup of coffee. I needed more caffeine in order to truly examine my life choices. And more scones. Definitely more scones.
“Maybe give the kid a chance though,” Landon chimed in. My actual big brother coming in with the push. “He grew out of most of his buttface behavior. In fact, I bet he’d even let you win at basketball,” he teased.
“Ha ha ha.” I pulled a chair out and plopped into it.
Garrett entered the kitchen followed by his crew, and I’m sorry to poor Clara, but she was absolutely missing out. There were way too many muscles in this kitchen. Dusty work boots, hard hats, and huge sledgehammers completed each of their jeans-and-a-T-shirt ensemble. Do not even get me started on their low-slung tool belts and the literal acres of broad, sculpted man chest spread out before my eyes. I tried not to ogle but it was impossible. I wanted to feel Garrett’s muscles, for quality assurance, or science, or my own perverted curiosity. Ugh!