Read Craving Molly Page 7


  “Bitch, you—”

  “Call me bitch again,” Mel hissed, turning toward him. “See what happens.”

  Will took advantage of the distraction, wrapping an arm around my waist from behind. “Don’t leave,” he whispered into my ear, fisting my t-shirt in his hand.

  I shook my head. I knew if I stayed, I’d end up in bed with him, and the next day I’d feel like shit when he took off again. I didn’t want to be the booty-call. I didn’t want to become a party girl, going out to bars just on the chance he’d show up and give me attention. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t my life.

  “Come with me to my parents’ house for dinner tomorrow,” Will said quietly while Mel and Rocky continued to argue. “I’ll pick you and Rebel up.”

  I opened my mouth to decline, but I didn’t.

  Because I really wanted to go with him. I wanted him to introduce me to his family. I wanted some type of normal relationship, and he was giving me a glimpse of that.

  “What time?” I asked, relaxing a little against his chest.

  “Five.” I felt his lips against the side of my head.

  “Let’s go,” Mel ordered, jerking my hand.

  I didn’t look behind me as she tugged me across the bar, but I felt Will’s eyes on me until we walked out the door.

  Chapter 6

  Will

  I was nervous. Shit, I hadn’t been so nervous over a chick since Britney Miller taught me how to get a girl off during my sophomore year of high school.

  Yeah, I started having sex at fourteen, but hadn’t known what I was doing until two years later. Needless to say, those first two years I’d been lucky to get laid, but after that? They’d started begging for it.

  I was in my mom’s SUV on my way to Molly’s to pick her and her kid up, and I was sweating so bad¸ I was pretty sure there were wet spots on the pits of my shirt. My parents would like Molly—I knew they would. And they were pretty fucking cool. It’s not like they’d grill her or some shit like that.

  But I was taking her home with me. To meet my family. And I’d only fucked her that one time.

  I was making a commitment to a girl I’d only fucked once, one who had no fucking clue how to protect herself and didn’t even realize she needed to.

  I alternately wished she’d wise up and realize I’d lied to her the night before when I’d said I was out of town and hoped she’d never find out. I hadn’t gone anywhere but the garage and my apartment, drinking myself to sleep so I wouldn’t go over to her place again. Seeing her—bringing her into my life—was a fucking idiotic decision, but when Rock had mentioned meeting Mel at the bar, I’d given up on trying to stay away.

  I wiped my hand over my face as I turned into Molly’s trailer park.

  When I pulled up in front of her place, I flexed my hands on the steering wheel before parking. My entire body was strung tight as a fucking wire.

  I was just opening up my door when Molly came out of the house. She had a bag over her shoulder and the baby on her hip. Her head was tilted down like she was talking to Rebel, but she hadn’t noticed me. After locking the door behind her, she started down the stairs off the porch, but froze on the last step as she finally saw me standing there.

  “Oh,” she mumbled, looking past me at my mom’s car. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

  “What?” God, she was pretty. She had her hair braided away from her face, and she was wearing a dress that hit right at her knees and was covered in flowers.

  “I thought you’d changed your mind,” she said softly, smiling a little as she shrugged her shoulders.

  “What? Why?” I glanced at Rebel, who was pulling at her little purple glasses, and stepped forward just as she’d pulled them off her face. “No, no, baby girl,” I reminded her softly. “You need those to see.” I set them back on her nose, making sure the little arms were set above her ears.

  “It’s almost six o’clock, Will,” Molly said, looking at me like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or smile. “You said you’d be here an hour ago.”

  My eyes widened. “Shit!” I reached out and pulled the bag off her shoulder, feeling like an asshole. “I musta had the time wrong last night, sugar. Come on, dinner’s ready when we get there.”

  I turned and walked back toward the SUV, setting her bag inside.

  “Uh, Will?” Molly called, laughter in her voice. “We need to move Reb’s car seat over.”

  “Right,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. I was fucking this up. I walked back toward Molly’s car and yanked open the back seat, only to realize that I had no fucking clue how to get the car seat out. The seat belt was lying there, obviously not in use, but the damn car seat wouldn’t budge.

  “Hey, William,” Molly said right behind me.

  “What?” I snapped, automatically apologizing.

  “Here, take Reb,” Molly ordered, pushing me out of the way before setting the little girl in my arms.

  I froze as I pulled the baby to my chest, then exhaled loudly as Molly climbed halfway in the car, messing with the seat. Her dress had risen up a few inches in the back, and the loose fabric molded to her ass as she twisted and turned, trying to free Rebel’s seat. My mouth began to water until I was brought back to the present by small fingers sifting through my beard.

  “Hey, princess,” I said softly as Rebel continued to pet my beard. “Whatcha doin?”

  Rebel didn’t answer, her brown eyes focused on her fingers and my face.

  “Got it!” Molly announced as she pulled the seat from the car.

  I carried the heavy seat over to my mom’s rig and set it up for Molly so she could buckle it in again.

  Goddamn, that view.

  I almost forgot that I had Rebel sitting on my forearm when Molly contorted to fit her knee into the car seat as she tightened the little straps connecting it to the seat of the car.

  “You have to put your weight on it to get it tight enough,” Molly told me, her voice a little muffled.

  “That’s what she said,” I replied automatically, wincing when she laughed and hit her head on the roof of the car.

  A couple minutes later, we were headed to my mom and dad’s while Rebel kicked her legs noisily in the back seat.

  “We probably should’ve just taken my car,” Molly said with a huff as she tried to straighten up her hair. “It’s a pain in the ass to transfer that seat.”

  “We’ll get one for this rig,” I answered without thinking, making Molly freeze.

  “I don’t mind moving it—”

  “I didn’t mean—” We both spoke at the same time, but neither of us finished our sentences, leaving us in an awkward quiet.

  “Thanks for inviting me,” Molly finally said, reaching over to squeeze my arm where it rested on the middle console. “I haven’t seen your mom in years.”

  “She’s lookin’ forward to it,” I replied, clearing my throat.

  I slid my arm off the console and wrapped my hand around her bare thigh, and just like that—my nerves were gone.

  “Oh, my God,” Molly said suddenly. “So last night, I put some blue hair putty shit in Reb’s hair—”

  “Why?”

  “Because Mel’s little sister was coming over and she has this long, purple mohawk—”

  “Didn’t know Mel had a sister.”

  “Would you let me finish?” Molly asked, laughing. “So last night I put it in, and I asked Mel’s little sitter to wash it out before bed. But they accidentally fell asleep on the floor in the living room, and I didn’t have the heart to wake Reb for a bath.”

  “Sweet mama,” I said quietly, making her smile.

  “So I gave her a bath when she woke up this morning—but her hair was still tinted blue!” Molly snickered again. “I had to wash her hair again to get the stuff out and she got blue crap all over her favorite blanket, which she was completely pissed about.”

  “Why didn’t you just leave it?” I asked as I pulled into my parents’ driveway.

&n
bsp; “I couldn’t bring her to your parents’ house with blue hair,” Molly said seriously, reaching to unbuckle her seatbelt.

  “Moll,” I called as she fidgeted with her dress. “Molly, look here.”

  She turned her head toward me, but she didn’t meet my eyes.

  “Look at me.”

  “What?” she asked, finally making eye contact.

  “My parents wouldn’t think twice if you brought your kid dressed in a monkey costume. They don’t give a shit about stuff like that.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now, quit fidgetin’.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are. Quit it.”

  “You don’t get to say anything, you’re not meeting my dad for the first time.”

  “Sugar, I know your dad.”

  “Exactly!”

  “And you know my mom.”

  “When I was a kid,” she said, drawing out the last word in annoyance.

  Damn, she was cute. I grabbed her braid in my fist and pulled her lips to mine, sliding my tongue into her mouth as she opened it to protest. That was all it took for her body to relax, her shoulders dropping as her hand found the front of my shirt.

  “Now, come on,” I ordered, giving her one last kiss, because fuck, she tasted good. “Dinner’s waitin’ on us.”

  “I can’t believe we were just making out in your mom’s car,” she grumbled as she hopped out of the car and moved toward Rebel’s door.

  “Five years ago, you wouldn’t have cared,” I teased, grabbing her bag as she unbuckled the baby.

  “Five years ago, I wouldn’t have been kissing you at all,” she shot back, pulling Rebel to her chest.

  I scowled at the thought of her with Mason.

  “Well, you’re mine now,” I said roughly, setting my hand at the base of her spine to steer her up the walkway.

  “I didn’t agree to that.” Her voice was light, but there was thread of warning in it that I ignored.

  Because I’m a fucking idiot.

  “You will,” I promised as I used the hand holding her bag to open up the screen door, then held the heavy wood one so she could step inside.

  “Sounds like Mom’s in the kitchen,” I said, walking toward the noise as Molly froze in the entryway.

  “Should I take off my shoes?” she asked, glancing down at the lace-up boots she was wearing.

  “Hell, no.” I laughed, then realized that she was really fucking nervous. Not just slightly nervous, but ready to fucking bolt.

  I walked back toward her, and caught her chin in my hand as she looked everywhere but at me.

  “Just dinner, baby,” I said softly, making her eyes finally meet mine. “Not a job interview.”

  “I’m not really good meeting new people,” she whispered in embarrassment, her eyes drifting from mine again.

  Jesus. I’d never in my life seen her act the way she was then, and I’d grown up with her. She’d always been quiet, but this level of shyness was way beyond what I remembered. Rebel laid her head down on her mom’s shoulder, like she could sense something was wrong.

  “They’re gonna dig you,” I promised, lifting both my hands to the sides of her face so she couldn’t look away from me again. “And stop lookin’ away from me when you’re talkin’ to me.”

  “I can’t help it,” she muttered in frustration.

  “Next time you do it, I’m gonna reach out and pinch your nipple,” I warned, making her eyes go wide. “Don’t care where we are or what we’re doin’.”

  “I don’t do it on purpose!” she hissed.

  “Bet you’ll be more conscious of it now,” I replied with a grin.

  “Asshole,” she whispered.

  “Hey, when’d you get here?” My dad said from somewhere behind me, making Molly’s body tense.

  I ignored him and leaned forward, kissing Molly hard. I didn’t slide my tongue in, figuring that would freak her out, but the kiss was still open-mouthed and wet. I felt Rebel’s fingers in my beard near my ear, but I didn’t stop kissing her mother until Molly had relaxed against me.

  “William Butler Hawthorne,” my mom called out just as I was pulling away. “I’d like to see Molly, too, you know.”

  I smiled and turned, grabbing Molly’s hand as I towed her toward my mom.

  “Jesus, you got pretty!” Mom said happily as she pulled Molly in for a hug. “I knew you would be with that long blonde hair.”

  “And I actually brush it now,” Molly replied jokingly.

  “You were so cute with those lopsided pigtails. I could’ve picked you out of a crowd—from the back.”

  Molly laughed quietly, but stepped back against me as my dad came closer, draping his arm over my mom’s shoulders.

  “Molly, this is my husband, Asa,” Mom introduced them.

  “Call me Grease,” Dad said gruffly, lifting his hand to shake Molly’s. Then he looked down to Rebel and smiled. “She’s a sweetheart.”

  “This is Rebel,” Molly said, leaning even harder against me. “Can you say hi, Reb?”

  Rebel shook her head once, making me chuckle.

  “That’s alright,” Dad said softly. “Get to know each other first, yeah?”

  As he was talking to Rebel, I heard someone on the stairs and turned to see Lily and Rose sliding down the carpeted stairway on their asses.

  “Hey, Rebel!” Rose called out as she stood up, unconsciously dropping her arm down to guide Lily toward us.

  “Hey, girls,” Molly called out. “Look, Rebel. Your friends are here.”

  Reb’s head popped up and she started kicking her legs in excitement, pushing at Molly’s chest with both hands.

  “You can’t get down yet, boo,” Molly told her firmly, shifting Rebel in her arms.

  “Dinner’s on the table, should we head that way?” Mom asked, diverting Rebel’s attention.

  “Come on, baby,” I said softly in Molly’s ear as I pushed her forward to follow my parents toward the kitchen. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

  “Your dad’s huge,” she whispered back over her shoulder.

  “I’m not real small.”

  “But you’re not scary.”

  “Depends on who you ask,” I mumbled as we reached the kitchen.

  Tommy was already sitting in his seat, doing something on his phone. Dad was forcing Mom to sit down while he grabbed drinks out of the fridge, and the little girls were messing with Lily’s place settings—probably so she’d know exactly where everything was.

  “Where’d this come from?” I asked Mom as I pulled out a seat for Molly next to a gray and blue high chair. I was glad as fuck that my mom had thought of it, because it hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  “Trix let me borrow it for tonight,” Mom said happily.

  “Thank you,” Molly said, setting Rebel in the chair. “And thank Trix for me.”

  “I will.”

  “Molly, this is my brother, Tommy.”

  “Whoa—I remember when you were a baby,” Molly said as she sat down in her chair. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Yep,” Tommy replied dismissively.

  I wanted to rip the little fucker’s head off.

  “Thomas Asa Hawthorne,” my mom growled, snatching Tom’s phone out of his hand.

  “What’s goin’ on?” my dad asked as he came back from across the room.

  “Your son just got grounded off his phone for the rest of the night,” Mom said, taking her glass of water from Dad.

  “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Tommy blurted, eyes wide.

  Dad reached down quickly, grabbing Tommy by the scruff of the neck. “You think you’re big enough to take me on?” he asked menacingly, not even bothering to set the sodas in his other hand down.

  “No,” Tommy rasped, swallowing hard.

  “Then I better never hear you talkin’ to my wife like that again.”

  The little girls were still talking quietly to each other, but Rebel was completely motionless, staring at my dad with
wide eyes. I glanced toward Molly and found her staring at her lap, where her fingers twisted nervously.

  “It’s all good, sugar,” I said softly, reaching over to rub her back.

  “I don’t—” she looked over to me, but just as quickly looked at Rebel, who was kicking the footrest of the high chair hard while her entire body arched against the tray at her belly.

  “Rebel,” Molly called soothingly, shooting to her feet. “What’s wrong?” She pulled Rebel out of the seat and the baby wrapped her arms around Molly’s neck like a vice.

  “I’m so sorry,” Molly said sheepishly, glancing around the table. She tried to put Rebel back in her seat, but it wasn’t happening, so she finally just sat back down next to me with Rebel on her lap.

  She sat there trying to soothe Rebel as the rest of the table started dishing up their plates and Dad finished handing out drinks.

  “Where you want it, Lily?” he asked quietly, waiting for Lily to point at an empty place on the table. “Alright. Straw’s by your left elbow.”

  He handed me a couple of sodas, then finally sat down himself.

  “You want mashed potatoes?” I asked Molly as they got to me.

  “A little, please,” she whispered back. “Do you know if your mom puts milk in them?”

  “Uh.” I looked down at the potatoes. How the fuck was I supposed to know? “Hey, Ma? You put milk in these?”

  “What?”

  “In the potatoes.”

  “Yeah—it’s Gram’s recipe.”

  Molly was glaring at me when I looked back down at her. Was I not supposed to ask?

  “No potatoes for us, then,” she said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear her.

  She took some steamed carrots and roast, thanking me for each one.

  Jesus, the table was practically silent as we all dug in. The little girls giggled every once in a while, but none of the adults said a word as we ate. It was awkward as fuck, and I started sweating again.

  “Reb, you want some carrots?” Molly asked, lifting a tiny piece of steamed carrot to Rebel’s mouth. She opened it like a little baby bird and snatched up the carrot quickly, making me chuckle.

  Molly kept feeding her tiny bites, and was still feeding her by the time I’d completely cleared my plate. I fucking loved my mom’s pot roast. It was my favorite—probably the reason she’d made it.