“Baby, you gotta eat, too,” I reminded Molly as she put another piece of meat in Reb’s mouth.
“I’ll just eat when she’s done,” Molly replied with a smile.
“Food’s gonna be cold.”
“It’s okay, I’m used to it.”
She was smiling about it—but it bugged the hell out of me.
“Here, I’ll take her,” I said, reaching for the baby.
I stuck my hands in her armpits and lifted.
“I don’t know if she’ll go to you,” Molly warned as I pulled Rebel onto my lap.
“She’s fine,” I replied as Reb reached up and patted my beard. “Now eat.”
“Reb still has to eat,” Molly argued, lifting another bite to Rebel’s mouth.
“I’ll feed her. You eat.” I took the fork off my plate and speared a carrot that Molly had already cut up, waiting for Rebel to finish chewing before I gave her another bite.
“See? Eat,” I ordered.
“Will says you’re a nurse, Molly?” my dad said, interrupting our conversation.
Molly’s entire body tensed. “Yes, at the hospital.”
“You like it?”
She nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“Eat, baby,” I reminded her softly, just as she was setting her fork down. She picked it back up, glancing at me then back to my dad.
“What kind of nursing do you do?” my mom asked. “I always thought it would be cool to work in the maternity ward.”
“Labor and Delivery is fun,” Molly answered, relaxing slightly. “I work all over the hospital, but I don’t get up there very often.”
“You were Will’s—” Tommy started to say.
“Not discussing that tonight,” my dad interrupted with a pointed glance at Rose and Lily.
“Molly’s best friend is seein’ Rocky,” I told my parents, changing the subject. “You remember Melanie Connor, Mom?”
“Aw. Yeah, I do! She was full of piss and vinegar—reminded me of Farrah,” Mom said with a smile.
“Good—maybe he’ll finally divorce that woman,” my dad said casually, cutting into his pot roast.
“What?” Molly asked, glancing at me as she sat up straighter in her chair.
“Christ, Dad,” I mumbled, shaking my head as I put another carrot in Rebel’s mouth.
“What? Ain’t a secret. Kid’s been married since he was old enough to fuckin’ shave.”
“Rocky’s married?” Molly hissed at me.
“Not our business,” I warned.
“The hell it’s not!”
“Molly—that’s between them.”
“She doesn’t even know!”
“You sure about that?” I asked, making Molly’s mouth snap shut.
She turned her head away and stiffly began to eat. My mom pulled her into conversation and they discussed all sorts of shit, but the entire time we sat there, Molly refused to look at me. It was blatant, and had Tommy watching me in amusement as I tried to get her attention.
“I’m going to go get the dessert,” my mom announced after a while, hopping out of her chair. It only took her a second to grab the cake pan off the counter, and then she was back, cutting up my favorite pineapple upside down cake. Shit, she’d made my fucking birthday dinner—down to the cake. All we needed were some candles.
“Do you make that from scratch?” Molly asked my mom, a tentative smile on her face.
“Yep—this is my Gram’s recipe, too,” Mom answered proudly.
“Cool,” Molly said with another smile. “I’m just going to go clean Rebel up. You guys eat without us.”
“You don’t want cake?” my dad asked, like Molly was insulting my mom.
“Um.” Molly’s face grew a little red as she glanced at me. “Rebel can’t have milk.”
“Will, why didn’t you say something?” my mom scolded, snatching the cake back off the table.
Fuck. I felt like such an asshole, as Molly sat there red-faced. She was embarrassed and had tried not to make a big deal out of it, but my parents wouldn’t let shit go.
“I didn’t know,” I said uncomfortably.
“That’s okay, Will,” Molly said softly.
“She allergic or something?” my dad asked, because he couldn’t just fucking drop it.
“No, she has a skin condition—”
“Contagious?” Dad cut in.
“Jesus Christ,” I spit out, getting to my feet. “Does it goddamn matter?”
Rebel jerked as I got to my feet, but wrapped her arms around my neck as soon as she got her bearings.
“Will,” Molly called, embarrassed. “It’s fine.”
I looked down at her hand on my hip, then met her eyes. I was making it fucking worse.
“She has eczema,” Molly told my dad, her fingers curling into my belt loop as I stayed on my feet. “It’s not contagious. And she’s not allergic to milk, but once I stopped giving it to her, the eczema stopped flaring up as much.”
“She can’t have any?” my mom asked. “Not even when it’s cooked in? Or cheese?”
“I haven’t tried.” Molly shook her head. “It’s been so nice not having her scratching at her skin until it bleeds that I haven’t wanted to chance it.”
“I can understand that,” Mom said, nodding. “My son Mick was allergic to strawberries, of all things. We didn’t even keep strawberry soda in the house.” She chuckled.
“I’m gonna take her in to the living room,” I said, leaning down to kiss Molly’s forehead. “You have some cake.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she argued, trying to stand up until I pressed my hand down on her shoulder.
“She’s gonna send half a’that cake home with me.”
“Why do you get half?”
“It’s my favorite,” I answered, leaning down to kiss her again. “And I’m her favorite.”
I turned and carried Rebel out of the room as my brother and sister argued over who was my mother’s favorite. I needed a few minutes to get my shit together after that clusterfuck.
Chapter 7
Molly
“Hey, Will,” I called softly as he drove us home from his parents house that night. “Could you not leave me next time?”
The car jerked a little to the left at my words and Will quickly straightened it out before glancing over at me. “Leave you?”
“Yeah,” I met his eyes then looked away, setting my hand down on his where it was resting on my thigh. “Just—you know—when you left me at the table.”
“Rebel couldn’t have the cake, right?”
“No, I know,” I said in frustration. I hated feeling needy, because I wasn’t. But after he’d left me alone with his family, I’d been unbearably uncomfortable. I didn’t know them, and his dad was an asshole.
Mrs. Hawthorne had talked almost non-stop as she cut up the cake and served it, wrapping a huge slice of it for Will to take home, but the rest of the table had been noticeably silent. I’d barely taken two bites when it had become too much and I’d escaped to go find Will and Rebel.
I’d found them on the floor of the living room. Will had been flat on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, while Rebel had straddled his chest, poking at his face. He’d huffed every time she moved, like she was knocking the wind out of him, and she’d been giggling like he was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.
“I was just really uncomfortable,” I said, lowering my voice to almost a whisper.
“That was only family,” Will said incredulously. “What’re you gonna do when it’s an entire clubhouse full of people?”
“Not go,” I replied half-jokingly. The other half of me was not joking in the least. I didn’t want anything to do with his motorcycle club. I didn’t know what they were into, but I knew it wasn’t good. It was hard for me to imagine Will there.
“Sorry you were uncomfortable,” Will replied gruffly. “Thought you’d found your footing before I left.”
My skin prickled at his tone.
“Your dad threatened your brother before he’d even sat down at the table,” I snapped.
“Tommy’s a prick—you think it’s okay for him to talk to my mother like that?” Will snapped as he turned down my street.
“Of course not!”
“So what’s got your panties in a twist?”
“He threatened to beat up his teenage son!”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I heard him.”
“You heard what you wanted to hear, Molly,” Will said flatly, turning off the car and throwing his door open.
My nostrils flared as he shut the door behind him, cutting off our conversation. Oh, hell no. I threw open my door and scrambled out of the car.
“You think it’s okay for him to treat his kids like that?” I asked incredulously as I rounded the hood. “Seriously?”
“You got any brothers?” Will asked, turning to face me as I reached him.
“You know I don’t.”
“Then you got no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“What’s bullshit is you goin’ over to my parents’ house so full of yourself that you fuckin’ pick them apart before we even sit down to dinner.”
“I didn’t do that!”
“Right,” Will scoffed, reaching up to scratch at his beard as he shook his head.
“Your dad is scary, Will.”
“Scary?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Yeah, okay.”
“He is.”
“Agreed.”
“Then why the hell are you mad at me?”
“Because you’re makin’ him out to be this goddamn monster when you don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about and it’s irritating as fuck!”
“He threat—”
“Yeah, I heard you the fuckin’ first time,” Will said, cutting me off. “You don’t know them. You don’t know shit. You’ve never seen Tommy lose his shit—and I hope like fuck you never do. That kid is angry, Molly. He goes off the fuckin’ rails.”
“So get him some help!” I blurted. Will’s explanations were fucking ridiculous. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t seeing what I was seeing. Were they all so dysfunctional that this shit was normal?
“You think they haven’t tried?” Will asked, taking a step toward me. “You think they haven’t done everything they can? My dad would die for Tommy—for any of his kids. But Tommy’s practically an adult and he doesn’t want to talk to some shrink—”
“I’m sure calling them shrinks is really fucking helpful.”
“—but he knows that my dad won’t let him lose it. All it took tonight was a couple of words, and Tommy knew what the fuck he’d done. He knocked that shit off, and you obviously didn’t notice him apologizing to my mom two seconds later.”
I stared at him in confusion. How the hell did we even get to that point of the conversation?
“Boys are different than girls, Molly,” Will said, trying to get his temper under control. “Especially teenage boys that have testosterone makin’ them nuts. Tommy is ten times worse because he’s dealin’ with PTSD and fuck knows what else.”
“I was uncomfortable when you left me with people I didn’t know,” I replied stiffly, trying to bring the conversation back to its original intent.
“You have boys with me,” Will said softly, still not letting it go, “I’m not gonna let them talk to you with disrespect. Not ever.”
“That won’t happen,” I mumbled as Will pressed me up against the driver’s door.
“What?” His big hand wrapped around the front of my jaw and tilted my face up until we were eye to eye.
“Why are we fighting?” I asked, searching his face.
“Sugar, you were ignorin’ shit tonight.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, Moll, you were. So set on seein’ shit one way—you didn’t even notice the rest of it.”
“Not true,” I whispered as he leaned down closer to me.
“You see him making sure my ma sat down? Gettin’ up to get the drinks so she’d get off her feet?” He waited until I nodded before continuing. “Made sure Lil had everything she needed where she could reach it. Called your baby a sweetheart. That’s my dad, babe. He’s scary, yeah. But he’s a softy when it comes to family.”
“He freaks me out,” I muttered as Will brushed his lips against my cheek.
“You think I’m any different?” he asked against my jaw.
“I know you are.”
“No, you don’t. You see me when I’m with you,” he replied with a chuckle, sucking at the skin of my throat.
I slid my hand to the back of his neck, swallowing hard as I tangled my fingers in the hair there and pulled his head back.
“What don’t I see?” I asked as he inhaled sharply through his nose.
“That I’m just as scary,” he growled, jerking his head forward and biting playfully at my neck.
My body relaxed in increments as I giggled, and before he was done, I was wrapped around him and pinned against the side of the car.
“We better get sleepin’ beauty inside,” Will finally said, biting my earlobe.
“Okay,” I said as he set me on my feet. “Are you coming in?”
He looked at me like I was nuts.
Rebel had fallen asleep as soon as I’d buckled her into her seat, and she stayed that way through the entire ride home, being carried into the house, and as I changed her diaper before putting her into her crib. I pulled her blanket up to her shoulder and leaned heavily against the side of her crib as I watched her sleep.
Will was waiting for me somewhere in the house, but I needed a few minutes to myself. I needed to breathe.
I really liked Will. He made me feel good, happy. But he also made me feel crazy. When I was with him, I no longer recognized my quiet life. The one I’d been living since Rebel was born and everything had changed.
I liked my job. I liked watching cartoons with Reb, and playing with her little molding clay set, and waking up late on my days off and then spending the entire day in my pajamas because we didn’t have anywhere to be. I liked it quiet, and with Will life was anything but.
It felt like we fought all the time about stupid shit. We didn’t agree on anything, and both of us got angry with the other at the slightest thing.
What was I doing?
“She still sleeping?” the man I’d been thinking about said softly from the door of Rebel’s room.
“Yeah, I just wanted a minute,” I answered, still looking at Rebel and softly rubbing her back.
“Take your time, beautiful,” he said, tapping the doorframe softly. “I’ll wait.”
He walked away and I sighed, only waiting a minute before following him out and shutting Rebel’s door quietly behind me.
“What’re you doing?” I asked when I found him in the kitchen, bent over the counter with his back to me.
He jerked in surprise, then lifted a hand to brush it across his mouth as he turned to face me.
“Thought you’d be a minute,” he said, chuckling in embarrassment.
My stomach clenched as he brushed at his mouth some more. I walked slowly into the kitchen and looked behind him, my heart thundering for a reason I couldn’t pinpoint.
“Cake?” I asked in surprise as I caught sight of the unwrapped tinfoil.
“It’s my favorite and I didn’t get any,” he said quickly, turning his body toward the counter. “I’ll make sure it’s all gone before she wakes up.”
God, why couldn’t he make any sense? Sometimes I looked at him, and he seemed like a stranger—intimidating and unbreakable. Then he’d turn to me and quickly try to explain why he was eating cake—like a little boy who’d just gotten caught.
“Can I have a bite?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Well,” he hesitated.
“Are you serious?”
“No,” he said, his lips quirking. “But pineapple upside down cake
is serious business,” he whispered. “You have to pay attention.”
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause you have to have the right ratio of cake to pineapple,” he said, using a fork to cut through the cake that he’d already put a huge dent in. “You have to have some pineapple in every bite.”
“What happens if you don’t?” I asked with a smile as he lifted a bite to my mouth.
“Then the entire cake is ruined.” His voice went husky as I pulled the cake off the fork with my teeth.
“Yum, that’s really good,” I mumbled, covering my mouth with my hand.
“She makes chocolate and cherry upside down cake, too. That one can be your favorite,” Will informed me as he scooped a bite much larger than he’d given me into his mouth.
“Maybe pineapple is my favorite,” I argued as he fed me another bite.
“Can’t be.”
“Why?”
“’Cause it’s my favorite.”
“So?”
“So if it’s your favorite, I’ll have to share.” He stuffed another large bite in his mouth. “That’s not gonna work for me,” he mumbled around the bite.
I mock glared, then before he could stop me, leaned down and licked the top of his cake, smiling in triumph as his jaw dropped.
“Sugar,” he scolded, shaking his head. “I’ve had my tongue all over you—you think your spit bothers me?”
Then he proceeded to put the rest of the cake in his mouth, his cheeks filling as he struggled to chew it. He turned and put his fork in the sink, then rolled up the rest of the foil and tossed it in the garbage.
“You’re still going to pay for that,” he warned, his glare completely ruined by the crumbs stuck in his beard.
“You’ve got a little something,” I gestured to my own face, trying to hold back a laugh.
“You want some?” he asked, smiling widely as he lunged for me, laughing as I tried to run. “Come on, you wanted more, right? I was savin’ some for you!”
I gasped and giggled as he chased me into the living room, tackling me onto the couch. Squirming, I tried to throw him off me, but Will was built like a tank. He was solid muscle, and muscle was heavy.