“Won’t Matthew absolutely hate Lise’s ghost tour?” Charlotte glanced up from a particularly turgid dick. “I thought scary stuff bothered him.”
Karl shook his head and arrowed toward the bathroom. “He’ll wear headphones and stay outside.”
Cling to his wife too, but Athena didn’t mind that. Karl had caught her copping a feel of his best friend more times than he cared to remember.
“If it bothers him, why doesn’t he stay home?”
“Super-glued to Athena.” It’d be nauseating, if Karl weren’t the same way with Molly. “Be right back. If Molly gets here early, tell her to sit her ass down and stop trying to help out front.”
Charlotte saluted him as he shut the bathroom door.
By the time he finished washing up and changing into cleaner clothes, Molly was waiting on a stool in the back, admiring buttercream dicks and telling Charlotte all about the latest work project with Sadie-slash-Lise.
“In the book I’m narrating now,Honk of Desire, the guy’s a duck shifter.” When Charlotte’s eyebrows rose, Molly lifted a hand. “I know, I know. Technically, I’m not sure a corkscrew-shaped penis would actually work that well in a human woman’s vagina, but Sadie’s fictional dick isprehensile, and itvibrates. Also, you would notbelievewhat that duck-man can do with his bill and a few stray feathers. When he says he’sgoing downon her, he means that in at least two different ways.”
Charlotte’s piping paused. “Wow. That’s...wow.”
“Exactly.” Molly nodded and leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “By the way, try saying the wordbeak-gasmwithout laughing. Go ahead. I’ll wait while you experience my professional travails for yourself.”
While Charlotte was still giggling helplessly, Karl glared at his inattentive wife. “Stop corrupting Charlotte and start corruptingme, woman.”
She promptly hopped off her stool and headed in his direction. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Fuckingfinally,” he muttered, and wrapped his arms around her.
Despite all her strength, her body was softer than ever—as was his—and he couldn’t get enough. Even after their brief kiss, he didn’t let go. Just buried his face in her neck and breathed in her familiar scent. Lavender—because he did all the laundry, and he enjoyed Provençal shit—and that woodsy body wash she preferred. The combination settled something inside him. Made him feel warm andloved, every time he smelled it.
Her hands gently rubbed his lower back, where he was aching most. Probably needed to make an appointment with his doctor about that, like she kept insisting. Not now, though.
It was time for his second-favorite part of the day.
He raised his head, content. “You good to go, Charlotte?”
“I’m good.” She was smiling sweetly at them both, pastry bag at the ready. “Hector and I will meet you at the ticket booth later tonight. Have fun in the meantime, you two. But not so much fun that Sylvia catches you rounding second base again, okay?”
“No promises.” After lifting a hand in farewell, he steered Molly toward the rear exit. “Ready for our walk?”
Her hip bumped his, a playful nudge. “Definitely.”
Once she’d waved goodbye to Charlotte too, they stepped outside into the dazzling late-September afternoon. As usual, Molly paused to dig through her messenger bag, then handed over his set of shades and donned her own. When he checked her feet, she was wearing her comfy sneakers with the decent traction. His Crocs were bright pink—Brooklyn had picked them out the last time he and Molly babysat Charlotte’s kids—and supportive as hell.
They were set.
Bending down, he rested his lips against the sun-heated crown of her head. “Wanna visit the snapdragons in the Mayor’s Mansion garden today?”
“The foxgloves should be in bloom too.” She tipped her face upward, a silent request they both understood. He promptly, gladly gave her another kiss—this one slower and with more tongue, since they were alone. “Let’s do it.”
As they walked in comfortable silence down the town’s cobblestone streets, she swung their hands slightly. Peered through her sunglasses at all the businesses and homes surrounding them on both sides. Greeted friends and acquaintances.
And once the street had mostly emptied, she quietly told Karl, “I got another email from my dad today.”
He kept his expression as blank as possible. “Okay.”
Whatever she did in response, he’d support her. Didn’t mean he liked her father. The asshole had recently started contacting her again, yeah, but hadn’t ever apologized for lying or leaving his first wife and daughter in the dust.
Molly’s perspective? Hard to forgive someone who didn’t acknowledge he’d done wrong.
Karl’s perspective? Even harder to forgive anyone—literally any fucker on this planet—who’d hurt Molly.
