He flipped her off with both middle fingers.
Unruffled, she chewed for a while before swallowing her last bite of buttered toast. “If you can’t decipher subtext, that’s not my fault, Dean.”
Trying his hardest not to laugh, he sneered across the table at her. “Screw you, Dearborn.”
“Already did that.” Appearing contemplative, she glanced down at her cotton-covered chest. “And all I got was four orgasms and this lousy yet very comfortable T-shirt.”
When he broke and laughed, she did too.
Just another reason this was the best morning of Karl’s life, bar fucking none.
After he’d gone down on Molly until her thighs shook and her voice was hoarse from loud moaning rather than tears, he’d texted his nosy family, mowed Mrs. C’s lawn before the older woman put out a goddamn APB on him, then showered, called Charlotte to check on her and the kids, and eaten the breakfast Molly fixed for them both.
Now they were sitting at his kitchen table, sipping coffee. First cup for each. Still felt like he’d pounded a billion lattes with all the energy pumping through his bloodstream, and his brain was working like a champ despite his lack of sleep.
Turned out, pure goddamn joy was the world’s most powerful upper. Which he now knew, solely because of Molly fucking Dearborn.
Part of him had loved her for over twenty years. Now part of him had become all of him, and he could admit it to himself. Wasn’t even scared anymore. Not after the past twenty-four hours of great sex and communication fucking galore.
Basically everything Matthew and Athena had wanted him to do? Herebydone.
He and Molly had exchanged personal histories, and after the whole audiobook-collection reveal, she clearly knew how he felt about her. If that hadn’t clued her in, the way he’d touched her should’ve done the trick. And her opening up to him like she had, in bed and out? Told him she felt the same way about him. No declarations necessary, on either side.
For the first time, he was actually anticipating that stupid reunion. Because it wasn’t marking an end for him and Molly—itwas celebrating a small part of their new beginning. Also because an amazing idea had just surfaced in his super-sharp post-bedding-Molly brain.
After all those Nasty Wenches meetings and all of Sadie Brazen’s crackpot plots, he knew exactly what should happen at the reunion. Sure, he wasn’t an abduction-happy Australian marsupial, a cobra shifter, or a weirdo sexy Satan, but...
No way they were hanging out at the reunion as mere attendees, just two more chumps who’d been browbeaten or bribed by Janel into awkwardly socializing until they could make their grand goddamn escape.
He had bigger plans.Waybigger.
“Been thinking about the reunion,” he told Molly. “Normal date isn’t good enough. Over the—”
She frowned. “Good enough for what?”
“—past couple of years, I’ve listened to a crapload of your books—”
“Sadie Brazen’s books,” she corrected, because the woman couldn’t help herself.
“—and also read a crapload ofother‘spicy’”—he crooked his fingers into air quotes, because Molly ate that shit up—“romances for the book club, so I know how this whole damn situation is supposed to go.”
“Do you?” She raised a single eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Do you really, Karl?”
He pointed at her. “You’re the girl who left her hometown in a hurry, returning for the reunion with something to prove.” He jerked his thumb toward his chest. “I’m—”
“I have nothing to prove to anyone. Here or anywhere else.”
“—the sexy bad boy who stayed in town and made good, andnow it’s your chance to show everyone who teased and bullied you that you’re successful and happy and banging your love interest like you’re both literal fucking bunnies. The horniest bunnies on the entire damn planet.”
Silence. Lots of silence.
She blinked at him for a minute, blank-faced.
“Holy wow, Dean,” she finally said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so many words at one time. Ever. And I don’t understand what in the world you’re talking about. No one teased me. No one bullied me.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He waved that off. “Let’s keep talking about our plan.”
Her forehead puckered. “We don’t have a plan, Dean.Youhave a distorted reimagining of our high school history and a cockamamie, middle-aged version of every Hollywood teen movie that’s ever existed.” She took a sip of her coffee. Thought for a moment. “Not to mention several Netflix original films. Amazon too. Possibly Hulu.”
