She’d come out a few hours later all flustered but excited. “I love the fast pace. It’s invigorating.”
He’d laughed and said, “Well, if you want to try it we can put you to work.”
He figured Willow would say no. She’d had very few jobs in her life. What she had were paid internships at places that were acquaintances of his parents or grandfather.
His mother didn’t work. She never had. His father was a dermatologist. He was one of the meekest men that Dean had ever known. Meek enough that he’d taken his wife’s last name so that he could become an Easton too!
Sure, his father was assertive at work or with his patients if need be, but he wanted money and he knew the gold rush wasthe old man, so he did what Dean’s mom wanted or what the patriarch of the family told him to. He’d bet his grandfather even asked them to name the first grandson after him.
He had always thought his father was weak and that was part of the reason he knew he’d never have the noose around his neck that his family had.
Willow was a prime example.
He worked more than anyone else in his family, but he was free of them and that was worth it. His money was his.
And he was right—Willow lasted one day actually working.
She’d shown up ready to do something the next day and Marcus had her on the line chopping, cleaning, carrying, and being a little slave. By the end of an eight-hour shift, Willow was just as wilted as her namesake tree after a rainstorm.
“I can’t do this,” she’d all but cried. “I need you to take me back to your place so I can soak in your tub.”
“You’ll need to call an Uber,” he said to her. “I’ve got hours left on my shift.”
He’d really expected tears, but she got one and left. When he got home, she was playing with Jonah. But Thursday when he got home, he’d seen her bags packed by the door.
Yesterday he drove her to the airport and she’d said, “Maybe interior design isn’t that bad.”
“So you’ve given up on food already?” he asked, not surprised in the least.
“I didn’t think it was so hard. I just like puttering around in the kitchen.”
“You’re going to have to figure your life out at some point, Willow. Until then, if you’re happy with the cash flow, then you need to suck it up. Is college all that hard?”
“No. And I was thinking, I could meet a lot of men doing interior design. Maybe I’ll land myself a husband and have kidsright away. I won’t work then anyway. All these business courses I’m taking now could help, I suppose.”
He’d given her a hug when he pulled her suitcase out of his SUV and wished her well, but knew she’d never change and that he’d done what he needed to do.
He’d gotten away.
And never once had he thought of a family. Of wanting his own. Of needing that headache.
Until Jonah came into his life and he realized it didn’t have to be the way he grew up.
And maybe he didn’t have to do it alone either.
Yet for four days, twenty hours, and twenty-three minutes, he’d been thinking of Molly. Not that he was counting.
And in all that time, he was trying to figure out how to get right here in her living room to get her to talk to him. Now that he was, he wasn’t sure what to really say other than to be honest.
“I’m not one to believe in too many promises,” she said.
“Probably because we share some common family history,” he said, tilting his head. Though he doubted hers was anything at all close to his. Nor did he have any plans of telling anyone his history.
Which was another reason he didn’t get involved with too many women on a long-term basis. They’d end up asking more questions than he felt comfortable answering.
“I doubt that,” she said and stood up. “Hang on.” She walked out of the room and came back with two cookies in her hand. “I need chocolate. You can have one.”
He took it and smiled, then bit into the warm cookie, the chocolate oozing out when he pulled the bite away. “Just one?” He’d found it funny that she needed a chocolate comfort crutch and knew that she must be just as confused about everything going on as he was.
