His jaw tics. "You can't set an age limit on these things."
"That's what old men who date young women always say!" I throw my hands up. "And you're supposed to be engaged? Do you know how fucked up this is? I can count the layers, Dad."
He takes a deep breath, then surprises me with, "I love her, son."
That wasn't what I expected him to say. I scrub the back of my neck. "Dad, I dated her. I already know that she's kind of a gold digger."
"This is different. I'm telling you, kid. She resisted dating me. She didn't want to get engaged too soon. And she asked me to—" He pauses, sucking in a breath. "To talk to you before we saw you tonight."
"You did a great job with that one, Dad. Way to start a marriage with mutual respect. I'm really glad that my ex is your dream girl." Disappointment threatens to drown me. "Does Mom know?"
Dad flinches. "Not really."
"You don't want to maybe fill her in before some reporter surprises her with the happy news?" I take his measure, then groan. "Oh, no. You want me to do it."
"Tell her or don't." My dad shrugs, looking out into the distance. "Your mom doesn't want to talk to me."
"No. I bet she thanks her lucky stars every day that she's divorced from your ass."
He doesn't even have the decency to look properly ashamed. "Look?—"
Whatever he was going to say is cut off when an exit door opens and Mollie pops her head out to look for me. Our gazes connect and she mouths, “You okay?”
Dad turns toward her. If I felt protective of Mollie before I found out about Naomi, now I'm fucking rabid. I hold up two fingers, asking her for two minutes.
She bobs her head and vanishes. My dad, the wily old bastard that he is, asks, "That your date?"
I start toward the door. "Call Mom. Don't make me tell her that you're marrying someone half her age. And god help us all when a journalist figures out that she used to date me. Our breakup was very public and very one-sided. I’ll let you consider that." And with that, I let myself back into the gala.
On stage, a woman is just beginning to call the crowd to attention. But fuck if I'm staying to hear them glaze my father.
My eyes land on Mollie. She moves closer, tugging my head down to whisper, "Are you okay?"
"No," I say bluntly. "I have to go.”
She frowns. “What? Why?”
My head pounds. “I’ll tell you later. Will you come with me?”
“Sure.” Darting a look out into the crowd, Mollie nods. “Do you want to leave first and I’ll follow?”
Fuck. Yeah, I kind of forgot that she’s off-limits and we’re not publicly a thing. If we were, I’d be able to pull her out of here and wrap my coat around her shoulders.
“You go.” I tilt my head to the exit. “I’ll be right behind you.”
After a couple of minutes of awkward goodbyes to my teammates, I head outside to find Mollie waiting. We don’t talk as we wait for the valet, but I do brush my hand against the small of her back. Her breath hitches with excitement as the car pulls up.
“Finally,” I mutter. I rush her into the backseat of the chauffeured car.
The door closes behind me. Mollie grabs my hand, pulling it into her lap. Before she can even say anything, I grab her and kiss her, hard and possessive.
Chapter Fifteen
Mollie
Alex kisses me in the backseat of the car, and I melt into him with a moan. Curling my hands around his neck, I breathe him in. Cedar, clean soap, and sandalwood. The way he smells, coupled with the faintly sweet taste of his tongue laving mine, almost undoes me.
"Fuck," he mutters. He dips me back, his lips moving down my neck, each one a burning brand that I will never forget as long as I live.
