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With a lump the size of Venus stuck at the back of her throat, she handed her empty bottle back to Zach without saying a word. He, more than anyone, knew the pain she’d endured from Chess’s endless bullying. He knew how many pillows had been soaked from her tears. How many meals had been eaten in silence because she’d been miserable. He knew how she’d despised the image she saw in the mirror because it was Bones Malone staring back.
Molly had thought she’d grown up and moved on, but in the space of five minutes, ten years was erased in a heartbeat.
Someone threaded their arm through hers, and she looked to the side, surprised to see Jess standing there.
“I didn’t know Nate was bringing her here. I’m sorry.”
Molly attempted a smile. Great. Zach must have filled her in on the sad history of Molly and Chess. “It’s okay. Nathan can bring whoever the hell he wants.”
Jess’s eyes softened, and she squeezed Molly’s arm. “I know. But I’m still sorry.”
“Thanks,” she said slowly, grateful for the support and ashamed of her previous behaviour. Could this day not be over already?
Nate stood near the guys, Chess stuck to him like glue, though his eyes were on Molly. His expression was shuttered, and damn but that ache where her heart was supposed to be was back.
She felt like everything was about to go sideways, as if things had changed and there was no going back to what it was.
“He can never know,” Molly whispered.
“What was that?” Jess asked.
Startled, she looked at brother’s fiancée and tried to smile. “Nothing.” Her eyes found their way back to Nate, only to find him still staring at her. His expression was unreadable, and for the first time, she felt fear.
I love him was her first thought, which was something she’d never admitted before and for good reason—love and Nate and Molly were three things that didn’t belong together.
This is going to be a disaster was her second thought. And she’d be right. Of course she’d be right, because her third thought pretty much said it all.
She looked away from Nate and her heart sank.
I’m so screwed.
Chapter Two
Nate Jacobs’s dad had once told him that the key to happiness was simple. It involved three rules. One, live your life without worrying what others think of you. Two, never leave the toilet seat up. And three, the opposite sex wasn’t built to be understood, so don’t even try. Nate’s dad was the happiest guy he knew, and after thirty-two years of marriage, his parents were still going strong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Samuel Jacobs knew what he was talking about.
Especially the opposite-sex part.
As it turned out, Nate had had a lot of interaction with the female sex. It started early, way before he even discovered that he actually liked girls. Back then, all he cared about was hockey, baseball, football, and his buddies. Free time was usually spent at the Jacobs home, tossing the football in the backyard or playing road hockey at the end of the street. But the summer he turned thirteen, Daisy Brookfield and Janice Hansen had started hanging out on the street, watching the boys play. The consensus was that the guys didn’t like girls—and Molly didn’t count—so they ignored them.
But by early August, something changed. Nate decided Daisy Brookfield wasn’t so bad after all. She had long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. She liked to laugh, and she liked hockey. She also had boobs. The Saturday night of Labor Day weekend, she kissed him behind the dugout while everyone else was at the fish fry. He didn’t mind it so much, though it was kinda wet and slimy. But the big deal was that she let him touch her boobs, and then she asked him if he wanted to see them. Of course he’d said yes. What guy wouldn’t? She’d lifted her shirt, undone her bra, and he practically lost his mind (not that he knew what to do with them). He decided he liked girls after all, especially Daisy Brookfield, and he never looked back.
Things were good for Nate Jacobs. At the age of thirty, he was single, loving his life, and happy to be home for two weeks visiting his family and the best friends a guy could have. But last night, something had been off. And that something was Molly Malone.
It was Sunday morning, and Nate was sitting outside on the back deck of the house he grew up in, nursing a cold coffee. He’d been out here for at least half an hour, replaying everything that had happened at Stu’s. It had been a great night until Chess Somers called him out of the blue. Said she’d heard he was back in town when she’d picked up her dry cleaning. He knew she was divorced—they’d hooked up a few months back when she’d come to New York City for a girl’s weekend—so he didn’t see a problem bringing her to Stu’s.
Hell, it wasn’t as if they didn’t know her. Sure, there was drama back in the day—he knew Molly wasn’t a fan—but the reaction from Zach and Molly and the rest of the guys was, to say the least, a little unexpected. You’d think he’d brought the damn devil to the party.
Everyone was polite and all, but he knew his pals well enough to know he’d crossed some invisible line he knew nothing about. And to top it off, Nate could have sworn he’d seen hurt in Molly’s eyes, which was the reason he was sitting back here with a scowl on his face and a confusion so deep, he didn’t know what to do.
She was the last person he’d ever want to hurt.
Shit, he thought, sinking deeper into the chair, this must have something to do with that night in Vegas. It’s just, he thought they’d got that all squared away. In his mind, they were good. And maybe they were. Maybe he’d misread everything.
“Why are you frowning so damn hard this early in the morning?”
Nate looked up as his dad sat down across from him, a steaming cup of java in hand. His old man was in nothing but a pair of boxers, which mirrored Nate. And for one weird moment, it was like looking into his future. He was, if nothing else, nearly Samuel’s doppelgänger. At fifty-five, his dad was in great shape. Hell, he looked better than a lot of men half his age. As part owner of the biggest construction company in the area, he kept busy. And he was the guy who liked to get his hands dirty, which meant he spent a lot of time on site. He visited the gym on a regular basis, but in Nate’s opinion, his dad looked great because the man was happy.
His grandmother had once told him that nothing ages you more than stress or unhappiness, and Nate was pretty sure she was right.
