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Chapter27
Matthew
In all thirty-sixof my years, I’ve never lost my head this much over a woman.
Projects? Sure.
Deadlines? Definitely.
The way I mixed up the wordskickandkinkin a presentation during Plastech’s early funding days? One hundred percent.
But a woman? No.
No one’s infiltrated each and every one of my thoughts the way Molly has. I hadn’t realized how much she occupies my mind until I spent a few hours back in my normal life.Normal. I don’t really know if that word means the same thing it used to.
Every time I watched Aaron’s team, The Wee Warriors, out on the ice, I saw her.
Their red jerseys reminded me of her fiery red hair. The cheering and laughter in the stands sounded like her. The puck was her wide amber eyes.
Molly.
I even worked up the courage to tell Maya that I’m bringing a woman home for Christmas. My arm is probably bruised from where my sister punched me for waiting so long to tell her.
Looking back, I should’ve delivered the news over text.
Would’ve been easier to dodge the full-on interrogation that broke out. But Maya will have to wait to meet my girl like everyone else.
The locks on the townhouse click into place, and I push the heavy weight of the door open.
“I’m in here,” Molly yells from the kitchen.
When I enter, she’s sitting on a barstool. Her curls are tied up into a messy knot above her head, and a pen sticks out from behind her ear.
“Hey.” I smile at her. She frowns, and her forehead creases. “What are you still doing up?”
Did Lance come over while I was gone? Has he convinced her to marry him instead?
Christ. The jealousy in my veins is impossible to ignore.
“I messed up, Matthew, so, so badly.” She slides her laptop aside. “I was trying to make sense of the budget template and get through all of the platters those caterers sent, but I just…I went to get my slippers, and I was going to order pizza and—” Molly sucks in a deep inhale.
“Slow down, darling.” I drop my coat on the kitchen island and place both palms on the stone top, waiting for her to go on.
“Bear ate a jar of caviar, and maybe some cake and crab puffs. He threw up,” she says, her lip trembling. “I called the emergency vet, and they said he’s probably fine but I should keep an eye on him for any signs of distress. He’s been sleeping for the past two hours, and, Matthew, I hurt your cat—”
My laughter bursts out of me, interrupting her. She looks at me in bewilderment. “Baby, relax. Bear’s got a stomach of steel. Seriously, this cat once ate a tub of strawberry ice cream, chewing the compostable lid for dessert.”
“But…” Molly hesitates. “He got sick, because of me.”
Her pout is making my heart burst at the seams.
“He got sick because he hasn’t got a clue about self-control. Cats get sick sometimes,” I assure her. “Thank you for being worried about him. I love—” I hesitate, worry needling the back of my mind. “How much you care.”
“You’re not upset?” Molly bats her lashes up at me, then she lets out a lion-sized yawn.
My dick springs to life. Dammit. This woman can’t do one sweet thing without me turning into a neanderthal.
“Of course not.” I loop around the island, settle myself between her legs as she sits on a stool, and pull her into a hug. Molly leans her head against my chest. The smell of her hair sends a deep comfort through me.
