“
Terminator Salvation?
Really?” Brady chuckled at her choice.
“What can I say? I love action movies. And Christian Bale and Sam Worthington aren’t exactly hard to look at.”
“Just when I think I can’t like you more,” he said and pressed a kiss against the top of her head.
Molly couldn’t stifle the little thrill that erupted in her chest at his words. Even though she knew better than to read anything into it, she couldn’t deny that it felt good, snuggled up on the couch next to Brady, watching the movie in companionable silence as they shared a bottle of wine.
Not just good. She felt… comforted. And cared for.
Almost like they were a real couple.
Don’t. Don’t let yourself go there. You know better.
And yet, that didn’t stop her from laying her head against his shoulder, from letting herself enjoy the feeling of his fingers gently caressing her neck and shoulders. From letting herself imagine what it would be like to come home to this every night.
God, it would be so easy to fall in love with him.
Who says you haven’t already?
For once, she didn’t nip the thought in the bud. Even though it was foolish. Even if it threatened to send her heart in a direction it had no business going. Tonight she didn’t want to over analyze and fight with herself.
Tonight she wanted to savor the experience of being with Brady absent the frenzy of sexual heat. Imagine that he could care for her beyond what happened in the bedroom.
The wine and the steady sound of his heartbeat in her ear had her drifting off. She woke, disoriented, as he was lifting her off the couch.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up, but I figured you’d be more comfortable in your bed,” he said as he carried her down the hall.
“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight,” she said around a yawn as he deposited her on her bed. “I promise I’ll be more fun if you come over tomorrow.”
He sat down on the bed next to her and gave her a kiss that warmed her to the tips of her toes. “I always have fun with you. Speaking of fun, I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could try something different.”
“Different how?” she asked warily as visions of handcuffs and riding crops jumped into her head.
“There’s a restaurant over in Livingston I’ve been wanting to try. I was thinking tomorrow after we close, I could take you to dinner.”
Her whole body jerked in surprise. “You mean, like a date?”
“Exactly like that.”
Somehow the idea struck her as even more preposterous than the idea of the handcuffs and whip. “Brady, I think I’ve proven I’ll put out. You don’t have to buy me dinner first.”
His fingers curled against the bedspread, and she could sense he was getting frustrated. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
“Why?” She wondered why she was pushing it, even as her heartbeat kicked up at the possibilities.
He leaned in closer and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Molly, did it ever occur to you that maybe I want to be more to you than a midnight fuck buddy?”
He gave her hard, hungry kiss. “See you tomorrow,” he said and left before she could get over her shock enough to form a response.
Chapter 12
Brady pulled up to Molly’s house the next evening, feeling as excited as a teenager who’d scored a date with the captain of the cheerleading squad. Which, given the intimate knowledge he had of every inch of her body, was kind of ridiculous.
Still, that didn’t keep his stomach from buzzing with anticipation as he walked to her front door with a bouquet of flowers clutched in his fist.
He’d acted on impulse last night, both in asking her out and in blurting out that he wanted to move past the friends who fuck stage onto something bigger.
A thought which had never occurred to her if the look of abject shock on her face had been anything to go by.
But she hadn’t tried to cancel, and when he’d texted her earlier to tell her he’d pick her up at 7:30, she’d replied, "OK".
It might be just a dinner date, but it was a step in the right direction. Damned if he wasn’t going to run with it.
She opened the door at his knock, a curiously shy smile on her face. His own grin spread across his face when he saw what she was wearing. Her black skirt clung to the curves of her hips and thighs and ended just above her knees. She was wearing tights in deference to the fall chill, and he noticed, his grin widening, she was wearing the same black heels he hadn’t been able to enjoy the night before.
Topped with a silky, emerald green blouse unbuttoned to show just the barest hint of her ample cleavage, she looked classy and sexy and so fuckable that if he didn't feel so much riding on this first official date he would have pushed her back into the house and done her until she couldn’t walk straight.
“You look great,” he said.
“So do you.” Her admiring gaze made him glad he’d taken the extra time to dig his iron out of the closet and run it over his button down shirt and jeans.
“You got me flowers?” she said, looking wide eyed at the bouquet he’d forgotten he was carrying.
“Isn’t that what people do?” he said as he handed them over and followed her inside so she could put them in water.
“I have no idea.” She laughed ruefully as she rummaged through a cabinet next to the refrigerator. “I think the last time someone gave me flowers was when Josh pinned on my corsage at prom.”
She pulled out a vase and filled it with water. Once the flowers were taken care of she turned back to him.
“Should we go?” she said and started for the door.
“Don’t you want a jacket or anything? It’s a little cold.”
She stopped short and gave her head a little shake. “Of course,” she said with a laugh, “and it would be good to have my keys and purse too.”
She took a short black wool coat out of the closet and reached for her purse where it sat on a table in her entryway. It slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground, sending lipstick and loose change scattering across the wood floor.
“Ugh, I’m such a klutz,” she muttered as Brady bent down to help her gather everything up.
She took a deep breath as they both stood. “I’m nervous,” she blurted out. “I don’t know why, I mean, it’s just you, and it’s not like we haven’t…” she trailed off.
Brady grabbed her by the hand, pulled her against him, and kissed her. It took a few seconds, but soon she was melting against his chest, her lips parting under his as her hands stole up around his neck.
“Better?” he murmured after several long moments.
“Yeah,” she breathed, and let him help her with her coat.
It was a half hour drive to Livingston, during which they made small talk about the
Simply Delicious
shoot coming up in a couple of days. Though the conversation came easily, he could sense Molly was still on edge.
After a lull, she finally addressed the elephant in the room. Or the truck, as it were.
“So, what you said last night, did you mean it?”
He didn’t bother asking her to clarify. “Yeah, I did.” He kept his gaze focused on the road.
She was silent for several moments, then. “Brady, I’m not sure I’m ready for more. I was with Josh for a long time, and I don’t just want to jump into something so quickly—”
He cut her off. “I’m not talking marriage and babies.”
Yet.
He reached across the bench seat and found her clenched hand in her lap. “I know what you’ve been through, and I know we need to take it slow.” He pulled her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back. “I’m just asking you to take a chance so we can see where this can go.”
His stomach clenched as he waited for her reply, feeling like his entire future was teetering in the balance.
“Okay.”
He almost sagged over the steering wheel in relief.
###
As they walked hand in hand into the restaurant, Molly decided this must be what skydiving felt like. Equal parts exhilarating and terrifying, hurtling yourself face first into danger, knowing that if anything went wrong you would find yourself smashed into the earth, broken apart into a million pieces.
Because she knew that despite her feeble protests about not being ready, about going slow, if things didn’t work out with Brady she would end up as broken as a skydiver jumping without a chute.
She thought she’d been so careful, keeping her guard up, her emotions out of it. But all it had taken was Brady’s declaration of wanting “more”—whatever that meant—to punch through her feeble defenses and send all of the emotions she’d been trying to deny spilling out.
She was in love with Brady. It didn’t matter that she was sleeping with him on the rebound, or that he was the antithesis of the kind of man she’d ever imagined being with.
At least he’d appeared to be. But his relationship with Jordan, and the kind, caring side he’d shown since her break up with Josh had her seriously reconsidering.
Baby steps,
she cautioned herself, even as a little thrill shivered through her as Brady placed a proprietary hand at the small of her back as the hostess led them to their table.
“So how are you doing?” Brady asked after the waitress had taken their drink order and left them to contemplate the menu. “You, know after last night.”
She shrugged, and took a sip of her water, forcing it past the sudden tightness in her throat. “I’m okay. Better than last night anyway.” She flashed him a little smile. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot today, and even though it wasn’t the answer I wanted, at least it was an answer. In the end it was just easier to let us go. I’m not going to say it doesn’t hurt, but I have Mom and Ellie. It’s not like I’m alone in the world. And hopefully by now I’ve learned my lesson not to chase after men who would just as soon have me fade away.”
“No you’re not.” He smiled and reached across the table to take her hand. “For the record, you’ll never have to chase me. And if I was ever lucky enough to have a daughter like you, I’d never let her go.”
Holy crap, is he actually talking kids?
Molly’s vision went wonky as simultaneous feelings of panic and delight rushed through her, leaving her dizzy.
Fortunately the waitress arrived with their drinks—vodka tonic for Molly and a beer for Brady—giving her a moment to composer herself.
She and Brady did a quick consult with the waitress about what appetizers to order. After she left, Brady lifted his glass to hers. “Cheers.”
“To first dates,” Molly said as she clinked her glass to his.
“And hopefully a hell of a lot more,” he replied with a grin. He took a sip of his beer, then said, his smile fading, “I don’t think anyone purposely plans to give their kids the shaft, but not everyone is cut out to be a parent. Mine sure as shit weren’t.”
There was no mistaking the bitterness as he took another sip of his beer.
He’d alluded to his troubled family life plenty of times, but this was the first time he’d outright brought up the subject. “How so?”
He gave a rueful smile. “You sure you want to know about this?”
“If we’re going to date, shouldn’t I know a little bit more about you?”
He gave her a begrudging nod. Still, she could see the gears turning in his head as he contemplated exactly how much information to impart. “They were married too young—my mom got pregnant with Connie when she was only sixteen. My dad was nineteen, and family lore has it that the only reason he married her was because my grandfather threatened dire consequences if he didn’t.”
“Must have been pretty dire,” she said and took another sip of her wine.
“I believe it was something involving Granddad’s shotgun and my dad’s ball sack. And my granddad wasn’t the kind of guy who made empty threats.” He smiled grimly. “Anyway, they were young and wanted to drink and party and whatever else teenagers with no plan and no prospects want to do. Having kids cramped their style. Connie and I were left to fend for ourselves most of the time. She ended up following our parent’s blue print—minus the husband—and I decided to get the hell out.”
“That’s why you joined the military.”
He nodded. “Got a one way ticket to basic, and vowed I’d never go back.”
“But you did for Jordan,” she said, her heart swelling a little at the reminder that no matter how much he resented his family and wanted to escape his hometown, his devotion to his nephew won out. “That must have been hard, going back after so long.”
He shrugged and took a sip of his beer, but she could see his tightness in his jaw. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but I was happy to get the hell out and come back here.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Best thing for Jordan to get out too. I should have taken him with me back then.”
The waitress arrived with their appetizers, and they were quiet for several moments as they tasted their food.
“This is really good,” Molly said, nudging the plate of seared scallops over risotto toward Brady as he passed her the crab cakes. “But I bet you could make it better,” she gave him a cheeky grin.
“Damn straight I can.”
Their talk turned to lighter topics, and with every passing moment Molly felt herself relax. All of the anxiety over their seemingly momentous decision to take the next step in their relationship faded into the background.
He’s still just Brady, she realized. The gorgeous, sexy, funny, gruff man who teased her and joked with her, then listened to her talk about her worries and fears as though he was really interested.
Because—light bulb—maybe he really was.
And let’s not even get started on how he made her feel in bed… Nothing had really changed.
The only difference was that now she had the freedom to acknowledge and indulge in all of the emotions she’d been struggling to keep bottled up these last few weeks.
And damn it, freedom felt good. If not a little scary.
By the time their main courses arrived, Molly was feeling buzzy from her cocktail and the feeling that tonight the possibility of a great, bright future had opened up in front of her.
And that little voice that cautioned her not to throw herself all in so quickly, especially so soon after Josh, was quickly stifled when she met Brady’s warm gaze across the table.