Chandler snorts into her glass. “You heard me.”
“You have some nerve.”
She laughs. “Hey, calm down—I’m teasing. Don’t you know how to take a joke?”
No. Not now. Not now that I know what that smart mouth feels like against mine…hot and wet and hot.
More intoxicating than the wine in my glass.
I set it down, stone tinging against the fragile crystal. Advance toward her, intent on—
“Whoa baby, you could cut this sexual tension with a knife.” Molly and Chewy are entering the kitchen and she bends to unsnap the leash from his collar, letting him race to his water bowl for hydration.
Fucking Molly, sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.
I grimace at her. “Aren’t you a little young to know what sexual tension is?”
“I’m fifteen.”
“Exactly. You’re still playing with Barbie dolls.”
Molly flips her long blonde ponytail and skewers me with a look only a teenager could manage. “Oh my god, you are so out of touch with reality.”
Chandler laughs.
“You know what you should do?” Molly is glancing back and forth between the pair of us.
“No, but I bet you’re going to tell us.”
The neighbor girl laughs as Chandler filches another chocolate from the candy bowl and peels back the wrapper.
“You should go out.”
My throat makes a sound. “We’ve been out.”
“Please, that was a publicity stunt and we all know it.”
Chandler laughs again, not helping the situation. Molly is worse than my brother, seizing the opportunity, holding us both hostage in my house. I won’t get the kid to leave until she’s said her piece.
“Anyway,” she goes on, voice laden with authority, “you should go on a date—a real one. Not one for the cameras.” The teenager gives me a look that lets me know she knows exactly what I’m up to. “Somewhere fun, where they won’t be following you around.”
Chandler is smiling, all cute and kind and placating. “Oh yeah? Like where?”
“I don’t know… Hmm, the pumpkin patch maybe? One that’s out of the city?”
I cross my arms. “I’m not going to a damn pumpkin patch.”
“You could take Chewy!” Molly enthuses. “Aww, it would be so cute to get pictures of him picking out a pumpkin.”
Okay fine, that would be cute.
I glance down at Chewy, suddenly imagining the little fella prancing in and out of jolly pumpkins while I snap pictures of him on my phone.
I could even get him a little costume and—
“You’re totally thinking about it, aren’t you?” Molly laughs. “Come on, Chandler, don’t you want to?”
I glance away from the dog and up at Chandler, who’s blushing from her cheeks to her hairline, rosy pink and quite…sweet.
Sweet.
Since when am I attracted to women who are sweet?
Since never.
Since…
I found out she wasn’t such an angel after all.
Not boring, not ordinary, not vomit-inducingly kind.
The perfect combination of sweet and salty.
“It’s fine, Molly.” Chandler bows her head, embarrassed. “We appreciate the suggestion, but no woman wants to have a man forced to take her out.” She pauses. “That’s a good lesson for you to learn—we want them to ask us out willingly.”
Is she implying that if Molly weren’t standing here berating us, she’d go on another date with me?
For a brief moment, we’re the only two in the kitchen. “You don’t want to go to the pumpkin farm with us?”
Chewy wags his tail in her direction.
Chandler peeks down at him. “I mean…are you asking?”
My shoulders shrug. “I could do a pumpkin farm.”
Molly squeaks. “Like on an actual date? A real one?”
I nod.
I mean—what’s the harm.
“You should say it out loud so it’s official.”
“Molly, I swear to go—”
She puts her hand in the air, cutting me off. “You need to lay off the pissed-off act. You’re making this way harder than it has to be.” Her lips purse. “Tripp, do you want to take Chandler on a date?”
“I guess.” (Insert metaphorical feet shuffling here.)
Molly cups her ear as if she couldn’t hear my answer. “I’m sorry, can you do better than that?”
“Yes,” I bellow, feeling like a fool. “I want to take her on a date.”
This is worse than having my mother call me on the weekend, waking me up to tell me I’m on the front cover of the morning paper, engaged in PDA.
Satisfied, Molly shifts her attention. “And Chandler, do you take this man to be your lawfully dated date?”
A bubble of laughter comes out of Chandler’s mouth and she puts her head on the counter, shoulders shaking.
She’s fucking laughing! At my expense!
They both are, dammit!
I shoot Molly a stern glare. “Stop making this sound like a goddamn wedding ceremony! It’s weird.”
Now I’m the one who’s blushing and embarrassed.
Freaking teenage girls.
Unfortunately, Molly is nonplussed and quite enjoying the moment. “Dude. You are way too easy to rile up. If you’re not careful, you’re going to give yourself a stroke.”
No shit.
Not like she’s the first person to tell me that, either.
“Well, Chandler? Do you accept his invitation?”