I sigh and run my hands through my hair. “But it’s all that sameness that’s kind of a problem for me, right? Molly is fantastic, and I really, really missed her. But she’s so Little Haven. And if there’s only one thing I ever chose for myself, it’s to get past what I had here. I’ve got to separate those things out.”
“Seriously?”
I shake my head and put up my hands, innocent. “Definitely not going to pursue your sister. There will be no need for shotguns.”
“You two were trading jokes like fuckin’ Gilmore Girls back at the inn. I half-expected Lorelei and Rory to make out, and I half-expect it from you and Molly, too.”
“They were mother and daughter, genius.”
I frown, that weighted feeling in my gut solidifying. Damn it, Hunter. We might not have many common interests anymore and we might have just spent an entire adulthood apart, but here he is, proving once again that he’ll always know me.
I run my hands through my hair, then down over my face. It suddenly feels like I didn’t sleep a wink last night.
Which, okay, maybe I didn’t sleep very well, knowing Molly Moore was sleeping in her own room right across the hall from mine. I wonder if she got cold during the snow last night. If she was cozy under all her blankets or if she needed a man to slip under the sheets and fit his body up to that round ass… to rub his hands up and down her arms and warm her up…
My dick jerks in my jeans. I have a friggin’ problem.
I shake my head again. “Look, I’m just in Little Haven to keep my head down until Gunderson says it’s okay for me to return to work. Your sister is cute—”
“Mhmm?” Hunter suppresses a massive smirk and cocks his head at me.
“Butshe’s also a distraction. I’m not trying to get involved, man. I’m just here to let you fatten me up and to hear aboutyoursexual exploits.”
“Of which there are many,” he says proudly, chest puffing out. Our plates slide through the window and he shoves mine at me. “You carry around enough massive plates of meat and the girls pick up on the euphemism, trust me.”
“Lord,” I complain with a laugh.
I follow Hunter out from behind the counter and toward an emptied table near the front of the restaurant. There’s a buzz in my pocket, and I balance the plate to fumble for my phone. I pull it out, glancing at the tiny screen.
It’s a notification from Sports Center:
Alex Weston in talks to take over for ousted Gray Smith?
My stomach turns, and I shove the phone back in my pocket. My teeth grind together as I find a seat across from Hunter and set my plate down.
Keeping my head down isn’t just a recommendation; it’s a necessity if I want this paid leave to stayleaveinstead of a permanent displacement.
Molly Moore is pretty. Okay, fine, I’ll admit that she’s more than pretty. I’ll admit that when I thought about her last night in bed, my hand wandered down between my thighs and I’d slowly rubbed my cock and cupped my full, heavy balls, thinking about cuddling up with her. I’d turned on my side and watched the door, damn near burning a hole through it to the other side where she slept as I fisted my head over and over and over again until hot, sticky cum squirted up across my abdomen and ruined my sheets for the maid in the morning.
But Molly Moore is also not what I saw for myself. She’s so Little Haven, when I always knew I was going to pick up and leave. And now I know just as assuredly that I need to get back to the city. I need to get back to where I belong.
I’ve got to focus up and keep a professional distance from her. I’ve got to play this smart.
“You’re thinking about my sister again,” Hunter muses as he wolfs down a massive bite of ribs.
I glower at him as I commit to my rib platter, as well as ruining the expensive white button down I came in wearing.
CHAPTER FOUR: MOLLY
“No, no,no.”
It’s a winter wonderland outside. Little Haven never gets a lot of snow, and last night we got more than our fair share. The world is white and glittering and the air is crisp in that kind of way that fills up your lungs and baptizes the inside of you.
The only problem? The inside of the rec center is white and glittering and crisp cold, too.
Miss Harbaugh, the Parks and Rec official I’ve been working with, is already on the phone with someone to come clear out the snow that has drifted in through a wide, jagged hole in the ceiling. Her face is white as she watches a fat, glittering snowflake drift just in front of her small, wrinkled nose.
I put my hands on my hips, stomach positively churning as I walk through the snow damage. I glance up at the ceiling again, wondering how it was even possible Little Haven got enough snow to damage a roof.