“You probably travel a lot for work, right?”
My chest tightens at the mention of my job with the basketball team. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. A lot of hotels in a lot of different cities.”
“Okay, so I know you’re not exactly a fan of Little Haven,” Molly starts. “But how does the inn stack up? Is it, like, a roach motel or is it quaint? Where can I improve?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t scoff at a personal turndown service every night from the owner.”
There’s an icy spray of hardened leaves on the back of my neck and I whip around to find Molly standing close by, smirking.
“Seriously, Smith. Give me some feedback.”
“I’m loathe to admit that any part of Little Haven isworthvisiting…” I begin, even as a glance around the winter wonderland reminds me I’m lying to myself. “But if I had to stay here for a while—”
“And you do,” she reminds me. “So, you might as well tell me what you want to see at the inn.”
I clear my throat and put one hand on my hip. “I’d say that the Little Haven Inn is certifiably cute. When you see small towns in movies, they’re so sweet and homey, and I’m not sure I ever thought this place was exactly that when we were growing up. But spending time in your inn, with the cocoa at the front desk and the local chocolates on our pillows at night and the colorful and horny characters staying in your building…”
She laughs at that and puts her own hand on her hip.
“I hate to admit I’m enjoying myself,” I tell her. “Just a little bit.”
“Just a little bit.” Molly’s smile is huge, and it sends a wash of heat across the back of my neck.
I swallow down a lump in my throat and return to my raking. All this time spent talking, and we’ve barely made a dent.
“So, is the hotel all you do for fun?” I ask her. “What do adults in Little Haven do for a good time, anyway? Do you just escalate from getting trashed in the high school parking lot to getting trashed in someone’s actual home? From cow tipping to horse tipping?”
“That’s not a thing,” she says with a laugh. She shrugs and keeps raking. “I actually like to follow the local basketball team. They’re really good, and there’s a reason the school leveled up to hire Mr. Bates this year.”
I raise one eyebrow. “Does this mean you’realsohorny for Mr. Bates? Because Miss Hales knows where you sleep, and I’m afraid that if she learns about your feelings, you might wake up to see her watching you from your bedroom corner.”
Molly gives an exaggerated shiver at that. “Good God. It’s not that I only follow the high school team. I’m just a big basketball fan in general. I watch everything, but I especially love the Atlanta Hawks, the Charlotte Hornets, and the New York Liberty…”
Her voice fades off, and another quick glance over my shoulder reveals how her spine has straightened and the tips of her ears have turned bright red.
So she watches the New York Liberty. She watches my team.
For a moment, the conversation fades out, and we rake in silence. Without the distraction of talking, we’re able to clear a large spot of leaves. The yard doesn’t exactly look well-landscaped, but it is a noticeable improvement. I sweep back a spray of red-brown leaves that have clustered near the base of a tree.
Molly snorts, and I glance over my shoulder as I rake. “What?”
“You’re sogentlewith those leaves. Like, respectful.”
“… Are you seriously criticizing how I help you right now?”
She stops raking and turns to me, smiling. “I’m just saying, you could put some elbow grease into it.”
I make a face as I sling my rake out, scooping back an altogether too big pile of leaves. “Yes, master. Silly me, here I thought I was just being helpful by doing any work at all.”
I’m blindsided by another spray of icy leaves, this time directly in my face. I sputter, spitting out what must surely be tiny bugs living in the foliage. When my mouth is clear, I look up to see Molly grinning and mischievous.
“You did not just do that.”
“Did I mess up your hundred-dollar haircut, Fabio?”
I throw aside my rake and leap forward, tackling her into her pile of leaves. Molly shrieks as she goes down, our bodies crunching together on the semi-frozen stacks.
“Come on!” She yelps. “I haven’t been thrown into a pile of leaves since I was a teenager!”