Except maybe his commitment to his brand of hair products and the specific order of their application. His insistence on that front was straight up adorably funny.
She kicked back in her chair to continue her observation of both Gavin and his savant ability to knit and Charlie and Agnes and whatever was going on with them. She flipped through her phone to the webpage for the radio contest and stilled.
“Holy crap,” she said, her lungs not pulling in air. “What?” Gavin asked.
“Peter and Chris’s couple just broke up.” Molly held up the phone. “Like, they’re done. I’m in first place.” She shook her head. “I mean we’re in first place. Charlie and Agnes are. With, you know, me. And you’re here, but not for cash. You know what I mean.”
Gavin said, “I’d like to say that’s fantastic…”
“But the other couple broke up.” She pulled a yeesh face. “Emotions are kind of complicated with things like this.”
Gavin nodded.
“You know what’s not complicated?” she asked. “What?”
“I could get my house!” She did a little it-could-maybe-
sort-of-happen dance with her feet.
“You keep celebrating. I’m going to see if they have any of those longer needles,” Gavin said, standing. “I think those might be better.”
“Longer is always better,” Molly agreed. Then she smiled. “Everything’s coming up Molly.”
He just shook his head and headed toward the door to the front of the shop. And then Cassidy walked right into him.
Literally, like they were in a romance movie on one of those cable channels. Latte in hand, kid in tow—a mini version of Cassidy.
Molly’s contentment fizzled straight away, replaced by the chilly hand of reality.
A reality of expiration dates and the end of side trips through the country.
“Oh my gosh,” Cassidy said, holding back the paper cup so it didn’t spill all over Gavin.
He reached to steady her, his hands perfectly meant for her shoulders.
Molly suddenly felt like she’d eaten a whole bowl full of dust bunny soup. The universe seemed to still. Heck, she could even see each individual dust mote in the sunshine beam as Gavin’s future collided with his present.
Literally collided. She gulped.
“Gavin, hi. Again.” Cassidy stepped out of his hands. But Molly didn’t miss the spark there between them. Hell, there may as well have been fireworks going off with big arrows pointing them together.
“Hi, Cass,” Gavin said, stepping back, looking to Molly.
“Molly,” he said. “You remember Cassidy.”
Molly didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. Because she couldn’t do either. Couldn’t do anything but watch the car wreck in front of her.
“Don’t even think about it,” Gavin said, low, in her direction.
He said that to her; she was sure. And she wanted to make a joke about how she didn’t need to think about setting him up with the woman of his future, because that perfect woman kept finding her way right into his path. No Molly set-ups even needed.
She wanted to be funny. To be silly.
But she couldn’t even seem to form a syllable.
Thankfully, Agnes and Charlie were in their own little bubble, snipping about B-3 and why that wasn’t a winning letter-number combination.
In any case, Agnes didn’t catch the Molly vibe. How that vibration had suddenly changed. Not for the better, either.
