Page 59 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

She means the house, but I mean so much more when I reply, “This is most definitely the one.”

Molly squeals, kisses me, then spins out of my arms to snatch up her laptop bag. We head back to my truck for privacy from any homeowner cameras, but don’t leave the curb while she writes up the offer. I suggest full price and she scoffs, telling me that’s why I hired her: to save me from making a mistake that will cost me money. I don’t think she has any idea how many zeros Kaitlyn negotiated in my contract. If she did, she wouldn’t be squabbling over twenty-thousand dollars.

But that’s one of the things I love about her. Yes, love. She’s down to earth and not sporting stars in her eyes because of my profession. I can trust her, and in the harsh world I grew up in, trust is everything.

My phone buzzes again and I take it out, ripping my gaze away from Molly’s feet in those heels. I was envisioning them on my shoulders, a repeat of our first date. This time it’s Ashley calling me, instead of texting. I answer, wincing when she immediately gives me shit for missing our morning session.Molly gasps and I realize Ashley’s talking so loudly Molly can hear her every word.

“You missed your session, Robert?” Molly asks me in that sexy scolding mom voice.

I cover up the phone. “Yeah. A couple, actually.” Molly’s mouth forms an accusatory O. “But I’ve been doing so well!”

Ashley chirps in my ear. “Is that Molly? Put me on speaker so I can ask her exactly how well—or not—you’ve been doing.” The two haven’t officially met, but I’ve talked freely with each of them about the other.

I hang my head but comply, hitting the button on my dash to put Ashley through the Bluetooth speakers. “Ashley, this is Molly. Molly, this is Ashley,” I grumble.

“Hi Ashley. I apologize for Bobby wasting your time this morning. I hate it when I have clients who do that to me.”

Well, shit. That makes me feel even worse. I can’t believe Molly’s had clients do a no-show on her. I make a mental note to ask her for exact names later.

Ashley chuckles. “Nice to meet you, Molly. It’s fine. I work from home so I can just do laundry or something when a client ditches our scheduled meeting. But, I’m committed to my clients getting better and if they miss, we can’t work on their issues. Bobby is doing so great, but it’s not like you can reprogram an entire childhood in a few weeks, you know?”

Molly moans. “I totally understand that. Therapy is lifelong, actually. I spent months in therapy after my ex-husband and I divorced, and that was amicable!”

The ladies keep chatting back and forth. I finally grab the door handle, thinking I’ll give the two of them some space to chat without me, but Molly snags my arm, her nails digging in just enough for me to know she means business.

“Do you have time right now to work with Bobby? I can step outside to give you privacy,” Molly offers.

“I sure do!” Ashley responds.

Molly reaches for the door handle, but I pull her back. “Stay. Please?”

Molly searches my face and then finally dips her head in agreement.

“We left off talking about childhood issues, Bobby. Do you feel comfortable talking about your mother?”

I rest my head back and wonder how the hell I got here. Then I feel Molly take my hand, lacing her fingers through mine, and I know exactly why I’m here. I want to do everything in my power to be a good man. A man she trusts her son with. A man she can open her heart to. Maybe it started out with saving my job, but I’m in this to win Molly.

Lifting my head, I look her in the eyes. “I don’t have any secrets from Molly, so let’s chat.”

“Ahh, that’s so sweet,” Ashley gushes over the speakers. Molly squeezes my fingers, and I shoot her a wink. “So last time you said your mother was your favorite parent. Can you explain that comment?”

I blow out a breath and think about growing up the youngest of five boys. The way my father ruled our house with a raised voice and physical reminders that he was more powerful than us. He was never what I would consider abusive, but he wasn’t warm and cuddly either.

“My dad is the kind who thinks crying is for pussies, pardon my language. He’d yell at us all the time and wasn’t afraid to wrestle us boys into submission when we gave him problems. Mom, on the other hand, is sweet. To this day I can’t fathom how she ended up with my dad, but they make it work.”

“She sounds like a safe haven. Is that how you see her?” Ashley asks.

I roll that around my brain. “Yeah, I would say so. She would always come to my room after Dad yelled at me or my brothersbeat the snot out of me. She’d sit on the side of my bed and stroke my hair, talking softly about anything and everything until I was ready to talk about the argument. She made living in that house tolerable.”

Molly sniffs, and I’m horrified to see a sheen of tears in her eyes. She waves my concern away and blinks rapidly. Ashley makes some affirmative noises before speaking.

“I wonder how much that maternal influence has to do with your relationship with Molly. You’re a mom, right, Molly?”

“I am. My son is twelve and he can be described as a handful with a heart of gold.”

“I love that. Sounds familiar,” Ashley says. “Bobby, did you know she was a mom when you first met Molly?”

I nod, then realize she can’t see me. “Yes, I met her at the rink when she would drop off Matthew for practice. She’s a good mom. One of the best. I love that about her.”

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