Page 43 of Molly's Mr. Wrong
She wandered closer to the boundary fence, where Mike had suggested they plant pansies and violets next spring. She was looking forward to spring and getting this first semester of school under her belt—hopefully with no professional mishaps. She wanted this job nailed down tight. After that she could work on developing a personal life—with the right kind of guy, of course.
Mike’s house was dark except for one light in the living room. And Finn’s truck was parked in the driveway. Molly instantly headed back into the house.
She had grading to do, and worrying about men had taken up too much of her time tonight.
She’d have to make a note of that in her book.
* * *
FINNCOULDHAVEtaken Buddy and spent the evening in the comfort of his own home. Instead he chose to hang out at Mike’s place and wait for his grandfather to return from his date.
Curious?
Totally. And he knew that the window to hear about the date was small. Mike wasn’t a big sharer, but if he caught him right after he got home...well, maybe he’d find out how things went. All things considered, he was glad that Cal and Karl had set Mike up. His grandfather lived a rather lonely existence when he wasn’t at the shop, and dating would be good for him.
Unless the woman broke his heart. That wouldn’t be good. And that was another reason he stayed at Mike’s house. What if things went wrong?
“We’ll hang here, just in case,” Finn told the kitten after he’d fed him. He checked out his grandfather’s DVD collection and then he and Buddy settled in for yet another viewing ofBullitt, one of his favorite old movies.
“Watch this,” Finn murmured as Steve McQueen’s car bottomed out on a San Francisco hill, then realized he was talking to a sleeping cat.
Maybe Mike wasn’t the only one spending too much time alone.
His life had changed so radically since returning stateside. He’d barely contacted his old friends, and didn’t feel his former need to socialize most nights of the week.
Was he getting boring?
Did it matter?
The soft sound of whistling brought his head up after he’d ejected the DVD. Mike rattled his keys, then unlocked the door. The whistling stopped abruptly when he saw Finn still there and the kitten sound asleep on one of the sofa cushions.
“You didn’t go home?”
Finn gave a casual shrug and stuck his hands in his back pockets, like he used to do when he and Mike had serious conversations—conversations that often involved Finn learning some important lesson in life, such as “don’t break windows in vacant houses” and things like that.
“I watchedBullitt.”
“I see.” Mike dropped his keys in the bowl near the door and shrugged out of his jacket.
“So...how was it?”
The look Mike gave him was not what he’d expected. Instead of withdrawing, as Finn had expected, so that he had to dig details out of him, Mike looked as if he was about to go on the offensive.
“Elaine is an interesting woman.”
“Good to hear.”
“She taught for a long time. Twenty-five years.”
“Cool.”
Mike’s mouth shifted a little bit sideways. “She was your science teacher in high school.”
“What?” Finn pulled his hands out of his pockets. “Really? Huh. Small world.”
“It is the Eagle Valley,” Mike said drily. He walked into the kitchen and started the faucet.
Finn followed, waiting until Mike had finished with his drink before asking, “What’s her last name?” He’d had several female science teachers over the years, but one...
