Page 47 of Molly's Mr. Wrong
“I truly doubt I’ll ever use my hiking boots again.”
“Then I’ll feel free to sweat in them.” Georgina grinned at her and disappeared down the hall. “I’m setting my alarm for five o’clock,” she called back. “Do you want me to wake you?”
“No! Tiptoe when you get up.”
“In hiking boots?”
“Do your best.”
Molly put the sweatshirts and jackets back into the storage box and replaced the lid. The red fleece she’d just handed off to her sister had belonged to Blake. She had no idea how it’d escaped the post-breakup purge, but it had and now it would be useful—as long as Georgina didn’t discover who it’d belonged to. If she did, she might just light it on fire.
The protective-loyal gene ran strong in their family. Blake had hurt her sister, therefore Blake was the devil.
But honestly, just as she’d recently noted in her notebook, there’d been some good to their relationship. Blake had taught her that risk-taking had rewards as well as consequences, and sometimes it was better to throw caution to the wind and feel truly alive than to sit at home, where it was safe. All he asked in return was that she manage his life. Handle the day-to-day stuff. Be there when he came home from the road. Be his partner and his problem-solver.
Where she’d messed up was in believing that they had the same ideas on finance and fidelity. They did not.
Not even close.
The result had been humiliating. Apparently everyone in Blake’s sphere had known about the other women. Everyone. And when she’d found out, she’d felt so duped. So stupid.
So very angry.
But thanks to the anger, she’d grown a backbone.
The bottom line was that she didn’t mind being charmed, but she wanted to feel...safe...in the process. In control. She was looking for the antithesis of Blake—someone sedate and trustworthy and predictable. She was definitely not getting deeply involved with someone she didn’t know inside and out, someone she wasn’t positively certain she could trust.
But would she get minorly involved?
That was the question niggling at her. The question she shoved aside as she brewed tea and dived into her grading. Sometimes it was simply better not to think too much.
* * *
GEORGINAWASLONGGONEby the time Molly got out of bed the next morning. Chase had brought a map of the area where they planned to hike, and Georgina had left it on the kitchen table with a note telling her to expect them back in mid-to late afternoon.
And she’d made coffee. Molly gratefully poured a cup from the carafe and hugged it with both hands as she sat at the table. She’d stayed up late finishing her grading, so the day stretched ahead of her. There was so much she could be doing around the house that she really wasn’t certain where to start.
Laundry. Always laundry.
So the morning went. Molly caught up on the laundry, hanging out sheets and towels on the backyard clothesline, washing her delicates in the kitchen sink and drying them on a rack in the utility room.
She swept, mopped, polished and then just after lunch, figuring it was five o’clock somewhere, poured herself a glass of wine. She’d no sooner put the cork in the bottle than there was a knock on the door.
Mike stood on the porch and Molly opened the door wider when she saw that it was him. “I’m having a little barbecue this afternoon with a friend of mine. Would you and Georgina like to join us?”
“Georgina is hiking with Chase today. She won’t be back until late afternoon.”
“How about you, then? You don’t want to spend your day all alone, do you?”
Well...honestly...yes...
But something in the old man’s expression made her say, “I’d love to come over. What should I bring?”
“Just yourself. I have the steaks and my lady friend is bringing the side dishes. Finn covered dessert.”
Molly had half expected that Finn would be there and now she had confirmation.
“What time?”
