Page 37 of Butter You Up
“Fair enough.”
Ethan and Kit exchange glances, grinning at each other, and I donotwant to know what that’s about.
At my feet, Trixie whines.
The four of us look down at her. Usually, when we come down to the farm stand and the flat lower fields, I let her get some exercise, so I suppose she’s Pavlov-dogging it to stretch her legs. Hell, maybe she’s been training me.
Or, I realize, maybe her nudge to get me to go down just a few minutes ago was self-serving.
Either way, I suppose I should let her go. “Alright, girl, go long.”
Trixie rockets off so fast that she leaves her brains behind. Molly gasps when Trixie leaps through the fence at top speed, but fortunately, this time, she doesn’t whack her noggin’—it’s happened a handful of times before. Instead, she runs like a bat out of hell. When she does this, her ass tucks down, and her hind legs fly out like she’s in position to scoot her butt across the carpet with a case of the worms, but it’s just the zoomies.
We line up at the fence to watch her go, Molly next to me, then Kit, then Ethan. Trixie loops around chicken coops in the flat field a few times, tongue lolling and happy as all get out.
“That’s the smartest dumb dog I’ve ever met,” Ethan states.
“That’s the dumbest smart dog I’ve ever met,” Kit agrees.
The cows, as usual, ignore the dog.
“Easy there,” Ethan mutters as Trixie starts up the hill and then thinks the better of it. On the way back down, as expected, momentum gets the best of her, and she tumbles. It doesn’t slow her down too much though; she’s back up like a flash and shaking it off.
From the side of my eye, I take in Molly. She’s dressed for work, jean shorts, sneakers, and a cotton tank top with a sports bra underneath. Her hair’s up in a bun, wisps sticking to her face. She’s beautiful, as always, but her skin is a little pale, her smile a little tired.
A few more loops around the grass, and Trixie starts to flag. She aims for us again and leaps back out, skidding on the grass and looping back around to flop at my feet, belly up, tongue thick and hanging out of her mouth and acquiring grass flair.
I bend down, placing my hand on the center of her chest. “Good girl,” I say. Her heart beats wild under my palm, and the soft hair on her belly is silky and smooth.
On Trixie’s other side, Molly bends down, too. Just when I thought Trixie couldn’t get any happier, Molly’s smaller hand rests on Trixie’s chest, just above mine where Trixie’s fur does one of those undignified swirls. Molly’s thumb strokes softly, and she coos. “What a good girl you are.”
Our eyes meet over the supine, panting canine, and Molly smiles at me. This close, I can see that fleck of green again, the tiny mole she has just above her left temple—little details that I tuck away to think about later.
Gently, Molly’s finger brushes against one of mine, and heat shoots straight to my crotch.
I straighten up before I get a boner. “Well, I’ve got more to do back up at the barn.” Trixie ungracefully jerks onto her haunches and leans against my calf again.
“Let me walk with you a minute,” Ethan says, and together we start up the hill.
“Something you want to talk about?” I ask when we’ve gotten halfway up the driveway.
“I know Molly’s a grown woman who can take care of herself,” my brother starts, and I tense. Is he going to tell me to leave her alone? Is he worried about me taking advantage of her? “She’s working herself to the bone, though. Gran’s worried. Molly works at your place during the week and mine on the weekends. Plus, she comes up to the house on Wednesdays and works alongside Colleen at the kitchen table, and now she’s putting in extra work renovating your farm shop.”
I grunt. Molly shouldn’t have had to work outside the shop hours, but I guess I didn’t think that part through. I could have told her to shut the shop down for a day or two, but I was too busy avoiding her like an idiot. And now my brother’s noticed the same thing I did—that Molly looks tired—but he’s actually doing something about it.
“I’ll make sure she gets paid for her extra time,” I say.
“If I had more people, I’d offer her a day off, but I don’t really have anyone to spare.”
That’s easier to solve. Imara, my weekend employee who's still in high school, is off for the summer, so I’ll ask her if she can come to work. “I’ll give her some time off here. If she wants it.”
It’ll be a start to taking care of Molly.
CHAPTER22
MOLLY
Of course,the farm shop isn’t fully functional when it opens at nine, but it’s close. Ethan came last night after the shop closed to help me take down the wire racks and fill the holes in the wall. I spend the morning selling milk and eggs, refolding and organizing the rest of the merchandise, and doing my best to hide my yawns from customers.
