Mollywood (17 page)

I noticed Francis’s pensive expression as he watched Kelly interact with Mac. It was obvious that he was picking up on their chemistry, but how he felt about it was uncertain. Unlike Joe, Francis could have made a killing at Caesar’s Palace.

My phone rang, and I saw it was Isaac calling.

“SOS.” He blurted into the phone when I answered, and I knew they needed me back at the truck.

“I gotta go y’all. If you want some brisket, sounds like you’d better head this way, too.” I announced, my traitorous eyes slipping toward Joe. He looked up from brushing off his jeans, which had caught some splatter from his prank on Mac. I started up the hill, and the wriggling below my belly button kicked in again. My hand went to my bump and for a fraction of a second, I slowed my step.

“Is something wrong?” It was Francis, not Joe, who appeared beside me. I searched the crowd and saw Joe had hung back, still chatting with the twins. He caught me watching him, and when our eyes met, he quickly looked away.

“Nope. Not at all.” I forced a smile, and the aftertaste of that lie stayed with me the rest of the night.

“WHERE’S NICK?” MAC’S question interrupted my carving for the third time in an hour, and I rolled my head back with a heavy sigh.

“I thought he was helping you.” I tossed down my straight chisel and cracked my knuckles.

“That kid has ADD.” Mac grumbled. “I swear he takes more breaks than the rest of us combined.”

Mac had been in a fairly chipper mood of late between all the money rolling into the shop and the increasingly common visits he received from Kelly. That was until I put him in charge of training Nick, and he did a complete 180. Mac had tried to shoot me down, but I wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I hate to play the boss card, dude.” I’d said to him last week. “But consider it played. I’ll be out for at least 6 weeks when Molly has the twins and you’ll be stuck with him.”

The kid was good for his age, but he had a lot to learn. I’d told Mac I’d take him one day a week and Mac would have him the rest of the time for now. Since Nick and Mac were both a couple of smart ass rebels, I figured they’d eventually hit it off and gang up on me, but now I wasn’t so sure.

“He was just in the entryway talking to Molly a minute ago.” Francis called from the showroom. Popping up out of my seat, I stretched my aching back muscles. The long hours had begun taking their toll. If Nick didn’t end up working out and we had to retrain someone, we were going to be too far behind for me to have the time off I wanted. I checked the parking lot and the back alley to see if he had ducked out for a cigarette and came up empty.

Mac was grumbling under his breath as I came back inside, saying something about dropping the kid in the nearest manhole cover. Not that I blamed him, but the last thing I needed was more fucking stress at that point. Instead, I needed Mac to step up and handle things, not come crying to me when his underling pulled a quick fade.

Twenty minutes later Nick reappeared and Mac pulled him aside for a talk. I was in the middle of a complex carving, so I let him handle it.

When this particular job had come in, we were already swamped. But the money was too good to pass up, and besides it was restoring a piece of history. The Baker Hotel in Mineral Wells had been
the
destination spa back in the twenties and thirties. They’d even boasted the first Olympic sized swimming pool in the state. The town had decided to restore it before it fell down, but the building had been open to the elements for a long time. Most of the woodwork needed heavy restoration or replacement.

My project was a large carving from the ballroom. After studying some original plans, old photographs and some recent ones they’d sent, I had almost finished it. Now I was fitting it all together and each part had to fit perfectly. I’d already had to remake one piece when Molly called me unexpectedly on the day of Mac’s big race.

She’d broken my train of thought when she called and I’d lost my temper. The way I’d spoken to her was unacceptable, and when I went to apologize she dropped the bomb that she’d been calling about the babies. She’d felt them move for the first time, and her first thought was to call me. My response was to snap at her, and the shame wasn’t something I could just shrug off. Imagining how much my shitty reaction must have stung her and made her doubt me really got under my skin.

Since that night, I’d put my phone on vibrate, or turned it off entirely if she was upstairs. The amount of money the hotel job paid was impressive and would help us with a down payment if we could ever find a house worth bidding on. I had to finish the project, but once it was done I could turn my focus to Molly. It was the hardest piece I’d worked on in years, and I was going to be glad to set it aside.

By the time I had everything clamped together for the glue to dry, Mac was back at his workstation. I walked over and raised an eyebrow to him.

“So?”

Mac looked uncomfortable for a minute and then shrugged.

“Short Shit asked him to run an errand. I told him to let me know next time or I’ll dock his pay.” He looked at me as if waiting for me to correct him but I just nodded.

“That sounds fair.” He blinked in surprise. “Mac, I told you. I’m gonna be out for a while. So I need you to step up take on the management of our woodworking staff.”

“Our woodworking staff of one?” He cracked, and I nodded. He grinned. “Well at least they don’t outnumber me.”

I gave him some final instructions on some of the current projects and headed upstairs.

I took a large breath as I stood outside the apartment door, in limbo between work and home, thinking.

What the hell was she talking to Nick about? And where the hell did she send him? If she wants something she should ask me, not some young buck who drools all over her, pregnant or not.

I felt irrational anger at the thought of Nick sharing secrets with Molly and almost walked back down to the shop. Then I pushed the bad shit down into the imaginary tank where I was keeping all my other bullshit and slammed the lid.

Coming into the apartment, I saw Molly hurriedly sweep something off the kitchen counter and toss it into the garbage. Acting like I didn’t notice, I crossed the room and took her into my arms. She looked startled but pleased when I pulled her close and planted a kiss on the base of her neck. Glancing over her shoulder, I caught a glimpse of what she’d thrown in the trash and I felt my stomach tighten painfully.

An empty container from Amy’s Ice Cream.

She’d sent my assistant out to get her a treat from Amy’s…probably because she’d been afraid to ask me. Scared that I would freak out or maybe just flat out refuse. Amy’s had been Jessica’s and my place. We’d met there, and we’d gone there all the time. I hadn’t set foot inside the joint since the night of the accident, and couldn’t even look at the place no matter which location it was. I just couldn’t bring myself to face it. It served as another example of how I was failing Molly without even being asked to try. Anger blossomed in my chest, but the anger was directed inward, and I held onto her tightly while I got the emotions squashed down and tucked away where they belonged.

“Amy’s? Where did you get that?” I asked, as if I’d just noticed the bag. She yanked back, looking a little freaked and a slight bit guilty. Then she exhaled as if defeated and squared her shoulders.

“I had a really strong craving for Mexican Vanilla.” She refused to meet my eyes so I dipped down to meet hers and smiled at her reassuringly.

“Is that’s where Nick went?” The humiliated look on her face told me all I needed to know. “Babe…I appreciate why you asked someone else, but if you want something you should send me.”

Molly’s face fell into a troubled frown and reached up to put her hands on either side of my face. She looked into my eyes for an inordinately long time.

“Joe…where are you?” Her question confused me and it must have shown. “The last time I even mentioned the place, you almost had a panic attack. Now you can…what? Just flip a switch and run down there?”

“Babe, I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” I heaved a reluctant sigh, knowing in my heart that going into Amy’s wouldn’t be as simple as that.

Her eyes flashed and she stalked past me. Halfway across the room, she whirled and her arms came across her chest. “Jesus, Joe! I’m sick of this shit. I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall. I don’t know what you think you’re doing…but I want the man I love back, not some God damn Stepford Joe.”

Her sudden hostility was startling, but it was something I was getting used to. Her attempt to goad me into opening up by attacking me held a certain irony, but the doc and I had worked hard at managing my anger and I refused to lose my temper on Molly of all people. I leaned back against the counter and crossed my arms before forcing out a chuckle.

“I’m just trying to keep things on an even keel. Your hormones have been all over the place and it’s made you really unpredictable.” It was the truth, but not all of the truth.

Her eyes grew wide and she looked a little unbalanced. When she fired back, it was with both barrels.
“I’m
unpredictable? Me? Really?”

I covered my eyes with both hands, too fatigued to put up a good defense. “I want you to ask me for stuff, not one of my employees who can’t keep his eyes from wandering all over you. Yes, it would be difficult to go to Amy’s…but I’d do it for you in a second.”

Unshed tears stood in her eyes as she crossed the room to me. Pulling me into a fierce embrace, she held me with surprising force.

“Dammit, Joe,” Her whisper matched the intensity of her grip. “I’d never ask you to put yourself through that just because I can’t control my sweet tooth.”

I pulled back so I could see her eyes and felt my chilly heart melt at the love I saw reflected there. “Listen up, little girl. I love you. More than I’ve ever loved
anyone
.”

I held her gaze, making sure my statement carried the weight it was intended to. Her doubtful eyes made me totally berserk, but I pressed on. “I would walk through fire for you, or hell, sit through a marathon of Gossip Girl.”

The tears that had begun to spill were interrupted by a snorting laugh escaping her. A second later, her expression grew somber once more. “I love you, too, Joe. I can tell you’re bottling a lot of things up and I’m worried. It’s not good for you and it’s not good for us. I
need
you. All of you. I need you to level with me. I promise I can take whatever it is that you need to dish out.”