Page 33 of The Last Autograph
“Yep. Isn’t it? I just wish Jesse had told me more about her.”
Jake fell silent as Todd’s wife and another couple joined them. Unable to focus on the small talk around the table, he sat in the shadows of the tent and watched Molly again, her expression warm and hand gestures animated as she continued to work the room. And for one fleeting moment, despite his conversation with Todd and the complexities presented to him, he wanted to spend the rest of the night wrapped around that curvy body of hers and to kiss that gorgeous red lipstick right off those sensual lips.
Jake checked his watch. It was after eleven—time to call it a night. He scanned the tent’s interior, hoping to catch another glimpse of Molly, but she’d disappeared. Todd and his wife were in fine form, downing shots with the Lime Tree Hill crew while dancing to the DJ’s music. They waved him over, but Jake couldn’t handle booze or crowds like he used to. Sure, he still enjoyed the buzz of a cold beer or a decent glass of red, but he’d had enough hangovers lately to last him a while, and unfortunately, that second shot of limoncello had been enough to tip him a little sideways.
The fresh air struck Jake like a slap to the face, and as he strolled toward the makeshift parking lot, he imagined Molly outside, stargazing in that stunning dress but with her feet bare and hair down. He found himself wondering if she was in a relationship, who she hung out with, and where she lived.
He was about to grab his jacket from the truck before making the trek up the hill toward home when he noticed Molly struggling with the soft top of a vintage MG.
“Do you need a hand?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks, but I’ve almost…ouch!” She jerked her hand back, flicked it several times, then sucked her index finger into her mouth. “Shit, that hurt.”
Dragging his gaze away from the finger between her lips, Jake activated the light on his phone and stepped closer. “Is that better?”
“Um. Ouch,” she repeated. “Bloody stupid thing.”
“Maybe if you stretched it a bit tighter?”
Molly stared at him, and he could have sworn she rolled her eyes. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“Who, me? Of course not.”
“Here.” He held out his phone. “Hold this, and let me try.”
Molly accepted his phone and stepped back. “I just can’t get the dome thingy to clip into place.”
Dome thingy.Smiling now, Jake pulled the canvas tighter and snapped the stud into its socket. “There. That should do it.”
“Thanks.” She looked him up and down. “You’re not planning on driving, are you?”
“No, I’ve had too much to drink, plus I’ve already had one ticket recently. I forgot helmets are mandatory here.” He studied her as he accepted his phone.
“How are you getting home then?”
“I’ll walk.”
Molly opened the driver’s door. “Where do you live?”
“On the hill.”
“I can drop you off if you want.”
“You’re offering me a ride home?”
“What, do you think I’m so petty that I can’t be civil after what happened today in the bake-off?”
“Of course not.” He chuckled. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Sure it was. Hop in.”
Jake frowned down at the MG. With his six-three frame, compact cars had never been his thing, but he was too drunk to care. “Thanks… if you don’t mind.”
He was sure he caught a soft sigh, but again, he was too drunk for it to bother him. She obviously didn’t like him much—or perhaps her interest matched his, but she was trying to hide it, just as he was.
They drove out of the park grounds in silence as a bankof clouds and a cool wind traveled in from the south. Jake wound up his window before glancing her way. “You did good today.”
She threw him a doubtful look as if his compliment was unexpected. “Thanks. But not good enough as it turned out. That tissue spit was brutal.”
