Bring the Heat, Margot Radcliffe [best novels to read to improve english .TXT] 📗

“Sure, Molly,” he said, taking a sip of the tequila he’d been nursing. But the mescal buzz was not doing what he’d wanted, namely chilling him out to the point where he could let the length of that phone call go. Where he could be noncommittal about her talking to her ex not even an hour since he’d been inside her with her screaming his name. He could barely believe how largely he’d miscalculated how much she meant to him. For years, he’d been living in denial and in the dark about his feelings, just locking them away so he could get by, but the thought of her going back to her ex was busting the walls he’d erected around those memories open.

She searched his face. “I don’t know if your scowl means you want to know about the phone call or you don’t.”

Fuck. He smoothed his face out, not even realizing he’d been scowling, but not at all surprised. He had a poker face for everyone but Molly. She remained the only person he ever truly let down his guard with so it made sense that he’d been unable to hide his emotions from her. Though, admittedly, he kind of thought he was doing an admirable job of it if the only evidence of his raging inner turmoil threatening to tear him from the inside out was a comparably benign scowl.

“I want you to do whatever you want to do, Molly.”

She raised an eyebrow at him but he was not going to beg her for details about a phone call he just wanted to forget even though he’d tried to push her into making it. He respected her too much to put her in a position where she felt she owed him anything.

“I think it was a good talk,” she told him, stopping there.

“You seemed to be having a good time at the end.”

She held his eyes again and he felt her trying to ferret out his intention and meaning, but his face was a pleasant mask now. In another minute, he’d be calm enough to be the charming playboy he always was, but the heat in his stomach hadn’t quite been snuffed out yet.

“I think ‘good time’ is overstating it,” Molly said drily. “But I think we got to an amicable place. It felt good to get everything out and to tell him how I felt. Saying it all out loud made me realize that I was over it. You were right that I should call him back, to put us on the same page.”

“And what page is that?”

She shrugged and he hated it. “Just that he’s the one who messed up. He mentioned that the girl I’d caught him with was just a onetime thing and that he was sorry. It felt like a real apology. He didn’t make excuses or anything, just really felt bad.”

“He fucking should,” Oliver bit off, cursing himself for the outburst.

“He does,” Molly assured him. “And then we sorted some logistics about the house and what we’re planning to do with it, if I want to sell it to him or if there’s a chance we could try to work things out.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask the question he wanted to ask.

“So I told him I was currently seeing someone and we could proceed with selling the house.”

His heart started beating again. “Do you want me to buy the house?”

Molly choked on the sip of water she’d been taking.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you want me to buy him out of the house so you can just have it now?” he asked again, slower this time so she heard him. And for the record, he knew that this offer, too, was a mistake, but he still felt compelled to offer it, to expedite this process. He’d already been waiting for her for seven years, so it would be nice if they could speed it up a bit. Besides, if his parents did truly try to use her as leverage, it would be better for both of them if they were in a more permanent arrangement. “If you put it on the market you’ll be in touch with him constantly.”

“Do you think I want you to purchase a house I can afford on my own?”

“The offer wasn’t made based on whether or not you could afford it on your own. I’m sure you can. The offer was made out of convenience since I can just pay him cash and have the deal be done by the end of today.”

Molly shook her head. “I don’t want the house, Oliver. If anything he’ll buy me out.”

That was still a lot of the contact he was trying to avoid. He wanted Max totally out of the picture so the pile of forty-five grand pianos would be taken off his chest and he could breathe easier.

“So he’s started that process, then?”

Swallowing her bite of turkey sandwich, Molly set it down on the plate before glaring at him. “What is going on here? I thought you’d be happy that I told him I was seeing someone. Isn’t that what you insisted upon yesterday?”

“It’s a start,” he told her.

Her eyes flashed and he wanted to smile. He liked an irritated Molly as much as he liked a naked one.

“You’re just being an ass on purpose now, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said, some of his anger dissipating at the reminder that she’d told her ex they were together. That was enough for now. Carving him completely out of her life was a project for another day.

“He’s already in the past, Oliver. I promise.”

At her pointed stare he just smiled, wanting to get back to normal again, wanting to believe that she was his even if it wasn’t true. “Okay, you’re right, let’s forget about your ex. Can we go swimming now or do you want to talk more about your feelings?”

She rolled her eyes and finished up her sandwich. When she took the last bite, he made her leave the dishes there