Once again, when Zeke arrived at Molly’s, both of her phones were ringing—and the doorbell.
“You’re very popular,” he said as she held the door open wide and gestured for him to come in before racing toward the living room for her cell phone on the coffee table. She took the call in the hallway, so to give her some privacy he went into the living room.
Lucy was standing up in a playpen waving a rattling rabbit toy. She stared at him, her big brown eyes saying: Pick me up, please!
He smiled at her and scooped her out, the eyes on him.
“Ba,” she said, waving the rabbit with a big smile, showing him her adorable baby teeth.
“You don’t say. So how are you, Lucy? Did you enjoy your birthday party? Did you get to try some strawberry shortcake?” He and Molly had been so busy at work today in setting up the office and going over how Dawson Solutions would operate, and they’d had so much to talk about over lunch, that the subject of Lucy’s party hadn’t had a chance to come up.
He heard Molly dashing into the kitchen for the landline and saying hello. From the gist he was able to overhear, someone was asking how her first day at her new job had gone.
“She sure did,” Molly said, coming back into the living room and tossing her phone on the love seat. She had what seemed a pleasantly surprised look on her face when she saw Lucy in his arms. “My mom told my nana what happened with the cake she’d picked up on Friday, so Nana rushed out to the bakery to get a new cake and she told my aunts, who told my cousins, and do you want to know how many birthday cakes Lucy ended up with at her party? Eight.”
He laughed. “Seriously?”
“Want a piece of red velvet? Chocolate? Lemon chiffon? Carrot with the best frosting I’ve ever had? Plus I have four strawberry shortcakes, including yours. I’ll have you know I served yours first. My whole family thinks you’re a saint now.”
Zeke grinned. “Better than the alternative. And yes, I’ll have a slice of whatever you recommend.”
“I’ll make coffee, too.” She headed to the kitchen and he followed her. “And I know all about the alternative. My ex-husband and his wife stopped by the party so that they could say happy birthday to Lucy on her actual birthday even though they had their own celebration planned for the following day. My family gives the two of them the evil eye no matter how nice they are—and they are perfectly nice. Well, nice-ish. I mean, he did leave me for her and—” The color practically drained from her face. “Oh, God, did I just say that? Ignore.”
He leaned against the kitchen counter and shook his head. “I like how you say what’s on your mind. And as for your family and the stink eye? Team Molly. I get it.” As he boosted Lucy in his arms, she grabbed his ear. He met the big eyes, full of happy curiosity. “Can you say Ow, Lucy? Owww.”
Molly laughed and opened the refrigerator. “Yup, my ears have gotten the Lucy tug.” She tapped her baby’s nose. “I can take her if...she’s heavy.”
“Did I mention I can bench-press two hundred and five pounds? This little darling is no problem. And she smells like baby shampoo. I think that scent is hard-wired into our brains to remind us of something good in our families.” Now he was the one to kind of freeze. What had made him say something so leading?
“Definitely,” she said, pulling out a white box. “I love that smell. When Lucy was an infant and I’d be scared to death about being on my own with her, a divorced mom, I’d just breathe in that scent and hold her close and I’d feel better.”
He gave Molly a commiserating nod and rubbed Lucy’s back. “I’m sure those days weren’t easy. Especially at first.”
“Oh, they weren’t. Even with my parents and nana and aunts and uncles and cousins rallying around me. And boy, did I work hard to have an amicable relationship with my ex. I really had to train myself when he and his affair—now wife—would show up to pick up Lucy.”
Lucy gave his ear another little tug. “Train yourself how?”
Molly set the box on the counter, grabbed a knife and two plates and cut two slices of what looked like red velvet cake. “Early on the arrangement was that they’d have her a few hours a couple times a week. The doorbell would ring, and I’d chant in my head, ‘Now, Molly, when you open the door, do not, I repeat, do not stare them down or look like you’re going to throw up. Do not make veiled, passive-aggressive or straight-out nasty comments to either of them, though you may want to. Though you do want to. Just smile and make pleasant chitchat. For Lucy’s sake and your sanity. You’ll be co-parenting with this guy not just for eighteen years, but forever. Sanity has to come first. Lucy has to come first.’”
He nodded. “Oh, trust me, I get that, too. Well, not personally since I’ve never been married. But my father’s first wife, my brother Ford’s mother, who left my dad, and my mother, his second wife, would have it out every drop-off or whenever they ran into each other in town—and this went on for years. Shouting, cursing. Right on Main Street. Or in front of our house, in front of all of us. What’s worse, I think my father thought it was cute when his first and second wives would hurl insults at each other. Meanwhile, all of us would be standing there, shaking.” He glanced out the window, at the snow clinging to the evergreens, to rid his head of the image. “Yeah, marriage? Not for me.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” she said. “Your family and me aside, I can think of many great marriages. My parents’, for one. They’ve been married for thirty-three years. My dad is the cook of the family, always has been, and he plays music while he makes dinner. My mom will come in sniffing the air appreciatively, and he’ll pull her into a slow dance to some eighties new-wave song by one of his favorite bands.”
“Even a Flock of Seagulls?” he asked on a grin.
“I think they may have been his very favorite.” She laughed and Lucy let out a giggle, too. “I wonder what the music will be when Lucy starts walking around with earphones, blocking out my nagging.”
He smiled. “Maybe new wave will be back. You know, I really am glad to hear your parents are happily married. That’s really nice. For them and for you. And just good to know. That there really are solid marriages out there.”
She set the plates on the table, then reached into the cabinet and took out two mugs. “There definitely are. There are quite a few in my extended family. My great-aunt and great-uncle, Daphne and Dave, make out. Not that I want to see that.”
Zeke laughed. “I hear ya. My dad and his third wife were always lip-locked. She was Noah and Daisy’s mother but she passed away from cancer when they were young. They were married until the very end and I know he loved her very much, but the roving eye, the flirting, never stopped.” He sighed. “It was nice to always see them hugging, though. Leah forgave him way too much—she actually accepted him as he was. Which I think is nuts. She was such a generous, kind person. Why let herself be treated that way by a snake?”
Molly headed over to the coffee maker, making a fresh pot. “Hmm. I guess she overlooked what she needed to in order to be married to the man she loved. Everyone makes their own compromises, choices.”
“I guess,” he said, wishing he hadn’t brought it up. A few times when he was a teenager, school would let out and he’d walk along Main Street with his friends and one would say, “Hey, Zeke, isn’t that your dad with his tongue down that redhead’s throat in front of Billy’s Bar?” And it always was. Sometimes a blonde, sometimes a redhead, sometimes a brunette. “I thought he was married to wife number five or something,” the friend would add. And Zeke would just shrug and seethe.
“My mom and dad are huggers,” she said fast as if wanting to keep the conversation on happier terms. “Always hugging. Every time I see them in each other’s arms, I feel so comforted, even now at age thirty-one. Is that crazy?”
“Nope. Not at all. Who doesn’t like a hug? Now that I think about it, I’m kind of getting a hug from a one-year-old baby.” He smiled at Lucy, who was staring at him, looking so intently at his face. At his nose. He really liked this kid. And he liked the lighter conversation—definitely.
“You know,” Molly said, “after my ex and his wife dropped off Lucy’s cake at her party, I happened to catch them walking back to their car and saw the way Lila took his hand, the way they embraced in the car for longer than the usual hug. I know it’s hard for him—seeing his baby girl only a couple days a week, having her every other weekend. Yeah, he blew up our family, but it’s still rough on him. I really saw it in how they were hugging—needing that hug. That helps me be kind to them.”
“It’s great that you have an amicable relationship,” Zeke said. “And that you’re so empathetic.”
Molly poured two mugs of coffee and set them on the table. “Well, thanks. I do try. Plus, I hate to say it but Lila is actually nice and she’s very sweet to Lucy. She’s four months pregnant so Lucy will have a sibling—and close to her age. That’s a good thing.”
Except she said it kind of wistfully.
“Must be hard—the back and forth of joint custody,” he said.
“It is. But Andrew and I divorced before Lucy was even born, so I’m used to it. And it really is important to me that Lucy will have her dad and his new family as an equally big part of her life. Gosh,” she said. “How did we get on all this?”
“We do seem to talk easily,” he said. Again he was struck by how little he and his own ex had talked. Their conversations had always been stilted and they rarely got into their pasts or families.
“How about we move coffee and cake into the living room—you can put Lucy in her playpen and we’ll talk.”
He headed into the living room, Molly following with a tray that she set on the coffee table. Shifting Lucy in his arms, he walked over to the window. “Lucy, look, snow flurries. When it starts to snow that means something good is about to happen.”
Molly smiled. “You just made that up.”
“Nope. My gram did. Whenever it would start to snow she’d say that to teach us to always expect the best and not the worst.”
She smiled. “That’s very sweet. I knew your gram. She was so kind.” She held up a finger to indicate she’d be back, then disappeared into the kitchen.
She’d known his grandmother? How was that possible?
In a few minutes Molly was back with two forks. “We definitely need these,” she said.
He smiled and set Lucy back in the playpen. The baby put down her bunny and grabbed her board book with a llama on the front.
“Does Lucy like llamas?” he asked, upping his chin at Lucy’s book before sitting on one end of the three-seater sofa. “We have two at the ranch petting zoo. Oh, wait—they might be alpacas.”
She laughed and sat at the other end of the sofa. “She’s crazy for all animals, just like me when I was young. My parents took us to your family’s ranch for a long weekend every summer when I was a kid—that’s how I knew your grandmother. It was our big family trip.” She smiled. “I loved the petting zoo so much. And the horses and the cafeteria, which had make-your-own sundaes. I would explore the riverfront near our cabin for hours. During one trip, a boy who’d been a real jerk to me—throwing pebbles at me, calling me four-eyes—had gotten assigned my favorite pony for a trail ride, and your grandmother saw me all teary and apparently had witnessed the kid being the devil because she made up some story to get the pony back for me to ride and put the boy on barn chores instead.”
He grinned. “Yup, sounds like Gram. Champion of the underdog. She and my grandfather were wonderful people. The current ranch is a lot different than the old one. Have you been to the new version?”
She took a bite of cake and shook her head. “Out of my league financially. But maybe when Lucy’s a lot older, I can take her. She’d love to see the llamas or alpacas—whichever they are—in person.”
“Well, if you want a weekend away in the country, I can sneak you in. My brother Ford was staying in a small cabin on the ranch but he just bought a house and I’ll probably be moving into the cabin until I figure out if I want to build on the outskirts of the ranch or buy in town. You and Lucy could bunk with me. There’s a guest bedroom.”
She stared at him. “Really? That would be amazing.”
He cut into the red velvet cake. “Absolutely. And my sister-in-law Maisey runs the ranch day-care center and has a baby almost Lucy’s age. You could have some time to yourself while Lucy plays with little buddies in the Kid Zone.”
“Wow, this is sounding like a real vacation.” She grinned. “But given that I just started a new job...I sure would love to take you up on that for a day trip one of these weekends.”
“Next Sunday is supposed to be forty-five degrees and sunny—we’d still have to bundle up but sounds like good weather for a day at the ranch, and we can have lunch in the café. They still do make-your-own sundaes. Pen that in,” he added with a definitive nod.
Her eyes widened and she seemed so happy he had the urge to pull Molly into a hug. Hold her close. Feel her against him.
Whoa there, he thought. He shook that very inappropriate thought right out of his head and cleared his throat. “So you said you could give me some tips about winning Danica’s heart.”
There. Back to the reason for his visit in the first place. Danica floated into his mind, her beautiful face and blue eyes and glossy lips that had starred in his dreams for so many years. Danica Dunbar. Why his mind had gone to holding Molly in his arms was beyond him. Maybe all that talk about hugging. Focus, Dawson, he told himself.
Molly ate another bite of cake. Then sipped her coffee. “Right. Danica. For a minute there, I almost forgot about that.”
“Me, too,” he said, sipping his own coffee. He had forgotten. “We always seem to have so much to talk about. There’s not enough hours in the day.”
She smiled. “I know what you mean.”
He recalled how that hotshot doc had asked out Danica right in the aisle of a restaurant while she’d been talking to someone else. Guys must ask her out day and night. “So given that Danica has so many dates and may likely be sick to death of men very soon, what’s my way in?”
“I have to give you the age-old advice, Zeke. To be yourself. That’s your best way in. But I can tell you that Danica absolutely hates vulgar jokes, so don’t make any in her presence.”
Ah. Exactly the type of information he was after. Molly was truly invaluable as a friend. “I don’t make vulgar jokes so we’re good there.”
“And she loves the color blue. It’s her favorite. So if you wear a blue suit or tie the day you plan to ask her out, it can’t hurt. But, of course, you’ve got the blue eyes, so you could wear neon yellow—especially since your eyes are so...” She clamped her lips together and reached for her cup of coffee.
“So what?” he asked, suddenly unable to take his eyes off her soft-looking pink lips.
“Blue,” she said quietly.
Her voice shook him out of his strange fascination with her mouth all of a sudden.
He forked a piece of cake, his gaze lingering on the way her camel-colored sweater rose up to reveal a swath of creamy bare skin. Why was he so...aware of her? Probably because he was getting to know her better and really liked her. Molly was great. Absolutely great. So of course he was noticing everything about her, the way good friends did.
“Any other tips to share?” he asked. “For beating out all the competition with Danica—getting that first date.”
She tucked a long curl behind her ear and it immediately sprang back. He smiled and reached forward, tucking it himself.
“There,” he said, a catch in his voice at how he’d touched her. He should not be touching her. Putting her hair anywhere. “Sorry,” he said, sitting up very straight. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“My hair is insane. Mind of its own. I appreciated your help actually, since that curl wasn’t minding me. Look, it listened to the boss. Staying put.” She gave her head a little shake to demonstrate his curl-tucking prowess.
He stared at her lips. Pink. Soft. So inviting.
“Ba ga!” came Lucy’s happy shout, and never had he been so happy to be interrupted by a baby.
“I know, sweetsies,” Molly said. “Almost time for stories and bed.”
He glanced over at Lucy, thinking he should get going and let Molly put her daughter to bed. He was probably keeping the baby awake. But Molly was cutting into her cake, and Lucy was playing quietly with her rabbit, chewing the tips of its teething ears. If he could just get back on track, get Molly and her lips out of his head, he could leave in peace. But right now, he was feeling...on edge.
“So anything else?” he asked. “The tips for winning Danica’s heart, I mean.” Just keep Danica Dunbar in your head and you won’t be thinking about kissing Molly. Holding her.
Molly stared at him for a moment before responding, and he wondered if she could read his mind. She couldn’t, right? She was so good at her job—in just one day—and was so smart and efficient that he wouldn’t be surprised if she had superhuman capabilities.
Now he was losing his mind.
“Well, she likes Prairie City’s bustling downtown,” Molly said. “The antiques shops and interesting restaurants. She’d prefer a day of strolling and shopping and finding a great place to eat over, say, a hike up a mountain.”
He nodded. “Note to self, do not invite Danica on a hike at the Dawson Family Guest Ranch. Though there are some amazing trails and Clover Mountain right there.”
“Well, count me right in next Sunday. I love hikes and taking proud selfies at the summit. I’ll put Lucy in her carrier. All we’ll be missing is a friendly dog.”
He had invited her to the ranch. Hmm. Maybe that was a huge mistake, given that he was having wildly inappropriate thoughts about Molly. His administrative assistant. Granted, he hadn’t yet created his company handbook and there was no official policies against dating in the office, but there should be. He was her boss and that made a relationship between them out of the question.
Not that he was even interested in Molly romantically—God, where was this crazy train of thought taking him? Wrongville, that’s where.
There’s nothing wrong with friendship. You and Molly know each other from school—it’s not as if you’d just met.
Even if he hadn’t remembered her until he saw her photo in the yearbook.
Of course she and Lucy could come to the ranch and enjoy a Sunday with him as tour guide. In fact, spending some time with Molly outside of work might actually help him shake off these...thoughts. He’d just focus on her as his admin—not as a woman. Could he ask her to wear a pantsuit and little flowery scarf to the ranch on Saturday? That would help.
Losing. His. Mind.
Clearly.
“We have two ranch dogs,” he said, trying to follow the conversation. “My brothers Axel and Rex both have amazing dogs—Dude and River. We can invite them—the dogs, not my brothers.”
“Perfect,” she said.
He stood up fast. “Well. This was great, Molly. I can’t thank you enough for all the great advice you gave me about Danica.” He was about to pass Lucy’s playpen when she stood up and held out her arms.
“Wow, she likes you,” Molly said. “You really are the baby whisperer of Wyoming.”
He liked that honor his sister had bestowed on him but now Lucy wasn’t just his admin’s baby girl who he was perfectly comfortable with. Lucy was the baby girl of a woman—a single and available woman—who had his mind going haywire. The baby’s little arms were still up, the big brown eyes glued to his face. He forced himself to relax and scooped her up. Lucy immediately grabbed his ear with a giggle.
“That’s some grip she’s got,” he said, wishing Lucy would grab on to his collar instead so it would loosen and he could breathe.
Molly grinned. “Tell me about it. It’s why I never wear my glasses anymore. She broke two pairs before I wised up and got contacts.”
He patted Lucy’s back and set her back down in the playpen. “Night, Lucy. Sweet dreams.” Who is this guy? he thought, blowing Lucy a kiss. Molly really did have him all kerfuffled.
He had dated a single mother or two early on, before he realized that he didn’t want to be a dad, and he’d always been so awkward around their kids. With Lucy, he was the way he was with his nieces and nephews. Because Molly was his friend and not a romantic interest, doting on adorable Lucy didn’t come with any expectations or strings.
Until now. But, of course, he could zap all this from his head with a cold shower and a good night’s sleep, during which he’d dream of Danica Dunbar.
Yes. Back to normal. Everything was going to be fine.
Molly walked him to the door, taking his hat from the peg while he put on his jacket. “See you tomorrow, Zeke.”
He felt a swell somewhere deep inside him at the thought. A comforting swell, a happy swell. Wait a minute. Yes. That was it.
Molly was beginning to feel like a best friend. He’d never had a female best friend and, in such a short time, his new admin had become dear to him. That was all this was. He wasn’t used to having such a close female friend so of course he’d misread his feelings. He wasn’t interested in kissing Molly or holding her. He just liked her. A lot.
She was becoming a real trusted buddy, a confidante, someone he could talk to about anything and everything. No wonder he was so happy about the idea of seeing her in the morning.
But as she handed him his hat and their fingers brushed, he found himself noticing her pink mouth again, how deep brown her eyes were, and he wondered, just briefly, what it would feel like to run his fingers through all that lush hair.
Uh-oh. Okay, out the door, Dawson. Now. Today had been long—his first official day at Dawson Solutions—and he was clearly tired. He couldn’t possibly be thinking of Molly in a sexual way: a) that would be wrong, and b) he was in love with her best friend. He tried to picture Danica, but for some reason, Lucy and her llama book kept floating into his head.
He definitely needed a good night’s sleep.
As Molly slid through her pantsuits in her closet, searching for the perfect second-day-at-work outfit, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way Zeke had looked at her a few times earlier tonight—as though he wanted her. Wanted to kiss her. Wanted to carry her off to bed. Molly hadn’t been the recipient of that look very often in her thirty-one years. And she’d been so surprised—completely caught off guard, really—that she’d almost choked on her slice of cake.
Could Zeke Dawson, man of her dreams since age twelve, tall, dark and impossibly gorgeous, have been looking at her with desire? She’d seen the smolder in his blue eyes, particularly as his gaze had dropped to her lips, where his eyes had lingered.
A slow, sweet smile lit across her face and she stared at herself in the full-length mirror on the inside of her closet door. She may not be a hot tamale but she wasn’t chopped liver. One guy she’d dated in her early twenties had told her she had the prettiest brown eyes and would burst into that song by Van Morrison whenever they met for a date. She’d soon discovered he had a song for quite a few women at the same time, but still. Another guy, who’d ended up ghosting her, had told her he found her “inexplicably sexy” but she wasn’t sure if that was a compliment.
Her ex-husband used to compliment her on individual features—her toned arms, the symmetry of her face, her feet that lacked corns or bunions. But she couldn’t recall him ever saying she was beautiful or sexy. They’d started out as friends and then began dating, though neither of them was particularly in love, and suddenly they were a couple. He was a bit older, thirty-five, and looking to settle down and he proposed by saying, We should get married and start a family. I mean, we get along great, right? And that’s what counts.
And Molly had thought, Well, it’s not like Zeke Dawson is going to fall out of the sky and ask me to marry him, so why the hell not? That was how Molly had found herself married to a perfectly fine guy with his own successful auto repair shop. They’d fallen into marriage instead of into love. Andrew had cried when he’d told her he’d unexpectedly found himself madly in love with his new ace mechanic, Lila, but it was so overpowering that, yes, he was going to break up his marriage to his newly pregnant wife. Molly had been devastated and furious and scared. But as time had passed, she began to understand if not exactly condone.
If Andrew could find his soul mate out of the blue, then who said anything wasn’t possible? Zeke had fallen out of the sky, hadn’t he? Right back in her path. That had to mean something.
And he had looked at her like he wanted to pick her up in his arms, kiss her soap-opera style and carry her off to bed.
She smiled again, wondering if she should make her lips even more appealing to Zeke with a little gloss when her phone rang. Danica. Which reminded her. Would Zeke be looking at Molly with soap-opera lust when he had a serious crush on Danica?
Hmm. Maybe not. Maybe the whole thing had been her wishful thinking.
Molly plopped down on her bed and got comfy. “Tell me all about your first date back on the circuit!”
Was it selfish that Molly was hoping Danica had a great time with the bronc champ and that she couldn’t wait to see him again? Okay, it was a little. But Danica would be happy and Molly wouldn’t have to worry about her friend being free to date Zeke.
“Not only wasn’t he a nice guy,” Danica said, “he told me I should get myself a pair of black skinny jeans like our waitress had on in Ruby’s Steakhouse after he complimented her on how good she looked in them right in front of me! What a jerk!”
Wait—what? Molly thought. This kind of thing happens to women who looked like Danica? How was that possible? Then again, she realized with a mental thunk to her forehead, Danica’s husband had cheated on her. Beautiful women weren’t immune.
“I can’t believe he even noticed another woman while sitting across from you,” Molly said. “That’s nuts.”
“Well, that’s sweet of you to say but trust me, his eyes were all over every woman who walked by. Ugh. But you know what? The old Danica would have tried to win his attention. The new Danica told him he’d given her a headache before the dessert menu arrived and left.”
“Yes! Good for you, Danica! But sorry he was an idiot. There are good guys out there. I really believe that.”
“I sure hope so. Tomorrow night right after work I’m having coffee with a dentist. He has a great smile. We’ll see. So tell me how your first day at your new job was! Your boss seems so nice and polite—nothing like that troll of a last boss. I don’t really remember him from high school, though I remember all the Dawson boys were very cute. In fact, I sold a house to a Dawson just the other day—Ford. Talk about oil and water, but hey, I did get the sale.”
Maybe Danica would be oil and water with Molly’s Dawson. Not that she wanted her friend to think Zeke was anything less than amazing. Sometimes, all this nonsense got complicated.
“Zeke is wonderful,” Molly said, catching the dreamy quality in her voice and hoping Danica didn’t. She cleared her throat. “He’s very kind and the work he does is so interesting. Helping companies find solutions to their problems, whether financial or with employees.”
“I’m so happy for you, Molly. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s so attractive.”
Molly swallowed. Of course Danica found Zeke attractive. Any woman would.
She was dying to tell her bestie every last detail—how much she wanted to kiss Zeke, the way he was with Lucy, the real bond developing between them—and to talk about whether or not she was imagining that smoldering look in his eyes. But the words just wouldn’t come out. Should she tell Danica everything? About her long-term crush on Zeke? About his long-term crush on Danica and how he was getting advice from Molly about winning her over? The whole thing would make Danica uncomfortable and put her in a funny position since her friend would know that had to hurt Molly and was compounded by Zeke being Molly’s boss. So she couldn’t say a word. She’d just have to see how it all played out.
Molly had been putting too much stock in the bronc champ, hoping he’d be great and that Danica would fall for him so that she’d be off the market again. Then at least Molly would have more time for her and Zeke’s clear chemistry to lead him to notice her as a woman. She was half sure that was what had been going on earlier tonight. So pipe dream or not, she was going glass half full on the pursuit of Zeke Dawson. Didn’t she intend to teach Lucy to reach for the stars?
Zeke liked her—a lot. She knew that, could feel it. And the more a person liked someone, the more attractive that someone became, right? In a month, Zeke might look at Molly and see Cindy Crawford in her Pepsi commercial. She bit her lip, realizing that was exactly what she wanted. For Zeke to fall for her because he saw her as beautiful on the inside and outside—by being herself.
But come on. All the confidence in the world wouldn’t make Molly the kind of woman Zeke went for: a woman who looked like Danica. Was this pointless or not?
She got up and went to the mirror and studied herself. Wild mess of hair in a lopsided bun. Not a shred of makeup. Unpolished short nails—and toes. Plain old Molly Orton.
“Danica, do you think I should get a makeover?” Molly asked. “Be more glam? Straighten my hair? Wear less conservative clothes?” She needed a fairy godmother. Wyoming Cinderella—that was Molly.
“What on earth for?”
“To get my Mr. Right,” Molly said. “You know the luck I had on the Converse County Singles app. Maybe I should present myself as more of what men want on the surface.”
“No way. You’re not looking for surface, Molly. You want the real deal. Your Mr. Right will love you the way are. The real you. So no. You don’t need keratin treatments or a pencil skirt.”
Molly gave a sigh of resignation, closed her closet and flopped back on her bed. “I’m glad you said that because I can’t imagine spending a half hour on my makeup and hair every morning or trying to sit down in a tight skirt. That’s definitely not me.”
“I spend over an hour of my morning on hair and makeup, Molly,” Danica said on a laugh. “But I love all that, including my five-step skin care routine and my two primers before I even apply my foundation and my spray mist to help set my finished face. I like my high heels. And I’m used to being slightly uncomfortable in my clothes and shoes. But I’m supergirlie—that’s me. I don’t do it to attract attention. I do it because I like it. I remember being five, six years old and watching my mom get all dolled up for work and evenings out with my dad and I couldn’t wait to get my own perfume atomizer and powder puff.”
Okay, she could see that. All of it. But where did that leave Molly? “And I do absolutely nothing because I like being invisible and fading into the woodwork?” That couldn’t be right. She thought of her various-shades-of-beige pantsuits and sensible, neutral-colored shoes and frowned. Maybe it was. She’d never liked standing out or being the center of attention—even on her wedding day.
“First of all, Molly Orton, you’re not invisible. Yesterday at work, one of the Realtors said to me, ‘Can you ask your friend with the gorgeous curly hair where she gets it cut?’”
“Really? That’s nice to know.” Huh. “And I got it done at Dream Hair near the bakery.”
“I’ll let her know. And you don’t fade into the woodwork,” Danica added. “Your style is natural and conservative. That’s always been you, and why is flashy and tight better? It’s not. Remember when you tried mascara in sixth grade and were miserable until you washed it off? To be honest, I’ve always envied that, that the real you is front and center all the time. I wear makeup to the health club, Molly.”
She laughed. “So I guess we’re both just us.”
“Right! Team Us. And the new and stronger Danica doesn’t date jerks who ogle waitresses.”
“Yeah! And the new and stronger Molly goes for what she wants.”
And what she wants is Zeke Dawson.
By the time they hung up, Molly was set on this new path of getting Zeke Dawson by just being herself. She’d be her own fairy godmother.