Hotshot and Hospitality by Nora Everly

Chapter 12

Garrett

“Now what do I do?” I sat back in my seat, dejected.

“Maybe she needs some space.” Barrett pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine. He turned to me with a sympathetic smile and leaned back into his seat.

I stared out the front window, wondering what I should do. “She’s had nothing but space from me for years. Maybe she’s just not interested.”

“She spent the night with you, didn’t she?”

“She was scared to drive home in the dark. I was probably wrong for thinking it was her excuse to stay.” But that kiss couldn’t have been a one-sided thing. Could it? She had been the one to pull me in.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see her tomorrow morning at the inn. And every weekday plus two Saturdays after that for approximately five weeks as long as nothing arises to complicate things, of course. You have time to figure this out and get a read on her. Dial it back, Garrett, and give her some space.” His attention to detail was annoying. He memorized the schedule for each one of our projects and almost always had the right answer for everything.

“How do you know what my dial is set at?” I sniped. I felt annoyed that he seemed to always have it together when I was stuck here feeling a bit lost and hopeless while I wondered what to do.

He shoved my shoulder. “You never were very good at waiting, now were you?”

“I guess not. I’ll give her some space. She was crying when she drove off this morning. You know, when we were kids, I always knew why and exactly how she was upset or angry, with me or anything else. I don’t feel that way right now.” Feeling dismal, I ran my hands into my hair, shoving my palms into my eyes. An epic headache was forming.

He started his truck and backed out. “Y’all ain’t kids anymore. Women are a whole different kettle of fish. Hell, I quit understanding Lizzie when she turned thirteen and she’s my daughter. We’ll stop by Everett’s house and talk to the Hill girls before I take you to get Dad’s truck. We’ll find out how she’s doing from them and you can decide what to do from there. Look, she told you she’d text you. And if there’s one thing I know for sure about Molly, it’s if she’s not in the mood to talk and you push her, you’ll set her off. Molly isn’t one to hide her feelings, or at least she never used to be. Also, don’t forget about her temper.” I chuckled. Molly’s temper was adorable but I could admit it was also kind of scary. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to piss her off at this point, not right after the Lacy thing this morning.

Seeing the merit of his argument, I agreed. Respecting her wishes was the way to go. “You’re right. I’ll wait for her to text me. Probably. Or I’ll wait until morning to call her. And are you saying you’ll voluntarily put yourself in the same room with Sadie Hill on your day off?”

“Yeah, and now you owe me a favor, don’t you?” he chuckled as he turned off onto Everett’s street.

“Don’t start an argument with her and it’ll be okay.”

He chuckled. “I’m not the one who starts them. It—it just kind of happens with her. She gets under my skin sometimes is all.”

“Yeah, I bet she’s under your skin. Word has it she’s been trying to get under you for years.”

“Nah, I’m no good for her. She’ll get over it.” My head whipped to his. That was not what I expected to hear.

“That’s crazy.” Barrett was a good man and a great dad. I couldn’t believe he thought of himself that way.

“I’m divorced. I failed at—”

“Well, she’s almost divorced too,” I shot back.

“Her husband left her. That’s not her responsibility.”

“Your wife cheated on you. How is that yours?” I countered.

He shot me a “shut up” look. “We’re here.” He pulled up to the curb of the old Colonial house Everett inherited from our grandfather.

The front door flew open before we even got to the porch. “What are y’all doing here?” Clara yelled. “Where’s Molly?”

“We passed her at the Donner Bakery. She said she’s okay and she’d text him,” Barrett answered, gesturing back at me with his thumb.

“And you believed her?” She let go of the door and stormed off into the house.

“Why wouldn’t we believe her?” Barrett answered when I reached the porch behind him. I followed him inside and shut the door, slowly resigning myself to the fact that I was in the oddest situation of my life. I had feelings that were rapidly growing out of control and no idea what to expect.

“She was at the Donner Bakery. She’s about to get loaded up with pie and eat her feelings. Maybe it’s better if he stays away,” we heard Sadie say as we approached the living room. Three of the Hill sisters were sprawled on Everett’s sectional couch, The Transporter was paused on the television, and takeaway cups and a doughnut box from Daisy’s Nut House covered the surface of the coffee table.

“I see you mentally counting us,” Willa joked. “Gracie is closing the shop today. Everett will be home any minute.”

Sadie scooted to the center of the couch and patted the cushion next to her with an evil-eyed gleam directed in Barrett’s direction. He shrugged and sat down. Willa was in the corner of the sectional, sitting with her legs crisscrossed and wrapped up in my papaw Joe’s favorite afghan. I smiled at her and sat in the recliner by the window. I looked expectantly at Clara, who rolled her eyes in response. They were like the Graeae, all knowing and scary as hell, sitting in a row on that couch. Except the Hill sisters were hot, blue-eyed blondes instead of old gray witches sharing an eyeball. I shuddered and looked away. Somehow, I knew whatever I said would be wrong.

I shouldn’t even be here; I should be checking on Molly. I got up to leave. I sat back down when Everett appeared in the arched living room entrance. “That ex of yours did a number on Molly at the Donner Bakery,” he declared before bending over the back of the couch to kiss the top of Willa’s head.

“I knew this was coming! I called it the second Molly told us about her skank face showing up at your house this morning.” Clara burst out yelling and stood up in a rage. “I’m going to fight her. I haven’t smacked down a bitch in years. I’m due for a good brawl.”

“No, you’re not!” Sadie grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down. “We’re adults now. Fighting is kid stuff and you could get arrested. We’ll just start posting shit about her on social media—keep it classy, you know. Act like ladies for a change.”

“Y’all calm down,” Willa, the Hill sister voice of reason, ordered.

“Calm is for wimps!” Clara said this as she cracked her knuckles ominously. “Molly is my best friend and she’d do it for me!”

“No fighting. No posting. Let Garrett handle this,” Barrett interjected. “He will talk to Lacy. He’ll tell her that it’s over, get the ring back, and that will be the end of it.”

“God, Barrett. That’s the least fun way to handle this,” Sadie griped as she side-eyed him.

“It makes the most sense,” he countered.

“Making sense is for weenies,” Sadie shot back. Barrett shook his head and chuckled under his breath.

“Yeah, here’s what’s happening,” I cut in. “I’ll tell her to back off when I get the ring. Problem solved. All I care about right now is Molly.”

“You’re right. She wouldn’t like it if I beat the shit out of Lacy.” Clara sighed and flopped back against the cushions.

“She hates drama too,” Sadie agreed. “I mean, she’s full of drama, but not the bad kind.”

“Well, okay. I need to get Dad’s truck so I can go home. I’ll see Molly in the morning. That’s my plan.”

“You can take my Bronco,” Everett offered.

“Thanks. Keys?” He gestured for me to follow.

“Don’t listen to what any of them tell you.” He was serious as he pulled the keys off the hook by the fridge. “You know her, and you know how you feel when you’re with her, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I do. Or I thought I did—”

“You do. Trust your gut, Garrett. And trust her. Molly’s always been a sweet girl. Remember what Papaw Joe used to say to us whenever he was missing Grandma?”

I grinned. “What?” Everett and our grandfather had had a special bond; they were two of a kind. Loyal almost to a fault and everything you could ever want in a friend or a brother.

“You’ll know she’s the one when she feels like everything, and everything else becomes just everything else. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t forget it, Ev. Thanks, man.”

“Just talk to her. And be patient—you know how she is.”

“I know. Patience isn’t my strongest trait.” I sighed.

Molly was already starting to feel like everything. Was I ready for that?