Today I’m sharing our final Aftermath Of Secrets excerpt and quote. Molly survived her sexy pool predicament with Brad (Missed it? Read here.); and she’s doing everything she can to keep their relationship in the friend zone, but Brad has different ideas.
Aftermath Of Secrets Excerpt
“Did you have fun?” Molly asked as she started up the engine and secured her safety belt.
Brad also pulled his seat belt into place. “I did. Everything was delicious, but that cake was killer.”
“It really was,” she said, backing up and heading down Nate’s well-maintained dirt road.
He huffed out a laugh. “You certainly impress yourself.”
She sizzled him with a look in the streetlight as they approached the intersection. “I call it confidence. I’ll never apologize or play down the fact that I’m an artist in the kitchen.”
He grinned, loving that Molls knew exactly who she was. “Touché.” His smile disappeared as he cleared his throat. “So, tomorrow’s our last night of fun.”
“It is.” She eased to a stop and looked both ways, then pulled on Route 1 and quickly gained speed. “Do you know what you want to do?”
He nodded. “I do.”
“What are you thinking?”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
“I’m wondering if I can take a rain check and postpone my last night.”
She frowned, meeting his gaze in the dull glow of the interior lighting before she gave her attention back to the road. “Are you leaving or something?”
Her hands visibly relaxed on the steering wheel. “Good.”
He couldn’t help but smile, hearing the unmistakable relief in her one word. “Afraid you’d miss me?”
She shrugged. “You promised Matthew a year, and you just got here.” She met his gaze again. “So, why do you want to postpone?”
“I have to go to the New Year’s Eve Ball—”
She groaned. “Tell me you’re not asking me to go with you.”
“I’m asking you to go with me.”
“Aw, Brad,” she groaned again, tossing him a pained look.
“It’s for Uncle Derek and Aunt Phyllis—their annual charity event.”
She huffed out a breath, her frown growing deeper in profile.
“I just thought it would be nice to have you there,” he added.
“Can’t you ask someone else?”
“I could, but with everything going on, I’d rather go with you.” Perhaps leaning on his currently shitty situation was slightly underhanded, but it was also the truth. There was no one else he wanted by his side New Year’s Eve night.
She settled her head back against the seat cushion. “Is it going to suck?”
He nodded, wanting Molls to know exactly what she’d be in for. “I’m counting on it.”
She huffed out another breath. “And I imagine I would have to get all dressed up?”
“And eat at the fifteen-hundred-dollar-a-plate VIP dinner beforehand.”
She rolled her eyes as she slowed to thirty when they hit the downtown limits.
“People will probably gossip and pretend to be nice,” he continued. “Then talk behind our backs. The media will surely be there.”
She stayed quiet for several seconds. “We’re going to hate every second of it,” she murmured.
“I’m counting on that, too.”
She stopped at the four-way intersection, then took the left down Atlantic Avenue. “All right. I’ll go.”
He grinned. “For real?”
“When you talk things up the way you do, how can I resist?” She pulled into a spot by her building, and a sudden and mischievous light came into her eyes as she looked at him. “Just tell me I’m the best Scrabble player. That your Harvard education has nothing on my fantastic brain, and that’s why I’ve won three years in a row.”
He laughed, simply adoring her. “You, Molls Carter, are the best damn Scrabble player on the planet. Your mighty brain puts my Harvard education to shame. And that’s why you’ve kicked my ass three years in a row.”
It was her turn to laugh. “We’re probably going to have to dance at this thing, huh?”
He was looking forward to it. “For most of the night, if we want to avoid pointless conversation and interviews with the press.”
Sighing, she turned off the ignition and unbuckled her belt. “Just make sure you bring Band-Aids. I’m probably going to step all over your toes.”
A New Year’s Eve countdown typically ends with a kiss. I wonder what that will mean for Molly and Brad?