0451471040 by Kimberly Lang Read Free Book Online

You’re the one—”
    Molly eased toward the door. Usually it was amusing to watch Tate and Helena bicker, but she wanted to get out of there before the topic rolled back around to her. She was almost out when Helena glanced over.
    “Wait a second . . .”
    “I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. Thanks for dinner, Helena.” She nodded in Tate’s direction. “I’ll see you later.”
    Saying good night to Ryan and Ms. Louise was not as easy, as Ms. Louise seemed determined to talk about wedding dates and Ryan seemed to be dodging the subject with some amazing verbal gymnastics.
    “Are you not staying for coffee?” Ryan asked, the desperation clear on his face.
    One benefit of owning a coffee shop was the ease with which she could refuse others’ offers of coffee—either they assumed she was over coffee in general or they assumed their coffee wouldn’t be good enough for her. Neither assumption was correct, but Molly wasn’t above playing that card when she needed to.
    “No, I can’t. Thanks, though. Dinner was wonderful, Ms. Louise, as always. I’ll see y’all later.” She stopped long enough to pat Tank’s head. He was a rather funny-looking dog, being hairless and all, but there was something irresistible about him, too—mainly because he thought he was a much larger dog than he was.
    On the porch, she took a deep breath. Some people might consider this to be a cowardly retreat, but staying really wasn’t an option. She understood why Tate had brought up the wedding, and it was a fair play, but she didn’t have a dog in the fight. Helena’s wedding date was not her business until Helena informed her it was.
    She had very strong feelings about that, both because marriage wasn’t something people should be rushed or pressured into—she knew firsthand exactly how bad a disaster that could be—and because she really tried to stay out of things that weren’t her business.
    Even if she didn’t feel that way, a strong sense of self-preservation would keep her out of it tonight. Tatecould risk his life in that mess all he wanted. She was staying the hell out.
    Clouds had moved in as the sun set, cooling things down and making her wish she’d brought a sweater for the walk home. She’d run home, even in these shoes, both for the exercise and the heat, except she was way too full to consider that kind of exertion. She could walk fast, though. It wasn’t but a few blocks.
    It was quiet outside, with most folks home for the evening, and the people in the houses were backlit behind their curtains as they moved around. A few folks were still out walking their dogs or taking after-dinner strolls, and she could hear the shouts and laughter of children playing nearby as a man’s voice called them inside.
    At the foot of Ms. Louise’s driveway, she paused long enough to pull out her phone and check her mail—just long enough for Cindy Claris to spot her and break into a trot down the sidewalk, dragging her Chihuahua, Itsy, behind her as she tried to catch up. “Molly, wait!”
    She did, and Cindy came to a stop beside her a few moments later, panting from the brief run. Itsy danced around her feet, seemingly delighted at the change of pace.
    Cindy started in on a long, convoluted story involving Latte Dah, the War Memorial, and the Fourth of July parade, but Molly was having a hard time making the connection between the three things. Since she hadn’t been drinking, she had to wonder whether Cindy had been. “I’m not sure I—”
    She was interrupted by a loud barking, followed by shouts of “Tank! No!” and Itsy trying to climb Cindy’s leg as a small dark smudge dodged around them in the twilight. Without thinking, she reached down and grabbed Tank’s collar, stopping his pursuit, and scoopedhim into her arms, where he wiggled furiously and alternated between growls and barks.
    Tate was only seconds behind, apologizing profusely at letting Tank past him and trying to soothe both the dogs and Cindy.