Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar, #2)(30)

“Hi, Dad.” Kali smiled at him then followed Max to collect their gloves from a shelf on the garage wall.

Leaving Finn and me standing alone.

“Could you please text me or something before you come over?” That came out bitchier than I’d planned. Oh, well.

“Sorry.” Finn hung his head. “I don’t want to leave the yard a mess. I started all this. I need to finish it.”

“Fine.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “But a heads-up would be appreciated in case I have plans.”

We both knew I didn’t have plans, but I was scrambling to put him back in his place. We were divorced. Ex-husbands called before coming over. Ex-husbands didn’t share dinners. Ex-husbands didn’t sleep in the same bed as their former wives.

“Molly, we have to talk about the letters.”

“Not right now.”

The kids came running back, their smiles impossible to ignore. They loved having Finn here at night. They loved the attention from both parents.

Were we sending the wrong message? Did they think we were getting back together?

“You guys, you get a couple of hours to work with your dad, then he needs to get going.”

Finn frowned and the smiles on the kids’ faces disappeared.

“You can’t stay for dinner tonight, Dad?” Max asked.

“I, uh . . .” Finn rubbed the back of his neck, stealing a glance my way.

“No, not tonight.”

“Why?” Kali narrowed her gaze on her dad’s face. “Do you have a date or something?”

“No date. I just have some stuff to do at home.”

“What stuff?” The look on Kali’s face was one I’d seen plenty of times before. My girl was stubborn, and until Finn gave her an answer she deemed acceptable, she’d wear him down with questions. She didn’t do vague.

“Just stuff, Kali. So let’s get after it.” He turned and took a step but his answer hadn’t passed muster.

Kali crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring my stance. “It’s the last day of school. We’ve had, like, the best day ever. You could hang out with us and not ruin it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s tone down the drama.”

She clenched her jaw and shot me a glare.

“Come on, Dad,” Max begged. “We could order pizza again.”

“It’s your mom—” He stopped himself when my eyes widened. There was no way he was pinning this on me, not when he hadn’t asked to come over in the first place. “Tell you what, guys. We need to haul that bark over in the corner, and then we can level out the ground for sod. How about you two start loading the bark into the wheelbarrow while I talk to your mom?”

Max nodded, immediately going to work. Kali kept her arms crossed over her chest as she walked across the lawn to join her brother.

“I won’t stay for dinner,” he said. “I’ll make sure the kids know it’s my choice, not yours.”

“Thank you.” I let my arms fall. “I need some space.”

“Take it. The kids and I will work out here. You can disappear inside. When we’re done, I’ll go. But, Molly.” Finn stepped closer, his fresh scent filling my nose as he dropped his voice to speak low. “Sooner rather than later, we have to talk about the letters.”

“I agree, but not tonight.”

“It’s my weekend with the kids. What if you came over one night and we talked at my place?”

Not happening. “We can talk one day at the restaurant.”

“Fine. We’ll talk at the restaurant about everything. The letters. The sex. The reason why you won’t set foot in my house.”

I winced.

“Didn’t think I noticed, did you?”

“No,” I muttered. He’d never said anything before about my aversion to crossing his threshold.

“Dad, we’re loaded,” Max yelled.

Finn sighed and locked his eyes with mine. “We’ll talk later.”

By then, I’d better have a grip on my emotions. What Finn and I needed was an adult conversation, and with the way my heart was racing and my temper spiking, there was no way anything rational would come out of my mouth.

I retreated inside and spent thirty minutes tidying up. Every time I walked by a window, I’d steal a glance outside.

The kids were smiling. Finn was too. His was wide and bright, full of pride and encouragement as he taught the kids.

Those smiles weakened me. His put my temper on ice.

Finn caught me watching from a window and grinned. It was the same grin he’d flashed me on our first date, the one that was carefree and confident and so irritatingly forgivable.

That grin was the reason I walked over to the kitchen counter to dig my phone out of my purse.

And ordered pizza—enough for four.





“They’re out.” I joined Finn on the living room couch, making sure to leave plenty of room between us.

“Thanks for letting me stay for dinner and to hang out with the kids.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for all the work you did in the yard.”

He leaned forward on the couch, his forearms braced on his thighs. He’d worn jeans tonight, an old pair frayed at the hems. They’d gotten thin from so many washings and were threadbare at the knees. He’d taken off his shoes, lounging in the living room with bare feet like he lived here.