Letters to Molly (Maysen Jar, #2)(69)

Finally, after I’d begun to sweat under Cole’s scrutiny, he picked up his beer and took a healthy chug. “What’s your plan?”

The tension left my shoulders. “Take it slow. Try and forget about all the shit in the past and start fresh.” Which would be easier if those fucking letters would stop.

“Forget, huh? Don’t you think you guys need to hash that history out?”

I shook my head. “Nothing good is going to come from us digging up old skeletons. I mean, we kind of already have. Those letters have forced us to talk about some things we should have when we were married. But trust me, the other stuff is just better forgotten.”

I could get past Molly having a one-night stand during our separation if I just didn’t think about it. There was no reason to talk about it. No reason for us to both go through that time again and relive it.

Forgetting was better. And since she’d promised not to read any more letters, I didn’t have to worry about it coming up.

“Speaking of letters, did you guys ever figure out who was leaving them?” Cole asked.

“No damn clue. I’ve spent so much time thinking about who could have found them that I’m more confused than ever. Honestly, I still think it’s Poppy or my mom.”

“Poppy would never lie to you. That’s not her,” he said, leaping to his wife’s defense. “Do you really think your mom would either?”

“No,” I admitted. “I just can’t think of anyone who would care. Or who’d had access to my closet.”

“What about Brenna?”

“Brenna?”

Cole shrugged. “You dated for a year. I’m guessing she spent plenty of time in your bedroom.”

No, she hadn’t, which was why we’d broken up.

But she had been in my bedroom. Could Brenna have found the letters? “Why would she send them?”

“Maybe she was threatened by Molly. Maybe she thought it would be a way to turn Molly against you. I mean, you said you guys have had some fights over the letters.”

“Then why drop them off instead of stamp and mail them? Why would she leave the nice letters? Trust me when I say that if she wanted Molly to hate me, all she needed to do was send a few.”

Like the ones Molly hadn’t gotten yet.

“I’m just tossing out ideas.” Cole shrugged. “Sometimes when we’re stuck on a case, we throw out random ideas to shoot them down. It helps broaden our focus.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway. From what I remember, there are only a few letters left and Molly promised not to open them.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because I asked her not to. The letters . . . they aren’t good. I wrote them when I was pissed and hurt. They aren’t how I really feel.”

“Hmm.” Cole took another pull from his pint glass. “You really think you guys will get back together?”

“She’s the love of my life. The accident . . . it’s been an eye-opener. All I could think about when I was in that hospital bed was how I wanted to go home. And home wasn’t my house. It was with her and the kids. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I fucked it up.”

“I wish you luck. I don’t think it will be easy, but I’m pulling for you guys.”

“Thanks.” I took another drink. It felt good to admit to Cole that I wanted Molly back. It was nice to know I had his support, but I also didn’t want to jinx myself. Molly and I hadn’t even talked about reconciling.

She might laugh. She might tell me she was happier divorced than she’d ever been married.

“I need to run an idea by you.” Cole propped his forearms on the table, leaning closer. “I want to take Poppy to Italy. I’m thinking next May because she hates May. I thought it might be something fun for a change. And if I can swing it, I’d like the trip to be a surprise.”

“Oh.” I shook my head. “My sister does not like surprises.”

Cole chuckled. “She’ll like this one. I found this villa outside Rome for the two of us to stay a week. They’ve got a pool and a spa. They have an on-site chef who does private cooking lessons. It’s the dream vacation she doesn’t even know she wants yet.”

“Sounds awesome. What do you need from me?”

Cole launched into his plan to make it a surprise, from booking the tickets on my credit card to arranging for his parents and mine to watch the kids. The more he talked, the more excited I was for the trip and I wasn’t even going. And Cole was right, Poppy would love this trip.

We finished our beers and made our way back to Cole’s truck.

“Home or Alcott?” he asked.

“Home.” As much work as there was to do, I didn’t want to be in the office. I wanted to be outside, and the deck overlooking Molly’s backyard was becoming my favorite place to set up shop and work on the laptop.

Earlier in the week, Bridget had come to collect me. She’d driven me all over so I could check on my project sites as well as hers. Most were in a good spot, though they were also a week or so behind schedule. But since I couldn’t jump in and help lay sod or plant trees, there wasn’t much I could do other than office work, which I could do from home.

“I appreciate you driving me today,” I told Cole as he parked in the driveway.