One Night with her Bachelor(31)

He’d figured out pretty quickly not to underestimate Lily Taylor, but the way Molly told the story—as if Lily were the heroine—made him think Molly underestimated herself. “It couldn’t have been easy for Lily to move to a small town where people knew she’d been a stripper.”

“I don’t know how they found out, but yeah. Some people have been horrible.”

“Except you.” He pulled into the parking lot at Rocco’s and found a space.

“Well, of course not.” She sounded affronted. “Why would I be horrible to her? I’d hate to be horrible to anyone, but especially not to Lily. She’s incredible.”

“So are you, Molly. You said you’d do anything for her, and she’d obviously do anything for you. That tells me you’ve helped her in ways that go beyond most friendships.”

“Well, so has she. I point you to the story I just told.”

He sighed. She wasn’t getting it. He put the truck in Park, unbuckled his seatbelt, and twisted to face her. “Scott told me you were one of Lily’s only champions in town. I think you need to give yourself more credit. You’re a nice person, Molly Dekker.”

She shoved him. Hard.

He suppressed a grin. “I forgot. Four-letter word.”

“Dang right. I’m sick and tired of it.”

“Then you need to stop saying things like dang.”

“No. I don’t want to be a rude person. And I don’t mind that people know they can count on me if they need something. I just… I want…” She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her head back against her seat.

“What do you want, Molly?”

She seethed out an angry breath.

“Tell me.”

“I want people to look at me and think, ‘She’s tough. She’s had to cope with lots of crud, and she does it with a smile.’ I want to be able to fight my own battles. I want…” She raised her voice, punching the window. “I want my life back.”

Frustration radiated off her in waves. The unexpected show of passion was hotter than anything he’d seen in a long time, but the fact he understood exactly what she meant was just as hot. He’d faced shit most people never had to. Thanks to his physique and his training he was tough. He doubted anyone looked at him and saw the vulnerability they perceived in Molly simply because she was a sweet, gentle woman.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t have the same vulnerability inside him. Some battles were bigger than he could fight on his own. That was why he’d never been sent to stage a rescue alone—not until Josh. And being forcibly retired? Yeah, that was another huge battle he was failing to cope with on his own.

He wanted his life back, too. He wanted his normal back.

“You know what I really want? I want one night of just being a woman.”

He blinked. “A woman.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, not to get too personal, but what are you most nights?”

“A mom. A full-time caregiver.” She counted her duties on her fingers. “A schoolteacher. A colleague. An employee. A friend. An ex-wife. I used to be a daughter and a sister, and I still feel like I am—like I partly live my life for my parents and my brother, so they would be proud of me. So I can keep their memories alive.”

“That’s a lot of people to be.” His head hurt just thinking about it.

She turned to him. “You know what I want with my wild card? I want a night just to be me. I don’t even like Italian food that much.”

He glanced at the Rocco’s sign, his hopes for a carefree evening disintegrating. “You don’t?”

“No. I don’t think Josh has ever asked me what kind of food I like. He probably assumes I like Italian because I always take him to Rocco’s when we go out. And the main reason we come here is because I know he likes Italian.”

“What kind of food do you like?”

She paused, as if she hadn’t thought about it for so long she couldn’t remember the answer. “I went to a Thai place in Boulder. It was amazing.”

Shit. He’d been hoping for Mexican. His dad had been Mexican, and Gabriel had grown up spending summers with him in L.A. Though Gabriel had never been a great cook, his abuela had taught him and Camila how to make several traditional dishes.

But Thai? Yeah, no hope there.

“My ideal date would be Thai food and dancing.”

“Dancing?” A bead of sweat trickled down his neck. He fought the urge to tug at his collar. Rappelling into a collapsed mine was one thing. Dancing?

Hell no. Recipe for humiliation.

“I used to love dancing. I don’t think I’ve danced since my wedding.”

“Why not?”

“I got pregnant on my honeymoon and felt too sick or too massive during my pregnancy. Then I was a mom and a wife—which was kinda the same thing as being a mom—and a full-time student. No time, no money for a babysitter. Lily used to ask me to go out with her—not to the strip club but to other clubs in Billings. But Greg always had to study and didn’t want to watch Josh on his own. Plus, he would’ve had to make his own dinner, which was out of the question when he had a wife to do it for him. And then he graduated and told me that being a husband and father was seriously cramping his style, so he was going to move to Colorado. Hey, presto, I was a single mom and a student teacher. Even less money and less time.”