That Thing You Do (Crystal Lake 2)

None of the guys had known. Only her.

“She’s one hell of a woman,” he said slowly.

“Good that you realize that.” Jess punched him in the shoulder. “You’d be a fool to let her go.”

“I’ve got to…” He pointed to the crowd behind him.

“Yeah,” Jess said with a soft smile. “You should go find her.” She nodded behind them to the table filled with their friends. “I’ll come up with an excuse that none of them will believe, but I’m pretty sure they won’t ask questions.” She pushed him. “Go.”

He turned and pushed his way through the crowd as the band kicked in, disappearing altogether to the sounds of an old Johnny Cash song.

Nathan Jacobs wasn’t just walking the l

ine. He was about to jump way the hell over it.

Chapter Fifteen

Molly barged through the kitchen, said a quick hello to the surprised staff, and didn’t stop until she was out the back door and into the fresh evening air. She dragged great big gulps of it deep into her lungs and leaned against the side of the building.

Unbelievable.

To walk into the Coach House and see Chess all over Nate was like a kick in the ass. A punch to the gut. A knife in the damn heart. One look at Chess and Molly knew what the woman was all about. She wanted to take Nate home, and she wanted to screw him until the cows came home. And he… She bit her lip to stop from screaming. He was all up in her business like he was going to take her up on what she was offering.

Molly was so pissed, she shook. And humiliated. And fucking hurt.

“Damn him,” she said into the dark, so angry, she wanted to punch something.

“Molly, what the hell?’

As by magic, Nate stood in front of her, and she knew she’d either punch him or fall apart, and since neither scenario appealed to her, she turned away.

“Just give me a minute,” she ground out.

“Why are you upset with me?”

“I’m not…” But she was, wasn’t she? Since when did she play games like this? “Give me five, Nate,” she repeated.

“Molly, what the hell’s going on?”

“If you have to ask, you’re an idiot.”

“I guess I’m an idiot, then, because I have no idea why you’re having a meltdown behind the Coach House.”

“I’m not having a meltdown.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” she ground out. “I’m having a damn moment, so let me have it.”

He swore a blue streak—said things that would set a nun’s panties on fire—but he backed away until the shadows fell over him and Molly was able to breathe. She closed her eyes and tried to find the calm she knew was somewhere inside her—it took more than a couple of minutes to do so. When she did, she exhaled, straightened her body as if she was going to war, and faced the man who was slowly driving her crazy.

He stepped into the muted light that fell from the open kitchen door, and her heart turned over. She realized then how much trouble she was in.

“Any woman but her, Nate.”

“I don’t…” The fact that he looked confused irritated the hell out of her.

“Jesus, Nate. Chess Somers. She was practically screwing you in the bar. Everyone knows it. We all saw it.”