Molly's Man (Haven, Texas 4)

And look where she’d ended up. A full circle. She was back to having a pity party, wondering what she’d done to deserve this.

For years she’d coaxed people into speaking about their emotions, about their greatest fears, their darkest days. She’d guided them through the torment and most of the time to the other side. And right now, when she needed that for herself, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t figure out a way free from the darkness.

She wanted to go home.

She slumped to the floor of the hotel room she’d rented. She was paying a ridiculous amount to stay in the most exclusive resort on the island and she could have been in some hovel for all she noticed. Ever since she’d arrived, she’d just lain in bed crying.

She’d made the wrong choice. The tightness in her chest eased slightly. She’d run when she should have stayed and fought.

Secrets really did have a way of festering. Of poisoning one from the inside out. She could tell herself she’d done the right thing, but had she?

She wanted to go home.

So that’s what she was going to do. Being here wasn’t making her happy. She was utterly miserable—and alone. She’d been lonely for so much of her life, while her mother was dying, then after her death until her aunt took her in. Even when she’d been with Richard she’d felt isolated.

But in Haven, she’d never been lonely. Even if Jake didn’t want her, she had friends there and she needed them. If Jake did want her, she’d just have to make damn sure he wasn’t staying out of obligation. And she’d have to do whatever she could to protect him when she was gone. She didn’t know how, and maybe this was a purely selfish move. But it felt right. Just making the decision to tell everyone made her feel lighter.

No, she wouldn’t be alone. Never again.

She rose, purpose filling her with energy as she grabbed her laptop and bought an online ticket for the next flight to L.A., which wasn’t leaving until midnight the following night. She quickly packed then sat, looking around. What to do for the night? She’d spent enough time in this room.

She took her bucket list from her handbag. Maybe it was time to tick off something else.

Jake winced as she completely missed the note. She was a terrible singer; not that anyone listening seemed to care. It was close to two a.m., and those left in the beachside bar were either too drunk or too tired to care about the awful noise coming from Molly. Did she actually consider that singing? From the way she swayed back and forth he could tell she was more than a little tipsy. Maybe she sounded better when she was sober.

He took a sip of his beer and watched her, taking his fill. He was exhausted from the two flights. His plane had been delayed in Los Angeles, so he hadn’t arrived in Rarotonga until well after ten. Then he’d gone straight to her hotel room. How Saxon had known where she was staying, let alone her room number, he didn’t know. That man was scary sometimes.

She hadn’t been there. That would have been too easy. Luckily, the guy in reception wasn’t all that concerned about the privacy of his guests. He’d told Jake that Molly had been asking about karaoke and he’d directed her to this bar.

The song, thankfully, ended, and Jake stood, ready to make his move. She stumbled as she headed off the stage. Didn’t she realize how vulnerable she was? All alone? Drunk? Anyone could take advantage of her. He frowned as a man approached her. He grabbed her arm, pulling her against him then swayed with her. Jake waited for her to draw back, to push the idiot away. Instead, she seemed to sag against the potbellied dickwad who was currently sliding his hands down to her butt.

Uh-uh. Not happening.

That was Jake’s butt, because she was Jake’s woman, and no one else got to touch her. He moved quickly towards them, slamming his hand down on the other guy’s shoulder. He was several inches shorter than Jake, and his T-shirt was soaked from sweat.

Damn, that was disgusting. He was going to need disinfecting.

The guy turned. “Bugger off, I’m dancing.”

“Well you need to go find some other girl to dance with because this one’s mine.”

Molly raised her face and looked up at him. For a moment, he thought he’d been mistaken and she wasn’t drunk like he’d first thought. Then she smiled a big, loopy grin. “Jake!”

Yep, she was completely sloshed. Otherwise she wouldn’t be greeting him like a long-lost friend. She pulled back from potbelly and opened her arms. “You’re here. I wondered if you’d turn up tonight.”

She had? Had someone told her he was coming?

“He turns up in all my dreams, you know,” she told potbelly. “Although usually, the dreams are sexier than this one. I’m tied up to a spanking bench or a St. Andrews Cross, and he tells me what a bad girl I’ve been for lying to him. Then he spanks me. And then he makes me come. Over and over. Oh, the sex is so amazing. I miss it.” She sighed.

Well, he guessed he should be grateful she missed something.

Potbelly, who looked more than a little alarmed, stepped away. He gave Jake a worried look. “She’s all yours, mate.” Then he scurried off like the fat, little rat he was.

Lying to him? What had she been lying to him about? Jake eyed her for a moment. “Your memory seems to be a little faulty, love. If you were being punished for lying you wouldn’t be allowed to come.”

“But this is my dream.” She frowned. “In my dream, I get to come.”

He ran a hand through her hair. It was tied up in a ponytail, and he quickly released it, letting the thick tresses fly free. “What have you been lying to me about, Molly?” It was a bit underhanded of him to question her while she wasn’t sober, but his curiosity was piqued.