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Mollie’s lips twisted as she considered it. “Most of my jeans are stained with mud.”
That would fit in more than what she was wearing. But even though I should have told her to change, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“We should go. I’m not staying out all night, and you should grab a jacket.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have one that matches. I’ll be fine.”
I grabbed one of mine. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re cold.”
“Jesus,” Jackie hissed. “How has she put up with you this long?”
“The beautiful sunsets and romantic dinners,” Mollie said.
I turned to her. “What did you just say?”
“Oh, just what’s going on. With a twist. Keep up the bad attitude, and I’ll say it in the bar.”
My jaw dropped.
Jackie and Eric laughed.
And I knew that I was going to fucking regret every second of this little adventure.
She smelled too good. And I couldn’t extract myself from it because I was locked in the truck with her. Suddenly, the thirty-minute drive to the square was torture.
And that had to be the only reason for what I said next.
“Listen, when I said it was too much ...”
“You were meaning it was too nice and that I overdressed. Don’t worry, I get it.”
I glanced over at her. “You shouldn’t let me off the hook that easily.”
“Probably not, but you’re gonna hate every second of this, so I expect some grumbling.”
“Call me out on it. Don’t just take it.”
It was her turn to glance at me. “O-okay. I will. But I’ll give you a free pass for the first one.”
“And I’m still gonna explain.”
“And what is it? That you think I’m pretty or something?”
“That’s exactly it, actually.” The cab went silent, and I did the exact opposite of what I would usually do. I kept talking. “You’re gonna be the best looking one there, though you usually are. And when people see you, they’ll think it’s a date.”
“But it’s not.”
“Still. You just look ...” I had a million words for it. Beautiful. Perfect. Like she was the fucking sun, and I was but a mere planet in her orbit. “Nice. Very nice.”
“Huh. So Cain Smithcancompliment people. Good to know. It’s nice to know I don’t only piss you off.”
“Half the time you piss me off because you look like you do. How is it that you manage to make mud look good, princess?”
She let out a musical laugh. “No idea. But I’ve heard nicer things in the last ten minutes than I’ve heard in the last five years in Nashville, so thank you. You’ve more than made up for what you said earlier.”
I clamped my jaw shut, unwilling to make myself look even more like a fool in front of her. Silence returned up until we were close to the town square.
“So, this bar ...” she began. “Is it good?”