Cupid Can Suck It: A Small Town Friends To Lovers Fake Relationship Holiday Romantic Comedy (Hope Island Holiday Romances Book 5) by Teagan Hart

Author:Teagan Hart [Hart, Teagan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lightning Strike Press
Published: 2023-01-29T13:00:00+00:00

17

Daws

That was too close. That was entirely too close. She’d told him twice now. Friends, Dawson. What are friends for? Definitely not for fantasizing about laying her down on that couch and . . . or pinning her to her bookcase and . . .

He was thankful for the cold night air as he moved through town. He was overheated and annoyed with himself and if he ran into anyone who wanted to stop him to chat on the way home, he might literally run into them. Damn it. What the hell was so frustrating and still so freaking addictive about Molly Frasier? And then it started to dawn on him. When it came to work, Molly didn’t pull punches or sugarcoat things. She didn’t simper or try to tell him what he wanted to hear. She returned fire when it came to the good-natured ribbing they gave each other as friends. And, as far as he knew, Molly had always been honest with him.

But tonight, she’d danced circles around his question when he’d asked her why she didn’t date. Something clicked into place in his head and his steps grew heavy as he neared his house. She was trying to spare me. She saw where I was going with the questions. And she headed me off. If she distracted me, I wouldn’t ask her . . . and then she wouldn’t have to say no.

“I am such an idiot,” Daws muttered.

“Well, I could have told you that,” Fred barked from his porch.

The walk had helped. And Daws knew that the last thing he needed right now was to be shut up in his house for the rest of the night, pacing, stressing about his mom’s visit, and what to do about all this crap in his head regarding Molly Frasier. So, he let his feet carry him past his gate and over to Fred’s. Mr. G was sitting on the chair beside Fred again. He narrowed his eyes and growled at Daws before soundlessly leaping down and moving behind Fred’s chair to glare at Daws as he approached.

“What the hell do you want?” Fred muttered, glancing up at Daws.

“Oh, just the joy of your company,” Daws said, settling himself in the chair next to Fred. Daws studied the piece of wood Fred was still working on. It was starting to smooth out, round on one end, but still long and rough on the other.

“Are you still carving that one spoon?” Daws asked.

“You know, you were onto something a minute ago,” Fred said, his voice thoughtful.

“What do you mean?” Daws asked.

“When you said you were an idiot.”

Daws sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me. I was just trying to pump some sunshine up your southern exposure, but I can see your tank is already full.”

“Cute,” Fred muttered. “So, why are you an idiot tonight?”

Daws blew out a sigh, trying to figure out how to frame his situation with Molly in a way that wouldn’t tell Fred all his business. Finally, he settled on a vague generalization.

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