Focused: A hate to love sports romance(46)

I was setting the photo back when her cool, firm fingers wrapped around mine and wove our hands together.

"You're here now, Noah," she said quietly. "That's what matters."

My jaw clenched tight, and I found myself nodding. Briefly, I allowed my fingers to tighten around hers, an anchor I hadn't asked for nor had I expected, but still had a hard time letting go of.

As I extricated my fingers from hers, the brush of skin on skin had me breathing unevenly.

Ridiculous.

That was the problem with choosing a celibate life, wasn't it? One small touch of her skin on mine had me desperately trying to rein in every caveman impulse galloping through my flimsy veins.

Carrying her suitcase for her, I showed her the main guest room across from the family room but was smart enough not to follow her in. My eyes landed briefly on the king-size bed as she laid her suitcase on it.

And still, I closed the door to give her some privacy as I brought my own things downstairs to the bed my grandma had assigned me for the next two nights. It wasn't as big, and it wasn't as comfortable, but I couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief that there was an entire flight of stairs separating me from Molly.

By the time I came back upstairs, they were all sitting down at the long wood table as my grandma served up fragrant spoonsful of tender roast and gravy. It was the kind of home-cooked meal that I never got unless I took the time to make it myself.

Upon her firm instruction, Marty had set the camera aside for our first meal. No gadgets allowed at the table, she’d said. The way Rick smiled, I knew they'd already planned to give us this one meal of un-filmed interaction, but at least they were kind enough to let her believe it was her idea.

The evening sped by quickly, despite how late the sun started setting in the summers. The five of us talked and laughed easily, my grandma telling stories of what I was like as a child when I visited in the summers and over spring break with my dad.

Rick asked questions, and even though I knew he was doing it for the purpose of the documentary, whether the camera was rolling or not, nothing felt forced or uncomfortable.

The whole meal, and the cleanup afterward, when Molly insisted my grandma go relax on the couch so the men could pull their weight in the kitchen, had a warm, steady feel to it. Like we were sitting on a docked boat on a calm lake.

There was a gentle ebb and flow to the conversation, instilling such a drowsy sense of comfort that I felt weigh my eyelids down once the kitchen was cleaned and I was able to sprawl out in the recliner that used to belong to my grandpa.

"Who's getting up with me in the morning to feed the horses?" Grandma asked.

Molly grinned. "I will!"

My gaze sharpened on her face, something I'd hardly allowed myself to do all night. "Seriously?"

"I love horses," she said earnestly.

"Do you love getting up at sunrise?"

She grimaced, and we all laughed.

Grandma got up out of her chair and kissed Molly on the top of the head. "If you're up, you're up, but I'll forgive you if you decide to sleep in, sweetheart."

The easy show of affection surprised me, and it clearly surprised Molly because her cheeks pinked as she glanced up at my grandma. "Okay."

I got up and wrapped Grandma in another hug. "G’night."

She patted my chest again, probably because she was too short to reach my face. "G’night, half-pint."

Marty snickered under his breath, and I quelled it with a glare.

Rick made his way to bed too, leaving me, Molly, and Marty.

Molly got up and walked to the windows, where my first telescope was still sitting. She glanced at me over her shoulder. "Yours?"

Nodding, I joined her even though I kept a safe distance between us as much due to Marty's presence as my own sanity. Mainly my sanity, I thought as I caught a whiff of her fruity shampoo. I wanted to bury my entire face in that head of hair.

"She bought it for me when I was twelve." I leaned over and lined up with the eyepiece, then pulled back to adjust a few knobs on the side to fix the focus. More than likely, it had stayed untouched for years. When I looked through again, I hummed. "Come look. You can see Virgo."

"Really?" She hurried over and leaned down. "How do I know what I'm looking at?"

"The brightest star, Spica, is the starting point along the bottom. Then you follow one more star up to Parrima. That’s another easy one to spot."

She hummed. "They all look pretty sparkly to me."

I laughed. "I'll show you what it looks like on a diagram. Once you know the shapes, it's easier to pick them out."

Molly straightened and gave me a curious look. A silky chunk of her hair slid out of her ponytail and curled down her neck. Before I knew what I was doing, I picked it up with two fingers and rubbed the edge of my thumb against her hair. Her mouth opened with a jagged inhale, and her eyes darted past me to Marty.

Right.

I dropped her hair and stepped back.

"I'm pretty tired," she said carefully. "And I really do want to help your grandma tomorrow with the horses."

My hands curled into fists to keep from reaching for her. My mind wouldn't even allow itself to process what I'd do once I did. As she said her good nights, I turned back to the window.

In one short evening, it felt like this place had ruthlessly dismantled every mental barrier I kept tied tight to myself.