2. Molly

CHAPTER 2

MOLLY

The hottie holds my hand tight as we weave our way through the crowded bar. He guides me to a secluded table in the back and holds out my chair for me. After sitting next to me, he scoots his chair much closer than I anticipated. His presence is overwhelming, in the most electrifying way.

I have no control over my eyes as they slowly roam over him. His dark hair, thick and slightly tousled, adds to his rugged charm. The rich, inky strands contrast strikingly with his olive skin tone. The healthy tan of his complexion hints at a possible Hispanic heritage.

His green eyes are the most captivating part of his appearance—vivid and piercing, framed by thick lashes. A dusting of stubble covers his strong jawline, enhancing his rugged yet effortlessly stylish look. The stubble, dark against his olive skin, lends him an air of maturity and a hint of roguish charm. God. I'm starting to sound like whoever writes the Silver Spoon Single Serve gossip column.

"Comfortable?" he asks, his intense gaze making me all too aware of how close we are. His emerald green eyes hold mine captive as he lifts my hand up to his lips. When he places a soft kiss across my knuckles, I almost melt into a puddle of goo on the spot.

"Uh, yes, very," I stammer, trying to maintain my composure. It's difficult not to fan myself as sexual tension swirls around us. The heat radiating from our closeness feels almost palpable.

The rude waitress from earlier strides over, her manner still brisk and unfriendly. "What can I get you?" she asks, her tone bordering on impatience as intense hatred for me flashes through her pale blue eyes.

"You can ask again," Hunt cuts in, shocking us both. "And this time, ask nicely like you're hoping for a tip."

He stares unblinking at the rude waitress until she tucks her tail between her legs and turns to me to mutter, "What would you like to drink, ma'am?"

"I'll have a glass of white wine, please," I say, trying hard to keep my tone even and polite.

She rolls her eyes and jots down our order before walking away, leaving behind a trail of palpable tension.

"Well, she's having a bad night." I turn back to Hunt, who's still watching me intently. His heated stare causes goosebumps to break out along my spine.

"So, Molly, what brought you to the matchmaker?" he asks, leaning slightly closer, and his proximity evokes a mix of excitement and nerves to flutter in my stomach.

"It was a bit of a leap," I admit, smiling sheepishly. "I moved to Silver Spoon Falls a few months ago for a job and, well, it gets pretty lonely sometimes."

He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. "I understand. I've just moved here myself." His voice is soothing, yet there's an undercurrent of something deeper that makes me want to know more.

The waitress returns with our drinks, practically slamming them onto the table. "Enjoy," she says sarcastically before striding off.

"Thank you," the good manners Gran drilled into my head come out automatically. I doubt she hears me or even cares. Hunt rubs the back of my knuckles, bringing my attention back to him.

"Don't mind her." His presence commands my attention, and I forget all about the rude woman. "Now, where were we?"

The conversation flows easily from that point, and I find myself relaxing, enjoying his company more with each passing minute. Despite the less-than-stellar service, tonight feels promising. Hunt's charm and the warmth in his eyes make the loneliness I've felt since I graduated and moved to town seem like a distant memory.

As the night stretches on, I start to believe that maybe, just maybe, Silver Spoon Falls holds more for me than I ever dared to hope. And sitting next to me, Hunt is making that possibility feel incredibly real.

"This bar has the best burgers and fries," Hunt says as he takes a bite of his massive double cheeseburger. I notice how comfortable he is here, as if he belongs, yet something about him is intriguingly out of place in this quiet, unassuming town.

"So, Hunt Sola, what brought you to Silver Spoon Falls?" I ask, genuinely curious. His presence and demeanor suggest a past that's anything but ordinary.

He pauses, a slight smile curling at the edges of his lips. "Well, I recently retired from my career as a professional athlete. I played football, actually. After years on the road, I wanted a change and Silver Spoon Falls seemed like the perfect place to start fresh."

My eyes widen in surprise. "Wow, I had no idea! That's incredible. What position did you play?"

"Quarterback," he chuckles, a hint of pride in his voice, and I shake my head, pretending that I know the first thing about football. "It was a wild ride, but it was time for me to hang up my cleats and move on."

I marvel at how casually he speaks about a life that seems worlds away from mine. "That sounds amazing. I can't imagine the experiences you must have had."

He meets my gaze, his eyes softening. "It was, but believe me, I'm ready for something more." There's a look in his eyes that causes my virgin girly parts to wake up and take notice. "And you, Molly? What job brought you to Silver Spoon Falls?"

I take a sip of my wine, collecting my thoughts. "Well, I graduated from the University of Houston with a double degree in Finance and Economics six months ago, and moved here to become a personal banker at Montoya Investments." I smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment seep into my words. "It's my first real job in the industry, and I'm still getting my bearings, but it's been a great learning experience so far."

Hunt's eyes light up with genuine interest. "That's impressive. Moving to a new town and starting a new job right out of college takes guts."

"Thanks," I reply, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. "It's been challenging, but it's also exciting. Silver Spoon Falls has been quite welcoming, and the locals are lovely." And freaking rich. It's the perfect town to pursue a banking career.

We talk and laugh through the rest of our meal, sharing stories and finding common ground. Hunt's openness and warmth dissolve any remnants of nervousness I had earlier. As we finish our meal, he sits back and smiles at me, causing my blood to sing in my veins, but I know I have to call an end to the night if I'm going to be on my game tomorrow morning.

"I hate to end things early, but I have an early breakfast appointment tomorrow morning." And I can't screw up this chance to convince Ms. Martinsen to let me handle her multimillion-dollar portfolio.

"I understand." He stares into my eyes and smiles, bringing my hand back to his lips for another soft kiss. "I'll drive you home."

"Oh. I walked here. My apartment is just two blocks away," I protest lightly, though the idea of spending more time with him is extremely appealing.

"Then I'll walk you home," he insists, and his disarming smile wins me over. "I want to make sure you get there safely." I should worry about showing a stranger where I live, but I feel completely at ease in his presence. Plus, the matchmaker assured me she investigates all her clients to make sure they're exactly who they say they are.

We step out into the cool night air, and the sounds of the town settle into the background as we stroll down the quiet street. The gorgeous orange full moon casts a soft glow, making the moment feel almost magical. As we walk side by side, our conversation flows seamlessly.

Finally, we reach my apartment building. He follows me past the doorman and into the elevator. By the time we make it to the fourth floor, I'm a nervous wreck. He follows me to my door and I turn to face him, feeling a mixture of anticipation and something deeper swirling within me. "Thank you for dinner, Hunt. I had a wonderful time."

"The pleasure was all mine, goddess," he says, his voice low and sincere. He steps closer, and my breath catches in my throat.

Before I can say anything more, he leans in and captures my lips with his. The kiss is gentle at first, then deepens, filled with a sizzle that burns me from the inside out. My hand instinctively reaches up to rest on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart.

His tongue lightly traces my lips before it slides into my mouth to tangle with mine. When he finally pulls back, I'm left breathless, my skin tingling and my heart racing. He smiles, his thumb gently brushing my cheek. "Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

He wants to see me again. I barely resist the urge to do my happy dance as I smile up at him. "I'd love to."

"Can I have your phone?" His question confuses me until he adds, "I'll give you my number."

"Oh." I reach into my bag for my cell phone and hand it to him. "Good idea." He has turned my mind to mush. I wasn't even considering how I'd get in touch with him after tonight.

I hear his phone ding in his pocket. "I texted myself, so I now have your number and you have mine, too."

"I can't wait until tomorrow night." I bite my bottom lip, tempted to say to heck with my early morning meeting.

"Goodnight, Molly." He places a soft kiss on my lips.

"Goodnight, Hunt," I manage to whisper, still lost in the sensation of his kiss.

As I watch him walk away, my emotions are a whirlwind. Tonight wasn't just a date—it was the beginning of something new, something incredibly special.

After Hunt leaves, I step inside my apartment with the lingering warmth of his kiss still tingling on my lips. The quiet room is such a contrast to the whirlwind of emotions rushing through me. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoes louder than usual, as if the walls themselves are amplifying the feelings bottled up inside me.

I lean against the door for a moment, closing my eyes and replaying every detail of the night. From the conversation over dinner, to the walk home, to that electrifying kiss goodnight, my heart is still fluttering like hummingbird wings over the effect Hunt had on me.

Deciding I need to clear my head, I decide to take a long, relaxing shower before bed. The steam from the hot water swirls around me, a comforting cocoon that I hope will help me sleep.

As the warm water cascades over me, I try to relax, letting the evening's events seep into my skin. I keep thinking about Hunt—his smile, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the room. And the way his deep voice called me goddess. The entire evening was intoxicating.

I reluctantly step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a fluffy, pink towel. The air conditioning cools off my overheated skin. It's late, and I should be exhausted, but memories from tonight linger, keeping my mind alert and my heart thrumming.

I settle into bed, and the sheets are cool against my skin as I snuggle under the covers. I turn off the light and stare up at the dark ceiling, trying to find some semblance of calm. But my thoughts keep circling back to him.

Hunt Sola. Just hours ago, he was a name on a piece of paper, a stranger. Now, he occupies every corner of my mind. The way he spoke about his past, with a mix of pride and humility. The way he listened to me, genuinely interested in my story. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled. It's all too much and not enough at the same time.

I roll onto my side, pulling the comforter tighter around me, and close my eyes, but sleep refuses to come.

Memories of our conversation play on a loop—his deep, soothing voice recounting tales from his days as a professional athlete, and the admiration in his eyes when he listened to my experiences at the bank. I can't help but replay the way he said my name, the way it sounded impossibly perfect coming from his lips.