set. Molly excused herself with instructions that if they needed anything, Kayla would be finishing up with them.
She began to step away and got a few feet further when Hunter called to her.
“Any chance you are up for some company tomorrow on your morning walk?”
Molly turned around quickly, stumbling in fact before righting herself and looking at him to confirm if she heard him correctly
“Uh, come again?”
Now with what she was sure was a complete look of confusion, she faced a table whose entire attention lay on her.
Hunter smiled once more, causing that all too familiar tingle to take place before he said louder and clearer, “Mind if I tag along on your walk?”
Her bumbling and then inability to form words sure as heck proved just how off balance his question set her.
“Uh, yeah, that would be fine . . . I guess.”
His blue eyes twinkled with mirth. “Well, if that isn’t a decisive acceptance, I don’t know what is.”
For some miracle, she could form a somewhat realistic laugh because she knew the moment called for one, but it didn’t stop the puzzlement from which she was feeling. As attuned as he always was, Hunter added with a shrug of his shoulder, “It’s okay if you’d rather not. My feelings won’t be hurt. I just thought a nice walk with a friend would do me some good.”
A friend. Maybe that was exactly what she needed, too.
“That sounds nice.”
Hunter, obviously thrilled with her answer, forked a large gooey piece of pie and met her gaze once more. “Nice is a great place to start.”
Like her mornings weren’t busy enough. Now, she stood in front of her less than spectacular closet mentally putting different pieces of her wardrobe together for the perfect walking outfit.
Molly fell back on her bed and threw her arm over her eyes. Suddenly feeling every bit of the almost thirty-seven years she was.
It is a walk, Molly! Not a marriage proposal!
She actually grunted at the appeal of her own sarcastic thought.
Just because Hunter Dennison asks you to take a walk, and just because he makes a point to say he is looking to do it with a friend, and just because he says that idea struck him as nice, is no reason to not enjoy it for its face value. It is a NICE WALK with a FRIEND.
If you could follow that logic, girlfriend, you are one up on the rest of the population.
“It is so amazing that I can actually dress myself with all this other crap that goes on in my head,” she muttered to herself dryly.
Get up! Just get up, get dressed in something you would wear any other day, and stay out of the bathroom.
“The bathroom?” Molly questioned herself aloud, wondering why her subconscious would say such a thing then she answered herself.
If you enter the bathroom, it will just result in your primping for another twenty minutes.
“It is just a walk,” Molly said, thinking if she said it aloud, it would drill it further into her brain.
“What’s just a walk?” Sammy asked curiously, as she hopped on her mother’s bed.
Definitely not going to try to explain it to an eight-year-old when I myself can’t figure out why I’m so crazy over such a simple task.
“Oh nothing, baby. Mommy’s just talking to herself.”
This diversion was apparently good enough for the smallest Jenson female. Because she accepted, moved on, and began asking her mother all about the town’s Memorial Day Festival events for this year.
Molly answered each question as best she could while she finished dressing in her usual black yoga pants with a white Molly’s t-shirt and her hair up in a high ponytail.
“Can I sit in the dunk tank this year?” Sammy asked jumping up and down excited about the idea of such a fun thing to do for an eight-year-old.
Never stop being so free spirited, my love.
With a smile etched on her face and placing her hands over each of her daughter’s ears before gently shaking her head, Molly remarked playfully, “Sweetie, we don’t need to wait
She began to step away and got a few feet further when Hunter called to her.
“Any chance you are up for some company tomorrow on your morning walk?”
Molly turned around quickly, stumbling in fact before righting herself and looking at him to confirm if she heard him correctly
“Uh, come again?”
Now with what she was sure was a complete look of confusion, she faced a table whose entire attention lay on her.
Hunter smiled once more, causing that all too familiar tingle to take place before he said louder and clearer, “Mind if I tag along on your walk?”
Her bumbling and then inability to form words sure as heck proved just how off balance his question set her.
“Uh, yeah, that would be fine . . . I guess.”
His blue eyes twinkled with mirth. “Well, if that isn’t a decisive acceptance, I don’t know what is.”
For some miracle, she could form a somewhat realistic laugh because she knew the moment called for one, but it didn’t stop the puzzlement from which she was feeling. As attuned as he always was, Hunter added with a shrug of his shoulder, “It’s okay if you’d rather not. My feelings won’t be hurt. I just thought a nice walk with a friend would do me some good.”
A friend. Maybe that was exactly what she needed, too.
“That sounds nice.”
Hunter, obviously thrilled with her answer, forked a large gooey piece of pie and met her gaze once more. “Nice is a great place to start.”
Like her mornings weren’t busy enough. Now, she stood in front of her less than spectacular closet mentally putting different pieces of her wardrobe together for the perfect walking outfit.
Molly fell back on her bed and threw her arm over her eyes. Suddenly feeling every bit of the almost thirty-seven years she was.
It is a walk, Molly! Not a marriage proposal!
She actually grunted at the appeal of her own sarcastic thought.
Just because Hunter Dennison asks you to take a walk, and just because he makes a point to say he is looking to do it with a friend, and just because he says that idea struck him as nice, is no reason to not enjoy it for its face value. It is a NICE WALK with a FRIEND.
If you could follow that logic, girlfriend, you are one up on the rest of the population.
“It is so amazing that I can actually dress myself with all this other crap that goes on in my head,” she muttered to herself dryly.
Get up! Just get up, get dressed in something you would wear any other day, and stay out of the bathroom.
“The bathroom?” Molly questioned herself aloud, wondering why her subconscious would say such a thing then she answered herself.
If you enter the bathroom, it will just result in your primping for another twenty minutes.
“It is just a walk,” Molly said, thinking if she said it aloud, it would drill it further into her brain.
“What’s just a walk?” Sammy asked curiously, as she hopped on her mother’s bed.
Definitely not going to try to explain it to an eight-year-old when I myself can’t figure out why I’m so crazy over such a simple task.
“Oh nothing, baby. Mommy’s just talking to herself.”
This diversion was apparently good enough for the smallest Jenson female. Because she accepted, moved on, and began asking her mother all about the town’s Memorial Day Festival events for this year.
Molly answered each question as best she could while she finished dressing in her usual black yoga pants with a white Molly’s t-shirt and her hair up in a high ponytail.
“Can I sit in the dunk tank this year?” Sammy asked jumping up and down excited about the idea of such a fun thing to do for an eight-year-old.
Never stop being so free spirited, my love.
With a smile etched on her face and placing her hands over each of her daughter’s ears before gently shaking her head, Molly remarked playfully, “Sweetie, we don’t need to wait
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