“I have several extras.” I walked in as she moved back. Inhaling deeply, I glanced around at her. “It smells like heaven in here.”
Her cheeks burned pink, making her impossibly attractive. The woman had not one clue of her beauty. And why the hell would she? Harry had fucked her over by sleeping with other women. Of all things to tarnish in that situation, her self-worth and appearance would be the first.
“I made lasagna from scratch. My grandmother was Italian, so she taught me when I was a little girl.” She followed beside me into the kitchen.
I leaned over and sat my bag down as I breathed in deeply again. Garlic. Butter. My stomach screamed in protest. “Well, you didn’t have to do this. You should have taken a day to yourself to rest.”
“It’s the least I could do, Alfie.” She walked around me, and damn if I didn’t let my eyes run down her back to the thick swell of her ass in her leggings. My body hardened again, leaving me needy for something more than a good meal and a glass of wine.
Stop it. Shit. She’s your best friend’s fiancée. They were getting married yesterday. Asshole.
I needed to get laid. Soon, lest I fuck things up with Molly. She needed a safe place to find herself and begin her healing, not a horny bastard who pretended to have good intentions but didn’t. I did. I knew I did. I just had to remind my dick of that.
“Well, thank you. It means a lot to me.” I walked to the pantry and opened the wine cellar door. “Red wine, right?”
“It goes best with pasta for sure,” she called over her shoulder.
I swallowed my need and jogged down into the cellar. The cold air swelled around me, helping to take a little bit of the heat out of my veins. I could behave and help her out. Karma was a responsible bitch and would return the grace to me that I gave to Molly.
And besides that…I liked her. As a person.
Dinner and wine, good conversation, and then I was off to bed.
Alone.
Chapter Eight
Molly
I knew Alfie was already gone when I woke to sunlight leaking in through the curtains of the guest room. The sound of his staff throughout the house kept me in bed while I snuggled deeper into the blankets. If I had two weeks left before having to go back to the States to face the damage, I planned on taking every opportunity to catch up on sleep while I could. I still struggled with the time change, even days later, and I needed to think straight when it came to what I was going to do next.
And what that was, I had no fucking clue.
A headache pounded in my temples just thinking about it. I needed to call Peyton to make sure that she got back to New York just fine. I should have already done it. Maybe I could rent out a room with her for a few weeks while I looked for a new apartment in the city. She wouldn’t mind at all, and maybe having some time around her would help me with the healing process.
I had no intention of staying in London in the flat that Harry was still using. He could have it. He could pay for it. My life would be better lived back in the United States where I could soon turn his sorry ass into a distant memory.
Besides, I wanted my old life back in the city—the one that I had dropped for him because he didn’t want me split between the United States and England.
Why hadn’t I seen any of this shit before? He was such a selfish bastard, and I fell for it without asking a question. Is security that important?
It seemed so clear now that Harry and I were complete strangers. I had forced myself to look away from those warning signs that were there from the very beginning. I was twenty-eight and about to start all over again. I felt exhausted at the thought of going back into the dating scene after being tied to Harry for so many years.
Gary was going to have a blast rubbing all of it in my face. I knew he would the second he found out that the wedding was off. I could just hear his gravelly voice saying, “I told you, Molly. I told you not to hand in your resignation.”
I waited until I heard the last of the staff leave the house before taking a quick shower. I found my laundry sitting neatly in a laundry basket outside of the guest bedroom door that the maid had left there for me. Grateful, I slipped into a pair of leggings and a long-sleeve shirt to combat the chilly spring day. That was one thing that I did not enjoy about England—the very cold and rainy spring days.
My phone battery was in the red when I found it at the bottom of my purse in the living room. Plugging it in to charge, I reluctantly picked up the landline to dial Peyton’s number. Alfie had made it clear that I could use the phone to avoid international charges on my own phone plan.
“Hello?” she answered after the first ring. The sound of her voice caused relief to flood me. I’d just seen her the day before, but she was a comfort to me. She had been for a long time.
“It’s me,” I said, sitting down on the edge of a chair. “I just wanted to make sure that you made it back to the city okay.”
“Yeah. It was a long flight, but I’m home. Safe and sound.” She let out a sigh, and I could almost see her sitting on her flamboyant red couch in the middle of her modernized living room. Part of me yearned to be there with her.
“Good.” I reached up and tucked a stray hair behind my ear as one of the maids walked by and gave me a warm smile. I waved not knowing what else to do.
“Yeah, so what’s going on? Are you still at Alfie’s place in Devon?” her voice tightened a little. Great.