Molly's Man (Haven, Texas Book 4) Read online

  Molly’s Man

  Laylah Roberts

  Contents

  Let’s keep in touch!

  Books by Laylah Roberts

  Dedication

  Molly’s Bucket List

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Lila’s Loves

  Laken’s Surrender

  Saving Savannah

  Laylah Roberts

  Molly’s Man

  © 2018, Laylah Roberts

  [email protected]

  laylahroberts.com

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Cover Design by: Spellbound Cover Designs

  Editing: Eve Arroyo

  Created with Vellum

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  Books by Laylah Roberts

  Doms of Decadence

  Just for You, Sir

  Forever Yours, Sir

  For the Love of Sir

  Sinfully Yours, Sir

  Make me, Sir

  A Taste of Sir

  To Save Sir

  Sir’s Redemption

  Men of Orion

  Worlds Apart

  Cavan Gang

  Rectify

  Redemption

  Redemption Valley

  Audra’s Awakening

  Old-Fashioned Series

  An Old-Fashioned Man

  Two Old-Fashioned Men

  Her Old-Fashioned Husband

  Her Old-Fashioned Boss

  His Old-Fashioned Love

  Haven, Texas Series

  Lila’s Loves

  Laken’s Surrender

  Saving Savannah

  Molly’s Man

  WildeSide

  Wilde

  Sinclair

  Luke

  The Hunters

  A Mate to Cherish

  A Mate to Sacrifice (coming October, 2018)

  Dedication

  Dedicated to my Grandma.

  Molly’s Bucket List

  Go to Haven to find some hunk (or two) to give me the ride of my life.

  Go to a BDSM club and have said hunk tie me up and spank my ass (yum!)

  Try something new every day

  Jump out of a plane (parachute optional lol)

  Learn to knit

  Get massively drunk and sing bad karaoke (is there any other kind?)

  Learn French (since I’ll never get to Paris)

  Drive a motorcycle (fast)

  Get a tattoo

  Live out rest of my (short) life on some tropical island, drinking cocktails and watching the sunset.

  NO REGRETS

  Prologue

  The whiskey tasted horrid.

  Didn’t matter if it was expensive or cheap, it always felt like she was pouring gas down her throat. Molly grimaced. She’d never really developed a taste for the stuff, but her mother had loved it. So, every year on the anniversary of her mom’s death, she forced a few sips down in tribute.

  She stared at the photo of her mother resting in her lap. A smiling woman with alabaster skin and wild red hair stared back at her. A tear dripped down her cheek, and she wiped it away impatiently. She’d cried enough tears over the years. How many times had her aunt said her mother wouldn’t have wanted her to mourn her forever?

  Although today, twenty-two years after her mother’s death, she wasn’t crying over losing her. She was crying for herself and that really pissed her off.

  “You always knew this was coming,” she muttered to herself. “No use getting this upset. Doesn’t change anything.”

  Her mother had died at thirty-seven. Her grandmother at thirty-five. The history of breast cancer in her family was something she’d always had hanging over her. Like a guillotine waiting to drop. Now that’s a gruesome image.

  She set her mother’s photo down on her desk and turned to stare out the window at the sparkling lights of New York City. Normally the night view from her office gave her a sense of excitement.

  But she was starting to feel like this wasn’t where she was meant to be. Savannah’s fault. Her former patient’s stories about the town she lived in had made Molly realize that something was missing in her life. She was lonely.

  Savannah was now doing amazingly well considering all she’d been through. They’d worked together for months, helping Savannah work through the trauma of being attacked and kidnapped and the ensuing agoraphobia that had developed.

  Molly was fond of Savannah and her men even though she’d never actually met them in person. Maybe it was time for that to change.

  What would it be like to live in a town where the women were watched over, protected, and always came first? Where relationships with more than just two partners weren’t just accepted but practically the norm? She couldn’t imagine having two men. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to deal with one. She snorted as bitter feelings rose from the memories of her failed relationship with Richard. The dick.

  Richard had left a long time ago after claiming he couldn’t stand living with a ticking time bomb, never knowing when it would go off. Well, how the hell did he think she felt? She was the one carrying the bomb. But she got it. Watching her mother grow progressively sicker then die had broken her father. He’d turned from a caring, if a little distant, father into someone who’d barely acknowledged her existence. If it wasn’t for her aunt taking her in . . . well, she didn’t know what would have happened to her.

  Her father’s sister had welcomed a traumatized thirteen-year-old into her home and it had been the best thing that could have happened to her. Her aunt died three years ago, her father last year. Now Molly was alone.

  With a grimace at the thought, she turned back to her computer, wiggling the mouse to wake up the screen. She read over her resignation. She’d have to work out some notice, she had patients she’d need to gently transfer over to other therapists. But she had some leave saved up. Soon, she’d be on her way to Haven.

  She looked over at her mother’s photo. “Gonna find me a man or two to have a good time with, Mom. Not sure you’d be proud exactly, but it’s time I lived my life.”

  All her life she’d done the right thing. She’d tried to fit in, to conform. To make her father notice her, to make Richard happy.

  Now she was going to do what made her happy. She knew she didn’t have much time left. Her family history told her that.

  And so did that small lump she’d found in her breast.

  Once, the sounds and smells of a BDSM club would have brought him excitement. Would have made his heart race, his body stir. Now all he saw was what he’d once had—and lost.

  Saxon settled himself onto the stool next to Jake, studying the main dungeon floor. Saxon ran a tight ship. There were club rules everyone followed, or they were out. In here it was his way or the highway.

  “Nice little scene go
ing on in medical,” he said to Jake. “You should take a look.”

  Jake grunted, uninterested. He glanced over to where a tall, thin man was tied to a St Andrews cross. His Dominant, a shorter, slightly pudgy man with a receding hairline leaned in to check with him. The sub smiled and nodded. Then the Dom stepped back and flicked the whip he held in his hand, using the sound to build his sub’s anticipation—and trepidation.

  Saxon’s gaze followed Jake’s. “If you asked, I’m sure Mike would give you a turn whipping Peter’s ass. From what I hear they’ve been looking for a third.”

  Jake had to work hard to keep himself from reacting. Saxon was just trying to get a reaction. Stirring the pot was something he excelled at. And he was one of the few people who could penetrate the wall Jake had wrapped around himself.

  “You know I’m not gay.”

  “No? Thought you might be leaning that way since you keep rejecting all the female subs I send your way. There’s nothing wrong with it, you know. Butt sex is hot. If you want to do it with a guy, then I say go for it.”

  Jake gave him an exasperated look. “Well, thank you for your approval. It means the world to me.”

  Saxon grinned. “No worries. So, you want me to find you a male sub?”

  “No, I don’t want you to find me any sort of sub.”

  “Too bad, you and Angus would have made a really cute couple.”

  “Angus? Angus is seventy-two!” Jake gaped at Saxon.

  “He’s pretty energetic for seventy-two. Acts like a man in his sixties, if you ask me.”

  “Saxon, why won’t you leave this alone?”

  “Because you’re no masochist and yet twice a month you come here to punish yourself for some imagined crime.”

  Imagined crime? His wife had died because he hadn’t been here to look after her.

  “What happened to Rebecca wasn’t your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself.”

  He should have been with her. He should have taken care of her better.

  Jake sent him a sharp look. “I’m not blaming myself. And I’ve played a few times since her death.”

  “Only once that I can recall. And then it was more to do with trying to draw out that bastard who was after Laken. You chose Madison to play with, and she’s a selfish little bitch.”

  “I don’t think talking about one of your members like that is good for business.”

  Saxon just snorted.

  “I’m the sheriff. The people of this town hold me to a higher standard.”

  Saxon smirked. “Three quarters of this town are as kinky as the day is long. Half of the town council comes in here on a regular basis. You really think they’re gonna be shocked if their sheriff decides to pick up a paddle and spank a sub’s ass?”

  He knew Saxon was right. It was just an excuse, but it was one he clung to. He wasn’t ready to move on. Every time he thought about playing, Rebecca entered his mind, making him pull back. Yeah, he’d used Madison. She was his cover for being in the club most nights while they’d been trying to figure out who was after Laken. It was a shitty thing to do, but it wasn’t like she’d been looking for a commitment.

  “Leave it alone, Saxon.”

  “You know I loved her too.”

  They didn’t talk about this. Ever. So why was he bringing Rebecca up tonight?

  “I’m leaving.” Jake made to rise. He didn’t know what had gotten into Saxon and he didn’t want to. They’d long since buried this conversation.

  Saxon reached out and grabbed his arm, stilling him. Jake turned, startled by the fierce look on Saxon’s face. It wasn’t like him to be so serious. Oh, when it came to the club he was all business. But all else tended to be fair game to Saxon’s slightly bent sense of humor. He pushed when he should retreat. But they’d always had an unspoken agreement about this. He might try to send subs Jake’s way, but he never took it further than that.

  “You know it doesn’t all get to be on your terms, Jake.”

  Jake raised his eyebrows, shrugging off Saxon’s hold. The men were nearly a match physically. Jake was a few inches taller, but Saxon was slightly wider across the chest.

  “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with you tonight? What’s on my terms?”

  “This?” Saxon waved a hand. “You come here once a month, sit there all melancholy and serious, watch a few scenes then you leave. Why? What’s the point?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Isn’t it? Rebecca was the only family I had, Jake. She was the only person in this world I loved. And now she’s gone. She’s been gone for three years, and I’m still not allowed to talk about her. To fucking mourn her. And you won’t even tell me why you turn up like some ghoul every few weeks. At first, I thought it was some sort of tribute to her, a way to remember her. Then I wondered if it was a punishment. Now, I just think you need help.”

  “I need help?” Saxon was one of the most messed up people he’d ever met. “Pot meet kettle. And you have other family, or have you forgotten your brother.”

  “He’s my half-brother, and we no longer have a relationship. I’m not saying I don’t have my fair share of demons, but I have my way of working through them.”

  “Maybe this is my way of dealing.”

  Saxon shook his head. “If it was, you’d make some progress. You’d at least fucking get off that stool and engage with people. I’m tired of not talking about her, Jake. Of pretending she never existed.”

  The sad note in Saxon’s voice was the only thing that stopped him from walking off. He knew it wasn’t an act. When it came to Rebecca, Saxon didn’t kid around. She was the only person who’d remained a constant in his life. Besides Jake.

  Although that was before Saxon moved to Haven. He’d followed Jake here, bought a house, then set up the club. Jake hadn’t thought he’d last six months in the small town. Saxon had not only settled in but was making a place for himself. He had ties to the community now. Friends. A life that wouldn’t be so easy to walk away from. And it hit Jake then.

  Saxon was moving forward. While Jake was still back in the past, wallowing in the memories.

  “I never said you couldn’t talk about her.”

  “No? You shut me down every time I mention her.”

  “I don’t want to discuss her.”

  “Why? Because it hurts? Well it hurts not to talk about her as well. Not speaking about your shit doesn’t make it go away, Jake. It festers and swells until it bursts. It becomes a cancer in your soul.”

  “Since when did you get so poetic, Dr. Phil?” Jake asked sarcastically.

  “I don’t know, losing my baby sister might have had something to do with it. Watching her husband spiral further and further into a weird kind of depression might also be a part of it.”

  “I am not depressed.”

  “No? Then what do you call it?”

  “I call it not wanting to dwell in the past.”

  Saxon snorted, but there was a look in his eyes Jake didn’t like. A look he’d seen too often after Rebecca’s death. Pity.

  His hands had clenched into fists before he realized what he was doing, and forced himself to relax, letting out a deep breath.

  “Hard not to dwell on the past when that’s all you think about. When it’s where you’re still living.”

  “I am not living in the past.”

  If he were, Rebecca would still be alive. How often had he wished he could go back and change things? He would have been there for her. He would have been the one driving the car instead of her. He would have ensured she’d been taking care of herself so she wouldn’t have been so tired she missed that stop sign.

  He flinched at the memory, shutting it down. He didn’t know what Saxon was going on about. He didn’t live in the past. He did all he could to forget it.

  “I’m tired of pretending my sister didn’t exist, Jake. I’m also tired of watching the man I consider my brother waste his life. Do you think this is what she would’ve wanted for yo
u? I know it isn’t; she’d want you to live for her and to find happiness.”

  Jake gave him a look of disbelief. “Are you really trying to tell me I should move on? Find someone else? She was your sister!”

  “Yes, and I loved her. I miss her. Every day. But I also know she was the most generous, kind-hearted, loving person on this earth, and this isn’t what she’d want for you. You need to live your life, Jake. For her if not for you. She lost her chance to live. You didn’t. Don’t fucking waste it, all right?”

  “And what about you?” Jake challenged. “When are you going to find a nice girl and settle down?”

  Saxon’s eyes widened, then he threw back his head and laughed. Around him people stilled, watching. It wasn’t often that anyone saw the club owner laugh. Especially not like this. Once he was just chuckling quietly, everyone starting to turn away.

  “Jesus, Jake. What about my life tells you that I’d want a nice girl? Fuck, I’d chew a nice girl up and spit her out. Just because I’m not getting married and settling down to have two point four children doesn’t mean I’m not living.”

  “But for me it does?”

  “Yeah.” Saxon sobered then slapped him on the shoulder. “Because you were made for that life, Jake. You’re supposed to have the wife, the kids, and the yard filled with way too many bikes. I’m the debauched uncle who gets them high on sugar, buys them way too many noisy, annoying toys, and tells them horror stories before bed.”

  He stood. “You get the sweet family with the white picket fence and yappy dog. I get whips, blindfolds, and naughty submissives. Sounds about right, doesn’t it?”