Chapter 81: Back To Bed

-Molly’s POV-

I trudged up the stairs to my room, feeling as if I could sleep for years. It was as if all the sleep I had gotten earlier had meant nothing. I looked at my watch to see if I had time for a nap before dinner, only to find that I had less than twenty minutes to shower and get dressed.
I groaned and opened my bedroom door, already trying to think up plausible excuses as to why I would miss yet ANOTHER family meal.
“I just need sllleeeeepppp,” I whined out loud as I stepped into my room.
“Well then, you should have kept your ass in bed, huh?” Scott’s voice growled through my room, startling me into dropping my bags.
I put my hand on my chest and tried to catch my breath as I stared at him. He looked like something that had stepped out of a men’s magazine. A comfortable sweater was stretched over his chest and looked almost as soft as his skin. His jeans were painted on and showed off the thick muscles of his legs almost to perfection. The only thing that would have made this moment better was if he was naked.
A flush raced up my body as I openly ogled him. I had never been so quickly turned on, just staring at a man. But it had been way too long since I had felt his arms around me and his lips on my skin. Suddenly, I needed it RIGHT NOW.
I took a step toward him, unconsciously reaching for Scott, but he pushed my hands back to my side.
“Just what the hell did you think you were doing, young lady?” he demanded.
The angry tone of his voice was a dash of cold water on my suddenly out-of-control hormones.
I pulled out of his hands and glared at him. “Don’t get that tone of voice with me, Scott. You don’t get to boss me around.”
The word “anymore” hung in the air even though I didn’t actually say it. However, I could read it in the way that Scott stiffened and straightened away from me.
“You’re right... I can’t boss you around,” Scott agreed.
A slow grin began to break across his face that made no sense with the tension of the situation. Until he jerked his chin behind me, and I turned to see my mother standing there, her arms crossed over her chest and looking at me with disapproval.
“But she does,” Scott finished before sweeping out of the room, his head held high with victory.
I growled at his retreating form. He had definitely planned this much better than I had and knew all too well what my mother’s frown would do. Whenever she looked at me like that, I felt like a ten-year-old again, and I had just gotten caught raiding the cookie jar before dinner.
“Mom... listen... Becca needed me. She was upset and—”
Williamina held her hand up to stop the words from spewing from my mouth. “That’s enough excuses. You spent the night sick and were sick again this morning. You should have stayed in bed, resting. And even more than that, you should have TOLD me you weren’t feeling good!”
“But I’m feeling much better!” I insisted weakly. “I really am!”
“Then you’ll feel up to coming down for some dinner. The chef has done wonders with the leftover ham and bacon from this morning,” My mother asked, her voice deceptively pleasant.
At the mention of the ham and bacon, a ghost of the scent wafted through my mind, and my stomach lurched. Covering my mouth and stomach, I willed them to cooperate; so I didn’t lose what I had put in them.
Thankfully it listened this time, and I breathed a sigh of relief. That only lasted until I saw the smirk on my mother’s face.
“I didn’t think so. March your butt over to that bed, and do not get out of it again until you are thoroughly rested and manage to hold something down!” Williamina demanded firmly.
I groaned in frustration, trying to bite back the argument that I didn’t feel like having with her. I had been more than willing to head to bed earlier when I needed a nap, but I hated for my MOTHER to order me there like a little girl.
“Mom... honestly... I’m fine,” I tried one last time to be argumentative.
“There’s no point in arguing, sweetie,” my mother said, shaking her head. “Just get into your jammies, and I want your butt in the bed in 15 minutes.”
I sighed in defeat, my shoulders sagging. It’s possible I pouted as well, but I would never admit it. Without another word, Williamina swept out of the room and left me to do as she asked.
I stalked over to my dresser drawer and threw it open, jerking out one of my comfortable pajamas. As I changed, I grumbled and grumped the whole time. But once I got into bed, all my frustration melted away, and my eyes slowly closed.

-Scott-

I peeked in on Molly when I didn’t hear a sound coming from her bedroom. She was curled up in the middle of her bed, her lush lashes laid gently against her cheeks. Her delicately bowed lips were parted as she quietly snored, a sign of how exhausted she was. I was still annoyed at her for not taking care of herself. However, the sight of her so relaxed with her guard down made my heart melt.
She was a siren calling to me, and I was helpless to resist. I walked softly towards the bed and ran a finger gently down her cheek. I couldn’t help but touch her soft, warm skin. In her sleep, Molly murmured something and pressed her cheek further into my hand, her lips brushing against my palm. I bit my lip to keep the small groan in, not wanting to wake her.
She was obviously dreaming about something or someone, and my selfish heart wanted it to be me. Before I could give in to my urge to wake her up and be damned that I would be the only man she dreamed about, I pulled away and purposefully walked toward the door. I didn’t stop until I was downstairs and halfway to the dining room.
I took a moment and leaned against the wall, trying to settle down. My body was still buzzing from the feeling of Molly’s lips on my skin. My jeans had tightened so much that I wasn’t sure if I would ever get feeling in anything below the waist again.
Only when I managed to get some feeling back in my legs did I dare join the family in the dining room.
As soon as I entered, Williamina looked up from her plate. “How is she doing?”
“She’s sleeping soundly. As long as she rests, she should be good to go soon,” I told her as I sat down at the table.
“What’s going on?” my father asked.
“Molly has the flu,” I explained. “She started throwing up last night and this morning.”
Paul frowned as a dark emotion flashed across his face, but he didn’t say anything as he looked back down at his plate. He grunted disinterestedly and began eating once more.
I narrowed my eyes at him, annoyed by his lack of empathy toward Molly. Something was nagging at me, and I hated the thoughts that ran through my head. Everything Molly had said was coming back to me all at once. I tried to push it away... but the longer I looked at my father, who seemed pissed, the more I wondered if Paul really did hate Molly as much as she thought he did.
This brought up another annoying question. What the hell had happened to make him hate her so much?!