Chasing Marigolds

Chapter Seven

"Of course, she did," Mollie started, seeming to grab hold of herself, and smiled warmly at Tom. She shot a quick, knowing look at Marigold before placing the glasses she'd been holding on the table-top and sliding into one of the two remaining open chairs. Once settled, she extended her hand towards Tom's outstretched one. "Lovely to meet you, Tom."

It was strange, watching the charm she'd heard about endlessly from Mollie be put into action directly before her. Tom gave Mollie a wide, warm smile and shook her hand with what appeared to be a firm, steady grip. He was focused completely on Mollie and her reaction.

His gaze was laser-focused and unwavering. It was something that Marigold knew from experience was overwhelming when one was completely sober. When one was more than slightly in their cups, it had to be nothing short of devastating.

But Mollie held her cool far better than Marigold had. Even when he replied, "The pleasure is all mine" in that thick, heady voice of his.

God, is he for real?

Laughter, both his and Mollie's, told Marigold, once again, her thoughts hadn't been as silent as she hoped.

Wonderful.

"Does she always do this?"

His eyes crinkled in the most alluring way as he laughed. A genuine, whole hearted laugh that was both enticing and frustrating all at once. Especially knowing was fully at her expense.

Charming Bastard.

Mollie snorted, nodding her head as her own eyes filled with tears as she shook, laughing harder. "All the time. It's endearing, honestly."

"Piss off." Marigold felt her face growing warm and reached for her cider, burying her nose in the glass and taking several healthy swallows. She'd regret it later, she knew all too well, but damned if she cared right now. Anything to keep her mouth from going of and getting her in even more of a predicament than she already was in.

"Ah yes, there is the charm I know so well," Mollie teased before her attention returned to Tom. "So how do you know our dear Marigold?"

Marigold looked up at the two of them from beneath her lashes, instantly curious about what he would say. And, if she were being completely honest, how he would say it. She watched the way Tom's face took on faint blush. But try as she might she couldn't reason why he'd done so. Embarrassment, maybe, at the outlandish way they'd crashed into each other's lives. Gods, she was not nearly drunk enough for this.

"It's rather a funny story, actually," Tom started, leaning against the table. Marigold found herself watching Mollie's face as Tom spun the tale of their encounter in the shop. Surprise mixed with amusement and a slow understanding. Marigold knew there would be a demand for explanation once the evening was through. But bugger all if she knew just how she was going to explain it.

"How interesting," Mollie chimed in during a break in the story. "Marigold was just telling myself and few friends the same story, though she hadn't mentioned the gentleman in question was in fact you." Her eyes flicked towards Marigold and she was certain of the fate awaiting her once they were alone once more.

Set and match indeed.

"Because it didn't really matter now, did it?" Marigold countered, trying to ignore the heat flooding her face. She really shouldn't have had that last drink. Whatever sliver of control she'd had on her filter was damn near gone. Part of her feared just what would pour out of her mouth if Mollie kept pushing. And there was nothing Mollie seemed to enjoy more than to push.

Tom shrugged, flashing a warm smile towards her. "No, it doesn't."

Marigold fought to ignore the way the heat in her face intensified as she felt his gaze focus on her. She knew it was obvious from the smirk on Mollie's face and refused to make eye contact with Tom, not wanting to see the knowledge of it on his face as well. At least she'd stopped speaking her thoughts aloud, she prayed she had a least. The last thing she needed was to hand Mollie any more ammunition than she already had; she would use it against her without a doubt.

"It was certainly a memorable event," Tom continued, smiling broadly. "Risk of scarring notwithstanding." He flexed his bandaged hand. Marigold opened her mouth to apologize again for all of it but paused as she noted the glint of humor in Tom's eyes. He clearly wasn't angry with her and further apology would be overkill in the extreme.

She merely returned his warm smile with a small one of her own. "That's what make-up is for though, isn't it?"

Tom barked a laugh, his eyes sparkling. "Cheeky much?"

Mollie snorted, "Always. She practically runs off it."

"Oh thanks, Mols," Marigold shot back in a desperate attempt to regain her footing in the mess this encounter had become.

Her friend merely smiled, reaching across and patting Marigold lightly on the shoulder. "Aw, Mari darling, you know I love you."

Marigold rolled her eyes. "And I love you too, Mols, though sometimes I have absolutely no idea why."

"My charming personality and the color I bring to your life."

"Color is one way of putting it," Marigold joked back, trying to cover the snort of laughter she felt bubbling its way to the surface with little success. She could feel Tom's eyes on her and did her utmost to ignore the way his gaze made her stomach flutter. Though, she reasoned, it could just as easily be the drink causing it. "And you call me cheeky."

Mollie smirked. "Takes one to know one, my dear."

"And lord do I know it." She rolled her eyes dramatically before dissolving into a fit of giggles. God, that last cider had been a terrible mistake. She really was quite drunk. And definitely not making the best impression. It wasn't as if she set out to impress the man anyway. She hasn't even expected to see him again. Or at least not face to face.

Marigold closed her eyes, and groaned. Not quite the way she'd envisioned the night going. But at least it wasn't a repeat of that night in Uni. She'd let Mollie and the boy (because honestly he really had been, despite the fact he'd been nearly two years older than her) she'd been seeing talk her into a night of drink and dancing before the crush of finals settled in.

She'd only been able to piece together flashes of that night ever since. But what she could remember was horrifically embarrassing. She'd learned hard liquor was not a good bedfellow for her in more ways than one. Dancing on tabletops while screaming the lyrics to "I Will Survive" had been just the tip of the mortifying iceberg.

Thank God video phones hadn't really been a thing or she'd never have been able to show her face in London again. The security footage had been bad enough. Especially when someone decided it would be hilarious to share it around campus. Marigold had spent the better part of exams, and the week or so after slinking around campus praying to go unnoticed. Which worked about half the time. Usually. She groaned again.

"You alright?"

Blinking, Marigold turned to find Tom watching her, his brow furrowed.

She waved her hand nonchalantly, smiling. "I'm fine. Just thinking about something."

"About what? Whatever it wasn't couldn't have been pleasant judging your reaction."

Marigold sighed. "Just thinking I may have over done the cider tonight and reminiscing about another...Less than pleasant drinking experience at Uni."

Across the table, Mollie snorted into her wine glass before chuckling, "Oh god, I'd nearly forgotten!"

Tom's eyebrows waggled as he laughed. "Oh ho, now this I want to hear."

Marigold shook her head, feeling her face flush once again. She'd never been more grateful for dim lighting. "Sorry my lad, that story is strictly limited to close friends and above."

His blue eyes flashed and the grin on his face widened. "That sounds distinctly like a challenge."

"Does it?" She countered, not entirely sure how this conversation had gone completely off the rails, unable to stop herself. The hum of blood in her veins (and the alcohol, mustn't forget the alcohol the logical part of her brain chastened) dragged her steadily past any sense she'd still possessed.

She watched as his eyes sparked with something she wasn't quite able to place. "Oh, it most certain does. And I do love a good challenge."

"Do you?"