Page 28 of Moonlit Kisses

Martin’s eyes widen, and his eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck.”

I nod slowly. “Worth every penny, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can see her worth.” He glides his hand over the dashboard, like any man would caress a woman’s body. “Any room for negotiation?”

I tilt my head to the side. “A little.”

“Might have to run it past the wife. When would you need an answer?”

“I’m not in any rush. I contacted you first, like you asked. If you can’t take her off my hands, I’ll find another buyer. I’m not worried in the least. Talk to the wife. Bring her and the kids in to take a look, if you like,” I suggest.

We climb out of the car and head back toward the office, so I can shut up the workshop behind him. Molly’s sweeping the floor as we pass through. Martin’s eyes draw to her like a magnet to metal, making my hackles rise again. I guide him straight through, aiming to get him out of the door, but he stops.

“See ya, Molly. It was nice to meet you.” Deep divots bracket his mouth as he smiles at her.

She returns his dimples with her own as she responds. “Bye, Martin. Great to meet you, too.”

Once I get Martin out of the shop, I lock up and head back to Molly.

“Is he gonna buy the car?” She asks, her eyes wide and hopeful.

“He has to speak with his wife. It’s a lot of money to drop on a car that you don’t actually need. But if I were a betting man, I’d say he’ll buy the Sprint.” She claps excitedly. “I need to get changed for soccer. Are you coming with me, or do you want to come later?”

She pauses her sweeping; her face snapping up toward me. “You want me to come with you?”

I shrug. “Makes sense. I can drop you back here after the pub.”

She fidgets with the broom for a minute, and I wonder why the decision is so difficult. “Are you sure your friends would be happy if I come to the pub again? I feel like that’s possibly time for the boys since you don’t normally have women there.”

“You’re not a woman. You’re our cheer squad.”

Her shoulders drop, as does her face. With her eyes locked on her shoes, she takes a few moments. “I … uh … I’ll meet you at the field, if that’s okay. I probably won’t go to the pub after the game.”

I understand she’s allowed to make her own choices, and I’d never force her to do anything she didn’t want to, but I thought she enjoyed hanging out with the boys. “Have you got something else to do?”

She shakes her head, her delicate eyebrows drawing down low over her eyes. “No. I don’t have anything else to do. I’ll be there to cheer you guys on the sidelines. Don’t worry.” She gives me a forced smile and focuses back on the sweeping, basically dismissing me.

The disappointment is strong. I wanted her with me. I’ve been looking forward to it since last Monday night. I feel like a kid who’s been denied a play date with his best friend. I’ve grown used to her being at our games. Molly and I haven’t known each other all that long, but I enjoy her company and was hoping she felt the same.

I collect my bag and move into the bathroom to get changed. When I come out, Molly’s waiting at her desk, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you something.” She’s looking everywhere but at me, which is unusual for her.

“Sure. Ask away.”

She collects a piece of paper from her desk, holding it close to her body so I can’t see what’s on it. “I was wondering what you thought about an idea I had.” She turns the parchment around, allowing me to see what’s on the paper. The air leaves my lungs in a gush, and I step forward to study it more closely. I’m torn between keeping my eyes on the sketch she’s showing me and looking at her as she poses the question. “Do you think whoever buys the Sprint would like a framed sketch of it?”

“Are you serious?” She nods. “Fuck yeah! That’s an incredible piece of work, Molly.” I flick my eyes back up to her face. “Are you sure you want to give it away? You could sell this and earn some extra money.”

“Oh no, I could never sell my work. It’s notthatgood.” She gives a self-deprecating chuckle.

I scoff. “That’s bullshit. Your attention to detail and the fine lines are incredible. The shading that you do makes it appear almost like a photograph.”

Her cheeks flush and her dimples make a shallow appearance. “You think so?” She sounds uncertain and I’m not sure why. Surely, she can see how good her work is.

“Why don’t you bring it with you tonight and show Aaron? He’s got a pretty good eye for this stuff because he sells it in his café.” I check the time. “I’ve gotta go,” I tilt my head toward the paper, “bring it with you. See what he says.”

“Oh, uh, I’ll think about it.” She waves me away. “You’d better get going. I’ll see you at the field.”

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