Page 17 of A Line in the Sand

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Obviously.

Even so, Molly’s pulse kicked up a notch when Max’s blue eyes found hers.It’s just nerves. That’s all.She swallowed hard and waited for the begging to commence.

He studied her for a beat without saying a word—just long enough for Molly to begin to wonder if perhaps she’d miscalculated. Maybe he wasn’t going to ask her to come back to work after all.

Impossible.Turtle Beach was a small island, and Molly already knew plenty about how Max’s first day as the director of the aquarium had gone. It had been an unmitigated disaster, even before he’d seen the public display of support for her and Ursula.

Max needed her. She knew it, and now he knew it too.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” he finally said. “It wasn’t personal. I need you to know that.”

To Molly’s horror, she felt her bottom lip start to quiver.It sure felt personal to me.She wanted to say the words out loud, just as she wanted to explain to Max how much she loved the aquarium, how much she’d given up to come back to the island she adored and to build a life here.

But she couldn’t. If she did, the tears she’d been holding back all day might finally spill over, and that couldn’t happen. Crying wasnotpart of the plan.

Max looked down at Ursula, who’d just collapsed belly-up at his feet in a desperate bid for affection. “Also, I don’t hate dogs.”

“You just think they don’t belong in an aquarium. Or at bingo.” Molly gave him her best attempt at a saccharine smile. “Or at yoga.”

Max’s lips curved into a smug grin. Wait, why was he smiling?

“Been checking up on me, have you?” he asked.

Yes.

Molly licked her lips. They tasted like salty sea air and longing. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s a tiny island. Word gets around.”

“So I noticed.” He took a step closer and every nerve ending in Molly’s body seemed to go on high alert.

For a second, it was just the two of them again, clasping hands in the ocean. Nothing else mattered. Then Max’s gaze cut to one of the lobby windows overlooking the deck, where a group of senior citizens and dogs dressed as lobsters were spying on their conversation.

A tidal wave of embarrassment washed over Molly. She crossed her arms, a barrier.

Focus.

“If you wanted to send me a message, you could have talked to me instead of doing it with cupcakes and costumed dogs,” Max said. The muscle in his jaw ticked again. “Plus the one cat.”

Molly blinked. He might actually have just made a valid point.

Except where was all this willingness to chat when he’d up and fired her?

“You weren’t so eager to talk earlier this morning,” she countered.

“We’re here now.” He shrugged one muscular shoulder. “Let’s talk.”

Molly relaxed a little. Good, they were getting things back on track. “Sounds great. I’m ready.”

He nodded. “Me too.”

Their eyes locked again. The water in the bay swished gently against the shore. Seagrass swayed. The sound side of the island was so different from the beachfront, so calm. Soothing. Molly felt her defenses slipping slowly away.

How had things gotten so crazy between her and Max, anyway? It was silly, really.

Ursula, clearly fed up with not being the center of attention, pawed at Max’s shins. He bent down to scoop the puppy into his arms, and Molly melted just a little bit inside. Maybe he wasn’t such a dog hater after all.

“I forgive you,” she said.

Ursula licked the side of Max’s neck, and Molly stared at the place where her pink tongue made contact with his skin. Was shejealousof her dog?