“And Molly helped you, didn’t she, even after you fired them both?” Henry shook his head.
This again? If anyone should have been able to understand Max’s actions, it was his uncle. “For the last time, I didn’t fire a puppy. You can’t fire a person, much less an animal, who’s not even on the payroll.”
Henry came to a stop outside the senior center’s gymnasium. “Molly’s a special girl, and her dog is pretty special too. You might want to reconsider.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but things have gotten rather—” Max looked away. More seniors filed past them as they lingered outside the gym. “—complicated.”
“You’ll figure things out.” Henry shrugged and charged through the door.
Wait. That was it? No words of wisdom or secret insights into how he’d managed to keep the aquarium up and running all this time?
Max joined his uncle on the far side of a volleyball net that had been strung across the middle of the gym. “Maybe we could figure things out together.”
“Enough about the aquarium.” Henry plopped into an empty wheelchair and pointed to another available one, right beside him. “Sit.”
Max looked at the chair and then back at his uncle. “But I don’t need a wheelchair. Shouldn’t I save that for someone who actually nee—”
He was cut off when something soft and squishy hit him in the face.
Max staggered backward and fell into the wheelchair. It rolled a few feet until he crashed into one of the posts holding up the volleyball net.
“Interference!” someone yelled.
A whistle blew, and Max looked up to see a woman looming over him with her hands on her hips. She wore a name tag that said BARBARA WALLACE, ACTIVITY DIRECTOR on it in large-print lettering, and she had a red balloon tucked under each arm.
“You just fouled,” she said. “Two more of those, and you’re out.”
A balloon whizzed past Max’s head. “I thought we were playing volleyball.”
“You are. Wheelchair balloon volleyball—five balloons in play at all times and none of them can touch the ground.” Barbara winked, threw a balloon in the air and lobbed it toward him. “Try to keep up.”
Max punched the balloon. It clipped the net before barely crossing to the other side. Wheelchairs crashed into one another like bumper cars, rubber tires squeaking against the gym floor. Balloons bobbed anywhere and everywhere.
Try to keep up.
Like everything else in Max’s new life, that might be easier said than done.
***
Molly managed to avoid Max for the following two days—not an easy task, considering he’d invaded her happy little corner of the island by moving in next door. She took Ursula out to play on the beach only when the Jeep was absent from his driveway. Luckily, she could hear Max riding the clutch from a mile away, so she usually had time to get inside before he pulled up to Henry’s home.
Although it wasn’t Henry’s home anymore. It officially belonged to Max now. He owned it, unlike Molly, who was practically a squatter in a beach house that still very much belonged to her clueless parents.
Not clueless for long.
SandFest started tomorrow. Tourists had been flocking to the island all morning, and Molly was so busy making coffee drinks that she’d barely had time to think about the fact that she’d almost kissed her nemesis.
Emphasis onalmost. Thank goodness Nate had stopped by for a prenatal seahorse visit and interrupted whatever terrible mistake she’d nearly made.
Molly flipped the lever for the frother on the espresso machine with a tad bit too much force. She wasn’t sure why she was still so angry at Max for his hasty denial when Nate had asked if she was back working at the aquarium. Maybe it was the looming sense of dread surrounding the impending arrival of her mom and dad. Or maybe being back at the turtle hospital had simply made her realize how much she missed her coveted mermaid gig. Who knew, really? But the second Max had answered Nate’s question with a firmno, something snapped inside her.
Molly had instantly been plunged straight back into reality instead of whatever hazy dream state she’d been lulled into by Max’s lopsided grin and the thrill of their turtle rescue. She’d somehow let herself get charmed intoholding handswith the man who’d fired her twice and wanted to tell her how to raise her puppy. She’d been temporarily blinded by the gentle way he’d treated the injured turtle, and yes, she might have been a tad bit distracted by his bare chest. At least she knew how he’d gotten in such great shape now—by carrying large ocean animals to and fro. Mystery solved.
Milk overflowed from the frother, and Molly jumped back to avoid getting burned.
“Everything okay over there?” Caroline called from the book section of the shop.
“I’ve got things completely under control,” Molly said, flipping various levers and knobs until the machine finally stopped hissing.