A small group of customers walked into the shop, and Molly greeted them as they made their way toward the book section.
“And what might those reasons be?” Max said quietly. To his surprise, he genuinely wanted to know.
All his adult life, the women he’d dated had complained about the same thing—he was too absorbed in his work to care about anything else. Too analytical, too logical.
The accusations weren’t without merit. Max liked things to be a certain orderly, predictable way. And he had no interest in meaningless frivolity—great for his career and field of study for a time, but it didn’t make him the most desirable social companion. Max knew this about himself.
But Molly was like a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. And damned if he wasn’t beginning to enjoy poring over the pieces.
“Things with my parents are a little touchy, that’s all,” Molly said, slipping her apron back on and tying it at her waist with a jaunty bow.
“And yet the reason you want to have lunch at a restaurant with an outdoor seating area is so you can bring this little monster, isn’t it?” He cast a pointed glance at Ursula, sitting at his feet with one paw placed gently on the tip of his dress shoes. “Even though your dad clearly isn’t fond of dogs.”
“She has to come along. I’m her emotional support human.” Molly squirted way too much dishwashing liquid into the blender and flipped on the faucet. Bubbles rose to comical heights in the sink. “I told you that already.”
“Yes, you did,” Max said, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was the other way around. MollyneededUrsula. He only wished he knew why.
Among other things that intrigued him about the mermaid next door.
As ever, Molly was tight-lipped on the matter. She scrubbed aggressively at the blender while soap suds wafted all around her. Ursula darted behind the counter to snap at the bubbles.
“I should go.” Max had a million things to do at the aquarium if he was going to take off for the afternoon, most notably checking on Crush and Silver. He reached into his pocket for his wallet and placed a ten-dollar bill and one of his business cards with his cell phone number listed on it on the counter. “Just text me and let me know what time to pick you up for lunch.”
He headed for the door.
“Wait a minute,” Molly called after him.
Max turned and arched a brow. “Yes?”
She batted away at the soap bubbles floating in front of her face. “You’re not actuallygoing.”
Max shrugged. “Of course I am. I told your parents I would be there. It would be rude not to show up.”
“Max, you cannot come out to lunch with me and my family. You just can’t. Do you want them to think we’re a couple?” She laughed as if it was the most preposterous idea she’d ever heard.
Max felt his jaw clench. “They already do. Do you really want to have to explain that we’re not, on top of everything else?”
From what he could tell, Molly hadn’t told her mom and dad she’d lost her job or that she now worked at Turtle Books. It had also appeared as if Ursula’s very existence had caught them somewhat off guard, not to mention the puppy’s place of prominence in their daughter’s life. There were more lies floating around this place than there were soapsuds.
“Of course I don’t.” Molly let her gaze linger on his dress shirt and his glasses before flitting to his business card. His name was styled in classic black typeface—DR. MAX MILLER. “Believe me, you would be my parents’ dream boyfriend.”
But not yours.Message received.
“It’s one lunch. Consider it my penance for firing you.” His lips twitched into a grin. “Twice.”
“Aha! So you admit you basically fired me twice. I knew it.” Molly’s eyes sparkled.
Max shrugged. He didn’t quite trust himself to say anything else. He’d already gone against every shred of common sense he possessed and committed to what was sure to be the most awkward lunch in the history of oceanfront dining. He didn’t want to know what might come next.
“Okay, then. You can come,” she said, as if she were doing him a favor instead of the other way around.
“It’s a date.” Max winked, just to see if he could make her blush.
Sure enough, her porcelain face went as pink as the mermaid highlights in her hair. “You mean a fake date.”
Did he, though?
Did either of them?