Page 42 of A Line in the Sand
Max nodded. “Absolutely.”
He walked over to Uncle Henry to let him know he was taking a break. There were a few sighs of disappointment from the pancake seekers in Max’s line when they realized he was leaving, which made exactly zero sense. He’d never been much of a cook.
“Where to?” he asked Molly.
“Follow me,” she said and turned toward a small side staircase off the pier that led down to the beach.
Ursula squirmed in Molly’s arms the minute her feet hit the sand. She let the puppy down and turned to face Max. Her gaze flitted to the words on his apron and she seemed to forget what she’d brought him down here to say.
“Sorry.” She shook her head as her lips curved into a grin. “That apron might be the dorkiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I already told you.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s true.”
The pink swell of her bottom lip slipped between her teeth and she shook her head. “And I told you that you don’t have to say those things. There’s no one around to hear them.”
“Not true. You and I are here.” He jerked his head toward Ursula tiptoeing in circles below. Her faint paw prints disappeared almost as quickly as they formed in the damp sand. “Your needy little puppy is here too. That makes three of us.”
Molly looked at him for a long moment, until her gaze softened.
“That’s just it—there is no us.” She swallowed, eyes sparkling. “Is there?”
Ursula wiggled her way between them, nose pressed into the damp ground. She stopped a few paces from Max’s feet and started digging frantically, spraying his legs with sand.
Molly blew out a breath. “Never mind. Clearly there isn’t.”
“Clearly,” Max echoed, but the word sounded hollow, even to his own ears.
Thwack.A fresh wave of dug up sand pelted his shin.
Molly looked down at her dog and back up at Max. She arched an eyebrow, as if challenging him to say something about Ursula’s rapidly growing hole.
He crossed his arms, refusing to take the bait, even though it pained him not to mention the digging. Max’s jaw clenched harder with every grain of sand that flew in his direction. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
A group of teenage girls in bathing suits walked past them, lingering beneath the shade of the pier. Max glanced over at them, hoping they might catch the hint and move on. They promptly collapsed into giggles. Max heard the click of a camera phone before they dashed away.
Molly frowned. “What was that all about?”
“No clue.” Max didn’t know, nor did he care. He just wanted Ursula to stop digging and the busybody residents of Turtle Beach to leave them alone long enough to have a conversation about the real feelings that seemed to be swirling between them.
Not that Max quite understood what those feelings were, exactly. But looking at the situation from a logical standpoint, he couldn’t deny that something was indeed simmering beneath the surface. Never mind that his rational side also told him he’d be a fool to pursue anything real with Molly. Logic could be a real pain sometimes.
“Listen, about yesterday,” he said, but before he could finish his sentence, another passerby—a woman walking a yappy little dog—stumbled to a halt to openly stare at them.
Max was going to lose it. Were his pancakes reallythatgood? Had they made him a local celebrity?
“Good morning.” He forced a smile at both human and dog.
The woman blushed lobster-red. She gave her dog’s leash a gentle tug and moved on.
Max’s gaze swiveled back towards Molly. He shook his head. “Where were we?”
Ursula backed away from the hole she was digging, barked a few times, and then dove back in.
“We were talking about yesterday.” Molly held up a hand. “Let me get this out before we get interrupted again, Pancake King.”
Max nodded silently, far more obedient than her puppy, who was still acting like she’d never heard the wordnoin her life.
“Thank you for what you did at lunch. It meant a lot to me…more than I can say, really. But you don’t have to keep it up. Truly. I can’t keep lying to my family. You and I are even now.”
