Page 91 of Moonlit Kisses

–molly–

A vibratingsound breaks my concentration on the order form I’m filling out. I peer around the office, trying to work out where the sound is coming from. It happens again and I remember I put my cell in the top drawer. I barely use the thing. It’s not like I have anyone contacting me on the regular. I pull it out and read the screen to find a message from Martin. My heart beats faster and my hands become clammy. I haven’t spoken to him since Max blurted out my history to Beth and Joanna.

Martin:Hi Molly. Beth and I were wondering if you would be free to come over for dinner on Saturday night?

I place the cell on the surface of the desk. Shit! I don’t know if I’m ready to spend time with everyone at the same time. It’s sort of been manageable one on one, not that it’s always been easy, and after the last time I saw Beth and Joanna, I’m a little embarrassed.

Martin:Sorry, I forgot. You can bring Max along too

Max told me Martin stopped by last week while I was atShelter. I don’t want to use Max as a crutch, but he’s been my rock through all of this. Does it make me weak that the offer is more appealing, knowing I can take Max with me? I’m normally independent and have no problem facing things head on, but for some reason, I’m struggling with coming to terms with my new family.

Martin:Beth reminded me to mention that the kids won’t be here. Holly is staying at a friend’s house for the weekend and Noah is going to camp. It’ll just be the four of us

Warm lips meet the crook of my neck and I automatically tip my head to the side to give Max the freedom to kiss me however he wants. He nuzzles his roughened cheek against my sensitive skin, sending electricity shooting through my body. “Hey, Dimples. I missed you.”

I chuckle. “I’ve been, like, fifty feet away from you.”

“It’s too fucking far,” he argues.

My phone lights up with another message.

Martin:Please say yes

Max moves around to face me. “Why does Martin want you to say yes?”

I unlock the phone and show Max the string of messages. He reads through them, then moves his eyes back up to me. “Do you wanna go?”

I drop my shoulders and blow out a breath. “I do and I don’t.”

“You want to talk it through? I can be a good sounding board.”

I prop my elbow on the desk and drop my chin into my hand. “You’re busy. Maybe after work.”

“I’ve finished and it’s almost closing time. How about I clean up and bring the car out ready for collection, then we can grab a bite to eat and talk this through?”

“Didn’t you want to work on the truck this afternoon?” Why am I trying to find excuses to put off this discussion?

“It’ll still be waiting for me tomorrow. This is important, Molly.”

“Okay. Thank you, that sounds good.” I force my lips to tilt up, but my attempt at a smile is half-hearted at best.

Max leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead, careful to not touch me with any other part of him because he’s filthy. My smile grows at his care for me. The longer I spend with him, the more I come to realize what a good man he is. He has a golden heart hidden beneath that mechanical tattoo.

* * *

“Max! Molly! It’s so good to see you. Come. Come. Let me find you a table.” Cristo greets us enthusiastically, coming out from behind the podium to hug us both.

“Hi, Cristo.” I say as he kisses my cheeks.

“We were walking by, deciding what to have for dinner and thought we’d stop in to see if you had a table,” Max explains. “We hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course. I’ll always have a table for family. Follow me.” He weaves his way through the tables toward the back corner of the restaurant to a private space, with us following diligently behind. “Here. This is my special table.” He winks at us. “Allow me to select your meals, I have something special.”

“Thank you, Cristo. You don’t need to go to any trouble for us.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Molly. I’ll bring some wine.” He pulls out my chair and I sit. Max positions his chair closer to mine and sits next to me instead of opposite, as I expected. His thigh presses against mine and he rests his arm on the back of my chair, his warmth soaking through my clothes and searing my skin.

“Thanks, Cristo.”

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