Chapter 11
HAVE THE TIME
Dean parked his SUV and got up just as Molly was climbing out of her car.
Shit. He wasn’t sure what to expect but it wasn’t this. He liked tall women, but this was candy on a stick. Cinnamon candy at that.
Molly was strutting toward him in a navy blue cotton dress that went to her calves and did nothing to hide the body that should be on a runway. She had the same nude pumps on her feet as she did earlier in the week when he’d seen her.
The dress was sleeveless, her arms were toned. What should have been a simple cotton dress looked anything but on her.
Her hair was down and straight as a board, parted to one side like it’d been the other night, tucked behind one ear.
“You look great,” he said.
“Thanks.” Her little gray purse was over her chest and one shoulder, her fingers almost twisting the strap again. “You look nice.”
He had jeans on, a light purple button-down shirt with white pinstripes, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. It was one of the few shirts he could find that fit around his arms.
“Sometimes I forget what it’s like to have buttons on my shirt.”
She laughed. “You look good in T-shirts too.”
He’d been told that a lot in his life. Well, not until he went to college. Adult life was much different from his childhood when he was the tall, lanky brainy kid who hadn’t grown into his features.
He put some weight on, his height matched the size of his hands and feet, his rugged facial features didn’t look so rough when he was thin and going through puberty.
“Then I guess we can make some people jealous looking at us,” he said with a smirk on his face, his hand on her lower back and ushering her in while he held the door.
“No sports car for you,” she said. “Or maybe I thought that before I found out about your son.”
He laughed. “I don’t need a flashy car to make up for any shortcomings.”
“You probably have very few of them.”
His eyes moved over her again. “I’d say the same of you.”
She snorted and then put her hand in front of her mouth. It was an odd move, almost a vulnerable one, yet nothing about her came off that way upon a glance.
“Have you been here before?” he asked. It was a restaurant not that far from him. A nightclub also, but a fraction of the size of his place.
“No. I’m not one for going out at night with the girls. Or alone. I’d ask if you do, but with Pulse, you don’t need to. Unless you want to check out the competition.”
“Competition is good, not bad,” he said. “But the truth is, my place is bigger.” He leaned down close to her ear. “And better.”
“Your place?” she asked.
“Figure of speech.” He’d slipped and said that before to others and no one had called him out on it but her. He’d have to watch it, as she was a lot more intelligent and fast on her feet than the type he normally spent time with.
He tried to ask himself why that was—that he went out with women who had more in common with a Baywatch babe—and realized it was because he never wanted anyone to guess how smart he was. He figured if he kept to one-night stands and ditzes, there was less of a risk of that happening.
But dating women like that is how he ended up a single father.
And though he wouldn’t trade it for anything, he was ready to maybe not be so single anymore.
They were seated, menus in front of them. “I should have asked what you like to eat, but you’ve had more pub food at my place so I figured you could get that here too if you want.”
“I’m not fussy about food. And anyone I work with will second that with the things I put together.”
“The Brussels sprouts cookies?”
“I thought they tasted fine. I’m going to get the grilled salmon. And not sure why I have to announce what I’m getting. I’m nervous and shouldn’t be.
“No need to be nervous,” he said. “I won’t do anything to make you want to crawl out the bathroom window.”
“Thank God because I’m not sure I could in this dress though it’s stretchy enough.”
He tried not to think of that. Or her body under it.
But he was a man and one who hadn’t been with a woman in a long time.
Who the hell had the time?
They placed their orders and just chatted.
“Have you had any other interesting food combinations lately?”
“Nah,” she said waving her hand. “Just been testing products for shelf life. I don’t need to go into that when we are about to eat.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Trust me, everything is fresh at Pulse. Marcus would have it no other way.”
“You talk like you’re scared of him.”
He laughed, then winked. “Not likely.”
His burger and her salad were brought out fifteen minutes later. As much as he wished it was slower, he knew she had to return to work. Then he’d get his son.
She put her napkin on her lap, picked her fork up and sliced it through the teriyaki salmon, then popped it in her mouth.
Her eyes closed, she hummed low in her throat and he felt his dick stir in his pants. “This is wonderful. Here,” she said, moving her plate over. “I know you want to try it. I can see it in your eyes.”
“It’s not the only thing I want to try,” he said before he could stop the words he used to say to women years ago slipping out.
Her face flushed, but she only smiled back. He might have been pushing it saying that but wouldn’t regret it either.
Especially when the check came, and her eyes were all relaxed. She’d had a good time, he could see.
He’d had a better time than he normally did on a date.
Then he tried to remember the last time he actually brought a woman on a date and realized it was too depressing a thought.
When they left and were in the parking lot, he was damn well going to get his mouth on hers, even if it was only a peck.
He was having a hard time feeling her out. There was something about her the last two times they’d been together that gave off mixed signals.
The first time he’d seen her in that black dress, he thought for sure she was someone who picked men up and spit them out when they pissed her off. Proof of her walking out on the blind date that had been going so poorly.
Which was another thing. Why was she on a blind date? Someone who looked like her should have no problem getting their own date. Didn’t he ask her out when he hadn’t asked another woman in a long time?
Even the dates he’d had in the past were from when he’d slept with someone and they wanted to get together again.
It was always the woman’s idea, not his.
He was fast to cut ties after a few weeks though.
Or the woman did because they couldn’t stand his schedule or his job.
The other women who flirted with him all night tended to wear thin too.
And those, he rarely saw again. It was more about just keeping on his game if the time came where he was ready to be with someone.
“If we were on a night date, I’d ask if you wanted coffee,” he said. “But you need to get to work, right?”
“Coffee sounds good,” she said. “We can get one quickly if you want to over there and sit outside to drink it. I’ve got time. I can take a longer lunch since I went in early.”
He wasn’t going to turn it down. It was just at the building in the next parking lot, so they walked over.
“I drink it by the potful most nights.”
“You don’t have a beer while you’re working?” she asked him, then opened the door when they got there.
“Not usually. I don’t want to make it a habit since I’m around it so much. Not that I’ve got an addictive personality or anything, but the truth is, I’d rather drink soda, water, seltzer, or coffee. I switch over to coffee later in the night most times.”
“I’d say to help keep you up, but honestly, I have coffee before I go to bed each night and it helps me sleep, not stay awake.”
“I bet you’ve researched that too, haven’t you?”
“I have,” she said. “There are a lot of reasons it helps you doze off. Caffeine suppresses a neurotransmitter that helps you sleep but once it wears off you have a buildup of a receptor that overcomes your body all at once making you sleepy.”
“Adenosine,” he said without thinking. Damn it.
“Impressive,” she said. “I bet you get some really smart people in the bar talking about things like this and you probably remember everything.”
“Not everything,” he said.
They got to the counter, looked at the menu. “I suppose you like your coffee dark and strong enough to grow hair on your chest. You don’t have hair on your chest, do you?”
He laughed. He just couldn’t help it. “Yes, that’s how I drink my coffee, yet I haven’t seen that side effect yet.”
“Good. I don’t care for hairy chests.”
They placed their orders, her getting an espresso, him doing the same. “We have the same tastes.”
“I enjoy getting this out. It’s a treat.”
“Just like this lunch is.” If it sounded silly to him, he didn’t care.
“I had fun today.” They got their drinks and found a table to sit. “I wish it didn’t have to end, but I have to return to work today.
“Me too,” he said, almost surprised to hear himself say that. Did he really miss dating that much? Or was it nice to be with someone that he could actually have a conversation with who didn’t giggle over something silly or stupid?
“I’m hoping maybe the next time it won’t end with coffee.”
The way she was smirking at him was as if she was reading his mind.
“If you didn’t have to return to work, it wouldn’t have to today.”
She looked at her watch. “I lied. I have the afternoon off. Do you have the time?”
He threw his drink back. “Yep, I do.”