Dear Aggie, there’s this guy I really like, but I sense that getting involved with him would be a bad idea. On the other hand he makes me feel the way no other man ever has. What should I do?
You should listen to the voice telling you it’s a bad idea and run, Molly thought. Sprint, don’t jog. Sprint fast in the opposite direction.
The past three years had all been about rebuilding her career and her confidence. She wasn’t about to do anything that might threaten that.
There were areas of the park where dogs were allowed off the lead at certain times of the day, and this was one of them, so she let Valentine off the lead and he bounded toward Brutus, greeting him with tail-wagging ecstasy.
She removed the cap from her water and took a few hasty swallows.
Had he seen her sitting? Did he think she’d been waiting, hoping to see him?
She wished now that she’d carried on running.
Her father was right. She was a hypocrite. If she’d been offering advice she would have warned women to stay away from him, or at least be wary, and here she was as eager to see him as Valentine was to see Brutus.
“Sorry I’m late.” His smile would have lit a dark night and she felt something flutter behind her ribs.
It was a good job she was excellent at resisting men, otherwise she’d be in trouble.
“What are you late for?” She managed to sound normal. Relaxed. But it was all for nothing because his smile told her he knew she’d been waiting. And hoping.
She was sure that a man like him was used to women waiting and hoping.
How many hearts had he broken? How many dreams had he shattered?
“I would have been here ten minutes ago but the line was longer than usual.”
“The line?”
“At the coffee shop. Since you refused to come with me for a coffee, I brought the drinks to you.”
She’d come to the conclusion long ago that there were two types of people in life. There was the type who saw an obstacle and gave up, and then there was the type like him—people who ignored the obstacle and simply found a different way to reach their goal.
“I don’t drink cappuccino.”
“Which is why I bought tea. You’re British, so you have to drink tea.” Still holding Brutus, he sat. “English Breakfast or Earl Grey? That I couldn’t figure out.”
“So which did you bring?”
“Both. I’m a man who likes to cover all bases.”
“Are you always this persistent?”
He smiled, untangling Brutus from the lead with his free hand. “Fortune does not favor those who give up at the first hurdle.”
“Old Chinese proverb?”
“All American. One of mine. Sit. I said sit.”
Molly raised her eyebrows. “Me or the dog?”
His eyes gleamed. “Both of you, but I’m guessing neither of you are going to listen. That’s how my day rolls.”
She didn’t sit, but she did smile. “What if I tell you I only drink peppermint?”
“Then I’m screwed.” He fed the lead under Brutus’s leg in an attempt to untangle it. “But you don’t seem to me to be a ‘peppermint’ type of woman. Maybe you don’t drink coffee, but you need your caffeine.”
“I do drink coffee. But not cappuccino. And I happen to love Earl Grey tea.”