might be.” He grinned.
This smile was different from the one he’d given her when he’d first seen her. That one had been pleasant and welcoming, but more impersonal. This one was a thousand watts of male trouble in the making. She felt the heat clear down to her toes. She was sure that if she looked, she would see little puffs of smoke drifting out of her loafers.
“You realize if you even consider doing this you’re crazy, too,” she said.
“It won’t be the first time someone has called me that.” He took a bite of his burger and chewed. Molly told herself to stop staring, but she couldn’t seem to make her eyes behave. Some of her sadness and fear lifted. It was enough that he hadn’t flat-out refused her. No matter what, she would remember this brief time, and when reality got too ugly, she would pull out this memory to make her smile.
Sunlight filtered into the restaurant through the painted window. A sunbeam illuminated Dylan like a spotlight on a movie set. He was handsome enough to be the leading man, she thought, pleased that although he’d matured, he still looked as wonderful and perfect as ever. There was something very pleasant about spending a few hours in the presence of a good-looking man. It didn’t matter that they were physically mismatched or that she wasn’t even close to being his type. This wasn’t about wanting him in the way she had when she’d just been fourteen and deeply enamored with all things Dylan.
Aesthetically, he appealed to her. The dark hair, worn short—not even to his collar. Years before, it had touched his shoulders. She decided she liked the more conservative style better. His eyes were as she remembered, although there were a few faint lines in the corners. His mouth was firm, his jaw well shaped. The gold earring was gone. He’d filled out a little. From the hints of movement under his dress shirt and suit slacks, he was in the same great shape as before. He was still the most amazing man she’d ever met.
He had a confidence about him that spoke of his power. It was probably for the best that they didn’t go away together. After all, she doubted her hormones were any more controllable than they had been fourteen years earlier. The last thing she needed in her life was to deal with having a crush on him. It would be silly.
A voice in her head whispered that right now she could use a little silliness, but she ignored the words.
Maybe they could skip the trip and simply fall into bed together. A night of great sex would clear her sinuses for a month.
Molly picked up her drink and took another sip. What was wrong with her? She knew better than to wish for the moon. Men like Dylan Black were interested in women like her sister. They wanted leggy, slender females with model-perfect faces. She was not that.
Some people thought her wavy-curly hair was unusual, but she thought it was a pain, which is why she usually tied it back in a braid. Her hazel brown eyes were what she referred to as the color of “rain-washed mud.” She had a decent smile, even though her mouth was too small. Her nose was too big, but her ears were cute. Her skin was clear now—adolescence had not been good for her skin. Then there was the matter of those twenty pounds she’d been trying to lose since she was born. In a world of size-eight beauties, she was a frumpy size twelve.
“You’re looking fierce about something,” Dylan said.
“It’s not important.”
His good humor faded. “Are you in trouble, Molly? Are you on the run from something?”
She was, but not in the way he meant the question. Besides, she wasn’t about to explain about all that.
“If you’re asking if I’ve committed a felony, the answer is no,” she told him. “I am on the run, but only from myself. I haven’t done anything wrong.” And that was part of the problem, she thought. If only she had a few regrets about things she’d done, rather than wasting all her regret on what she’d never gotten around to doing. “I just wanted to get away.”
Which she was still going to do, regardless of what he said. She put down her margarita and leaned toward him. “Haven’t you ever felt the world closing in on you? It’s like no matter where you turn or what you do, there’s no escape. It feels like nothing is changing or is ever going to, yet the reality is that nothing is the same.” She shrugged. “I know I’m not making any sense.”
Dylan stared at her. “You would be surprised at how much sense you are making.”
“I just want to run away for a few days,” she continued. “A week or two, tops. I want a chance to clear my head, to think things through.” She gave him another half smile. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and figure out a way to be someone else.”
“Who would you want to be?”
“Anybody but me.”
“Why is it so bad being Molly Anderson?”
Ah, more questions she would not answer. “You’re going to have to trust me on that one, Dylan. It just is.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Molly thought about eating a French fry, but she really wasn’t hungry. It must be the nerves. Gee, if she kept this up for a few months, she might lose those twenty pounds.
“Your timing is interesting,” Dylan said, and leaned back in the booth. He picked up his bottle of beer and took a sip.
“In what way?” she asked.
“I’m wrestling with some difficult decisions myself. Mostly about my business.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I won’t bore you with the details, but for many reasons, I’m at a crossroads right now, too.”
His dark gaze was intense. She felt as if he were staring into her soul. She wanted to look away because she knew he wouldn’t find a whole lot there to impress him. She wished she were someone different, someone wonderful and interesting, so that a man like Dylan would want her. But she knew the truth. She was just Molly—bright but not brilliant, nice, sometimes funny. She wasn’t wildly attractive, or witty, or charming, or any of those things that usually drew men like him. She was, at best, ordinary.
If only she were beautiful, like Janet. Or skinny, again like Janet. She bit back a smile. If Janet were here, she would tease her sister about being way too annoying to love. Her humor faded as she thought about how wonderful her sister had been through all this. Molly was so grateful they’d finally come to terms with their relationship and that they were close.
“What did you have in mind for your adventure?” Dylan asked.
If Molly had been drinking at that moment, she would have spit across the table. As it was, she could only stare at him in wide-eyed shock. “Excuse me?”
“Your adventure.” He picked up the ring and held it out. “That’s why you’re here. What did you want to do?”
Had she suddenly lost her hearing, or had Dylan really asked that question? Was he serious about this?
Molly opened her mouth, then closed it. Her mind stayed blank. “You’re agreeing?”
“I’m considering. There’s a difference. I want to know what you had in mind.”
Molly shifted in her seat, torn between wild excitement and bone-numbing trepidation. It was one thing to think about an adventure with Dylan—fantasies were fun and safe. But this was real life. Was
