Do You Take This Daddy?. Katie Meyer
go inside.”
She hesitated. “I’m not going up to your room with you.”
He hadn’t expected she would. But he wasn’t ready to let her walk out of his life yet, either. “Mollie—”
“No, wait, I’ve been thinking. You said you want to get your mind off things while you’re here, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t mean I expect you to—”
She smacked him. “Get your mind out of the gutter. No, I was going to say, why don’t you let me show you around while you’re here, be your personal vacation guide?”
Was she serious? “What about your work, or whatever?” He didn’t know what she did, but she must have some kind of responsibilities.
“I’ve actually already got the week off from school and work.”
“School?” He’d thought she was in her midtwenties, just a bit younger than him.
She shrugged. “I take college classes at night, and I arranged my vacation hours at work to match up with the break between the fall and summer semesters. So I’ve got the time.” She blinked those big eyes at him. “I’m not suggesting anything, well, romantic—I’m not looking for a relationship, and I don’t do one-night stands. But I’d like to be your friend while you’re here. If you’re interested.”
Interested in spending a week in Paradise in the company of a beautiful woman? “I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”
* * *
Mollie sipped her coffee and checked the kitschy black-and-white cat clock hanging on her living room wall. It was almost nine o’clock; Noah should be there any minute. As if on cue, she heard a car pull into the driveway. Nerves flopping in her stomach, she quickly smeared on some tinted lip gloss. Makeup so wasn’t her thing, but after that kiss last night, soft lips seemed more of a priority than they had before. Not that she was planning to kiss him again. Still, better safe than sorry.
She opened the door before he could knock and was struck again by that feeling of awareness that had tickled her senses from the first time she saw him. It was a bit like the tingle before a lightning storm, a warning of the heat and power to come.
He was dressed casually, in a pair of cargo shorts and a gray army T-shirt, and had a bag from Sandcastle Bakery in his hand. “Ooh, breakfast?”
“If you consider a variety of sugary pastries breakfast, then yes. I had the cabdriver stop on the way here.”
“That’s the very best kind of breakfast. Let me get some plates.” She led him into her tiny kitchen and handed him the plates. “Do you want coffee or orange juice?”
“As a Florida tourist, I think I’m required to at least try the orange juice.”
“Good point.” She poured a glass for him, and then motioned to the back door. “We can eat on the patio.”
He reached the door before she did and started to open it, only to slam it closed again.
That was odd. “What are you doing?”
He swallowed hard. “This is going to sound crazy, but do you have bears around here?”
“What? No way. They see them over near Orlando and Ocala, but we don’t have bears on the island.” A thought occurred to her. “Wait, you haven’t been drinking again, have you?” If he had some kind of problem, she needed to know now.
“No, I’m telling you, there’s something out there in the bushes. Something big.”
Realization dawned. Oops.
“Yeah, about that...” She pushed past him and opened the door, letting out a whistle.
“Are you crazy?”
“Hey, I’m not the one seeing imaginary bears.” She pointed and he peered around her. Out of the bushes came her large, but not quite bear-sized, dog.
“Holy cow, what is that? And why does he only have three legs?”
“That’s Baby, and you be nice to him. He might be big, but he’s sensitive.”
Noah’s eyes widened. “He’s yours?”
“It’s more that I’m his. But don’t worry. He’s a total sweetie. He just looks intimidating, right, boy?” The massive dog trotted over on and sniffed the bakery bag.
“If I give him the donuts, will it keep him from eating me?” To his credit, Noah hadn’t retreated back into the house, but his color looked a bit pale.
“He’s not going to eat you. And he’s not allowed any donuts. He’s on a diet.”
“So you’re saying he’s hungry? Great. That’s just great.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re afraid of dogs.”
“That’s not a dog,” he protested. “Beagles are dogs. Cocker spaniels are dogs. That’s a—”
“Mastiff. An English mastiff, to be exact. And he wouldn’t hurt a fly, so stop acting like he’s the big bad wolf. You’re going to hurt his feelings.” She rubbed the big dog’s head and took the pastries from Noah. Immediately, the dog left him and followed her, nosing hopefully at the bag. “I said no. You already had your breakfast, and Cassie says if you don’t lose weight you’re going to end up with arthritis. Go lie down.”
Chastised, the oversize canine shambled off to lie in the grass. She put the bag on the bright blue picnic table and sat in one of the mismatched chairs. Noah cautiously joined her, keeping his attention on the now-snoozing beast. “So, what happened to his other leg? And who is Cassie, some kind of doggie-diet guru?”
“Cassie’s my boss. She’s a veterinarian. She and her father own the clinic I work at. As for Baby, a rescue group we work with brought him in when he was just a puppy. He’d been hit by a car over in Cocoa Beach and one of the volunteers found him. We fixed him up, and when no one claimed him I got to bring him home.”
“So you work at a veterinary clinic? Are you some kind of animal nurse or something?”
She finished the bite of donut she was chewing. “No, that would be Jillian. She’s the veterinary technician. I’m the receptionist. Oh, and I teach obedience classes on the weekends.”
“Is that what you always wanted to do, work with animals?”
“Not as a career, no. I do like the dog-training part of it—I don’t want to give that up. But working in an office, any office, for the rest of my life would suffocate me eventually.”
“Well, what are you going to school for?”
“I’m only going part-time, but I’m a photography major, much to my parents’ disappointment.” She grimaced. “They’re glad I finally went back to school, but they think I should do something practical, like accounting.”
“But that puts you right back in the office all day.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, so forget them. What do you want to do?”
Right this second, what she wanted to do was to lick the powdered sugar off his lips. But that probably wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “What I’d love to do is travel, take pictures, maybe work for a magazine. I want to make a name for myself as a nature photographer. But as my parents have repeatedly pointed out, art isn’t exactly a practical career choice.”
“Photography, huh? Can I see some of your pictures?”
She hesitated. She always felt so vulnerable, showing her work to a new person. And with him, for whatever reason, the nerves were multiplied.
“Please? You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”
If