“Next year?” She frowned and shook her head. “Sorry, have I missed something here?”
“Hopefully. Hop in.”
They traveled around the marina, past the container port, and into the city end of Seaview Road. And as the Gino’s Pizzeria sign came into view, Jake pulled into a parking space several doors down and cut the engine.
He glanced Molly’s way, thinking how her new haircut suited her stunning bone structure. Was this her breakup bob because of him? Out with the old, in with the new?
Jake opened his door. “Shall we?”
The owner, an Italian woman named Luna, greeted them warmly as they walked inside. They sat in a booth adjacent to the bar, some guy crooning about getting misty-eyed over a girl playing softly in the background.
The aroma of Italian food wafted around them and as Jake ordered a margherita pizza and two piccolos of dry rosé, he noticed how Molly sat slightly forward in her chair. She seemed nervous, but he couldn’t tell why.
As he smiled across the table at her, she smoothed her hair away from her face and cast her gaze around the room.
“So, why the haircut?”
Molly sat back now and returned this smile while she waited for the server to pour their wine and leave. “I just felt like a change.”
“From me?”
“You flatter yourself.” She paused, the smile holding. “But, okay. Well, more from the associated drama that you’re infamous for.”
Jake swirled the wine in his glass and took a sip as candle wax dripped onto the table from a repurposed wine bottle. “Ah, the saga of Hazel Sinclair and Alexia Cunningham. Actually, I thought about the two of them a lot while I was in France.”
“And how was your internal narrator? Reliable?”
Jake chuckled. Along with the obvious, he’d missed that about Molly—her quick wit and slow smile. “Not entirely. Mind you, I had no idea about Alexia and her dealings at that stage.”
“So you’ve heard about that?”
“Yes, she wanted me to post bail.”
“And did you?”
“Hell no. Her father relented in the end.”
“She bailed, no pun intended, me up in a cafe recently. Wanted to apologize for her outburst at the office and went on to interrogate me about you and Ava. She’s been so very concerned for me, hon.”
Molly’s impression of Alexia was spot-on, and Jake failed to conceal his amusement. “I bet she has. Did you tell her to eff off?”
“Only in my head.”
“How did she know I’d seen Ava, anyway?”
“I’ve no idea.” She shrugged and slowly sipped her wine. “Maybe your mother told her.”
They sat in comfortable silence, Jake studying her in the candlelight. That flawless, pale skin, impressive bone structure, and full, kissable lips. If he let his imagination run just a little bit wilder, he’d almost be able to taste her.
As if she’d read his mind, Molly leaned forward and murmured, “You understand, don’t you… why I needed space?”
Noticing the server approached their table—pizza held aloft—Jake delayed his response.
“One margherita?”
“That’s us,” Jake said.
“Enjoy your meal.”
