New York, Actually (From Manhattan with Love 4)

He knew that however badly the guy had been hurt, she’d been hurt, too. For different reasons, maybe, but it didn’t take much to see that hurting people didn’t come naturally to Molly.

“I’ve never been in love either, Molly. No time. No inclination. You can relax.”

Still she looked unhappy. “I’m bad news, Daniel.”

“You’re the best news I’ve had in a long time. Think about it—for the first time ever, neither of us needs to worry about being in a relationship because we’re both immune. We’ve been inoculated by life. Now can we stop talking? The pizza will be here in a minute.” There was more he wanted to say, more he wanted to know about her, but he told himself that it could wait. Small steps. He turned to put his glass down and noticed the flowers. “Someone bought you flowers? I have a rival for your lack of affection?”

That made her laugh. “Are you jealous?”

“I think I might be. If you’re going to be bad, I want you to be exclusively bad with me.”

“Don’t you think you’re moving ahead a little fast?”

“I carried your sick dog and let you stay in my apartment without laying a finger on you. That qualifies as foreplay.”

She opened her mouth to say something but then her phone rang. She checked the number. “It’s the vet—”

“Take it.” He picked up his glass again and while she answered the call, he strolled to her bookshelves.

He’d once dated a woman who had books on her shelves designed to make a statement about her, and an entirely different set of books on her Kindle. He’d been fascinated that she felt she had to hide what she was really reading.

Molly’s selection was eclectic. There were a few biographies, cookbooks, a smattering of literature, crime and romance. Nothing that told him much.

One book caught his eye. Mate for Life.

Why did that title sound familiar?

He checked the author and saw the name Aggie, and then remembered Marsha talking about her book being a bestseller. Irritation rose inside him. The woman was everywhere. He couldn’t get away from her.

Presumably Molly had consulted it when she was trying to find the perfect guy, but why would a psychologist need help from an advice columnist? What could Aggie possibly teach her that she didn’t already know?

It was another indication of how desperate Molly must have felt and he didn’t understand it.

Who cared that she couldn’t fall in love? There were plenty of people who had fallen in love who would think she was lucky.

Molly ended the call. “I’m picking up Valentine tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good.” Daniel decided not to embarrass her by mentioning the book. “Is that the door? Sounds like our pizza.”

He paid and carried the box to the table.

“It smells good.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. “This is why I don’t often eat pizza. I find it hard to stop at just one slice.”

“So you’re a bad girl with self-control issues and a big appetite. The news gets better all the time. This is turning out to be the best first date I’ve ever had.”

“I bet you were the kind of kid who played with knives and climbed trees.”

“And fire.” He flipped open the box. “Don’t forget fire. Mostly caused by my sister who is a terrible cook. I loved doing anything that might risk injury.”

“Seems to me that you haven’t changed much.”

“Is that another subtle warning? You’re not going to injure me. So anytime you want to give in to the chemistry, lose control, rip my clothes off and use my body for your own gratification, go right ahead.” Pleased to see her smile, he chose a slice of pizza. “So I have a question. And it’s personal.”

She stopped smiling. “How personal? You want to know if I like olives on my pizza?”

“No. I want to know when you last had sex.”

“What?” She gave a shocked laugh. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”