Page 12 of Love in the Lab (Delaneys in Love #2)

Chapter ten

Jonathan

T o sum up my day of fieldwork yesterday on the boat with Molly:

One: I almost kissed her.

Two: She almost let me kiss her but didn’t.

Three: She told me something personal and vulnerable, which is actually better than a kiss.

Four: She got kind of mad about my response to her personal sharing, which isn’t great. I have an idea to make it up to her. Technically it’s her turn to play a prank on me, but what I have planned isn’t really a prank.

I arrive at the lab early, well before anyone else will be there.

I need a couple of trips out to my truck to bring everything in.

I’m pleased to find that my estimations were correct that the surface of Molly’s cubicle desk can fit five large vases.

I fill each vase about half full with water and add little packets of flower food.

Then come the lilies. I bought dozens of them—close to a hundred.

Lilies are supposed to symbolize humility, sincerity, and adoration, a perfect choice to say I’m sorry , and also kind of hint that I’d like to be more than coworkers and more than friends.

I’m embracing my crush now. The biggest obstacle before was that Molly seemed to hate me.

After yesterday on the boat and in the water, I no longer believe that to be true.

The attraction is there, for sure. I’m pretty sure she feels the same pull that I do.

Given what she shared about needing to be laser-focused on her work, I’d guess that dating falls into the “distraction” category.

Ergo, she’s fighting her attraction to me because she thinks I’ll be a distraction.

I fully intend to be a distraction to Molly Delaney. I also intend to show her that she can do well at work and have a life outside it. Not because I think I know what she needs better than she does, but because she’s too afraid to even try.

I arrange the lilies in the vases myself. When I finish, Molly’s desk is covered in vases filled with beautiful pink-and-white stargazer lilies. It’s quite a spectacle. As a finishing touch, I add a note to the vase closest to her desk chair. I write simply, From your secret admirer .

When I finish arranging everything, I leave. I head to the parking lot, get in my truck, and buy myself some breakfast down the street. I don’t come back until I know most of our coworkers will be there.

When I arrive at work for the second time today, a current of excitement reverberates through the lab.

I hide a grin as I walk to my cubicle. “What’s going on?” I ask one of the grad assistants.

“Dr. Delaney got a flower delivery! Huge vases covering her desk.”

I play dumb. “Oh? Who from? Does she have a boyfriend?”

The grad assistant claps her hands with glee. “I don’t think so. The card says they’re from a secret admirer!”

I raise my eyebrows. “Wow. Lucky her. What a mystery.”

She sighs dreamily. “Yeah, it’s so romantic!”

I barely contain my laughter as I hazard a glance toward Molly’s cubicle. A small crowd of women surround her desk, Molly standing in the middle. I can’t see her face, so I don’t know yet if my plan is a massive success or a dismal failure.

One woman shifts to the right, revealing Molly’s face.

She’s smiling. She’s clasping her hands in front of her, and the corners of her eyes look pinched, but she’s smiling.

She lifts her head and catches sight of me.

She shakes her head slowly as if to say, I can’t believe you did this .

I wink in response, and she blushes. Her smile turns shy, and she bites her lip.

My body feels so weightless I’m almost floating. As much as Molly’s scowls lure me in, her smiles will keep me hooked. No question.

Dr. Gantt comes out of her office and claps her hands while walking toward Molly. “Okay, everyone. Exciting morning, but let’s get to work.”

The crowd disperses, some to cubicles and others to the lab. I’m still rooted next to my cubicle, so when Dr. Gantt finishes admiring the flowers and turns her head, her perceptive eyes are aimed directly at me.

She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows. I suddenly feel like I’m five years old and just got caught with frosting-smudged lips after the last cupcake went missing at my sister’s birthday party. I swipe at my mouth and duck into my desk chair.

The morning is busy. I process the water samples we took out in the Gulf yesterday and make plans for Glider Four’s next mission. Molly’s working on her own stuff, so we don’t interact.

At lunch, I step outside for some fresh air.

Because I’m so often in the field, the days I’m in the lab can feel stifling.

Getting outside during my breaks helps refresh my brain.

Around the back of the building is a small grassy alcove with a bench right in the shade.

It’s my respite on lab days, and it’s where I’m heading now.

I sit on the bench just as Molly comes around the corner of the building.

“Hey!” I call, my surprise evident in the lilt of my voice.

Molly does a half wave. “I didn’t know this was back here.”

A grin takes over my face. “Did you follow me?”

Instead of answering, Molly says, “I have an embarrassingly obnoxious display of flowers on my desk.”

My smile widens as I scoot over and gesture for her to join me on the bench. “Do you now?”

“Yep.” She sits, farther away from me than I would prefer, but closer than I would have expected.

She tilts her face toward me, and I study her expression.

She’s not mad. She’s holding back a smile—I see it dancing in her eyes.

A feeling of triumph moves into my chest. She likes the flowers! I did something right!

“Huh. How about that.”

She shakes her head. “Nothing else to say?”

Emboldened, I stretch my arm across the back of the bench. It doesn’t quite touch her shoulders until she leans back. The contact creates a buzz that travels up my arm and right out of my mouth.

“I have three things to say, actually. First, I’m sorry. Second, you’re welcome. And third…” I pause here, making sure her eyes are on mine. “I had a really great time with you yesterday.”

“Working? You had a great time working with me?”

“And playing.” I shrug. “We did both, right?”

She nods thoughtfully. “We did. What are you sorry for?”

My smile falls, and my shoulders tense. “I don’t like the way I reacted to you sharing about your ADHD. It’s none of my business how you manage your life. I shouldn’t have acted like I know better than you how your own brain works. I’m sorry.”

Molly looks stunned. “Apology accepted.”

My shoulders relax. “Thanks. I can be a little … relentless once I’ve made up my mind about something.” I laugh. “Just ask my sister.”

Molly smiles. “What did you do to your sister?”

“Well, it’s not so much what I did to her as what she’s witnessed over the years.

When I was a kid, I watched the movie Twister and became obsessed.

I knew then and there that I wanted to be a scientist, but, like, a cool scientist like Bill and Jo.

I like water more than weather, though, so that set my course.

You can see how it worked out. I still consider Twister my favorite movie. ”

“My favorite movie is from my childhood, too. Anne of Green Gables . The Canadian version from the eighties.”

I shake my head. “I haven’t heard of that one.”

Molly puffs out a breath. “Really? It’s so good.”

“I’ll have to watch it sometime.”

“Yeah, right.” She nudges me with her elbow. “Probably not your thing.”

We’ll see about that. “You don’t know anything about what might or might not be my thing.”

“Except action movies, hot wings, playing pranks, boats, swimming, root beer, folk rock, and…” She gives me a knowing look. “...avoiding phone calls from your father.”

Something in my chest loosens, warmth radiating through me. She noticed all those things about me? My body craves more points of contact with hers. I reach my arm forward and tug gently on a strand of hair that has escaped from her ponytail. “Show-off.”

Suddenly, Molly gasps. “I know who you remind me of! Gilbert Blythe.”

“Gilbert…?” I repeat blankly.

“Gilbert Blythe,” she reiterates, “from Anne of Green Gables . Ooh, I bet if I had red hair, you would call me Carrots, too.”

I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about, but her half-scowl, half-smile is everything. I shrug. “Okay.”

She shakes her head. “Anyway, I need to get back to work.” She stands, and I immediately mourn the loss of her body heat on my arm. She hesitates before turning to walk away. “Jonathan?” she says, her voice soft.

I meet her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

Her expression is serene—her eyelids languid, her cheeks the same pink as her lips. Not as beautiful as you , I think. What I say is, “You’re welcome.”

I google Gilbert Blythe later, and yeah, I see the resemblance. I also see that this Gilbert character has quite a few fandoms dedicated to him and his good looks, so I’ll take it. That’s a win in my book.

That night I’m cleaning up after dinner when my phone rings. It’s Tamara.

“Can’t you just text me like a normal person?” I ask when I accept the call.

“No. You can hide too much in texts. I need to hear the tone of your voice, so I know what you’re thinking.”

I grimace. “Creepy, Tams.”

“Are you coming home for Christmas?” My sister is not one to beat around the bush.

“I don’t know yet.” I’m still trying to figure out how to get out of the whole thing. I flop onto the couch with a soft grunt and close my eyes.

I hear her frustrated sigh clearly over the phone. “Dad doesn’t want to get married without you.”

“Then he shouldn’t get married,” I mutter.

“Well, he might not if you can’t stop being a brat. This isn’t about you. This isn’t about Mom. Dad and Sharon love each other and want to get married.”

I don’t say anything. I know Tamara is making sense, and I know I’m acting childish. I’m not sure how to turn it off.

“Jonny,” she continues in a gentler tone.

“You are sweet and charming and thoughtful and way too personable. You’re good at your job and responsible and smart.

You are a good man. But you have this emotional block when it comes to Dad.

Frankly, you’re a jerk to him. He notices, and it breaks his heart. ”

Guilt constricts my chest like a vise around a tomato. She’s right. I know she’s right. My sister is always right. “I hear you. Is scolding me the only reason you called?”

“No. Tell me about this woman.”

I freeze. “What woman?”

“The coworker you got so flustered about the last time we talked. What’s going on with her?”

“Nothing,” I answer truthfully, because as much as I wish there was something going on with Molly, she’s not there yet.

“Ah ha! So you know exactly who I’m talking about. What’s her name? What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have a plan. It’s … complicated. Molly’s my coworker, and she kind of hates me.” Actually, I’m not sure how true that last part is anymore.

“But you like Molly?”

Like is probably an understatement. I’m almost obsessed with her, desperate for any chance she might give me. “Yeah, I like her.”

Tamara squeals. “Ooh, this is so exciting! It’s about time you found someone. You’re like one of those creepy old bachelors at this point.”

I hold the phone away in front of me and stare at it, shaking my head. Bringing the phone back to my ear, I say, “I’m only thirty, and I’ve dated plenty, including at least two serious relationships.”

“I didn’t like either of them.”

“You don’t know if you like Molly, either. You don’t know anything about her.”

She hums. “I know she’s giving you a hard time, so I like her already.”

“Even so, it doesn’t bode well for me actually dating her, does it?”

“She’ll come around. Like I said, you’re a good man.” Tamara sounds a lot more confident than I feel, though I appreciate her words. My interaction with Molly today was encouraging, so we’ll see.

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to tell me about her?”

I clear my throat. “Actually, I do.” I grin. “Do you have five hours?”