Page 33 of Love in the Lab (Delaneys in Love #2)

Chapter twenty-seven

Jonathan

She loves me.

I sit up slowly, careful not to disturb Molly, and slide off the bed to walk to the bathroom.

Then, I move to the kitchen to get coffee started.

I lean back against the kitchen counter and stare at the bright yellow sticky note on my black refrigerator.

I can’t see my own face, but I’m sure the grin there could only be described as goofy. But something’s missing.

I need to hear her say it.

I turn around and finish getting the coffee ready.

I open the refrigerator door to see what I can offer Molly for breakfast. Last time she was here, we had fruit pops, but I’m sure I can do better than that this morning.

She doesn’t like eggs , I remind myself.

I wonder if that would extend to French toast?

Pancakes are probably a safe bet. I’ve seen her eat pancakes.

A noise behind me catches my attention, and I spin to see Molly walk into the kitchen. I grin and emphatically close the refrigerator door so that the sticky note is on display.

Gesturing toward it, I ask, “Can you read this note for me, please?”

She shakes her head, a smile playing across her lips. “Good morning to you, too.”

I take one long step toward her and smack a kiss against her cheek. “Good morning. Now, please read this note?”

She smirks and stares at the note quietly.

“Out loud, Carrots!”

She giggles. “Ohhh. You didn’t say that.”

I throw up my hands. “Molly!”

She laughs and takes my hands in hers. Her hair is mussed, her clothes sleep-rumpled. Those deep blue eyes I love are bright. A soft smile lights her face as she holds my gaze. “I don’t need to read it because I have it memorized. It’s written on my heart. I love you, Jonathan.”

I pull her against my chest and wrap her in my arms, burying my face in her hair. After several minutes, I release her and tap my thumb underneath her chin to lift her face toward mine. “I love you, Molly.”

Her lips form a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. My heart sinks. “What?” I ask.

She shakes her head and drops her gaze to the floor. “Nothing. It’s just sweet of you to say.”

I frown. “You don’t believe me?” I flash back to the night last month when I left my dinner with Dr. Perron to unlock Molly’s apartment door. I don’t believe love’s meant for me , she said. Is that still true? Clearly, I need to up my sticky note game.

She hesitates before responding. “I believe you believe it’s true.”

I brush a strand of hair off her forehead and cup her face in my hands. “That’s because it is true,” I insist. “Look at me.” I wait until she reluctantly meets my eyes. “You. Are. Extremely. Lovable.”

Between each word, I press a soft kiss on a different part of her face—first her forehead, then each cheek, and finally the tip of her nose. The last one makes her smile.

“Okay,” she says.

“That’s right, okay. Never argue with me when I’m trying to tell you how amazing you are.”

Another small smile. Each one feels like a victory. “Noted. Now, I need to get home.”

“Noooo!” I pull her into another hug and tighten my arms. “At least stay for breakfast.”

“I will, but then I need to go. I didn’t plan to stay over, and I don’t have anything with me.”

“I’m sure I have an extra toothbrush.”

She’s grinning now. “Jonathan.”

I grin back at her. “Molly.”

She shakes her head in exasperation. “I need a shower and to change my clothes.”

Oh, really? I raise my eyebrows with a smirk, then open my mouth to respond. Before I can say anything, she claps her hand over my mouth. “That was not an invitation.” The glare she shoots me lights up my whole body.

After breakfast, Molly heads out. I putter around the apartment, straightening up and throwing away empty candy packages from last night.

Feeling restless, I stretch out on the couch and check my phone.

I have a new email from Dr. Perron. The guy’s relentless.

He quoted me an attractive salary and promised a large research team with state-of-the-art equipment.

All that costs money, and he hasn’t said where the funding is coming from.

That makes me uneasy. If the grant is coming from the National Science Foundation or the Environmental Protection Agency, why wouldn’t he just say so? Why the cloak and dagger?

The primary attraction of the position when I started talking to Dr. Perron was avoiding Molly. My priority is the exact opposite now.

I don’t know. The extra money would be nice. A principal investigator position looks good on a CV. Honestly, though, I’m happy piloting boats and wading through bayous for a living.

Dr. Perron is pushing me for an answer. The position would start in the new year. I keep putting him off, especially since we’ve been so busy with the hurricane data from the gliders.

The data show everything Molly hoped. In addition to water temperature and pH, the gliders collected data on the water turbidity—that is, how cloudy the water is—and changes in salinity, which can all affect the possibility of red tide outbreaks.

The manuscript we uploaded to EarthArXiv just before Halloween included the real-time information in addition to the results of Molly’s data model. I’ve never been prouder to be involved with a research project before.

I navigate to the preprint server site on my phone and take a peek at our article. What the —

There are a ton of comments on our preprint already. We’re trending—well, at least among other coastal environmental scientists.

I text Molly.

Jonathan:

We’re going viral

Molly:

***

Jonathan:

[laughing emoji] The preprint’s blowing up on the site