Page 56 of Sucker For You
Still, if an admission would have complicated things between them, wasn’t it also true that his. . . liking. . . her—God, dancing around this attraction like he was an embarrassed, needy teenager, instead of an adult who could manage an honest conversation; what the hell was wrong with him?—would make their fraud easier to perpetrate for the immigration interviewer?
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
“They’ll like you because you’re a science nerd like Erin,” he went on, determined to help her understand. “Don’t be fooled by Adrian’s cool, either. He’s just as weird as the rest of us.”
Again, slowly, Isabel nodded.
Just as slowly, silence resettled between them. But it wasn’t an empty silence.I like you.If he hadn’t spoken aloud, the truth was here in his body and his brain, in his smile. As for their kiss? That was with them, too. The rasp in Isabel’s throat, her lips parting for him. . .
He risked another look at her.
She was already staring straight at him, and startledsideways into the passenger window. She fumbled with her seat belt, then with Baby’s recalcitrant door handle. “Sorry, I. . . I need to register at the institute before MORI’s front desk closes for the day. I need to start investigating its octopus research practices—”
“Wait.” Wes’s words shot out before he could wrangle them back. “Will you come with me to see Erin and Adrian during my time here in Monterey? Will you meet them?”
Halfway between her seat and the pavement, Isabel hesitated. Her fingers fisted on nothing.
“Please,” he added, instead of something worse. “I want you to come. But only ifyouwant to.”
“I. . .”
She was going to refuse.
“Yes,” and she was gone, rushing into MORI with her naked hands twisting.
His flash of triumph lasted exactly as long as that observation.
Damn.
He had to get her a ring.Soon. Joking aside, a bargain market cereal toy wouldn’t cut it. Not when her neurologist ex-fiancé—Dr. Chase Meyer Jr., with his fancy degree and fancy car, his prestigious job and his condo in San Francisco—had foisted a halo of diamonds on her. The center stones and setting on that ring were probably worth more than a down payment for theNauti Lass.
But the degree, car, job, and condo didn’t change the fact that Chase was an asshole.
Yes, he was a rich asshole, and Wes was scanning coupons at grocery stores, but:this isn’t a competition.
A cereal-box toy was a prize. Not Isabel.
Plus, she’d agreed to meet his noisy, nosy family.
From her, that was. . .something.
He followed her into the institute.
“We’re always glad to have more hands. Especially with the summer student interns headed back to class soon.” Brianne Nichols, the Monterey Oceanic Research Institute’s interim facilities manager, covered a Sunday yawn. She shifted her Stanley cup off a clipboard and slid an application form across her desk to Isabel. “You missed our most recent volunteer orientation. You can join the next one in late September, though. Fill in this paperwork and we’ll get you processed. You’re available to start on Monday?”
“Yes.” Isabel uncapped a pen.
“Your background check might take a little longer than that to clear. But MORI’s short-staffed, so—”
“A background check?” She stalled on the form’s address line.
“It’s because MORI receives government funding. Plus: security. You’re Canadian, aren’t you? But you won’t need a visa for a volunteer role. The background check shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Yes. And. . . no, the check won’t be an issue.” She wrote in the address for Chase’s condo; MORI’s escaped octopus was at the bungalow. Besides, San Francisco was legally still her place of residence in the United States.
That condo was also the address listed on the marriage license she’d filed with Chase earlier this summer.
In her pocket, her phone remained still and muted. She didn’t need to check her missed calls and texts to know that their number had continued to multiply over the afternoon, though—and,despite the quiet, a new skitter of anxiety whisked up her neck. But she redirected her attention to MORI’s volunteer paperwork.
