Page 78 of No Offense

Then he pulled her toward him by the hand, gently, so that their lips—nothing else, only their lips—were touching across the desk. It started out as the sweetest kiss Molly had ever experienced, full of forgiveness and hope.

But the longer it lasted, the more desire crept in. He really was, Molly decided, the best kisser she’d ever met.And since this time they weren’t being interrupted by a knock or a cell phone ring, when he slid a hand around Molly’s waist to pull her closer, she didn’t mind leaning so dangerously near the pie that she almost put a knee in it—it was worth it, if she could feel more of this man who had the ability to melt her insides at his slightest touch.

Who knows how much more intimate things would have become between them if the door to his office hadn’t been flung open suddenly and a young girl’s voice hadn’t said, “Hi, Dad—Oh!”

Molly tore herself away from the sheriff and threw herself into a nearby office chair.

“Oh, Katie.” John sat down quickly behind his desk. “Is school out already?”

“It’s a half day.” Katie looked suspiciously from her father to Katie. “Teacher conferences. What were you two doing just now when I walked in?”

“Dance lesson,” Molly said, just as John said, “Kissing.”

Molly threw John a disbelieving look, but he only returned her glance with aSo, what?shrug.

“She’s going to have to know the truth sometime if we’re going to do this,” he said to Molly, who felt herself turning red. To Katie, he said casually, “Miss Montgomery and I are dating. And it’s polite to knock before you enter a room, Katie.”

Instead of looking horrified or bursting into tears or doing any of the things Molly most feared a teenage girl mightdo upon hearing her father was seeing a woman other than her mother, Katie Hartwell laughed and dropped into the visitor’s chair opposite Molly’s.

“Ha, I knew it,” she said, letting her legs dangle over the arm of the chair. “So where are we going for dinner?”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Molly

WELCOME TO SNAPPETTES MOTHER/DAUGHTER NIGHT!

Snappette Mothers Dancing with Their Snappette Daughters

–Admission $15–

–All proceeds go to support the Snappettes Dance Team–

Saturday Night @ 8 pm

Little Bridge High School Auditorium

–Go Snappers!–

Feeling nervous, Molly chose to save a row in the middle of the auditorium—not too close, but not too far back, either—for all the friends she had who’d bought tickets buthadn’t yet arrived. Draping the long scarf she’d worn—on which was printed images of books, of course—across the row so everyone would know the seats were taken, she selected the aisle seat for herself, so she could make a quick escape to the lobby or to the stage, just in case... well, just in case.

Molly had never before considered the importance of being able to make a quick escape from a theater—or of sitting with her back to the wall of a restaurant, and not the window or door. But these were all things that were becoming second nature to her now that she was in a relationship with a lawman.

She seemed to know more than half the people in the audience, and they recognized her, as well, waving to her as they sat down. Molly waved back. She was beginning to appreciate how nice it was to be the only children’s librarian in a small town—and the sheriff’s girlfriend.

“Scoot,” Henry said as he appeared at the end of the row holding two bags of popcorn. He had no appreciation of Molly’s role as the town’s only children’s librarian, or the sheriff’s girlfriend. “If you’re going to hog the aisle seat, you have to be prepared to move over for everyone else.”

Molly twisted in her seat so that Henry could move past her. “How crowded was it out in the lobby?” she asked anxiously.

“Packed.” Henry moved her scarf and plopped down into the seat beside her. “The whole town is here, practically.”

“Oh, God.” Molly took the bag he offered her and beganto shove the overly salted popcorn into her mouth. “What if he’s terrible?”

“You and Katie have been rehearsing with him for like what, twelve weeks?” Henry rolled his eyes. “He can’t possibly be terrible. And even if he is, isn’t that kind of the point? He’s the comic relief.”

“I don’t want him to be the comic relief! The girls and I want him to begood.”

“I’m glad you became a librarian, because you have no understanding of theater whatsoever.”