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Irritated by her casual dismissal, Sam frowned. “Why not?”

“Because, in a million years I wouldn’t say something like ‘we decided to explore our mutual interests.’ Geez, Sam, I’ve never decided to get involved in a relationship in my life.” She shook her head. “I’m more the jerk-open-the-door-and-run-on-in type. I hurtle into relationships. I don’t decide myself into them.”

He understood her point. Yet, one of the things that fascinated him about Molly was that he didn’t find her impulsiveness annoying. He’d known women he would have called impulsive, and for the most part, he’d found them flaky and irritating. But Molly seemed to have an energy, a certain vim—that made everything she did seem engaging and enticing. “What would you like to tell them?” Sam asked carefully.

Molly worried her lower lip between her teeth for a few seconds. “I don’t want to lie.”

“I can understand that.”

“But you also have to understand—I don’t know—I guess I’ll make it up as I go along.”

“May I assume, then, that you agree?” he asked quietly.

Molly hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. Standing, she extended her hand. “We have a deal, Mr. Reed.”

He folded her hand in his and took the opportunity to skim his thumb over the pulse in her wrist. “I think you’d better start calling me Sam.” He glanced at his watch. “And we’d better get moving. I don’t want to be late for this meeting.”

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