Carolina Heart Read Online Free Page A

would be my guests.”
    “Well . . .”
    His heart beat faster. “Eleven, then? I’ll meet you by the front door.”
    “I . . .” Her breath rushed out in what might have been a laugh. “Sure, why not? Thanks.”
    He hardly knew what he said in reply. His blood pounded in his ears.
    He ended the call.
    Greg was watching him, forehead creased. “You’re taking your date to the aquarium?”
    Max pulled his mind from the memory of Cynthie’s laugh, her lips, her eyes. Her tattoo. “Her and her kids. She has kids.”
    “I worry about you, pal. You’re not going to score with a woman by taking her—and her kids—to look at a bunch of fish.”
    “You like fish.”
    “I’m an ichthyologist. It’s my job to like fish.”
    Max smiled. “It’s not any old trip to the aquarium. I’m giving them a behind-the-scenes tour.”
    “Yeah, because nothing says, ‘Have screaming sex with me’ like visiting the holding tanks. At least the regular exhibits would be dark.”
    “I’m not looking to drag her into the shadows and make out. We’re not in high school anymore.” She wouldn’t have anything to do with him in high school. “Anyway, her kids will be with us.”
    “How old are they?”
    He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything about her, really, this new, grown-up Cynthie with her open smile and guarded eyes. She was divorced. She worked as a waitress. And she still tangled him up inside like a pelican in fishing line.
    “Ten?” he hazarded. Hannah had looked about ten. He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
    Greg regarded him with pity. “If you believe that, you don’t know kids.”
    No, he didn’t.
    “Only child,” he reminded Greg. No brothers or sisters, no nieces or nephews.
    “Just make sure the kids don’t take over the conversation. Ask her about herself,” Greg suggested. “Women like that. They think you’re interested.”
    “I
am
interested,” Max said.
    “Yeah, okay.” Greg eyed him doubtfully. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
    Max rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension knotting there. “It’s a date. I’m sure I can figure it out,” he said.
    He hoped.
    *   *   *
    IT wasn’t a date, Cynthie told herself as she parked her aging minivan in the aquarium lot two days later. She flipped down the visor to check her hair in the driver’s-side mirror. A date was drinks or dinner or the movies, when a guy paid. This was more like a . . . well, like another field trip.
    Maybe she should offer to pay for their tickets?
    She met her gaze in the reflection. Her cheeks were awfully pink. And her eyes were shiny.
    Hannah bounced in the backseat. “Come on, Mom, what are you doing?”
    Good question. Cynthie knew better than to get all starry-eyed over a new guy. It never worked out. And every failure scraped away a little of her optimism along with a piece of her heart.
    Besides, she had sworn off guys. For the girls’ sake.
    She snapped the visor shut.
    Twelve-year-old Madison slumped in the passenger seat beside her, wearing earbuds and a neutral expression.
    Cynthie smiled at her brightly. “Ready to have fun?”
    “Are we going home?”
    Cynthie suppressed a sigh. Under the veil of hair and bored façade, Madison was a good kid, eager for approval, anxious for affection. Cynthie liked to think that her recent mouthiness was normal growing-up stuff, a sign of increasing confidence and independence. But sometimes she missed the little girl who used to cling to her. “Come on, Maddie. You used to love coming to the aquarium.”
    “Sure. When I was, like, nine.”
    “I’m nine,” Hannah said.
    Madison spared her little sister a glance. “Exactly.”
    Something was wrong. Even on her bad days, Madison was good with Hannah. “What’s the matter, baby?”
    “I just don’t understand why you brought us.”
    “Well, because Hannah is working on her aquarium report, and I thought it would be nice for us all to spend the day