When I knock on Molly's door, the person who greets me is nothing at all like the person I expected.

Molly's eyes are red-rimmed—I'm not sure if it's from sleep deprivation or crying. There's toothpaste on her chin, and a stain of unknown origin smeared across her T-shirt. I avert my eyes and pretend like it's not there.

Sonny's sitting behind her like a perfect gentleman among the pot soil-speckled carpet.

"Wow. You weren't kidding," I say, when she opens the screen door to let me in.

A forlorn sigh seeps past her lips. "I wish I were."

A wave of guilt slams into me. "I'm sorry, I should have asked if you still wanted to go. I understand if you'd rather—"

"No, I definitely want to!" she says before I can finish the sentence. "Getting Sonny out of the house will do us both good. I don't know what got into him last night."

She leads me through the front room and to the kitchen table. It's small and round and only has two chairs, and is tucked inside an alcove overlooking the backyard. A green hose is tangled across the lawn alongside two bottles that look like shampoo and conditioner.

She really did give Sonny a bath.

Sonny follows us and plops down next to my chair. I give him a scratch behind his flowery-scented ears before diving into the bags of food. "Maybe it's because he didn't feel good? He's in a new place and Val isn't here. Poor guy probably didn't know what to do."

Molly's expression falls as she drops into the seat across from me. "I didn't even think of that. Now I feel even worse." Her gaze drifts to Sonny, and a visible swallow moves down her throat. "I should probably get him more treats, but I think I'll stay away from duck jerky."

"That's probably a good idea." I set several styrofoam containers on the table. "I didn't know what you were in the mood for, so I got a few different things."

When Molly lifts one of the lids, a smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Waffles with strawberries and whipped cream?"

I open another container and a plume of steam whooshes out and rises above the table. "If you're not into that, there's country omelets with gravy, avocado toast, sausage and bacon, and loaded hash browns."

She gives me a wide-eyed stare. "It's so much. You didn't have to do all this."

I shrug. "You deserve it. You've had a rough night. "

Molly's quiet for a beat. And then, "Thank you. For everything. It's really sweet of you to help me out."

"You're welcome."

We chat throughout breakfast, mostly about her work and some funny stories from the station. After we clean up what's left of our take-out, she grabs the shampoo and conditioner from outside and hits the shower. When she emerges from her bedroom half an hour later, she's a completely different person. Her eyes are no longer red, but clear and blue, and the faint scent of honeysuckle lingers whenever she moves. She's wearing shorts and a tank top,her long blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, the ends skimming the middle of her back.

While I grab Sonny's leash, Molly slips on her sandals and we head out to my truck. "There's no back seat. Where's Sonny going to sit?" she asks when I open the passenger door.

"In between us. You okay with that?"

A moment of uncertainty flashes across her features. "Um. Sure."

Sonny hops inside and Molly follows. Once she's buckled, I shut the door, slide into the driver's seat, and grab my sunglasses. "There's an extra pair of shades in the glove box if you want them."

Molly shakes her head. "I'm good. I like to feel the sun on my face."

We're quiet as I pull out of the driveway and make our way through the neighborhood. The houses here are small, but every yard is well-maintained with colorful flower gardens and low-growing palms. A warm breeze sails in through the open windows, stirring the loose hair around Molly's face.

I try not to stare. "Do you go to the beach often?"

"Not anymore." Her eyes are fixed out the passenger window. "I used to all the time, back when my mom was alive. It just hasn't felt the same."

"Are you sure you want to go now? We can take him somewhere else, if you'd rather."

Molly faces me and cocks her head to look past Sonny. He's panting, his tongue dangling like a mud flap past his lips. "No, this is good. Willa Mae always says it's time for me to start doing things again."

A twinge of heartbreak unfurls in my chest. I turn back to the road. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I agree with your neighbor. I see all sorts of tragedy at work. Things I can never unsee. It's not easy to lose someone, but I don't think they'd want us to stop living on account of it."

When I glance back at her, she's watching me with soft eyes. "I'm trying. Baby steps, you know?"

I ruffle Sonny's head and change the subject. "Well, this guy is excited to show his favorite spot. Isn't that right, boy?"

A tiny smile inches across Molly's face. "Oh, he is, is he? And how do you know that?"

"Because he told me." I lean closer toward Sonny and pretend to listen. "I'm sorry, what's that? You think Molly should take you deep sea fishing? I don't know, buddy. I'm not sure if she's the fishing type."

When I arch my eyebrows in question, her smile transforms into a grin. "I've never been fishing before."

My chin promptly drops. "Wait a minute. You live in Southern Florida, home to some of the most impressive ecosystems in the world, and you've never been fishing? Tell me you're not serious."

Her sun-freckled shoulders rise in a shrug. "I'm serious. I've never even been on a boat."

"What? No." I stare like she's sprouted a second head. "How is that even possible?"

"I don't know. We just never got around to it."

I shake my head and turn back to the road. "Unbelievable."

Sonny plops down on the seat and lays his head in Molly's lap. When I steal a quick glance, Molly's eyes are as round as my fist. Tentatively, she rests her hand on the back of Sonny's neck.

"There's a lot of things I haven't done," she continues. "Willa Mae's always making fun of me."

"Tell me some of them."

She thinks for a moment. "I've never watched the sun come up."

I laugh. "Don't you start work in the early morning?"

"Well, yeah. But I've never taken the time to intentionally watch it rise—or set, now that I think about it," she says with a tinge of wonder. "I've never seen the Harry Potter movies, or watched a football game. I've never had a hangover, or owned a credit card." There's a pause. "And I've never been dancing."

"What about prom?"

She shakes her head. "Didn't go."

"You're blowing my mind right now. You know that, don't you?"

"What can I say? I'm an enigma."

I glance at her over the rim of my glasses. "You're a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, wrapped in an enigma."

Molly's giggle fills my truck.

I turn away from the touristy part of town and head toward the causeway. The beach on the other side is calm and shallow, where dogs can roam around unleashed and splash through the ocean. A picture-perfect skyline stands proudly in the distance, underneath a cloudless blue sky. When I slow down to pay the toll, Sonny lifts his head from Molly's lap.

"You know where we are, don't you, boy?" I wrap my arm around him and pat him on the side.

Since it's still early, there aren't many beachgoers. I turn into a parking space and kill the engine. "You ready to do this?" I ask.

She gives me a single nod. "Ready."

In between us, Sonny fidgets with excitement. I hook the leash to his collar and rub the side of his face. "Hold your horses, you're almost free."

When Sonny's all set, I open the door and he jumps out after me. Molly meets us around the back. We cross the parking lot, and once our soles touch the sand, I release Sonny's leash, and he makes a mad dash toward the ocean.

Molly glances at me with wide eyes. "How do you trust him not to run away?"

"He's a good boy," I tell her. "Aside from the usual puppy antics, I've never seen him misbehave."

She snorts. "After last night, he probably thinks I'm insane."

"Not insane, but maybe nervous? Dogs are surprisingly sensitive to human emotions." I pause. "I'm sorry you had a bad night."

She gives me a hopeful look. "It's okay. It can't get much worse, right?"

"I'll have a talk with him," I tease as Sonny dives into the choppy water.

The day is beautiful. Nothing but sun and a comfortable breeze. "Look over there." I point toward a boat with a brightly-colored parachute attached. "They're about to go parasailing."

We watch as the boat shoots forward in the water, sending the sail into the air. A man dangles his feet from the seat underneath.

"I bet you've been parasailing, huh?" Molly asks.

"Many times. I love anything to do with the water—parasailing, scuba diving, airboating through the everglades. I want to do it all while I'm still young enough to enjoy it."

A small smile plays on her lips. "You can still enjoy those things when you're older. You know what they say—old age waits for you."

My brows scrunch together as we kick through the sand. "I've never heard that before."

She shrugs a shoulder. "It's from an old song my mom used to listen to. It's called Vienna. I used to think Vienna was a lady, but it's a metaphor for old age. Mom said it's about embracing time, and living life to the fullest."

Listening to her talk about her mother brings an unexpected lump to my throat. "It sounds like a nice song."

"It's one of my favorites," she says, studying my face. "My mom listened to all kinds of music. And if the radio wasn't on, she was singing. Our house was always filled with noise. Sometimes it drove me crazy, but now I really miss it. It's weird how quiet it gets."

"Growing up with so many siblings, I never knew quiet either. Even the firehouse is loud. The first time I experienced silence was when I moved into my apartment. It can be nice."

"It can be. But it can also be lonely. I'm lucky to have Willa Mae next door."

"Your neighbor sounds like a gem."

"She is. She literally has no filter. I don't know where I'd be without her."

I nudge my elbow into hers. "And now you have Val and Sonny, too."

An emotion I can't place flashes in her eyes. "Yeah, I guess."

By the time we reach Sonny, he's up to his chest in salt water, his mouth chomping at every wave.

Molly laughs. "He really does love it. I've never seen a dog smile like him before."

"Sonny's expressions give him away. He's like an open book. If my apartment allowed pets, I'd have snatched him up in a heartbeat."

"Can I tell you something?" she says, a scandalous tone to her voice. "I've never been an animal person."

I feign surprise. "You don't say."

"It's true!" A gust of wind blows the loose hairs around her face, and she tucks them behind her ears. "When I found out I was keeping Sonny—I have to admit—I was pretty nervous."

"Were you not around him much before Val's accident?"

When I look at her, Molly's chewing on her lower lip. "You can say that."

She'd better get used to having him around. When she and Val get married, Sonny's part of the package. There's no getting around that.

I muster up the most encouraging smile I can. "Give him a chance. He'll grow on you."

Molly nods, her gaze slowly meeting mine. "I will, but only because I trust you."

And there's something about the way she says it; the sincerity in her voice, the innocent look in her eyes. It hits me like a ton of bricks—in the best possible way—and a fist of unease balls in my chest.

Because what kind of jerk falls for his cousin's fiance?

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