of the desks, looking over the shoulder of Roy, one of the company’s graphic designers. Jerome, another graphic designer, sat at a companion computer, also working on the program. The two of them were typing away on the keyboard, inputting computer code at record speed.
Molly laughed at something Roy said, the sound as light and cheery as spring sunshine. Linc found himself smiling, and wanting to know what joke had coaxed such a nice sound from Molly.
At the same time an odd surge of something Linc refused to call jealousy rushed through him. He hadn’t been the one to make her laugh, or to bring that smile to her lips.
“How’s it going?”
Molly pivoted at the sound of his voice. “Linc.”
His pulse kicked up as the single syllable of his name rolled off her tongue, with that soft lilt of surprise. This was trouble—bad trouble. He’d come down here merely to check on their progress. Stop in, ask a couple questions and leave.
And already he found his gaze searching the room for another chair. A free space beside Molly.
Roy turned toward Linc. “Going great, Mr. Curtis,” he said. “We’re making good progress. Since you already had the preliminary design worked out, Molly is helping us come up with different modules within the software. I should have a working model within a few days. Nothing finished, mind you, but a rough idea for you to see.”
Linc nodded. Roy turned back to the computer, and to Molly. Linc knew that was his cue—he was free to go. He’d gotten what he came for, a status report.
Molly waved him over. “Do you want to come see?”
That was all it took. The steps he’d been about to take out the door became steps across the room to her side. He gestured toward the notebook beside her. “I take it you were able to understand my notes?”
Molly laughed. “I can read kindergarten writing, which is…creative, to say the least, when they’re learning to make letters. I can read yours.”
He grinned at her. “You’re comparing me to a kindergartener?”
She returned his smile and something he thought he’d been able to bury in the two months since he’d met her was resurrected. “If the handwriting fits.”
Roy cleared his throat. “Hey, Jerome. I think it’s about time for a coffee break, don’t you?”
Jerome grunted, and kept on working. Roy leaned over and smacked him on the shoulder. “Jerome, dude. Coffee.”
Jerome looked up. Looked at Roy, then his eyes widened, and he looked at Linc, then Molly. “Oh. Coffee. Yeah. I could really use a cup.”
The two men couldn’t have been more obvious if they’d hung up a billboard. They hurried out of the room, leaving Linc and Molly alone.
Molly had her attention buried in Linc’s notes, so she barely noticed the departure of the other men. She was still sitting on the edge of the desk, which made her floral print A-line skirt hike up just above her knees. She wore low heels and a short-sleeved pink shirt with a scooped neck. Conservative, but to Linc, who knew that underneath the elementary school teacher lurked a wild side, the outfit had the added edge of seeming to tease and tempt.
He shook his head. Thinking of that night wouldn’t do him any good. At all. “So,” he said, forcing himself to focus on the computer screen, “what direction were you thinking of going in?”
She put the notebook aside. “Well, I know my students really like exploration activities. Things that make them search for something, then learn about it. So we were thinking of having a find-the-animals game, sort of like the classic memory game, here.” She pointed at the screen, where some rudimentary icons had been placed on the home page. “And then, when they unearth, say, the koala bears in the trees, they get to move on to the next level, which is an interactive learn-about-koalas game.”
Linc nodded. “Great idea. A reward for winning the first game, one that encourages even more learning.”
“Yep. Sort of like
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