by Lara Lacombe
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The red of his hair was evident even in the gray light streaming weakly through the glass. He was staring ahead, those soft green eyes of his unseeing as the wheels turned in his head.
He was so handsome. She’d thought so the first time she’d seen him, and time and familiarity had done nothing to erase that impression. Not for the first time, she wondered if she had been able to see into the future, would she still have gotten involved with Max? Was all this stress and worry and uncertainty worth the whirlwind fling?
As if in answer, she felt a fluttering deep inside as the baby moved. For an instant, she was filled with a sense of wonder as their unborn child kicked and stretched, exploring its world. Yes, she thought, as peace washed over her. She definitely hadn’t planned this, and she wasn’t sure what the future would hold. But now that her heart knew this little soul, she recognized that it could never be another way.
“Eight times,” Max muttered next to her. He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “I just realized, we’ve only seen each other eight times. Feels like I’ve known you for longer.”
“I know what you mean,” Molly replied softly. They’d packed a lot of experiences into each visit. Their time together had always been intense, their connection strong. Even from the very beginning they had clicked, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.
And now they were adding a third.
It was enough to make her head throb. Of course, the fall was likely the main reason for the dull pain currently vying for her attention. The sudden motions of the gondola had tossed her around like a rag doll, and something had smacked her forehead, right along her hairline.
“How’s your shoulder?” she asked, wanting a distraction.
“Eh.” It wasn’t much of a response, but she could tell he was uncomfortable.
“How’s your head?”
“It hurts,” she admitted.
Max reached for his phone. “Let me call the fire department again and see if I can get an update. You shouldn’t be sitting in the cold in your condition.”
Molly reached for him, grabbing his knee. He glanced at her in surprise.
“Please don’t tell them I’m pregnant. No one knows.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up. “No one? Not even your family?”
“You’re the first person I’ve told.”
Warmth flashed in his eyes. “I suppose I should be honored.”
“It’s only fair.” She gave him a small smile. “After all, this is your baby, too.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded. Then turned his attention to his phone, tapping on the screen to dial.
Molly glanced out the window, her eyes tracking the flight of a bird as it glided by. Max began to speak, but she tuned out the sound of his voice, letting her mind wander.
My life was simple once, she mused. Will it ever be that way again?
Chapter 3
Two years earlier...
“Max Hollick.” Molly repeated the name to herself as she walked up the trail to the private cabin he’d rented for the week.
“We were in Special Forces together,” her cousin Blaine Colton had told her earlier in the day. “He’s a good buddy of mine. Good man, too. Runs a charity for vets.”
“Wow,” she’d said, impressed. For him to offer such praise meant Max must really be something.
“Yeah. He doesn’t really take much time for himself, so this vacation is well deserved. Can you stop by and make sure he’s got everything he needs to relax?”
“No problem,” she’d replied. It was important to her that all guests of The Lodge were accommodated. But knowing Max was Blaine’s personal friend made her want to do everything in her power to ensure he enjoyed his stay. “Is there anything in particular he likes to drink? I can drop off a bottle when he checks in.”
Blaine had smiled at her. “That would be really cool of you. I know he likes brandy.” He rattled off a brand, which Molly jotted into her ever-present notebook. “But he’s not a huge drinker, so maybe just a small bottle?”
“I can do that,” she’d promised.
Which was how she found herself standing on the doorstep of the cabin, alcohol in hand. She rapped on the door, waited for him to answer. After several minutes passed with no response, she used her master key to let herself in. She could leave the brandy on a counter with a note welcoming him to The Lodge.
Molly glanced around as she moved through the living room of the cabin. Everything looked in order, without so much as a throw pillow out of place. The back wall of the cabin was mostly windows, designed to maximize the view for the guests. The glass was spotless, the afternoon sunlight streaming through to cast the room in shades of gold. It all looked wonderful, and she made a mental note to compliment the housekeeping staff on a job well done.
The living room flowed into the kitchen, the two spaces separated by a breakfast bar. Molly set the bottle of brandy on the counter, then withdrew a card and pen from her jacket pocket and began to write a short note.
Just as she put the pen to paper, the door to the bedroom opened. She turned reflexively to see a tall man with red hair and mesmerizing green eyes standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and the red-gold stubble on his cheeks and chin gave him a piratical air. He was handsome, the kind of man she’d take a second look at if she passed him on the street.
And he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.
“Whoa.” He drew up short but continued to rub his hair with a towel. “Um, can I help you?”
His voice was deep and smooth, the kind that belonged on the radio. Molly swallowed hard, trying to find the words to explain her presence.
But her brain failed her. “I knocked,” she blurted lamely. Against her better judgment, her eyes fixed on a droplet of water as it ran from his collarbone down his chest and over the hard, flat planes of his stomach to disappear into the cotton at his waist. He was muscled, but not overly so. It was exactly the type of body she found most attractive—fit, but not in an intimidating way.
One side of his mouth drew up in a lopsided grin. “I believe you.”
A dog trotted out of the bedroom, tail held high and tongue hanging out. He looked a bit like a yellow Labrador, but his ears and nose were black, and the fur along his back was dark. He came over to her and nosed her hand in a friendly manner, then plopped down at her feet and stared up at her curiously.
“Uh...” Molly inched back, feeling decidedly out of her element.
“That’s Furbert,” he said, nodding at the dog. “And I’m Max. Hold on a second.”
He disappeared back into the bedroom, leaving her alone with his pet. “My name is Molly Gilford,” she said loudly, hoping her voice carried into the other room. “I’m the director of guest services here at The Lodge, and I was checking in to deliver a welcome gift and to make sure you have everything you need for your stay.”
“Nice to meet you,” he called back, sounding a little muffled. “Sorry about before. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
Molly eyed Furbert, but he didn’t seem worried by her presence. She began to step toward the door, needing to leave the cabin before she expired from embarrassment.
“No, that’s my fault,” she called out, her face growing warm. “Blaine Colton asked me to stop by. He mentioned you two were friends.” And once Max related this little anecdote to Blaine, Molly was sure she’d never hear the end of it.
“Blaine’s one of the best.” His voice grew louder as he stepped back into the room, tugging a sweatshirt over his head. He caught sight of her as soon as the fabric cleared his face, and he lifted one eyebrow. “Leaving so soon?”
His question left her feeling even more flustered. “Well, yes. I mean, I have to get back to work. And everything seems to be in order here.” She made a show of
glancing around, then nodded. “It was nice to meet you.”
Max leaned against the doorjamb with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms folded across his chest, regarding her with an amused smile as she backed toward the door. Furbert stayed where he was, but cocked his head to the side as if she were some kind of puzzle he was trying to solve.
Almost there, she thought as she moved. Just a few more feet, and she could escape back to her office and pretend she hadn’t walked in on a nearly naked guest who just happened to be a friend of one of her cousins-turned-coworkers.
Though she had to admit, the view had been nice while it lasted.
“There is one thing you can do for me,” Max called out just before she reached the door.
Molly froze, feeling a jolt of alarm. But she pasted on a smile and pretended this situation was normal. “Of course. How can I help you?” she asked politely.
“Have dinner with me.”
Molly’s jaw dropped open. She felt as though the bottom had disappeared from beneath her feet, leaving her hanging in midair like that cartoon coyote. Any second now, she would begin to fall.
“I...” She swallowed hard, trying to moisten her dry mouth. “I hardly think that’s an appropriate question.”
He pushed away from the wall and walked toward her. No, she thought. Stalked was a better description. She stood in place, watching him as he approached. She felt like a bird, hypnotized by the green gaze of a cat as he drew near.
He stopped a few feet away. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s not. So let me try again.” He tilted his head to the side, offering her a smile that was charmingly boyish. “Will you please join me for dinner tonight?”
Molly smiled despite herself. His gaze was full of warmth, his eyes regarding her with such blatant interest it triggered a flock of butterflies in her stomach. “I can’t,” she said, disappointment casting a net over her nerves. Although there was no explicit company policy preventing employee-guest fraternization, she knew it was frowned upon.
He nodded in understanding. “I get it. Short notice. What about tomorrow night?”
Molly laughed at his deliberate obtuseness. “I’m the director of guest services,” she said.
He nodded. “So you mentioned.”
She shifted, feeling put on the spot. “You’re a guest.” At his blank look, she sighed. “It’s not advisable...”
Max waved away the excuse. He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What’s life without a little risk?”
He had a point. And it had been a long time since she’d been on a date. The Lodge was booked year-round, making it difficult for Molly to carve time out of her schedule for a personal life. Since she hadn’t met a man she wanted to get to know better, it was all too easy for her to focus on work.
“Don’t think of it as a date,” he advised.
“Then how should I think of it?” She was enjoying this flirty back-and-forth, maybe a little too much.
“A work function.”
“Ah, but I don’t usually have dinner with guests as part of my job.”
This logical statement did nothing to deter him. “So you’re saying I’m the first?”
She laughed. “I haven’t agreed yet.”
Amusement flashed in his green eyes. “Yet. That means you will.”
Molly’s resistance was fading in the face of his interest. In truth, she would like to have dinner with him. She just wasn’t sure it was a good idea.
“I’ll be a gentleman,” he promised, holding his hands up as if to demonstrate his innocence. “No funny business.”
Damn, she thought, shocking herself. It really had been too long since she’d received any male attention if she was disappointed by his promise of good behavior. I’ve got to get a life.
She bit her bottom lip. His gaze zeroed in on the gesture, heat flashing in his eyes.
Why wait?
“All right,” she said, deciding to throw caution to the wind. “Where would you like to meet? And what time?”
He smiled. “How does seven sound? And we can stay right here. That way you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing you with me outside of working hours.”
He was teasing her, but she did appreciate his discretion. Roaring Springs might be a tourist destination, but it was a small town at heart. Molly knew that as a grown adult, she had a right to a social life. But she also knew the town regulars, and her extended family, would waste no time commenting on her choices. She simply didn’t have the patience to deal with the gossip right now.
“Seven works for me,” she said. “What can I bring?”
Max tilted his head to the side. “A bottle of wine? If you’re comfortable with that.”
Molly nodded. “Red or white?”
He considered the question for a moment. “Red, I think.”
“Are you actually going to cook?” The thought made her smile. Max looked like the kind of man who could run a grill, but she had a hard time picturing him in the kitchen.
He threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. “Do you doubt my abilities?” He sounded serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. Furbert woofed softly, as if to vouch for his master’s culinary skills.
Molly shook her head. “I would never question your talents,” she said with mock seriousness. “I’m sure whatever you prepare will be wonderful.”
Max nodded solemnly. “I’m glad one of us thinks so.” He winked at her, then stepped in close.
Molly gasped at his sudden nearness. For a split second, she thought he was going in for a kiss. Then he reached past her, his hand landing on the doorknob.
He opened the door in one fluid motion. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said simply.
Molly nodded, relief and disappointment flooding her system in equal measure. “Later,” she replied softly. She took a deep breath, inhaling detergent, soap and warm male skin as she moved past him.
She set off down the path, feeling his eyes on her as she walked.
But she didn’t look back.
Four hours later...
Max dumped the last of the food from the take-out containers into serving dishes, then stuck them into the oven to keep warm. Furbert watched him as he wadded up the trash, stuffing it down into the can.
“What?” he asked the dog. “I can’t serve her out of the foil trays. That would be tacky.”
Furbert cocked his head to the side and barked in reply. It sounded accusatory to Max’s ears.
“No, I’m not going to tell her I cooked,” he said defensively. “But it’s not my fault if she assumes I did.”
The dog barked again, clearly unimpressed.
“Oh, whatever,” Max muttered. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Furbert jumped onto the couch and flopped down on the cushions with a sigh.
“We talked about this,” Max said. “Get down.”
Furbert flicked his tail once in acknowledgment of Max’s words, then closed his eyes.
“Brat.” But there was no heat in his voice. Max couldn’t bring himself to chastise the dog. Furbert was his constant companion, his best friend since he’d returned home from his last tour of duty.
Max had loved his life as a Green Beret. The men he’d worked with had been the best in the business, their training second to none. Every single one of them had been smart, professional and passionate about their work.
But Special Forces wasn’t just a job. It was a calling, an all-consuming lifestyle that required commitment and discipline. In return, the team had been his family. Max wouldn’t have hesitated to lay down his life to save any one of his brothers-in-arms, and he knew the feeling was mutual. The bonds forged among them all were unbreakable and thicker than any blood connection.
Or marriage vows.
Most of the guys weren’t
married. The few old-timers who were had managed to snag women who were former military brats. They knew the life, understood the sacrifices. There had been a few divorces during his tenure as an operative, but some of the guys actually made the whole marriage and family thing work.
Max had thought he was one of them. His wife, Beth, had seemed happy. In the beginning, she’d been determined to be the perfect military wife. She’d joined several social organizations for spouses, written him regularly when he was on tour and welcomed him home with gusto when he returned.
But at some point, things started to change. Max couldn’t quite put his finger on when things shifted between them, but gradually the stream of letters slowed to a trickle, and her welcome-home smile started to look a little strained.
Then the fights started. Arguments over stupid stuff, like not loading the dishwasher correctly. Beth nitpicked everything he touched, to the point Max felt like he couldn’t do anything right. And while part of him understood the spats were really a symptom of larger issues, the rest of him was simply relieved to go overseas again. He’d take people shooting at him over an unhappy wife any day.
He’d done a lot of thinking during that last tour. About the state of his life and where he wanted to end up twenty years from then. Being an operative was incredibly fulfilling, but it was a young man’s game. One day he’d wake up and discover he was too old to keep up with the physical demands of the job. His knees already ached in the morning, and he’d twisted his ankle more times than he could count. At some point, his physical limitations were going to be a liability to the team.
And what then? He wasn’t the type to sit behind a desk for the rest of his working life. Nor did he want to join the ranks of the military brass. Max knew he wanted to stay connected to the military, but he didn’t want to continue to wear the uniform.
The issue dogged his thoughts for the first several weeks of his tour. Until one day, the solution came trotting up on four legs.