Not Just the Girl Next Door

by Stacy Connelly

  “That’s not what I meant. I got over Lilah a long time ago, but losing you, losing our friendship, Mollie, that’s not something I could ever get over.”

  It had been hard enough losing Patrick. In the years since his friend’s death, Mollie had come to mean as much—if not more—to Zeke. Seeming to read his mind, her expression softened. She stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm, her touch offering an understanding and absolution Zeke wasn’t sure he deserved.

  “We’re friends, Zeke,” she said, and he couldn’t resist taking her hand in his own and holding on to the promise of everything she was willing to offer. “Nothing could change that.”

  He’d believed that once, too. “I know you think that—”

  Annoyed, she snatched her hand away. “I don’t need you to tell me what I think or how I should feel. And I don’t need you to apologize for kissing me because I wanted you to kiss me, Zeke!”

  A bright blaze of color nearly obscured the freckles on her cheeks despite the bold words. But she’d always been braver than he or Patrick—or even Mollie herself—gave her credit for being. Bold and brave enough to state what she wanted and hold her head high as she demanded, “So the real question is, what do you want?”

  There was no question, no doubt as to what Zeke wanted. He wanted to kiss Mollie and more—much more. He wanted to pull her into his arms, the same way he had in the woods behind her house, and kiss her until she—no, until he was begging for more.

  But the desire rushing through his veins and the blood pounding in his ears wasn’t enough to drown out the echo of guilt. His jaw clenched tight, he ground out, “This isn’t about doing what I want. It’s about doing what’s right.”

  “And, of course, you get to be the one to decide that.”

  Zeke swore beneath his breath. “Do you think this is easy for me? I’ve spent too many years protecting you to stop now, even if that means protecting you from—”

  “Protecting me from what?” When he didn’t answer her demand, she seemed to come to her own conclusion. The fire in her eyes flamed brighter than her hair as her voice rose. “From myself? Is that what you think? That I’m not smart enough—not woman enough—to know my own mind? You really don’t know me, Zeke, if that’s how little you think of me!”

  That wasn’t what he thought at all, and as Mollie stormed off, Zeke called himself every name in the book for not having the courage to admit the truth he’d feared from the moment he heard Patrick was killed. That his friend’s silence and withdrawal on his last visit home were signs of something serious. That the soldier had been exhibiting classic signs of depression, and Zeke had missed it. Missed it not only as a doctor but as a friend.

  If he’d pressed Patrick harder, if he hadn’t been caught up in the drama around the upcoming wedding and Lilah’s suddenly cold feet... If he’d paid more attention to what was right in front of him, his friend might still be alive.

  * * *

  Ready to tear her own hair out, Mollie seriously thought she might be the one in need of a fire extinguisher as she stormed away from Zeke. With her fair skin, she had no doubt her face was going up in flames, and she only hoped the other guests gathered at the barbecue might attribute it to the afternoon heat.

  What would it take to get Zeke to see that she’d grown up? For him to stop treating her like a kid and to treat her like a woman? Despite her anger, she couldn’t help feeling exactly like a child, storming off in a snit when she didn’t get her way.

  I wanted you to kiss me, Zeke. What do you want?

  Mollie held back a groan as she stopped at one of the large coolers near the picnic tables. She stuck her arm elbow-deep into the icy water as she reached for a can of soda and imagined plunging her whole head in.

  Had she really been so stupid as to say that? To ask that?

  She couldn’t stay mad at Zeke forever and needed to find a way to get over her embarrassment and humiliation, but like every other emotion she had when it came to Zeke Harper...easier said than done.

  “Hey, Mollie,” Matt Fielding greeted her as he bent down to grab a drink of his own. “Everything okay with you and Zeke?”

  Though Mollie didn’t know Matt well, he, like all former soldiers, had a place in her heart. Add in the smile the man had put on Claire’s face and the fact that he’d recently adopted Hank, an older three-legged dog from Furever Paws that too many people had passed over, and Mollie had even more reason to be grateful to the man. But that didn’t necessarily mean that she wanted to spill her guts to him. “Sure. Everything’s great. How about you and Claire?”

  Matt glanced across the yard with a smile as his gaze landed on his fiancée. With her shoulder-length blond hair caught back in a headband and a smile on her face as she spoke with Zeke’s mother, Claire looked as lovely and as happy as ever. “She’s perfect,” he vowed, a hint of awe filling his deep voice.

  “Glad to hear it.” And she was. Glad and only a tiny bit eaten alive with envy at the way the high school sweethearts had reunited.

  “Zeke tells me you came up with a potential therapy dog for Bobby Doyle.”

  Feeling like he was giving her too much credit, Mollie argued, “It was Zeke’s idea. He’s really hoping it might help.”

  “Well, you know Zeke better than anyone. Helping people is who he is.”

  Matt was right about that. Which was what made it so hard to stay angry at him. After filling Matt in on Charlie’s progress, she said, “I really think Charlie could do Bobby a world of good. Of course, he’d have to continue training her. It can take eighteen months for a dog to actually be certified as a therapy dog.”

  “Some things don’t require any training. Sometimes it’s enough for a dog just to be a dog.”

  Mollie nodded, the lingering shadows in Matt’s gaze reminders of how much he’d overcome and how much having a dog like Hank had helped. “There’s a reason why they’re called man’s best friend.”

  “Speaking of best friends...” Matt tipped his head in Zeke’s direction, and Mollie barely held back a groan.

  “Pretty sure we were talking about dogs.”

  “Yeah, well, when are you gonna let that one out of the doghouse?”

  “I’m not—”

  “You’re pissed,” the ex-soldier chuckled softly. “Doesn’t take a psychologist to see that.”

  “Zeke is my best friend, but he can be so—” Dense. Blind. Stubborn. “—frustrating sometimes,” Mollie concluded.

  “Yep,” Matt agreed after taking a long swig from the bright red aluminum can. “But you gotta give the guy a break.” With a sidelong glance, he added, “It’s not like he knows you’re in love with him.”

  Mollie choked on her own swallow of soda, coughing loudly enough to gain the attention of the other guests—and Zeke, who was standing a few yards away talking to Dan Sutton. Mollie focused on resettling her breathing before he rushed over to perform the Heimlich maneuver.

  She didn’t want to stereotype, but this somewhat stoic, tough former army corporal didn’t exactly scream someone in touch with his emotional side. And if Matt had figured out how she felt about Zeke... Not to mention how she’d practically begged him to kiss her... Mollie swallowed.

  Maybe her parents had the right idea. Maybe she would start wearing animal fur and go live in the wild. Anywhere that she wouldn’t have to face another living soul.

  Pathetic crush... Pity date...

  “We’re friends,” she argued, but that, too, sounded way too pathetic and pitiful.

  “Uh-huh. He told me he offered to try to set you up on a date. We went through just about every single guy in town, and Zeke couldn’t come up with anyone.”

  “The whole town, and the two of you couldn’t come up with one guy who’d go out with me? That’s, wow...” Mortified, Mollie shook her head. “Claire told me you were a mechanic in the army, but are you sure
you weren’t secretly charged with interrogating people? Because, honestly, I would tell you just about anything right now if it would make you stop.”

  “He couldn’t come up with anyone,” Matt repeated, “because he thought that none of the guys were good enough for you. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “That Zeke takes looking out for his best friend’s baby sister very seriously? That he doesn’t want to see me with the wrong kind of guy?” Wasn’t that what Zeke had said?

  “Maybe.” Matt said. “Or maybe he doesn’t want to see you with another guy at all.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Mollie! Over here!”

  Mollie glanced across the crowded coffee shop to see Rebekah Taylor waving at her. After making her way between the full tables with her morning mocha latte in hand, Mollie slipped into the seat the new shelter director had saved for her.

  “It always amazes me how busy this place is,” the dark-haired woman said as she glanced around with an assessing eye.

  “Well, Whole Bean kind of has the market on the caffeinated crowd. Spring Forest doesn’t exactly have a coffee shop on every corner.”

  “This must be a prime location for networking. I bet if you sit here long enough, you’ll see just about everyone in town.”

  “I suppose.” Mollie had already done a visual sweep of the shop for the one person she didn’t want to see. Most days Zeke would grab a coffee before he headed into Raleigh, but by now, he would already be at the office. Not that Mollie was purposefully avoiding him. She was just...

  Purposefully avoiding him.

  She wouldn’t be able to keep her distance forever. As angry as she was, she already missed him. Over a week had passed since the barbecue, and she’d picked up the phone more than once to update him on Charlie’s training. But each time she’d hung up without making the call.

  First Josh and then Matt... Both men seemed to see something more than friendship or big-brotherly concern in Zeke’s actions. Their comments were enough to make Mollie want to hope, but hope was such a dangerous thing when it came to her heart and Zeke Harper.

  So instead of calling Zeke, she’d called Josh and arranged for another date that weekend. He’d suggested going with some of his friends to see a jazz band play in Raleigh, and Mollie wished she was more excited by the prospect. But whenever she tried to think about the other man, her mind was immediately hijacked by memories of Zeke’s kiss.

  Each time, she was assailed by a wave of guilt, although she wasn’t entirely sure what made her feel worse—going on a date with Josh after kissing Zeke or kissing Zeke after going on a date with Josh.

  Either way, that living-in-the-wild option was looking better and better.

  “I’ve brought the intake paperwork on the shelter’s newest rescue,” Rebekah was saying. “With Furever Paws still under construction, we’re hoping to find a foster quickly. I thought you might want to review her history before we head over for the introduction.”

  “I, um, sure.” Mollie reached for the manila folder Rebekah handed over. She had to hide a bit of a smile when she caught sight of the photo clipped to the front. She wasn’t sure how much “history” a four-month-old golden retriever mix could have, but she appreciated Rebekah’s attention to detail.

  More often than not, Mollie was working with little to no information on the dogs she evaluated. Most were strays dropped off by good Samaritans or animals pulled from the overcrowded local county shelter. Still, she flipped through the paperwork as Rebekah said, “We have a foster in mind for her, but the family has children and pets.”

  Something in the other woman’s voice had Mollie glancing up. Rebekah gave a small headshake that set her shoulder-length curls trembling. “A lot of children and a lot of pets.”

  Unsure what to make of the other woman’s comment, Mollie murmured, “Oh...okay.”

  Straightening her shoulders, Rebekah insisted, “I just want to make sure that Goldie will fit in with such a...chaotic household.”

  Mollie supposed a house full of kids and pets could be overwhelming to some dogs and to certain ultra-organized businesswomen like Rebekah. But the image didn’t strike her as chaotic. To her it all sounded...wonderful.

  As she flipped back to the front page and the goofy, floppy-eared puppy who seemed to have LET’S PLAY! written all over her cute face, Mollie had a feeling Goldie would agree. “Hopefully the family will be just right.”

  When Rebekah frowned slightly, Mollie hurried to explain, “You know, Goldie... Goldilocks.”

  “Oh, right.”

  Feeling foolish for having to explain what was obviously a lame joke, Mollie quickly asked, “How are things going with the renovations? I know Birdie and Bunny are thrilled to have you on board.”

  Rebekah’s smile faltered a little. “Well, they are...”

  As the other woman’s voice trailed off, Mollie asked, “Is there someone at the shelter who’s not as welcoming?”

  When Rebekah stayed silent, Mollie’s face started to heat as she feared the other woman might have felt she was prying. She was ready to wave off the question and make some kind of inane comment about the gorgeous May weather when the other woman looked up from stirring her cappuccino.

  “I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but it’s the Whitakers’ nephew, Grant.”

  Though Grant Whitaker lived in Florida, he’d returned to Spring Forest several times over the past few months. Mollie had been impressed with his obvious love for his aunts, but she wasn’t surprised that the marketing manager with his laid-back surfer vibe had clashed with Rebekah’s type A personality.

  “I know the Whitaker sisters adore him, and he’s supposed to be some kind of business whiz.” Rebekah’s eye roll seemed to refute that possibility. “But, honestly, what kind of serious businessman wears flip-flops and thinks a T-shirt printed with Surf’s Up is appropriate work attire? And if he’s nearly as important as Birdie and Bunny think he is, how can he afford to miss so much work by coming up here every other week to ‘check on things’?”

  Mollie had always found the Whitaker sisters to be pretty good judges of character, though she did wonder a bit at their unquestioning loyalty to family. They’d stayed close to their brother Moose, Grant’s father, even after he sold his share of the property and moved to Florida, leaving the family home behind. The youngest sibling, their brother Gator, had also been left a parcel of land in Spring Forest but sold out years ago and made a fortune with the reinvested money.

  All of which made him sound like a man capable of advising his siblings, but he was also the one who’d let the insurance on the shelter lapse. An oversight, according to the sisters, but Mollie, Amanda and Claire weren’t so sure. Maybe family ties had blinded the sisters to some of Grant’s faults, as well.

  Still, she pointed out, “I’m sure he just wants to know that the money brought in by last month’s fund-raiser and the grant you’ve received are put to good use.”

  “I suppose,” Rebekah admitted, “but it would help if he didn’t watch me as if I’m planning to run off with the funds the moment he turns his back.”

  With her dark hair, hazel eyes and matching dimples in a heart-shaped face, Rebekah was a stunning woman. Throw in a curvy body and a sharp mind, and Mollie wondered if it wasn’t something other than suspicion that kept Grant’s eyes glued to her every move. Still, she swallowed the suggestion before she could make it. Who was she to think she knew anything about romance? As Zeke would quickly point out, she was clearly “mistaken.”

  Fortunately, Rebekah didn’t seem to expect a response. With a glance at the watch on her wrist, she said, “Are you ready to head over to the shelter? I’ve asked Goldie’s potential foster to meet us there at nine.”

  Glancing at the coffeepot clock hanging behind the barista’s counter, Mollie figured leaving now would give them a good twenty-seven minutes to
spare, but she nodded anyway and lifted her cup. “I can take this to go.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Mollie’s professional assessment of the young golden retriever was that she was energetic but with a low prey drive, highly treat-motivated and eager to please. Her personal opinion was that Goldie was about the cutest fluff ball she’d ever seen and she pretty much wanted to squeeze her to death. Needless to say, Mollie gave the go-ahead for Goldie to be fostered by the Nelsons.

  “Thank you for the evaluation,” Rebekah said as she somewhat futilely brushed at the golden fur clinging to her straight black skirt. “I’m glad Goldie has a new temporary home.”

  “I’m sure she’ll find a permanent one soon, too, if the Nelsons don’t end up adopting her themselves.”

  Rebekah’s hands stilled. “But they already have two dogs. And a cat...and children.”

  “They do,” Mollie agreed, but from what she’d seen, the family also had a serious case of puppy love where Goldie was concerned. Giving a single shoulder shrug, she suggested to Rebekah, “The more the merrier?”

  “That’s what I always say!”

  Mollie turned at the sound of the bubbly voice behind her. A dark-haired woman with warm brown eyes and a friendly smile held out her hand. “Emma Alvarez. Crazy cat lady.”

  Laughing, Mollie shook the other woman’s hand. “Mollie McFadden, crazy dog lady.”

  With a sigh, Rebekah said, “Well, I see that the two of you will have plenty in common. Mollie, Emma just moved to Spring Forest and is a volunteer in our cattery. Mollie is our resident dog whisperer.”

  “So what brought you to Spring Forest?”

  The twenty-something woman lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Oh, you know,” she said vaguely. “The usual.”

  Unsure what that might mean, Mollie was grateful when Rebekah chimed in saying, “I’m hoping to talk Emma into volunteering as a foster, especially now that it’s kitten season and we have so many pregnant moms and babies.”