A Proposal for the Officer
Page 3
“I caught the name.” Her eyes were narrowed into slits. “I meant are you one of the baseball Chattersons or are you the one who plays video games for a living?”
Despite being on the cover of Forbes last month for their feature article on “World’s Youngest Billionaires,” Kaleb’s siblings never let him forget that no matter how much money he made, he would always be the little brother. So when Molly said “video games” in that tone, she might as well have been asking if he was the one who set fire to small wildlife animals in his parents’ basement. At least his back brace and teenage acne were long gone. Along with his self-respect apparently.
“Video games?” Hunter snorted. “Kaleb’s, like, the most successful software developer in the world.”
Oblivious to the tension in the front seat, the boy launched into a monologue about the company’s top-selling games while Molly’s eyes shot icy glares at Kaleb and her forefinger made a dramatic swipe against her throat. It took him a moment to figure out that she was referring to him staying silent about what had happened at the store, not his job profession. Or maybe she didn’t want him to bring up either subject. All he knew was that he liked her soft pink lips a lot more when they weren’t pursed together in a violent shushing gesture. Actually, he kind of liked them both ways.
He mouthed the words, “What’s the big deal?”
But the minivan behind him honked to let him know the light had changed to green, and he didn’t get a chance to lip-read Molly’s response.
So she had diabetes. What was the big deal? Millions of people probably had the same diagnosis and didn’t go into undercover stealth mode to keep it a secret. He needed to know why.
“Dude, all of your electronic devices are, like, going crazy.” Hunter was apparently done with his rambling soliloquy about Perfect Game Industries, although it did give Kaleb’s ego a boost to know that at least one person in the town of Sugar Falls—besides his mother—didn’t think his company was a fallback career. “Are you gonna answer them?”
Kaleb glanced at the display. Speaking of his mother, his family was certainly busting out the big guns if Lacey Chatterson was trying to track him down. Everyone knew he never avoided his mom’s calls. If he didn’t respond soon, he’d get a firsthand look at how this little ski resort town up in the mountains ran a full-scale search party.
“I’ll call them back later,” he said, slipping his cell phone into his front pocket. “Let’s help your aunt take these groceries inside.”
Falling completely off the grid and being the irresponsible Chatterson might be fun for a change.
Chapter Three
When Molly had initially been medically grounded, she’d still been living on base so the daily routine of military life made it easy to pretend that nothing would change. Just like the time she’d twisted her ankle after a postejection survival training exercise, she pulled office duty—pushing paperwork and keeping her personal life classified. There was no point in getting her family and squad mates all worried about something that would probably require a simple fix. She hadn’t even told her fiancé about her diagnosis. Although, in her defense, she’d been about to when she walked into Trevor’s condo with a bag of Chinese takeout from his favorite restaurant and found him eating pork dumplings from the ends of another woman’s chopsticks.
Canceling vendors, returning wedding gifts and watching her savings account free-fall with all the forfeited deposits was only slightly more pleasant than undergoing a battery of doctor appointments and lab tests. In a last-ditch attempt to get away from it all, Molly had cashed in on Trevor’s trip insurance and went solo on the honeymoon that never was. Unfortunately, besides a great suntan and a somewhat functional straw tote from a street market in Fiji, Molly’s head wasn’t any clearer than it had been two weeks ago.
As she looked around at her sister’s apartment—which she’d been thinking of as her temporary duty station until she could figure out what she was going to do with her life—Molly felt as though she’d just overshot her landing and had to circle around and try it again. Exhausted, both emotionally and physically, she was halfway curled into a ball on the oversize white sofa in the living room, watching her nephew and Kaleb put away groceries she didn’t remember selecting. What in the world was she going to do with all those cans of soup?
More important, what was she going to do with this guy who now knew her secret? She shuddered. Even thinking the word secret made her feel all dirty and cowardly, like she was hunkering down in some barren cave rather than Maxine’s plush renovated apartment in the heart of quaint, touristy Sugar Falls.
Kaleb’s face was so handsome the glasses almost looked fake. A few weeks ago, when she’d first experienced problems with dizziness, Molly had been looking at all the advertisement posters above the display cases at the ophthalmologist’s office while she waited for her vision tests to come back. This guy resembled the sexy models in the pictures, trying to convince the middle-aged patients with cataracts and receding hairlines that they, too, would look like some gorgeous stud if only they invested in the right spectacles.
His brown hair was a bit too long and too messy. His jeans were a bit too new and too expensive, despite the fact that they certainly fit his slim hips well. And when he’d stripped off his hooded sweatshirt and she’d seen him in his shirt, Molly let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. His dark blue T-shirt appeared to be made for him, the fabric so soft and well-worn she could see the ridges of his lean muscles under it.
All in all, he didn’t look like the owner of a multi-billion-dollar technology empire. Which was probably why she was so surprised to find out that he was related to her sister’s best friend. Not that the rest of the Chattersons were much different than this one, with the exception of most of them being redheads. And they were only millionaires, as opposed to billionaires.
“Can we order some pizza from Patrelli’s?” Hunter asked after digging around in the shopping bags and only coming up with food that would require a can opener to prepare.
She nodded and would’ve handed him her cell phone, but he’d already pulled out his own. “Get me a large meatball sub,” she said as he started dialing.
“Actually,” Kaleb interjected, “Molly is going to have the chicken Caesar salad. Dressing on the side.”
Hunter gave his idol a thumbs-up before speaking to a person on the other end of the line. Apparently, being a favorite aunt had just been trumped by the guy who invented some stupid video game called “Blockcraft.”
“But I wanted the meatball sub.” Molly crossed her arms across her chest, her voice sounding whinier than she’d intended.
“And do you also want your nephew to have to call 9-1-1 when you go into another one of your blood sugar attacks?” One of Kaleb’s brown eyebrows arched above his glasses.
Molly tried to arch her own brow in response to him, but only succeeded in looking like she had something stuck in her eye. Being tired was one thing, but she was beginning to feel completely useless.
“I’m gonna walk down the block to pick it up,” Hunter said, pulling on a sweatshirt. “I sure like our new house, but sometimes I really miss living in the middle of town like this.”
Kaleb handed the boy two twenty-dollar bills and her nephew was out the door before Molly could even protest. Or ask him not to leave her alone with the hunky tech guy who’d just saved her. Sort of.
“You didn’t have to buy dinner, too. I have money,” she said, looking around for her wallet. Actually, she didn’t know how much longer her military salary would last and she probably shouldn’t be wasting it on pizza—or dry salads, in this case.
“I think all of your cash went to the swear jar,” Kaleb said, his hands loosely tucked into his front pockets. He was probably eager to get away from her. Not that she could blame him. She’d been trying to get away from herself for quite a few weeks, as well.
“Okay, but if it’s your sister, don’t tell her about...you know...”
“Why not?”
“Because then she’ll tell my sister, remember?”
He rolled his eyes, then swiped his finger across the screen. “Hey, Kylie.”
Molly dragged her tote bag onto her lap and pulled out her black case. She may as well check her glucose levels before Hunter returned. The distraction might also keep her from listening to Kaleb’s smooth, deep voice.
As she pricked her finger and pressed out a droplet of blood, she heard him make several noncommittal sounds to whatever his sister was saying on the other end.
“Mmm-hmm.” He walked around the coffee table to stand beside her, the waistband of his jeans right in her line of vision. Lately, in the guy department, Molly thought she’d been working on autopilot. However, a shot of electricity zipped through her, activating the dormant wiring circuits in her lower extremities.
“Uh-huh.” He leaned over to see the digital reading on her compact machine. She tightened her lips, taking in a deep breath through her nose. Whoa. Did all billionaires smell this amazing?
“Is that good?” he whispered to her, his hand over the speaker and his eyes soft with concern. She had to force her own eyes away from his flat abdomen and toward the numbers on the screen in front of her.
She was almost back within normal range, yet still gave him an “okay” sign with her thumb and forefinger. His smile mirrored the relief she should have felt. Or would have felt if her heart hadn’t started hammering at how close he was to her.
“No, Molly’s fine.” His voice snapped her brain out of whatever trance she’d just been in and she began waving her arms in front of her face, inadvertently hitting him in the hip and causing him to glare down at her.
“Don’t say my name,” she whispered.
“Too late,” he mouthed.
“Here, let me talk to her.” She reached for his phone, but her energy hadn’t fully recovered and her crisscrossed legs got tangled when she tried to stand up. He sidestepped her and held his palm out, probably trying to cut her off because he thought he had the conversation under control.
“No, she wasn’t too sloshed to drive,” Kaleb told his sister indignantly.
Molly gave him a nod of encouragement. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”
“Oh, c’mon, Kylie. I’m not going to ask her if she’s pregnant.”
Hmm. Molly tilted her head to the side and tapped a couple of fingers against her lip. As far as red herrings went, it wasn’t ideal. But she could work with it. Maxine knew about the breakup with Trevor and Molly hadn’t exactly corrected her sister when she’d offered up the use of her apartment as a refuge for mending her broken heart. Pregnancy definitely would be a lot simpler to explain, at least for a few months while she bought herself more time.
“Because it’s none of my business,” Kaleb said into the phone. “And it’s none of yours.”
Molly’s eyes widened in surprise. She couldn’t believe that he was jumping to her defense, but she nodded her encouragement, anyway.
“Uh-huh.” Kaleb pushed his hair off his forehead, then ran a hand through his dark brown curls, which fell in waves to his chin. “Fine. I’ll be there in thirty minutes and we can talk about it then.”
Molly collapsed backward, her head falling into a pile of down throw pillows. It would’ve been nice if he could’ve stalled a bit more. As it was, she would now have half that time to coach Kaleb on exactly what to say to throw his family off her trail. Or to figure out a way to prevent him from walking out of this apartment.
“No, you do not need to send Dad to come get me.” Kaleb spoke into the phone, but he was staring straight at Molly. And his annoyed expression promised retribution for this farce she’d gotten them both into.
* * *
When he arrived at Kylie’s house a while later, Kaleb surrendered the margarita fixings and tried to give his incredibly nosy family the look that usually sent his employees scurrying back to their cubicles. Or at least the look he intended to convey his authority and his unwillingness to discuss a matter. Unfortunately, his family didn’t work for him and they certainly didn’t respect any boundaries when it came to his personal life—or any facet of his life, really.
“Maybe you should’ve called one of her relatives,” his mother suggested.
“Or brought her here so we could check her out ourselves,” Kylie advised.
“You mean interrogate her in person?” Kaleb asked, and his sister rolled her eyes in response. “You guys, she was totally fine. It’s probably some twenty-four-hour bug that’s going around. In fact, I should probably quarantine myself in case I was exposed. Wouldn’t want to get any of you sick.”
“Nice try, Brainiac,” Kylie replied. “As if Captain Markham would be felled by some pesky flu. That woman is as tough as they come. Maxine told me that one time, when Molly was in flight school, she got her thumb stuck in a busted air shaft vent and almost ripped it clean off. Rather than tell her instructors or call for a medic, she used her good hand and a utility knife and cut off the strap of her bra to hold the digit in place. She would’ve cut into the fabric of her flight suit, but she didn’t want to be out of uniform.”
“Still,” his mom said. “You probably shouldn’t have left her alone if she’s sick.”
Kaleb had told himself that same thing during his walk back to the truck at Duncan’s, during his wait at the checkout line at the market with a fresh—and unmelted—bag of ice and then throughout the entire drive here. “She was already feeling better when I left and she’s not alone. She’s with her nephew. And trust me, that kid is smart enough to call in for reinforcements even if his stubborn aunt isn’t.”
“So, you think Molly’s stubborn?” His sister’s eyes lit up and Kaleb knew from experience not to let her bait him.
“No, you said she was stubborn when she tried to fix her own thumb instead of getting help.”
“I said she was tough, not stubborn.”
“What’s the difference?” Kaleb asked, then thought better of his question when he saw both his sister and his mom open their mouths to answer him. “Never mind. Listen, I’m gonna head over to Kane’s house just in case I caught whatever bug Molly has. I’ll call you guys in the morning.”
Kaleb knew full well that what Molly had wasn’t contagious, but if it got him out of the line of fire quicker, he’d say whatever he could to get a few hours’ reprieve. And in his defense, he was doing it to protect her. To protect her secret. He wasn’t avoiding his family because they drove him nuts. Truly.
Although, if his relatives even got the slightest suspicion that he, in any way, was attracted to an eligible woman, the teasing would never cease. Not that Molly was eligible. Or that Kaleb cared either way. Dating led to obligations and obligations led to commitment. The only commitment he had time for was his company.
On the drive to his brother’s house—where he was staying alone since Kane had moved into town with his fiancée—Kaleb picked up his smartphone several times to call Molly and check on her, each time realizing he never got her phone number. He’d programmed his number into her cell and told her to call him in case anything came up. But she’d never offered to do the same.
Which was for the best. He had no business calling her, let alone fostering this bizarre sense of responsibility he now felt toward her. When he’d dealt with scoliosis, he’d hated people babying him, wondering if the brace he wore was uncomfortable, telling him he’d be able to play sports again soon enough. Kaleb couldn’t imagine she’d respond any differently than he had as a surly teenager, determined to prove to the world that he was just as healthy and capable as everyone else in his athletic family.
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But the silence of the truck cab felt unnatural, as did the feeling of not being on the phone with someone. So Kaleb used his voice command feature to call his assistant. He counted three rings, more than the usual two, before Angela answered.
“You’re supposed to be on vacation,” Angela said by way of greeting.
“I’m never on vacation.”
“Does your old man know that?” his assistant asked. “Because Coach Chatterson gave me very specific instructions that nobody from the office was to bother you for the next ten days while you’re with your family.”
That was just like his father to go behind his back like that. And with one of his trusted employees, no less. “Does my dad pay your salary now?”
“No, but he promised to get me a baseball signed by your brother if I sent all the employees a memo instructing them not to call you.”
“Sellout,” Kaleb snorted.
“Can you blame me? Do you know how much authenticated memorabilia signed by the infamous Kane Chatterson goes for nowadays?”
“I didn’t mean you. I meant my brother. He of all people should know not to interfere in my business.”
“Aw, c’mon, Kaleb. You told your family that the only way you would take time off from your job was if they agreed to take time off their jobs. You can’t blame them for wanting to get you back for scheduling this trip right during the middle of baseball season.”
He grunted, but smiled to himself because he’d definitely outplayed his dad and brothers with that negotiation maneuver.
“Besides,” Angela continued, “deep down, you know your family is looking out for your best interest.”
“Story of my life,” Kaleb said as he flicked on the turn signal. A few years ago, he would’ve been annoyed, but now the high-handed move was completely expected and Kaleb would’ve suspected something was wrong if his family hadn’t tried to protect him in some way. Old habits were hard to break and all that. He didn’t begrudge them their motivation, even when he grew exasperated with their tactics. “So, tell me how the testing of the avatar prototype went.”