A Proposal for the Officer

by Christy Jeffries

  And so it began. Kaleb would try to make things go as smoothly as possible, but when it came to his loud, opinionated family, he knew better than to make any promises he couldn’t keep.

  * * *

  “Maxine ran through your family tree on the car ride over here, so I think I’ve got all the adults’ names,” Molly said to Kaleb as they stood on the deck overlooking the lake, her initial jitters of meeting everyone tamped down now that she knew the only nerve-racking part would be to get through the rest of the evening without blowing their cover. “But I can’t remember which kids go with which parents.”

  Most of the men were gathered around the grill, which had been moved to the grassy area below. Maxine was sitting with her swollen ankles propped up on another seat, the ladies clustered nearby drinking their strawberry daiquiris while Hunter and the rest of the kids played some sort of made-up game that resembled Wiffle ball. Or badminton. Or a combination of both. Molly wondered if they were even following a set of rules.

  “So the twin girls in that playpen thing belong to Kylie and her husband, Drew.” Kaleb used his beer bottle to point. “Those three redheads chasing after the dog who just stole the pink ball belong to my brother Bobby Junior. His wife is off at some health spa this week, which is fine because she hates our family vacations and isn’t afraid to let everyone know.”

  “How could anyone hate this?” Molly asked. It was true; so far everyone had been so nice and some of the stories they’d told about Kaleb were not only hilarious, they also took the attention off her. They were nothing like her family. Sure, they teased each other mercilessly, but each sibling gave as good as they got. Nobody was spared and no secret was safe. The Chattersons were open and warm and playful and, within thirty minutes, made Molly feel more relaxed and at ease than she’d been during the past few weeks.

  “Are you kidding? It’s a circus, but with more prodding of the caged animals and a few extra clowns who aren’t very funny.”

  “I think you secretly love it,” she said, then laughed when he rolled his eyes. “You’ve only looked at your smartwatch five times and haven’t called your assistant once. Clearly, you’re not that bored.”

  “Not bored? I’m on high alert. I can’t let my guard down for a second around these jokesters. You know what these big families are like.”

  “Actually,” she said, then cleared her throat when a hint of emotion welled up in her chest, “I don’t. I mean, there’s a lot of us, but we’re not exactly the type of family that vacations together.”

  “Um, aren’t you vacationing with your sister right now?” Kaleb asked.

  Molly schooled her expression so that she didn’t appear too uneasy. “This isn’t exactly a vacation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s more of a temporary medical leave. I don’t know when I’ll be going back to work.” She refused to make eye contact with him, not wanting to see the concern she knew would be reflected there. But because she’d already admitted as much, she added, “If I return to work at all.”

  “I’m guessing you’re not going to tell your sister about that, either?”

  “Eventually. Maybe.” So much for that short-lived feeling of relaxation. When he kept looking at her, she felt the need to explain. “People always assumed that because we’re sisters we’re born confidantes. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It isn’t like we fight or dislike each other. But growing up in the Markham household, there was a pretty high value placed on privacy. Especially when you were number five out of six. By the time I came along, everyone had already been forced to share rooms, toys and even their ice-cream bowls. Anyway, nobody wanted to have to share their dreams or their innermost feelings, either. At least, not with their kid sister. On the rare occasions when we did have family dinners, silence was certainly golden. My siblings definitely aren’t as informative and entertaining as yours. You’re very lucky, Kaleb.”

  He studied her in the fading sunlight and she rocked back on her sandaled heels. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to? Desire curled around her tummy. A part of her had craved his lips on hers since the first time she saw him. But she certainly didn’t want him making a move only because he felt sorry for her.

  To get his attention—and hers—off a possible very public display of affection, she went back to their original conversation. “And those two boys, the other set of twins, who do they belong to?”

  “Those little rascals aren’t technically Chattersons. But they might as well be. And between me and you, they might be my favorite kids ever. Their parents are Carmen and Luke. Luke is Drew’s twin brother.”

  “That makes three sets? Wow!”

  “Yep. Moving on, the overweight basset hound belongs to Kane and Julia. And my brother Kevin over there—” he pointed to the guy wearing a ball cap and sunglasses, nursing a hangover on a lounge chair “—he can’t even take care of a houseplant, let alone another living thing.”

  “Hey, Molly,” one of the twin boys yelled up to them. “You ready for another drink? Uncle Kevin pays us five dollars every time we bring him a beer.”

  Before she could politely decline, Kaleb announced to the entire family below, “She’s had enough.”

  Molly felt her face turn as red as the melted liquid in her red plastic cup.

  “You don’t have to make me sound like a lush who needs to be cut off.” Then, to prove to his family that Kaleb wasn’t calling the shots, she said, “I’ll have one more, but I only have two dollars.”

  “You’re on,” the boy said, hustling over to the bar before his stepmom, who was still on duty and dressed in her police uniform, slapped a hand to her forehead and followed behind.

  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kaleb said, close on Molly’s heels as she descended the steps. “There’s a ton of sugar in those things and you don’t want to...you know...with everyone watching.”

  “I also don’t want to stand out or have your family think that there’s something wrong with me,” she replied through a tight smile. “I won’t actually drink it.”

  He maneuvered himself in front of her path and quickly turned to face her, forcing her to stop one step above him. Their eyes were on the same level. “How about a Diet Coke instead?”

  “How about I act like a normal houseguest and take an extra dose of insulin later?” She tried to step around him, but his hands reached out to grasp her hips and another one of those currents of electricity shot through her. Yet she didn’t know if this was from desire or anger.

  “Hey, look,” the other twin called out. “Uncle Kaleb is gonna kiss her!”

  If she hadn’t already been blushing to the roots of her hair, she certainly was now. “You weren’t going to kiss me, were you?”

  “I didn’t intend to, but now that everyone is watching us, it’ll look weird if I don’t. Unless you don’t want me to...”

  “Kiss her, Uncle Kaleb!” a little redhead girl yelled.

  Molly’s eyes widened, hoping he’d give her some sort of direction on how to handle this situation. When Kaleb placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, Kevin led all the kids in a round of disappointing boos.

  “That was the best you could do?” Molly whispered before Carmen handed her the strawberry daiquiri and waved away the two dollars. She took a slug of the drink, hoping to cool her cheeks down, then quickly handed it over to Kaleb when the sugary contents hit her throat. Whew. She was going to pay for that later.

  “I assure you, I could do a lot better,” Kaleb said quietly, his thumb making slow circles along her hip.

  Looking at the heat in his eyes, Molly didn’t doubt for a second that if they didn’t have a captive audience, the man would more than prove himself right.

  * * *

  The following morning, Kaleb told himself that he was only going to the Cowgirl Up Café for breakfast because he’d been craving some
biscuits and gravy and he wanted to escape Bobby Junior’s three noisy kids, who had overflowed from Kylie’s lakefront house and were now intruding on his solitary stay at Kane’s place. Not because he was hoping to see Molly in town. And definitely not because he was still looking for the opportunity to get her alone and make good on his promise of a more thorough kiss.

  He parked the truck on Snowflake Boulevard and as he passed two horses—he did a double take to see that the animals were real and not just some sort of small-town stage prop—tied to a post outside the restaurant, the aroma of bacon and coffee almost made him forget the teasing his brothers had put him through after Molly had left last night. Almost.

  When he pulled open the saloon-style front door of the café, his relief at seeing her sitting in a back booth upholstered with cow print was short-lived. Because sitting across the table from her was Kylie and Mia, a friend of his sister’s and Maxine’s from college.

  There was a row of empty seats at the counter, but there was no way Kaleb could get away without acknowledging his sister, her friend and the woman he was supposedly dating. He dropped his laptop bag on one of the chairs at the counter, claiming his space in a way to announce to everyone that he had no intention of joining the women. He’d go say hello quickly, then come back over here to go through several financial reports and send out a few emails before his father started calling around looking for him.

  “Ladies,” he said by way of greeting, right before he spotted the half-eaten cinnamon roll in front of Molly. “What’s going on?”

  Really, he was asking Molly about her food choices, but thankfully Kylie thought the world revolved around her and assumed he was speaking to all of them.

  “We’re planning a baby shower for Maxine,” Kylie said. “You remember my friend Mia, right?”

  “Of course.” Kaleb reached across to shake the petite brunette’s hand. “Nice to see you again.”

  His sister and Mia went on to tell him about when they were having the party, but his eyes were drawn back to the pastry Molly had no doubt been eating before he’d arrived. Their talk of baby bottles and finger foods and stork decorations distracted him from what he really wanted to do, which was scope out Molly for any evidence of symptoms that might suggest she was about to have another one of her episodes.

  However, Molly’s expression was suspiciously riveted on whatever the other women were saying and she’d barely acknowledged his presence. She was so busted.

  “Well, it sounds like you guys have things under control, so if you’ll excuse me—” Kaleb nodded toward his laptop bag on the counter stool “—I’m going to have a quick bite before Dad calls me with whatever plans are on today’s Chatterson family agenda.”

  “It’s Jet Skiing,” Kylie said. “Drew and Kane were pulling the Sea-Doos out of the boat shed when I left, and if they find out you’re over here on that stupid computer again while they’re taking orders from Dad, you’re going to be put in charge of filling up all the water balloons for the Aqua Battle this afternoon.”

  “Nobody likes a rat, Kylie.” Kaleb winked at his sister before turning to Molly. “Since you’re not going to eat this, I’ll finish it for you.”

  He snatched the cinnamon roll from the table just as she was reaching for the plate. The heat of her glare penetrated his back as he returned to his seat, but he didn’t care. She would be thanking him later. He opened up his computer as an older waitress with hair much bigger and more peach colored than nature had intended leaned a spandex-covered hip against the counter. He recognized Freckles, the owner of the restaurant, from his last visit to town.

  “It’s been two years since you had one of my famous cinnamon rolls, Kaleb Chatterson,” she said as she pulled a pencil from behind an earlobe lined with studded earrings. “You know I’d give you your own. You don’t have to go around stealing them from my pretty customers. Even if you are dating her.”

  Kaleb risked a peek at the woman in question, praying she didn’t hear what the sassy waitress had just announced. But the older woman snorted. “Small-town rumor mills been around long before you fancy computer kids ever invented that social media nonsense.”

  “Technically, Freckles,” Kaleb defended himself, “I had one when I was in here on Monday.”

  “No, you had the cinnamon roll French toast. Two different things.” Freckles used the pencil to gesture toward Monica, who’d waited on them a few days ago. “Darlin, even on my days off, I know what people are eating in my own restaurant. And more important, I know who they’re eating it with.”

  The woman’s wink revealed a smudge of green eye shadow that didn’t match the fuchsia lipstick on her smirking grin. Kaleb didn’t mind the good-natured teasing, especially since it kept her from noticing the way Molly had just downed two glasses of ice water and was beating a fast retreat to the restrooms.

  “Well, today, I’ll be having the biscuits and gravy and I’ll be eating it alone,” Kaleb said, not bothering to look at the menu.

  When Freckles turned toward the kitchen, Kaleb waited a full forty-five seconds before following Molly to the back of the restaurant. Thankfully, the bathrooms were down the hall and none of the diners could see him as he waited outside. After a few minutes, or maybe only one—who was counting—he knocked on the door to the ladies’ room. There was no answer so he jiggled the handle. It was unlocked, and he knew that if it was anything like the men’s, there was only one separate stall inside.

  He weighed his choices briefly before a vision of Molly, pale and nearly passed out as she had been inside Duncan’s Market that day they’d first met, replayed in his mind.

  He opened the door and was only slightly relieved that he hadn’t walked in on another woman. He recognized her green sneakers under the stall. “Molly, is that you?”

  She gasped. “Who else would it be?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Kaleb, do you know this is a ladies’ room?”

  “If I didn’t before, the hot-pink cowboy hat wallpaper would’ve given it away.”

  The sound of a plastic lid being snapped shut, followed by a zipper came from inside the stall before she finally emerged, shoving her little black case into her tote bag. “What are you doing in here?”

  He nodded toward the straw purse. “What was your number?”

  “My number is supposed to be that I don’t have a stupid number. Two months ago, nobody cared about my levels. I didn’t even know I had levels. Yet, now I’m living in this completely foreign land with a whole new language I never knew existed and every few hours, a drop of blood on a little test strip is supposed to tell me what kind of day I’m having.”

  “But you’re not alone. People are going through exact same thing you are and—”

  “Where, Kaleb?” Molly cut him off. “Where are these people who are going through this? Because they aren’t here in the ladies’ room with me. And they certainly aren’t in my squadron, which is where I belong. I know that other people have this same disease. I even know that they have support groups. But right now, I’m still grieving my former life—the life that I probably will never get to go back to—and I don’t need anyone else scrutinizing my every move and constantly reminding me of what I’ve lost.”

  His throat constricted and he wanted to argue that she hadn’t lost everything. He’d downloaded several books on diabetes to his iPad and was convinced that she could manage it if given the right support tools. However, he also knew that she needed to grieve in her own way and come to these conclusions on her own. At least, that’s what some of the experts said.

  However, he couldn’t stand by and let her hide her head in the sand on the deserted island she’d created for herself. “You’re right that I’m not going through this, and I can’t begin to imagine how I would react if I was. But you can’t get mad at me for caring about you.”

  “I don’t need you to care about me.
” She sighed but her lips weren’t pressed into the rigid line of annoyance she usually made whenever he told her something she didn’t want to hear. He hated seeing her defeated and had a feeling that she would respond better to being pestered than to being pitied.

  “Well, too bad. I care about all the women I rescue from grocery stores.” The barest hint of a smile quirked her lips. “Now, do you want to tell me what your level was or do I need to need to wrestle that glucose meter away from you and read it for myself?”

  “Wrestle?” A spark suddenly flashed in her eyes and he knew the anger route had been the way to go. “I may not be as big and muscular as you, Kaleb Chatterson, but I’ve been trained in hand-to-hand combat and there’s no way I’d go down without a fight.”

  “Is that a challenge?” he asked, taking a step closer to her.

  Her eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared ever so slightly and he knew she was thinking of what would happen if both of their bodies came into that type of physical proximity. Because that was the exact thing he was thinking.

  He moved closer.

  “One fifty-eight,” she said in a rush. “A little high, but I got my insulin quickly enough, so I’m fine.”

  He let out a deep breath toward the ceiling. “Good thing you didn’t eat that entire cinnamon roll.”

  “You mean before you stole it from me?” She put her hands on her hips.

  Yep, putting her on the defensive was the best way to get her to respond. The problem was, with the slight hitch in her breathing and the way she was looking at him, his body was beginning to respond, as well.

  And he did still owe her a kiss. In fact, her pouting lips looked soft and full and pink and even more inviting than they had last night.

  He told himself not to do it. But when he took another step toward her, her chin lifted.

  He told himself that this would be a mistake. But when he cupped her cheek, her eyelids lowered.