Needing to change the subject, Noah looked to Nic across the table. “So, I hear you were born into the hotel industry, more or less.”
“That’s right. My father made hotels his business before I was born. When I got out of college, I joined him, working my way up the ladder. But by the time I came to Paradise I was ready for a change.”
Noah tipped his head. “Doesn’t seem like you got too far away from the family business. You stayed in hotels, just on a smaller scale.”
Nic grinned. “I figured it made sense to play to my strengths. But the big change is that now I’m in one place, setting down roots. Before, I lived out of my suitcase more than my apartment. Every time I got a new hotel just how I wanted it, I’d have to leave and move on to the next one. Now, when I fix something, make it better, I get to stick around and enjoy it.”
“Is that what made you quit and buy this place? You wanted to settle down?” He ate another bite of pie, following Mollie’s example and taking right from the tin.
“Basically. Buying the Sandpiper was my wedding gift to Jillian.”
“Caruso Hotels was going to tear it down,” Jillian broke in. “Nic knew how important this place was to me, so he bought it himself instead.”
“And I’m going to be paying the bank for it for quite some time,” he replied shaking his head ruefully, but gripping his wife’s hand where it lay on the table. The love between them was obvious, the kind of love that overcame whatever obstacles it encountered.
“It was a wonderful thing to do, and I’ll never forget it.” Jillian fanned her eyes in a vain attempt to stem the tears that were spilling onto her cheeks. “I’m sorry, it’s the hormones. I cry over everything now.”
Mollie got up and got Jillian a tissue from the box on the counter. “Hey, no crying. It all worked out okay. The Sandpiper is still here, better than ever. And now you’ve got your own home being built, and it’s all going to be picture-perfect. You and Cassie have everything so wrapped up I may have to run off and join the circus just to even things out.”
Jillian giggled, her tears forgotten, and he had a sneaking suspicion that had been Mollie’s goal. “You will not. You’re going to find your own guy and settle down, too. And I’m going to say ‘I told you so’ when it happens.”
Mollie made a gagging noise, causing every to join in on the laughter. But Noah wondered how much of what she said was for comedy’s sake. She’d said before she wanted adventure. Well, he knew a bit about that. He’d been known to pick up and move just because he’d gotten tired of the color of his apartment walls, and unlike Nic, he’d enjoyed the constant variety. Maybe he and Mollie didn’t have to end things when she left; maybe they could have some adventures together. She could come see him in Atlanta, or he could close up the studio for a while and take her on an extended trip somewhere, show her some of his favorite places. He wasn’t quite ready to go there yet, but it was something to keep in mind.
Jillian stood, a hand pressed to her lower back as she angled her way upright. “You two are welcome to keep chatting, but it’s past my bedtime.” She started for the private section of the inn. “Oh, and Mollie, could you give me a hand for a second? I need your opinion on the curtains for the nursery.”
*
Mollie followed Jillian down the hall, far enough to be out of earshot of the men. “All right, we both know I have zero opinions when it comes to curtains, so what’s up?”
“That wasn’t very believable, huh?”
“Not at all. But seriously, is everything okay? You’re scaring me.” Was there something wrong with the baby, something she did want to make public?
“I’m fine.” Jillian smoothed down the front of her maternity shirt, a small smile lifting her lips as she rubbed her rounded belly. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. The chemistry between you and Noah was so thick I could have served it with the pie. What’s going on with you guys?”
What was going on with them? “It’s…complicated. But it’s fine. I’ve got it under control. Just a little summer fling with a hot guy. After all, not all of us are ready to get married and have our two point five children.”
Jillian blanched, tears threatening to return.
Crap. “Oh, Jillian, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it that way. I’m happy for you, I really am. And for Cassie. But I’m in a different place, and I’d like you to be happy for me, too.” Wanting to kick herself for making her friend cry, she gave her a hug. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise.”
Jillian nodded and gestured towards the kitchen. “Well, then, go get him. And make sure you tell me every detail once this fling of yours is over. As an old, matronly lady, I need to live vicariously through you.”
“It’s a deal. We’ll have a girls’ night after he leaves—you, me and Cassie. I promise.” Impulsively, she gave her one last squeeze, then hurried back to find Noah and Nic bonding over some single-malt scotch, telling stories about their travels. Nic didn’t have a lot of guy friends in the area yet; it was nice to see him finding someone to talk to.
“Hey, boys, I’m off.” Standing on her toes she reached up to give Noah a goodnight kiss. The open display of affection had Nic choking on his whiskey—apparently he wasn’t as insightful as his wife and hadn’t picked up on the aforementioned chemistry. “Don’t keep him up too late, Nic. I’m picking Noah up at eight, and if he’s hungover, I’ll know who to blame.”
She needn’t have worried. Noah was standing on the steps waiting for her when she pulled up the next morning, looking rested and ready to work in a pair of jeans and a surf shirt she suspected he’d purchased just for this trip. Better yet, he had a cup of coffee in each hand. A sexy man bearing caffeine—did it get any better than that?
Idling in front of the inn, she accepted the travel mug he handed her as he got in. The bold flavor rolled over her tongue, waking her much more thoroughly than her alarm clock and a five-minute shower had. By the time they reached the turnoff to the rehab center, she was fully caffeinated and ready to go.
Her small car bumped over the hills and ruts in the gravel road, banging Noah’s knees against the dash. “You’ve have got to get a bigger car. If not for my sake, then for Baby’s.”
“Baby’s fine. He likes my car.” She darted a glance to the rearview mirror and checked that the big doofus really was fine. He had his head poked forward, trying to catch the breeze from Noah’s open window, drooling all over the rear seat. She’d have to hit the car wash again. And look into protective seat covers—waterproof ones.
“He’d like a big SUV better,” Noah mumbled, rubbing his battered leg as best he could, given the close confines. “Thank goodness everywhere on Paradise Isle is a short drive.”
She rolled her eyes at him and parked in the small, shaded lot. Directly in front of them was the main hospital and office building, their first destination of the morning. “Okay, everyone out. We’ll leave Baby in the office. They love him here, but he has a tendency to spook the animals.”
“Shocking.”
She elbowed him. “I told you before, it’s not his fault he’s big. But you’re right, he is a bit intimidating. Luckily the office staff knows he’s nothing but a big teddy bear.”
Mollie led the way into the simple wooden building, pointing out a small, tasteful plaque with the Sandpiper Inn logo near the door. “They had to put on a new roof a few months ago, and the Sandpiper donated most of the materials. Nic actually came out and helped with the installation, as well. Some of the animal enclosures are sponsored by other local businesses.”
There weren’t many people in the office at this hour, or really any hour. It was a bare-bones kind of operation. But Tara, an intern from the University of Florida, and Dylan, the director, were already hard at work, bent over a spreadsheet that, she was willing to guess showed too little money coming in and too much going out. It was always that way, but somehow Dylan managed to make it work. He had an MBA from
Harvard and a magic touch when it came to soliciting donations. His charm and good looks didn’t hurt, of course. Once upon a time, she’d had a crush on him, but he’d never seen her as anything but a friend. Now, looking at the bleach-blond hair spilling over his blue eyes, she didn’t feel anything. No, it was the dark, brooding artist beside her that had her heart racing and her girly parts keeping time.
Baby, however, still had a thing for the guy, and was currently trying to squirm his considerable girth in between Dylan and his cheap metal desk. The scrape of aluminum on terrazzo flooring made it clear Baby wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“Baby, stop that! Have a little dignity, for heaven’s sake.”
Ignoring her, the big pooch flopped down in the space he’d created, rolling over to beg a belly rub. Unfazed, Dylan, who’d known Baby almost as long as Mollie had, just leaned down and scratched the dog while continuing to pore over the numbers in front of him. “Hi, Dylan, sorry to interrupt.” She gave a pointed look at Baby. “But I wanted to see if there was anything you need me to do while I’m here.”
He looked up from his desk, as if finally noticing her. “Hey, I didn’t think you were on the schedule today.”
“I’m not. But I’m giving Noah here a tour, and figured I might as lend a hand if you needed it.”
“That’s right. You did say you might bring someone by. Sorry, it’s been a bit crazy here. Not that that’s any different than usual.” He stood, extending a tanned hand to Noah. “Nice to meet you.”
Mollie watched the two men shake hands and nearly sighed. They were both beautiful specimens of the male gender, one blond, one dark, both simmering with testosterone and some undeniable quality that made men so interesting. But only one of them made her toes tingle when he looked at her. Which, given the circumstances, was one too many. Still, she couldn’t help but hope that he’d see some of what she saw in this place, that he’d get why she came here week after week. Too often, she was the odd one out, the misfit, but here the animals accepted her for who she was. No one else in her life did that.
Except for Noah.
Damn, she was in serious trouble.
*
Noah shook the proffered hand, then looked around the room. The floors were bare, and the office furniture the staff used was thrift-store chic at best, but there were some hand-carved chairs for visitors and an amazing array of framed wildlife photos lining the walls, each with a name plaque beneath it. “Mollie says you do some good work here.”
The taller man shook his head. “Not me—I just try to keep the roof from caving in, sometimes literally. Our volunteers do all the real work. Like Mollie, she’s our official, but unpaid, photographer. The framed prints and postcards she lets us sell raise quite a bit of money, and she took all the photos on the website, too.”
So she was the one behind the gorgeous pictures hanging on the walls. Still listening, he moved in to get a closer look, a germ of an idea forming in his head.
“She also developed an operational conditioning program that’s she’s teaching to all the other volunteers. We’re incredibly lucky to have someone of her skill here.”
Mollie blushed. “I do some clicker training with the animals and taught the other staff how. It’s not rocket science.”
“What’s clicker training?”
“It’s a form of operant conditioning,” Dylan explained. “It uses positive reinforcement to get the animal to offer the behavior you’re looking for without stressing them out. Lots of trainers do it, with domestic and zoo animals, but some are better than others. Mollie’s one of the best. Speaking of which…” He grabbed a sticky note off his desk. “Since you’re here, could you swing by Simba’s enclosure? He’s refusing to go into the holding area, and Krissy can’t get in there to clean. I was going to try to make it down there myself in a bit…”
“But you’ve got your hands full. No problem, I’m on it.” She swiped a lanyard off a peg in the wall and waved goodbye to Tara. Dylan was already back at work and didn’t seem to notice them leaving. Noah would be offended, but he wasn’t exactly a people-pleaser himself when he was working. He understood intensity first hand. As did Mollie, who was already halfway out of the room, intent on helping Simba, whoever that was.
Following her to the back door of the office, he was amused to see that Baby had positioned himself directly under Dylan’s desk and was now operating as a living footrest. The big beast was so docile he was practically inert.
The rest of the building seemed to be a combination of an animal hospital and wildlife cafeteria. Chrome cages, several holding injured wildlife, lined the walls. He spotted a pelican with a bandaged wing, a turtle with a cracked shell held together with what looked like modeling clay, and a very small squirrel. Other cages had towels draped across their fronts, perhaps to shade the more nocturnal species from the bright fluorescent lighting. The back wall, where Mollie had headed, held a long chrome counter top and a large sink. Under the counter were several small refrigerators as well as storage cabinets he assumed held dry goods or other equipment. A teenage boy with red hair and freckles was busy chopping up vegetables, while another boy, shorter and rounder, weighed out the food and placed it in metal dishes.
“Hey, Andy, Tom, how’s it going?” Mollie greeted the boys, then dug into one of the refrigerators, pulling out a baggie of what looked like chopped meat.
“Hi, Mollie,” the stockier boy replied, a big grin on his face. His friend just nodded, his face blushing nearly as red as his hair. He wondered if Mollie knew they had the hots for her and realized immediately she’d never show it if she did. She wouldn’t want to embarrass them like that. “I heard Simba’s giving Krissy a hard time again. You going to help her?”
Mollie held up the baggie. “I’m going to try. If not, we’ll just leave that cage for tomorrow. No one goes in there, okay?” She waited until both boys had nodded their understanding before leading him out the back door onto a mulch covered path.
“So, what’s a Simba?” Images from The Lion King flashed in his head as they passed by wooden and steel habitats housing an assortment of wildlife.
“Simba is a very beautiful, very traumatized Florida panther. He was being held as a pet illegally until Fish and Wildlife got a tip from a neighbor.” Her stride quickened in visible agitation. “The man who owned him had starved him and used a Taser on him. He was terrified of people when he came here, and sometimes he still gets panicked.” She stopped at a large, fenced-in area, anger and pain radiating off of her. “I don’t understand how anyone can be that cruel.”
He kept his silence; as far as he was concerned, jail was too good for someone that abused animals. But saying that wasn’t going to help, so he just squeezed her hand in sympathy.
Beyond the fence a shadow moved, and he caught his breath. There, only a few yards away, a big tawny cat paced from one end of his territory to the other, eyes darting as if looking for danger. That such a large, powerful predator could be so anxious was just wrong; he could see why Mollie was so angry. It was disgusting the way some people treated animals.
Mollie wasn’t showing her anger now, though. She’d turned it off somehow, exuding a calm confidence as she climbed over the low railing along the path and worked her way right up to the fence.
Oh hell, she wasn’t going in there with the panther—was she? He’d learned to trust her judgment over the past few days, but every protective instinct in his body was screaming for him to stop her. But if he said something, she’d know he doubted her, and that would make him as bad as all the other people who had tried to control her life. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—do that. Fisting his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing her back to safety, he waited and prayed he’d made the right choice.
Copyright © 2016 by Katie Meyer
ISBN-13: 9781488002434
Her Rugged Rancher
Copyright © 2016 by Stella Bagwell
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