I check my rearview mirror to make sure Molly is still following behind me. I lean my arm against the middle console and wonder how the hell I got here. I’m in some small town, where everyone knows everyone, about to talk houses with my best friend’s sister, changing jobs, and don’t get me started on the images that keep flashing through my mind of her in a robe—just a robe. It’s parted down the middle, just enough to show a tease of her tits.
She might be completely unbearable, but she is beautiful, and any man would agree with me. “Oh, this is not a good idea.” I scratch the bottom of my chin and pull into a local restaurant. It is a beautiful day. The sun is shining, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Even though it is pushing two in the afternoon, the heat feels good. The temperature is just right.
Hot day. Sweat. Molly in a bikini.
“No. Remember how much we don’t get along.” Why don’t we get along again? We have been at each other’s throats for so long that I can’t even remember why we don’t like each other. It’s like we don’t know another way to act around one another.
I park, sending dust swirling in the air since the parking lot is dirt. When I step out of the SUV, Molly steps out of hers at the same time, and a big gust of wind slams her door shut causing her to jump and hold her hand to her chest.
“Are you okay?” I ask, blocking the dust from my eyes as another gust of wind blows by.
“Fine. It startled me is all.” She pops the trunk to her car and gets out the stroller. “Could you get Posie out for me?” It looks like it pains her to ask.
“Sure.” I pull on the handle of the back door, but nothing happened. I try the other side with no dice. I try the passenger side door, nothing. Driver’s side, nothing. “Shit.” I have one more option and I have a feeling it isn’t going to go my way.
“What’s wrong?” She unfolds the stroller.
I run my hand through my hair, then over my face. “The doors are locked.”
“What? That’s impossible. They can’t be locked.” She tries the doors again but finds that I’m right. “Oh my god… How? This can’t be possible. What are we going to do, Caden?”
I duck my head, so she has to look at me and then I grab her arms. “Listen to me; it’s going to be fine. Okay? We are going to figure this out. Okay?”
“She is locked in the car, Caden. How is that okay? Oh my god, how did this happen? I can’t breathe.” She gasps for air and tears roll down her cheeks. “He wants me to take care of her for the rest of her life? I haven’t had her an entire day.”
“Molly. We are taking care of her. Okay? You aren’t alone. Now, tell me. How did you get the stroller out?”
She runs her fingers through her blonde hair, the sun glistening off it, making the strands look like spun gold. “The trunk opens when I put my foot under the car. It just pops open from a sensor.”
“Okay, perfect. I’m going to fix this, okay? We are going to be fine. The car is on. She has the A/C keeping her cool. There is no need to panic, okay?”
“Okay. Yeah, okay. You can get her, right? Tell me you can get her, Caden.” She grips my forearms so hard, her nails dig into my skin, leaving indentations. And making me imagine her scratching my back when I thrust inside her.
Shaking my head from the inappropriate thoughts, I place my hands on her shoulders and stare into her eyes. I have to try to not get lost in them. The way the sun reflects off of the irises makes them look like pools of caramel. “I’m going to get our girl, okay? Don’t worry.” I’m not going to worry until I have to. Either way, Posie is going to get out of that car, even if it means me breaking the damn glass.
“Okay,” she whispers, wiping her face.
I have an urge to kiss her for reassurance, but I hold back. It is just the moment, not the person. Turning around, I run toward the back of the car, I kick my foot under the trunk and watch it pop open. Why does it open when the doors don’t? I have to get that checked out for her. If there is something wrong with the locking and unlocking mechanism of the car, it needs to get fixed asap.
Crawling into the humid trunk, I already start to sweat. I feel along the back of the seat, looking for some type of lever.
Bingo.
The backseat starts to fold, and I peak my head in as I’m greeted by a smiling, kicking Posie. “Hey there, pretty lady. What are you doing in the car all by yourself, huh? I have a feeling you locked the doors on your Aunt Molly. No more of that, okay? Hands and feet to yourself at all times, little one.” I am getting too old to climb into trunks and slither through the cab of a car.
Molly knocks on the window, gaining our attention. Posie coos and clenches her fists when she sees Molly. It is cute, something I never thought I’d say.
“Hey baby girl, did you lock me out?” The window mutes Molly’s voice a little, but she puts her face to the glass and starts to make faces at Posie.
It even gets me laughing, until I start to cramp from the awkward position I’m in. I press the unlock button, and in less than a second, Molly opens the door and unbuckles Posie. She has Posie snug and safe in her arms. “Thank you, Caden. I would have never thought of that.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m going to work my way up to the driver’s seat, turn everything off, and then we can all get our lunch. How does that sound?”
Molly buckles Posie into the stroller, making sure everything is secure. “Sounds amazing.”
Anything to get me out of this car. We need to get her something bigger and better. This car is too small, and it will get crushed if she ever gets into a car accident. And if Posie is in the car? Jesus, I’ll never fucking forgive myself. I can’t lose either of them. Even if Molly drives me nuts, I care about her. She is Brandon’s sister. And he is counting on me to keep her safe.
So, we will get her a Range Rover. I snort when I think about telling her we are getting her a different car. She will give me so much attitude. As much as her sass annoys me, it equally turns me on.
I stare at the space between the front seats. There is no way I can fit through there. Hell, half my body is still in the trunk. I reach for the door handle and push it open, wiggling my way out of the confined space. My back cracks, and I groan. Yep, we are getting her a new car. Hell no, will I be doing this again. “Hey, Molly?” I shout from the open door.
I hear the stroller roll across the dirt as she makes her way around the car. She sees me hanging out, head first, half of my body stuck in the trunk. I try to look at her, but I can’t crane my neck enough.
She giggles at my expense. “Caden? Do you need help or something?” she opens the front door, turns the car off, and grabs the keys.
“Funny. You’re funny. Wow, Maddy Molls has a sense of humor.” I bring up the nickname Brandon used to call her because she always seemed so uptight when I was around and hanging out with him. Looks like things haven’t changed much.
“Well, I was going to help you, but after that comment, I should just let you hang out of the car, letting the locals stare.”
I wiggle my body, gaining another inch until my hips get stuck, and I can’t move any further. This is what I get for saving a baby from a car. Figures. I eat my pride and hold out my hand. “Please.”
Posie giggles as a camera shutters. “You know, for memories,” Molly says before sliding her hand into mine.
“Right. I’ll be sure to delete that from your phone later.”
“Psh, you’d have to get past my passcode.”
Yeah, we will see about that. “Okay, just help me out. My back is really starting to hurt.”
“Stop being a big−" She starts to pull, but I don’t budge, so she decides to use her other hand, too. “—baby,” she finishes. She grunts as she heaves me out of the car.
I fall onto the red dirt and cough when the dust infiltrates my lungs. I groan and roll onto my stomach.
“Oh my god, are you okay? I didn’t mean for that to happen.” She kneels on the ground, her dress getting dust all over it and hitching up he
r thigh, showing a freckle decorating her thigh. I want to kiss it, lick it, and work my way up.
I stumble as I get up, but I right myself. Her hands are on my shoulders, balancing me. It doesn’t help much since I’m more than twice her weight, but she dusts me off, starting with my shoulders.
“Gosh, Caden. I really am so sorry. Are you hurt or anything?”
I brush off my pants. “I’m fine, Molly. I promise.” I see the dirt lingering on her dress and instinctually, I start to wipe it off, until her ass jiggles, reminding me I don’t have permission to touch her.
I clench my fist, holding back the urge to squeeze the ripe globes. “Uh, sorry.”
“It’s fine. I know you were trying to help. It’s fine. Completely fine,” she rambles, and a flush comes to her cheeks. I don’t know if that was from the heat, embarrassment, or me. I really want it to be me for some reason. I like riling her up—in all ways, it seems.
“Well, how about we go inside and get something to eat? I’ve worked up an appetite.” I slap my stomach, trying to defer the tension between us.
She tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear and wraps her hands around the handles of the stroller. “Yeah, definitely. I’m starved after a day like today.”
I shut the back door and lean against it. My phone buzzes and the hospital’s number flashes across the screen. “Hey, I have to take this. It’s work. Why don’t you and Posie get us a table outside since it is such a nice day out?”
Her smile does something to me. My breath hitches and I want to ignore the feeling of the warmth coursing through my veins instead of annoyance or a smart ass remark. So I do, because not only do I not want her smile to do things to me, I can’t disrespect Brandon like that.
“Sure, no problem. I’ll get you a water and lemon—”
“With a—”
“—Spritz of club soda, I know.” She waves at me as she walked away. “I’ve known you a long time, Caden. I know what kind of drink you like.”
That makes me feel like an ass because I have no idea what she drinks. I watch the two people that changed my life overnight, walk through the doors of the restaurant. I feel like someone else, like I am living someone else’s life. I don’t recognize these shoes. They feel foreign, but I know I have to keep walking, because it is expected of me.
My hand tingles from the phone buzzing again. I sigh, kicking at the dirt. I hate this hospital. I hate the reason I have to transfer, but I’m glad it has to happen. “Dr. Jackson speaking,” I answer, watching the locals walk by. There are a lot of cowboy hats.
“Dr. Jackson, when will you be back? Are you done with your little vacation?” the Chief of Neuro sneers into the receiver.
Molly’s hair pulls me from the vile thoughts I have about the man on the other end of the line. I’ve never noticed how shiny her hair is. Why haven’t I ever noticed her?
“Are you listening to me?”
No. Not really.
“Sure, burying my friend is such a relaxing vacation. And you know when I’ll be back. I put it on the schedule. Please, stop calling me. Do your damn job yourself.” I never talk back to my superior, but I am not in the mood for his shit. He knows I am better than him. Better man, better doctor, better surgeon. And he hates it.
“I could have you fired for talking to me like that!”
I scoff. “Please. You and I both know more than half the patients that come to that hospital do so because of me. I bring the changes. I bring the technique. Plus, you’ll have to replace me soon. Have fun with that.”
He stutters for a moment, and I hang up on him, not giving him time to ask what I mean. He can dwell on it for all I care. It will make him crazy. I turn my phone off, shove it in my pocket, and look up to see Molly staring at me. Her hand blocks the sun and her brows are pinched together. From the sun? Or maybe concern?
Who knows.
I don’t know shit anymore, apparently.
Chapter Twelve
Molly
Kenna blows a puff of smoke, tapping her cigarette on the ashtray. “So, what? You’re going to go there and play house? I don’t know, Molls. You and Caden have never gotten along.”
I sip the strawberry margarita she made, licking the sugar off the rim. I stare at her as she takes another inhale off the cigarette, tilting her head back and fogging up the air above her. “You’re going to kill yourself with those things. It’s a gross habit.”
She kicks her feet up on the stool in front of her and takes another hit. “So you’ve said a hundred times. Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not. I’m just making an observation. Smoking is gross. You need to stop doing it. It causes cancer.”
Kenna stares at me and curls her lips in a sarcastic smile. “Everything causes cancer, Molls. I’m not too worried about it.”
“Well, you might not be, but I am.” I finish off my glass and pour myself another marg. I hate that she does that to herself. Kenna’s life isn’t the same as mine. She had a rough start in life, and throughout life, and now it is kind of the path she meanders on. She isn’t a bad person. She is amazing. She does so many wonderful things.
I just hate that she feels like she isn’t good enough for anything, no matter how much good she does for the people around her. When Kenna was five, her mother died, leaving her with just her dad. No one knew this but me, but he was Vice President of a ruthless motorcycle club in Billings. He was involved in a lot of dirty deeds, both in and out of prison, but he loved Kenna. Even though he did a lot of wrong, he did it all for her, and in a twisted way, it was the best he could do.
He is in prison right now actually, along with the rest of the gang. I don’t know why and neither does Kenna, but since he’s serving twenty-five years, I’m assuming whatever it is for, it isn’t good. He went to jail when she was sixteen, so he has already served eleven years, and during that time, she has stayed with me and my parents. That was how she and Brandon got so close.
“Stop worrying so much about me. I’m going to be fine. I always am.” She blows another cloud of nasty smelling smoke.
I lift my hands in surrender. “Fine. You win.” But I’ll never stop worrying. I know the kind of people that come up to her, and other gangs around know who she is and always try to recruit her. She always says no, and that she never wants to be a part of it, but a part of me always wonders if she will take them up on their offer, since it is the only world she really knows.
“Alright, then. You can explain to me why the hell you are packing up and moving to Glendive. What the fuck is in Glendive for you to make it permanent? A fucking gas station? If I remember correctly.”
Oh, yeah. Kenna has a mouth on her worse than a sailor’s.
“It isn’t that bad. It is really beautiful. And Brandon asked us to. He wants Posie to have two parents. We have to follow the rules.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She slams her heavy boots on the porch. “He has Posie right now. There is no reason why you guys couldn’t make that a permanent thing. Brandon knew this couldn’t work. It can’t work. You guys will kill each other in less than a week.”
“Brandon wrote in his will that if we don’t live there within the next three weeks, Posie goes to my mom and dad.”
“And would that be such a bad thing?”
“Yes. Brandon said they have the right to be grandparents, not to be parents all over again. I want to do what he wanted. Literally, it was what he wanted in death, Kenna. I can’t ignore that.”
She takes another hit off that damn cancer stick and blows out smoke as she sighs. “I know, okay? I know that. I’ll just miss you.”
“Come with me.” I sit my drink down and steal the cigarette from her fingers and put it out in the ashtray.
“Ah, come on. Those are expensive.”
“So is cancer treatment.”
She rolls her eyes. “I can’t come with you. You know why.” She packs her carton against the palm of her hand before taking out another cigarette.
I sigh, taking my drink in my hand and leaning back in my chair. “I know. I’m going to miss you is all.” I down a big gulp of the strawberry mix, watching the sunset. It douses the sky in an array of oranges, pinks, and reds. The stars peak out, trying to push the night onto us.
We stay silent for a few moments, and her tattooed-covered hand holds mine. “I’m going to be worried sick about you in that house.”
I flip her hand over, staring at the blank palm. It has to be the only patch of skin on her body that doesn’t have a tattoo. I turn it back over, staring at an angry face of a wolf. Its mouth is open, showing teeth and tongue, dripping with saliva. It reminds me of her. Ready to fight. Ready to protect those she loves. “Why? I’ll be fine.”
“It’s him. I know there is a crazy amount of sexual tension there, because look at him, and look at you. Two beautiful people are going to be attracted to each other. I’m just afraid he is going to break your heart.”
I nearly spit out my drink. I choke a little, finding it hard to swallow my beverage. “What? Him? No way. And I’m not attracted to him, jerk.”
“Please. I’m even attracted to him. Have you seen him? We are looking at the same guy, right?” She snorts, taking another hit off that damn stick. I want to rip it from her mouth.
“Then you go for it.”
“Ha, nice try. Don’t be coy. We all know how fucking stunning he is. With the hair like that dude from Grey’s Anatomy.”
“You watch Grey’s Anatomy? Kenna! How did I not know this?”
“Shut up. I don’t like to talk about it,” she mutters, hiding her face as she takes a drink.
“Oh my god. You have been hiding this from me.”
Unexpected Gift Page 8