“You don’t see any signs of fetal alcohol syndrome or anything else we should be worried about?” Connor asked, worry etched across his handsome face.
Molly smiled and shook her head. “Not at all. She’s never really shown any of the facial features we normally see with FASD. She’s in the ninetieth percentile for height and weight,” she said with a laugh as the chubby baby slapped her little hands on Molly’s desk and made lots of babbling sounds. “Her bloodwork has always been great. Her kidneys are fine. Her heart is fine. We’ll continue to monitor her, and you let me know if you see anything worrisome. But really, Connor and Haley, I think Rosie is going to be just fine. I have diagnosed babies with FASD, sadly, but they were very different from Rosie. I’m confident she’ll be fine.”
Connor ducked his head, and Haley smiled at her while placing her hand on his back. He looked up a minute later and took Haley’s hand in his. “Thank you, Dr. Mayberry.”
They all stood and Molly felt that familiar pang as she watched the doting parents. She loved her job, she loved the families, but most of all she loved the children. Babies were her weakness. Babies made her happy, but they also filled her with a deep ache that she had to force herself to not dwell on.
After they left, Molly made her way upstairs, ready to make her rounds in the pediatric ward. Two hours later, Molly leaned against the third-floor nurse’s station desk, making a few notes on her patient’s chart. She frowned, deep in thought, when Denise, one of the pediatric nurses, stood in front of her with what smelled like a pumpkin spice latte.
Molly looked up with a smile and took the cup. She and Denise had become good friends, and Denise regularly made coffee runs for the third-floor staff. That was another one of the things she’d come to love, working at a smaller hospital—how much it seemed like a family. “You are the best,” she said, taking a sip.
“I know. It’s from The Chocolatiers, a new addition to their menu for the season,” she said, wriggling her eyebrows as she made her way around the desk.
“Omigod, hot firefighter headed straight for us,” Denise whispered, a little too loud for Molly’s liking. She turned in the direction of Denise’s finger jabbing, but Molly already knew who she must be talking about.
She smiled, ignoring the way her stomach started fluttering and her heart started pounding. She was a grown woman; she should be able to control her reactions. But really, if there’d been a fan available, she might have considered using it. Perhaps it was just a normal response to the man walking toward them, like he was right out of a hot firefighters of the month calendar or something. Judging by Denise’s remark, he clearly had this effect on many women. Except he wasn’t staring at many women; no, those dark eyes were focused on her alone. Judging by his hair, he’d already shoved his hands through it a dozen times or so today. His navy SCFD T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and fit snugly against his biceps. His faded and worn jeans hugged his lean hips and long legs. She couldn’t look away, as much as she wanted to pretend to be busy doing something.
Since the other day at his mother’s house, things had changed. He’d helped pull her out of anxiety attack, he’d held her like he cared…but then had pulled back completely. That was fine, because he owed her nothing, and she had nothing to give him. But it was all getting confusing. She knew she couldn’t stay here. Doctors Without Borders was on her career bucket list—not getting attached to places or people was what she had done for the last decade, but now everything was a mess. She was getting reconnected with his family, with her sister, with this hospital…and Ben was making her wish that she could go back to where they used to be.
“Hey,” he said as he approached.
“Omigod, Ben is here for you?” Denise whispered theatrically.
Molly managed to shoot her a look before she embarrassed both of them. “Afternoon,” she said, raising the hand holding the coffee cup and taking a sip. That was a casual, cool look. Too bad coffee dribbled down the front of her mouth and onto her white jacket when she took a sip. She had serious issues with Ben and coffee. She had always thought that Addie had been the clumsy sister. Maybe it was contagious.
He gave her a grin that made her irritated and elated all at once. He was looking a little too amused by her spill and a little too sure of himself, as though he knew he made her nervous. “My mother asked me to stop by and give you an update. We just finished up with Dr. Barrett. It’s really good news. Apparently, the GIST tumor in her stomach had such slow-growing cells that it probably wouldn’t have done anything in her lifetime. So the good news is my mother doesn’t need any more treatment and she’ll be fine.”
She hugged him without thinking twice. He held on to her. They slowly pulled apart. “I’m so happy for all of you, Ben.”
They stared at each other, and it occurred to her that the lie was unnecessary now. His mother was going to be fine. She was healthy. So now he just needed the job as chief and their stint would be over. There would be no need to pretend anymore. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
She hadn’t told him about how her mother had threatened her. She hadn’t heard from her at all, but she knew that time was ticking and that her mother would demand an update. Molly would never give in; she’d never jeopardize his chances.
“I also came by to see if you wanted to go for dinner after work,” Ben said, lowering his voice.
Her heart felt like it was ready to burst from her chest. That was the opposite of stopping to pretend to be engaged. That was the opposite of keeping her distance. “I’d love to. I finish at seven. I just need to run home and shower and change. So, like eight?”
“Sounds good. I finish at six so I’ll wait for you at home. Listen, if there’s some food you want, just write me a list. I’m going to pick up groceries on my way home from the hospital, before work.”
“Oh…I don’t want to bother you. Really, we’re both busy. I’m fine with hospital food.” Denise made a gagging noise.
“Seriously, it’s not a bother. I ran out of apples. I need to go anyway.”
She chewed her bottom lip to try and prevent herself from making a judgmental comment about his food supply. He was a grown man. She snuck a peak at him, her eyes lingering on the well-defined biceps. Cleary, his nutritional plan was working for him. She did miss her normal breakfast…and it was nice to a have a snack option in the house with her crazy work hours.
He slid a notepad across the counter. “Go. Write.”
She nodded and grabbed the pen and paper. She listed out a few of her favorite items and handed him the list. She thought he’d just put it in his pocket, but he picked it up and looked at it. Then he turned the pad sideways, a deep frown between his brows.
“What?” she said, trying to hide her exasperation.
“Oh, I didn’t realize the whole bad penmanship with doctors was actually true.”
Denise laughed. When they turned to look at her, she picked up the phone, straight-faced.
Molly ignored her and lifted her chin. “I have excellent penmanship.”
“What the hell does this say?” he asked, pointing to the first item.
“Oh. Avocado. I like avocado on toast in the morning.”
He made a face and then pointed to the next item.
“Radishes. I like to put them on top of the avocado.”
He gave her a long look as though he had no idea who she was before pointing to the next item.
“Whole grain bread, make sure it’s not GMO and has no additives, preservatives, or sugar.”
He let out a rough sigh. “What does this say?”
She squinted and then turned the paper on an angle, trying to make out the next item. She snatched the list from his hand, not liking his smirk, because she clearly couldn’t even read her own writing. “Oh…yes, this…I’d like organic milk for my coffee. I really struggle with drinking it black.”
He did a sort of semi eye-roll. “Fine.”
“Also, can you see if they have an
all-natural hummus that doesn’t have canola oil or preservatives in it?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down. “Anything else?”
“Do you have a Vitamix?”
He looked up slowly. His expression was one of a man pushed to his limits. “No.”
She waved a hand. “That’s okay. No problem. Then can you look for freshly pressed green juices?”
He stared at her for a moment, and she gave him a wary smile and folded the note, placing it in the palm of his hand. He made no attempt to close it. “You do realize I’m going to the Shadow Creek Grocer, not Whole Foods? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a green juice in there unless Billy forgot to check the expiry dates and pull the orange juice on time.”
“Oh!” she said, remembering something else. He paused and looked up. “I heard there’s a new Perrier flavor, peach. Can you see if they have it?”
He didn’t say anything; he just stared at her. She lifted her chin, bracing herself for the remark she knew he was dying to make. “This is something people actually talk about? Like, who would you have heard about this from?”
She looked over at Denise, hoping her friend would step in and vouch for her. Instead, Denise shrugged and shook her head when Ben looked at her.
She crossed her arms. “Fine. Never mind.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll be sure to look for…” He made a choking noise. “Peach Perrier.”
She stifled her smile. “Great. What about the other stuff?”
He grumbled something about looking like an idiot during checkout.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get that,” she said, giving him her sweetest smile.
“I said I’m sure I’ll be able to find it. I have no problem spending three hours buying specialized groceries.”
She threw up her hands. “You’re the one who asked me! I told you I was fine.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s fine. Seriously. I have no problem buying weird food.”
“Oh, so my food is weird. This is coming from the guy who eats apples, donuts, and beer.”
“Do I look like I’m unhealthy?”
Denise was shaking her head.
She was not going to look at his body. It was a trap. He was going to force her to look at incredibly athletic, drool-worthy body. She was not going to take the bait. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “We all know you’re in average physical condition,” she said, waving a hand in his general direction. “But that doesn’t mean anything. You’re probably deficient in several vitamins.”
Her mouth went dry as he walked forward a few steps, a gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his gorgeous mouth. “I’m not deficient in anything,” he said, stopping an inch in front of her. She had to look up to maintain eye contact. She could smell the fresh scent of his soap, and she had to fold her hands together to resist the urge to reach out and touch him.
“Hm…I believe you might be deficient in humility.”
He laughed and while he did she admired the way his muscles moved and the sound of his rich, deep laughter. “Fine. Maybe. But I think that’s genetic and has nothing to do with my diet.”
“Whatever. Listen, if you get the food, great. If not, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Noted.”
“Okay,” she said, feeling like she was eighteen and he was asking her out on their first date. How was she going to survive the rest of the day?
It looked like he was almost going to lean forward, like he was going to kiss her goodbye, but then caught himself. “Okay, see you tonight. Have a good day.”
“You, too,” she said.
He gave her a smile and then turned, walking away.
“Ben!” she called out, very aware that Denise was precariously close to falling off her chair.
He stopped and turned around.
“Be safe,” she said, feeling silly.
He gave her a salute and a half smile before walking away.
She didn’t move until Denise made a squawking noise. “Did you say ‘at home’? Like you’re living together?”
She glanced down at her chart. “Um, something like that. Look, we were friends a long time ago. I needed a place to stay, and he offered me a room.”
“Huh,” Denise said, clearly not buying it. “Can you set me up with his brother?”
Molly laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
…
Ben stared through eyes that felt like they were on fire at the clock in his dash as he pulled into the driveway. It was nine. He was over an hour late for his date with Molly. Just the thought of walking into the house felt like it required too much energy. He was done. His muscles felt like Jell-O, his head was pounding, and his mental state was not the best.
He was glad Molly hadn’t been working the ER tonight; it would have been gruesome. He had no idea how she did her job with such efficiency. The other day at his mother’s house told him that she had issues with anxiety; an emergency room filled with any given kind of injury couldn’t be good for that. He had issues dealing with the aftermath of deadly accidents. There was no way you had a job like this and didn’t. He looked toward the house, not knowing how he was going to go in there and act normal. He wasn’t used to sharing or talking after a night like this. He hated car accidents where there were fatalities. It took weeks for the images to stop popping into his head.
Hell. He wanted a night with Molly so badly. He’d come to that realization after he’d pulled her from the panic attack he’d walked in on at his mother’s house. He told himself he was just helping a friend, he was pursuing what Addie had told him, and nothing more.
He was in no mood to speak a word, let alone have an entire conversation. But he wanted to know the truth. What happened at his mother’s house confirmed for him that Molly was hiding. He was helping a friend, nothing more.
He swore out loud in the empty truck when he tried to move, and his muscles protested. He opened his door, barely feeling the rain as it hammered against the top of his head. He needed a shower, too. A long, hot shower. Then a drink.
Before he got to the porch, Molly was standing there, in a gorgeous black dress with a look on her face that told him, without a doubt, that she still loved him and she had been worried about him. As he approached, he could see her eyes were filled with tears.
“I must look really bad,” he said, as he walked up the steps.
He expected her to agree with him, making a smart-ass remark, but instead she walked straight out into the rain and threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, feeling her body mold to his. He wondered at that point who needed the hug more. He held on to her and wondered how the hell he’d ever let go.
She pulled back slightly and looked up at him. He knew he looked like hell, he knew he was covered in dirt, rain, and sweat, but she was looking at him like she needed him, wanted him. Hell, if he wasn’t careful, he’d be falling for her all over again. He grit his teeth and moved back a step.
“Come on, come inside,” she said, closing the door after they entered the warm house. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone waiting at home for him. She was standing there in his house like she belonged there.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I need a shower,” he said, scrubbing his hands down his face. Too much had happened tonight between the car wreck and now Molly. He needed the shower and the whiskey. “I’ll be okay after that.”
“Hey,” she said softly, touching his arm. “Don’t worry about it. We don’t need to go out. Let’s just have dinner here. You don’t need to be going out.”
“I want to. I want to take you out,” he said gruffly.
“Another night. Seriously. Go shower. You’ll feel better. Also, I kind of knew we weren’t going out at this point. I called Luigi’s when I saw you pull in.”
He actually managed to smile. “You’re kidding.”
She laughed. “I had no idea that was al
l it would take to make you happy.”
He shrugged, his gaze wandering to her lips. “Well, one of the things.”
She looked at him with longing. “I hope you’ll like what I ordered. They knew exactly what your regular order was.”
“Great, I could really use that meat-lover’s pizza.”
She cringed. “Oh, yeah, about that. I asked him if their pepperoni and sausage contained nitrates.”
He inhaled sharply. “What? You can’t insult Luigi. He could cut me off.”
She patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I was really polite. I told him he should really consider switching brands. He said he’d look into it.”
“What did you do?”
“I ordered a vegetarian.”
He looked down. “God, no.”
She laughed. “Gotcha!” she said, pointing both index fingers at him. “Don’t worry. I ordered a vegetarian for myself and a meat pizza for you.”
He grinned, almost laughing, almost forgetting what he’d seen tonight. “Thank God. Okay, I’m going to hit the shower.”
She waved him along. “Go. I’ll fix us some appetizers of hummus and radishes.”
He kept walking in the direction of the shower, hoping her taste in food would help diminish his attraction to her.
Chapter Eleven
“How’s your pizza?” Molly asked, trying not to look like she was salivating as Ben took a giant bite of the loaded slice.
He wiped his mouth, chewed, and smiled at her. Then he took a long swig of beer. She finished off her…boring slice of vegetarian and took a sip of the…pleasant peach Perrier he’d bought her.
When he finished chewing, he leaned forward and took another slice. She might have sighed audibly. Then he filled up a glass of the wine he’d brought to the coffee table. He handed her both.
The Firefighter's Pretend Fiancee (Shadow Creek, Montana) Page 11