WindSwept Narrows: #23 Molly & Natasha

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “Ego preservation,” she acknowledged with a nod, handing him the large glass of iced water while raising her own glass to her lips.

  Jon took the obligatory drink, his head tipped slightly to meet the stare that had wandered to the window.

  “So I’m figuring you owe me, Molly Fielding,” he said after a few quiet seconds, very alert for sudden, dangerous reactions. He was right to be wary, her head jerking around and gaze locking on his. When she didn’t speak, he reached up with his free hand and slid the hood from her head. He was tired of looking through shadows. For the briefest of moments, a sharp panic filled her eyes. And then it was gone.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea since I seem to be accident prone around you,” she said after drawing in a slow breath and draining the remaining water in her glass. She was looking around for a place to set the glass when he removed it from her hand and put it on the tray of a passing waiter. “Thank you.”

  “I’m willing to risk it, Molly,” Jonathon offered his arm to her. “Dinner? Unless you’re waiting for someone and I’m treading on someone’s toes.”

  “Delicately put,” she acknowledged, nodding as if to herself and looping her arm through his. “I’m single, so you’re safe. Dinner, Jonathon. Thank you.”

  “Can you relax enough for food, Molly?”

  They strolled at a leisurely pace toward the fragrant foods spread out in the far room. The sound of a low grumble had Jon looking down at her in the silence between them.

  “Excuse me,” Molly felt the heat striking her cheeks.

  “A long time between meals?”

  “You don’t seem to have many boundaries,” she said after she managed to close her mouth and stop staring at him. “Verbally, I mean.”

  “I’m a naturally curious type,” Jon confessed with a grin. “And something about you just screams mysteriously intriguing.”

  Molly decided silence might be a good response so she focused on the plate he’d placed in her hands and the foods laid out before her.

  “I’m also taking a guess that you’re unaccustomed to a man who doesn’t take no for an answer, within reason,” Jon added with a casual glance around the table as they moved down the line. He made his requests and watched the ones she made, selecting various side dishes filled with vegetables. Until they came to the very rare roast being carved. Then she had them add three rare slices to her plate, a gesture that made him grin. So, something else to know about the woman at his side.

  She was definitely a carnivore.

  “I guess I’ve been too busy to care whether they liked my answers to things or not,” Molly answered vaguely, but she did look to the side, her gaze sliding along the leather clad arm to the squared chin and cheeks shadowed with growth. “How do you know Tanner?”

  He offered a soft chuckle. “I’ve known the kid for a long time. Since he first hit college,” he recalled with a little nod, thinking about himself as a very young officer training some kids in Army ROTC school.

  “You were in college with him?”

  “Now that sounded just a little on the doubtful side, Molly Fielding,” he chided with a mild tsk of his tongue. “Is it the leather jacket or the chaps?” He whispered, chuckling again when she jumped because he’d bent closer, his lips moving close to her ear. Tendrils of silver and gold teased the side of his face. But it didn’t have nearly as strong an effect as the scent wafting from the thick, fluffed platinum hair. He was positive part of it was cocoa butter and he almost gave into the urge to press his face against her throat.

  “Stop that,” she hissed with a ragged shiver and jerked to the side, her breathing slightly uneven.

  “Curious reaction, Molly,” Jonathon straightened up and gestured vaguely to a large glass of water. Maybe the extra cold ice would help get his control back. He hadn’t behaved like this since he was in high school! He was a cool, calm professional who did not go around sniffing women.

  “I think it’s the chaps,” she murmured just a little testily, accepting a tall glass of water and taking a long drink. She carried her plate to one of the empty tables near the windows.

  Jonathon followed behind, his gaze slowly taking in the encompassing cloak with a scowl. He waited until she had set the plate down before his joined hers and his hands went to the large clasp at her throat.

  “Let me help you with this, Molly.” He had stepped to the side, partially to avoid striking elbows in case she was spooked. The other reason was to trap her gaze with his own when her mouth opened to protest. For a brief few seconds her hands scrambled for the clasp at the same time his closed in on it.

  He was faster.

  And instantly felt like the gauche high school kid. The spit in his mouth dried up and he knew his jaw dropped slightly because he heard the audible snap when he closed it again.

  By comparison, the fairy outfit had been demure.

  Molly went still. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. It wasn’t that she was cold. She had a pretty high metabolism and generally ran hot, so the loss of the cloak actually felt good. She felt the edge of the table beneath her fingers and inhaled a long, slow breath before she opened her eyes again.

  Keeping the polished, calm demeanor, she slid into the chair to her left and lifted her fork. She really was hungry. Starving, to be honest. She’d had some late Friday patients to see and had skipped lunch and barely remembered her breakfast.

  “Is there a problem, Jonathon?” She had chewed a nice piece of the rare beef and sighed happily. Perfect, she thought. Then she was pretty sure her voice would work without cracking. She looked to the side, swearing she was going to remember to buy some clips for her hair that she could shove into her pockets and not lose. She tucked the long cluster of thick silver behind one ear, waiting while he pulled a chair closer and joined her at the table.

  “Is that outfit even fucking legal?” He gestured to a waiter and had two glasses of red wine in his hands, one of them drained before the waiter moved on to the next table. “Thank you.”

  “Since I haven’t been arrested, I’m fairly sure it is,” she answered with a shrug of one bare shoulder. “And Lacie didn’t get arrested, although Mason did seem a little relieved when I asked her to trade costumes with me. But she’s the only one here my size.”

  Jonathon decided after the last sentence, he’d better start shoving things in his mouth before he let the baser side of him take control. Again. He rarely lost control of polite, socially acceptable language. Especially around a woman. Manners had been ingrained in him from his father and never forgotten.

  He wasn’t sure what he was using the fork on because he couldn’t pull his male brain back into his higher functions at the moment. He was positive if Red Riding Hood’s grandmother had been alive when this version of Red arrived at her cabin in the woods, the sight of her granddaughter would give her a stroke. At the very least.

  The satin shorts were almost non-existent. They rode low on her hips and high on her thighs. She had long runner’s legs that shimmered and told him there was a pair of almost transparent stockings covering her. The red corset was the shade of an extremely vibrant velvet rose; a blood color that seemed to jump out all the more because of the pale flesh it was showcasing. And above the scalloped edges of the breast hugging corset, on her left shoulder cap was a very sexily drawn, brightly colored mermaid, her tail flipping and long silver hair flowing behind.

  “Are you reconsidering your dinner invitation? I can move to another table if my outfit offends. I’m quite used to people finding my choices and decisions less than proper,” Molly met the pale grey eyes with a curious tilt to her head.

  He shook his head, brows furrowed. “You’re serious.”

  Molly shrugged and sighed, enjoying the flavors in the creamy fruit and nut filled ambrosia. “I’ll have to tell Liliana and Fleur their food was amazing tonight.”

  “I am not embarrassed at the costume of my companion,” Jonathon said firmly, meeting the dark eyes without hesitat
ion. “I honestly don’t know what I expected to be beneath the cloak, Molly. And I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I was appalled. It’s been a long couple months and I’d planned to spend the three and a half day weekend doing nothing more complex than remembering how to relax.”

  “I haven’t done a great deal to help towards that goal. I’m sorry,” she said honestly, watching the lean features closely. “You didn’t have plans to attend the event, did you?”

  “Not until I met you,” he admitted frankly.

  “Are you always this direct?”

  “It might sound a bit on the trite side, but life’s too short to play coy games. And I’m a little too old for it,” he told her frankly, lifting the bread stick from his plate and biting into the fluffy butter and garlic flavor. “I don’t see a ring and I think before something spooked you on the first level, you might even have accepted my invitation to dinner.”

  “What makes you think that?” Molly dredged a stick of cauliflower through the dip she’d spooned onto her plate before taking a bite.

  “That you’re single or that something spooked you?” He leaned over, the cloth napkin in his hand as he dabbed at the side of her face. “I seem to say a lot of things that startle you. Somehow I’m surprised. I got the distinct impression that you weren’t the type to shy away from honesty.”

  “Nothing about you is making sense to me at the moment,” Molly admitted with a swallow, blinking down and realizing she’d finished her food. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  Jonathon leaned back in the chair, the glass of wine turning thoughtfully between the fingers of one hand. Nothing about Molly Fielding was fitting into any preordained slot for him, either. He doubted he would even have noticed her if her wing hadn’t smacked him upside the head. She wore little makeup; her hair was wild and fluffed out and most of her was bared for the public to view.

  Had he become that jaded? That stuck in a groove of the upwardly mobile sophisticate?

  And that’s worked so well for you, he heard the chiding voice in the back of his head.

  He felt the cool moisture of the wine glass between his fingers, wondering when he’d come to the conclusion that upwardly mobile wasn’t what he thought it would be. But he couldn’t find the answer and the word apathetic came to mind. Although the word his last wife had thrown at him had been boring.

  Boring was the last thing he thought about as he watched the red velvet clad Molly cross the room to join him with her plate refilled. And she was smiling at him.

  “I brought extra in case you’re still hungry. I don’t mind sharing,” she told him, placing her full plate on top of his empty one and sliding it between them. “Are you sure you’re alright?” She raised her hand and almost went to widen one of the half closed eyelids before she realized what she was doing and snapped her hand back. “Sorry. Reflex.”

  “You really are a doctor?” He straightened up, his arms on the table and fingers lifting one of the many choices she had on the plate for them.

  “You seem to find that hard to believe.”

  “When you first hit me and I grabbed you around the waist to stop you, my first thought was to hope that you were over eighteen and I wouldn’t end up in jail for the night,” he told her, one brow raised when she laughed. A bright, happy laugh that made her eyes crinkle at the corners and her hand rise to cover her lips as she chewed.

  “How funny!” Molly shook her head and offered a little shrug. “I’d blame the make-up, but it’s more likely I can attribute my parents for the collection of genetic positives I inherited.”

  “Do you live here? Or are you visiting?”

  “That’s more subtle than I’m used to from you, Jonathon. I work for the health center on the resort. I started a few months ago,” she told him, her mind momentarily going to the firm muscles she’d prodded on his side. She heard the woman in her sigh deeply and only hoped it remained inside. “You’re not from around here.”

  That made him raise a brow. “What gave me away?”

  “I expected to be called ‘darlin’’ any minute,” she said with a grin, the very slightest twang in his voice something that appealed to her for some reason.

  “And here I thought I’d mastered that,” he responded with a crooked grin. “Do you enjoy working for the resort?”

  “Very much,” she assured him. “It’s difficult to find a place where the mission statement is something they read and adhere to, not something that looks pretty framed on the wall. I get to be a physician, not a go between for the insurance company bean counters. It’s a good change.”

  “I can’t imagine it’s easy these days because of the bureaucracy involved in medicine.”

  “Some physicians…and people…cities…small communities are bucking their control,” Molly lifted a ring of calamari and bite down thoughtfully. “Little bits at a time. But that philosophy doesn’t help the patient while they wait for treatment.” She looked over at him. “You really ride a motorcycle?”

  “I really do. It’s relaxing and fun. If you manage to avoid drivers who don’t see you.” He was surprised at the casual way they ate from the same plate, their fingers closing over the same last piece of sliced kiwi. He lifted it when she withdrew, took a bite and held the rest up to her lips. “I know how to share.”

  “Thank you. It was a good dinner,” she sighed and leaned back, quiet as one of the floating waiters cleared the empty plates and glasses. She shook her head when he offered to refresh her glass of water. “Thank you.”

  “You can’t have been a doctor for very long.”

  “Is that a subtle way to find out how old I am?” She reached up, tucking the strands of hair behind one ear. The long, thick hair fell to the center of her back in a flattering shaggy style that fell into place when she shrugged. “I’m thirty-four.”

  “You’re not from here.”

  “I live here now…or I will as soon as I find a place. I accepted their offer and moved from Florida. So we’re both transplants. Would you like to join me? I want to browse the things up for sale,” Molly stood up and lifted the cloak, draping it around her shoulders and fastening the clasp.

  “You’re taking away my incentive,” Jonathon teased, sighing as the velvet fabric covered up the curves and part of her long legs.

  “They’re playing music and there’s dancing at the other end of the floor,” Molly stopped and met his gaze, her fingers still on the clasp at her throat. “Dance with me when we finish the tour, and I’ll carry the cloak.”

  “My, my, my…that is definitely incentive,” he grinned and put his hands on the clasp. He opened it and let one hand grip the cloak, sweeping it from her shoulders and draping it over his arm before gesturing for her to lead the way. “You don’t seem to mind my being direct.”

  “I’ve given it some thought and maybe I agree with you. I prefer honesty and you’re very direct. It’s a pleasant change.”

  “You prefer honesty but you won’t tell me what spooked you in the lobby,” Jonathon saw her fingers shake just a little as she reached to run them over a large porcelain vase on the table of donated items.

  “I don’t feel like allowing it to ruin my evening,” she finally said, moving slowly along the table and looking at the collection of bowls, jewelry and paintings. “It’s personal and I’ll handle it when the time comes.”

  Chapter Five

  Jonathon let the comment go, moving casually behind her as she examined the certificates being offered in the next section.

  “Are all the events similar to this one?” He asked when she lifted a certificate and wrote on the back of it, effectively removing the item from the market.

  “From what friends tell me,” Molly looked over at him when they reached the end of the tables. “The themes vary, and of course, the charity it’s designed to benefit. There are two for the library system, and the theme there is, naturally, characters from books. There is one to benefit the arts school and several others for the child
ren’s hospital and another for the area parks and trails. This is the fourth year and they’ve done really well bringing the care of local issues back to the area.”

  “You’re much more informed on the local area than I am,” he remarked, his hand settling at the rise of her hip as they left the area for the space set up as a lounge. The music drifted through the thick walls and he’d been listening as they walked, catching tunes that he wasn’t the least bit familiar with.

  “Have you been immersed in the new job?” Molly glanced up at him, the lights growing dimmer as they approached the large space set up for dancing and more intimate socializing.

  “Between the interviews and the last month of getting up to speed, yeah, I suppose I was,” he guided her through people standing and talking, around the small tables and toward the back where the bar was located. “Something to drink?”

  “No, thank you,” she settled into the empty barstool, watching him. “So this is your first weekend free since you relocated?”

  “I left the office at noon, changed clothes and went for a long ride around the coastal highway north and then back,” he told her after telling the bartender what he wanted.

  “You’ve been going non-stop since you accepted the job, haven’t you?” Her hand rose without pausing, stroking along his cheek. “It explains the dark circles under your eyes. They’re a pretty color of silver.”

  Jonathon took his hand from the bottle of ale and captured her fingers where they rested against his face. He didn’t know how long he stood at her side, his mouth pressed into the soft palm but it was the depth and openness he was lost in when he stared into the wide, dark eyes.

  “Tell me why you’re still roaming free, Molly Fielding.”

  She didn’t pull her gaze or her fingers from his and leaned closer, her voice low and husky.

  “You want to know all the revolting and reprehensible habits I have that send males running for the hills,” she said softly, her head tilting slightly.