Race to the Altar

by Judy Duarte

  Betsy poked her fork into her salad. “I really appreciate you being able to come in at a moment’s notice.”

  “I know you wouldn’t have called if you hadn’t needed me.” Molly took a bite of her turkey sandwich, thinking it didn’t taste nearly as good as it had looked just minutes ago.

  “It’s always nice working with you,” Betsy added, “which is a real perk for me. It’s a treat to have both lunch and dinner together.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you feel that way. But to be honest, I’m probably going to say no the next time I’m asked to work in the E.R.”

  “Why?” Betsy asked. “Is it bothering you worse than before?”

  “Yes, but not for the same reason.”

  Betsy merely studied her across the table, waiting for a better explanation.

  “I’m pregnant,” Molly admitted. “And I nearly lost my cookies when the guy with the lacerated hand came in.”

  Betsy’s fork froze in mid-motion. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone special.”

  “I’m not.”

  Betsy’s brow formed a V, and Molly realized that it probably had sounded as though she’d had a one-night stand with a complete stranger or that she’d gone to a sperm bank.

  She took a fortifying breath, then slowly let it out. “I probably ought to clarify that. I know who the father is, but I’m not going to marry him. It was just one of those things, and I should have been more careful.”

  The V in Betsy’s brow still hadn’t completely gone away. “More careful with birth control? Or more careful in your choice of men?”

  “Both, I guess. And now, what I thought was going to be a one-night thing, has turned out to be more long-lasting than I’d expected.”

  “I guess it’s safe to say that the sex was disappointing.”

  “Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.”

  Betsy speared a cherry tomato with her fork and popped it into her mouth. “So if the sex was satisfying, what’s wrong with the guy?”

  “We’re just…not very well-suited.” Molly placed her uneaten sandwich back on her plate, but as she scanned her tray, none of her other food choices looked too appealing.

  “Are you going to tell me who he is?” Betsy asked.

  “I’m not sure if I should. I haven’t told him about the baby yet. In fact, you’re the only one who knows. I’m not very far along, so I’d kind of like to keep it under wraps for another month or two.”

  As if on cue, Chase strode into the cafeteria. For a moment, Molly wondered if she’d conjured his image. Just in case, she blinked her eyes, but no such luck.

  He scanned the room, then, spotting Molly, strode toward her with a heart-strumming grin.

  Betsy, who’d noticed Molly’s far-off gaze, looked over her shoulder. When she recognized Chase, she turned her attention back to Molly and smiled. “Let me guess. Your one-night fling was with one of our patients.”

  “A former patient,” Molly corrected.

  “Well, if you were in the market for a daddy, I’d say you made a great choice. Genetically speaking, your baby is going to be one cute kid.”

  Molly lowered her voice so she wouldn’t risk being overheard. “Conception was the last thing on my mind that night.”

  Betsy laughed. “I’m sure it was. Chase Mayfield is a gorgeous man and a real charmer.”

  Molly reached for her napkin and blotted her mouth as though the movement could still the conversation as well as the thoughts and memories it had provoked.

  As the handsome stock car driver reached their table, his smile broadened, setting off a pair of dimples that could charm the panties off a woman if she’d let them. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  Molly’s heart took a flying leap, then made a swan dive into the pit of her tummy.

  Trying her best to ignore her physical reaction to Chase’s presence, she glanced down at her tray, wondering why she’d chosen such unappealing food. She pushed it aside, then turned to Chase and tossed him a wry grin. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”

  “Since when do friends stalk each other?”

  Molly, who’d made the comment tongue in cheek, let it go. Chase didn’t give off any weird or scary vibes, although he certainly seemed to show up when she least expected him.

  Didn’t he live in Houston? Why did it seem that he was hanging out in Brighton Valley these days?

  “What time are you off?” he asked her.

  “I’m off now. Why?”

  “That’s perfect.”

  Molly leaned forward and placed her forearms on the table where her tray had once sat. “Perfect for what?”

  “That movie we’d wanted to see is previewing tonight.”

  “What movie?”

  “The one we talked about at Cara Mia’s. We saw the poster on the walk home. Remember?”

  They’d seen several posters that night. “I’m sorry. I’m drawing a blank.”

  “The romantic comedy,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “When was the last time you went to a movie?” he asked.

  Molly glanced at Betsy, who seemed to be enjoying this conversation a whole lot more than she ought to.

  “It sounds like a good movie to me.” Betsy pushed her chair back and stood. “Have fun.”

  “Where are you going?” Molly asked, wishing Betsy would stick around. She liked having a third party to defuse any talk of romance.

  “I need to stop by the lab on my way back to the E.R. So I’ll see you later.”

  When Betsy left them alone, Chase said, “So what do you say? Will you go with me?”

  Molly really ought to hold firm, to tell him that he was barking up the wrong tree. But she hadn’t seen a movie in ages, and it was beginning to sound like a good idea. “Okay, I’ll go.”

  But there wouldn’t be a sleepover afterward. She couldn’t risk letting their relationship go in that direction again. And quite frankly, the movie was risky enough.

  “I’ve got my car in the visitor’s lot,” he said. “Did you drive or walk today? I noticed your bike back at the house.”

  “A guy with a mobile detailing unit came to the hospital today, and I had him wash my car.” It had saved her from driving across town, which is what she usually had to do when the car got dirty.

  “I’ll meet you at my house,” she said. “I need to change clothes.”

  “All right.” He offered her a dashing, look-who’s-in-the-winner’s-circle smile. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Then he swept out of the cafeteria as quickly as he’d swept in.

  It wasn’t a date, she’d wanted to argue. But there was no one left to listen.

  And like it or not, it certainly felt like one.

  As Chase and Molly walked out of the theater, he was in no hurry to end their night together.

  “That was a great movie,” he said.

  “I really enjoyed it, too. Thanks for encouraging me to go.”

  Maybe one day she’d thank him for being a little pushy and persistent about dating her, too.

  As they walked through the outdoor mall, he spotted an ice cream shop up ahead.

  She had to be hungry. He’d noticed how she’d only picked at her food in the cafeteria. And when he bought them popcorn at the movie and a couple of sodas, she’d only reached into the bucket once or twice and she’d only sipped at the cola.

  He’d also noticed that she was big on exercise, since she liked to walk and ride her bike. He supposed being a nurse made her health-conscious.

  As they neared the pink-and-white-trimmed shop, he nudged her arm. “How about an ice cream cone?” He’d expected her to balk at the sugar or fat content, but she surprised him.

  “You know, that sounds great. I love ice cream.”

  He placed a hand on her back, allowing her to enter in front of him.

  As he followed her into the sweetly scented shop, he was reminded of childhood, bubble gum and lollipops. Bringing a date to a place like this was
a first for him, and he was glad he was having the experience with Molly.

  A teenage boy stood behind the glass refrigerator case that provided a multitude of choices. “Can I help you?”

  “What would you like?” Chase asked Molly.

  “A single scoop of vanilla.”

  “Are you kidding?” he asked. “That’s too bland. Look at some of this stuff.” He pointed to a carton of olive-green ice cream with brightly colored speckles in it. “That one’s called Martian Delight. Now there’s a cone with attitude.”

  She laughed and addressed the kid behind the counter. “Plain vanilla sounds much better to me. With a sugar cone, please.”

  “You got it,” the boy said.

  She turned to Chase. “How about you? Maybe a scoop of Martian Delight topped off with some Cherry Bomb Freeze?”

  “I don’t need that much attitude,” he said, grinning. “But since I’m a chocolate fiend, I’m going to get a triple-decker rocky road.”

  When they’d both been served and Chase paid the tab, they carried their frozen concoctions outside and began the walk back to Molly’s house.

  The evening sky was clear, providing a panoramic display of constellations for stargazers wanting to connect the celestial dots. But Chase didn’t comment on them. No need to get mushy and romantic, he decided. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was almost magical with Molly at his side.

  “What are the chances that you’d be able to take off on Saturday?” he asked her.

  “Pretty good, since Sara just traded me days, leaving me my first weekend off in a long time. Why do you ask?”

  “Because my mom is having a little family party on Saturday afternoon. It’s my dad’s birthday, and I thought you might like to join us.”

  A flash of irritation crossed her face. “I told you,” she said, “that I don’t want to date you.”

  “I know what you said. I also know that you care about me and the feelings are mutual. So I thought you might like to meet my family. That way, maybe you’ll see that I’m not as wild and reckless as the papers have made me out to be.”

  “I believe you,” she said, taking a lick of her cone. “Otherwise, you would have chosen a more adventurous flavor of ice cream. Chocolate is almost as tame as vanilla.”

  “Not when you add nuts and marshmallows,” he argued, his grin turning into a full-on smile.

  They continued to munch on their cones, their steps slow but steady. She didn’t appear to be racing home, so he figured she was enjoying their time together, just as he was. And, interestingly enough, she hadn’t completely nixed the birthday invitation yet.

  He liked the idea of taking her home. Ever since his last brother had gotten married, he’d felt like the odd man out at family events. In fact, even when he’d been married to Pamela, she hadn’t enjoyed socializing with his sisters-in-law, saying they didn’t have much in common.

  Molly, he realized, was more down to earth than Pamela and would fit in with the Mayfield clan a whole lot better.

  “Where do your parents live?” she asked.

  “In Garnerville. It’s not too far from here. Maybe an hour or so.”

  She seemed to give his invitation some thought, which was a good sign, he decided.

  “We’ll see,” she eventually said.

  That was good enough for him.

  They’d both finished their ice cream by the time they arrived at her house.

  Chase wasn’t sure what to expect—an invitation to come inside, he hoped. But she remained on the porch, her back to the door.

  “Thanks for tonight,” she said. “I had a nice time.”

  “Apparently, not nice enough to invite me in for a nightcap.”

  She looked down. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Chase.”

  Yeah, well he disagreed, although he figured he’d made some leeway today, so he decided not to push.

  But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to steal a kiss.

  If there was one thing to be said about Chase, it was that when he set his mind on a goal, he didn’t take no for an answer. And he’d set his mind on Molly.

  So he cupped her face with his hands, drawing her gaze to his. The soft yellow bulb in the porch light bathed them in a romantic glow.

  “Let’s take things slow and easy, Nurse Molly. We jumped into the heavy stuff a little too early, but I’m willing to backpedal. And I’d like to come up with some sort of compromise—to make you feel better about a relationship with me.”

  Her eyes glistened, and her lips parted.

  That was all the come-on he needed, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Chapter Nine

  Molly knew she shouldn’t let Chase kiss her, but she couldn’t help it. As his lips brushed hers, she kissed him back, closing her eyes and losing herself in the moment.

  He tasted of ice cream, a heady blend of chocolate and vanilla. She’d expected him to come on strong, resulting in a heated rush and a heart-spinning demand for more.

  Yet instead he kissed her sweetly, gently. And while the public display wasn’t filled with the same hot passion that had driven her to take him inside and lead him to her bedroom, it still weakened her knees and stirred her blood.

  As his hands slid up and down her back, he nipped at her lip, and she nearly fell apart in his arms. Chase Mayfield was one heck of a kisser, and while he didn’t do a single thing that would have caused any of her neighbors to raise a brow in surprise, Molly’s desire for more was enough to bring on a flush and make her wonder if they should remain outside for all the world to see.

  When the kiss finally ended, when he drew his mouth from hers, she continued to lean into him, craving his warmth, yearning for something she couldn’t define.

  The kiss, as sweet as it was, had still left her unbalanced, out of breath and wanting more.

  Okay, so kissing Chase had been a crazy thing to do if she planned to send him on his way—and she still did. But he’d been wearing her down over the past week, softening her defenses.

  Leaving her vulnerable.

  Truth be told, she’d been missing him, missing this. And after such a wonderful date—a movie, ice cream and a romantic walk home on a star-filled night—she hadn’t been able to resist kissing him one more time, making a memory that would last through what was sure to be a long, lonely night.

  Besides, Chase had told her he was willing to compromise, which had to mean he would at least consider giving up racing. Maybe he thought he could do something less dangerous, like working in the pit.

  She could invite him inside, she supposed. She could suggest that they discuss the compromise he was willing to make, but she didn’t trust herself not to sleep with him again. Because if she did, she might topple off the ledge of indecision on which she balanced and lose her heart to him completely.

  For a woman who tried to remain in control of her life and her destiny, Chase was a real temptation to throw caution to the wind.

  “Vanilla never tasted so good,” he whispered, his warm, jagged breath taunting her. “No wonder you like it so much.”

  She didn’t know about anything right now, other than liking him way more than she should. More than was good for her.

  “Don’t make a habit out of this,” she said, slowly and reluctantly pulling out of his embrace.

  “A habit out of what?”

  “Good-night kisses.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t commit to that.” A boyish grin stretched across his face, and she suspected that had been his plan all along.

  Watch out, she warned herself. If she wasn’t careful, Chase Mayfield would be a hard habit to break.

  Chase called Molly the next morning and again asked if she’d go to the birthday party. She didn’t think it over very long before she finally agreed. After all, her child would be related to the Mayfields, and even if Chase decided not to be a part of the baby’s life, she wanted to know more about his family.

  By the time he pulled up in front
of her house on Saturday, she’d tried on several outfits, none of which looked or felt right. If she and Chase did manage to reach some kind of compromise, if they did continue to see each other, she was going to have to go shopping.

  She’d finally settled on a white blouse and a pair of black slacks that seemed to be a little tighter in the waist than they’d been the last time she’d worn them.

  Instead of being annoyed—or blaming the half-eaten carton of rocky road in her freezer, an impulse buy she’d made at the grocery store yesterday—she told herself it was because her baby was growing bigger, that the pregnancy was strong.

  She’d combed her hair and carefully applied some lipstick and mascara. Then, for the first time ever, she’d looked into the jewelry box that had once belonged to her mother and chosen a pearl necklace and matching earrings, simple but elegant studs.

  Having a part of her mom with her today brought on a smile, rather than the wave of sadness it might have stirred up years ago. She wasn’t sure if the pleasure had anything to do with Chase, the baby or just the passage of time.

  When she opened the door and spotted Chase on her porch, she saw a smile light his face. “You look really pretty.”

  “Thanks.” She didn’t dare tell him how long she’d stewed over what to wear and that she felt relieved to know that he was pleased with her choice.

  He nodded toward the curb, where an unfamiliar car—something red and sporty—was parked. “I finally picked out something to replace that Corvette I totaled.”

  A clammy shiver ran up and down her back, and her tummy knotted.

  She’d seriously pondered telling him that they ought to take two cars today, but she’d just about talked herself out of it.

  That is, until now.

  She’d always been uneasy riding in a car, although she pushed herself to do it whenever necessary. But she rarely rode as a passenger.

  When she was behind the wheel, she controlled the speed, she looked ahead and avoided danger. But as a passenger, she was stuck, left in the hands of fate.