“It does.”
The bartender brought a heaping portion of food and two plates.
Jake set one in front of Molly. “Would you like some? Best salmon nachos in Alaska.”
“Oh...um...” She stared at the platter, her stomach growling. “They do smell incredible.”
“They’re fantastic.”
Jake dished some up for her before digging into his own portion. The creamy cheese and salty chips went perfectly with the sweetness of the fish and the spice of the jalapenos.
“What do you think?”
“Really delicious.”
Molly licked her lips, and all Jake could think about was kissing her again.
Luckily, she raised her wineglass and held his gaze, a question lurking in her eyes. “To colleagues?”
Her words echoed in his head.
I trust my colleagues...
The significance wasn’t lost on him, and nor was the fact that her asking him to Dr. Dave’s dinner party was a big deal—another step forward in their relationship. Jake hesitated only slightly before clinking his coffee cup against Molly’s wineglass, not missing the slight flicker of guarded joy in her eyes or the matching twinge of hope deep in his chest.
“To colleagues.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“DO I LOOK all right?” Molly asked Jake.
Two days had passed since that night at the bar, and now they were poised before the beautiful carved front door of Dr. Dave’s mansion, perched on a hillside of Anchorage’s posh neighborhood of Coral Lane. The place was as large as her parents’ estate in Oakbrook, though this house seemed much more inviting—at least until she remembered that her father lurked somewhere inside.
The same pulse-pounding fear of rejection and the sickening doubt she always felt in her father’s presence welled inside her before she could stop it, choking her breath and making her palms slick. Molly was an accomplished physician in her own right, yet all it took was one pending encounter with her bully of a father to send her right back to the darkest, loneliest days of her childhood.
She smoothed her trembling hand down the front of her little black dress and prayed she looked sophisticated enough—the outfit was the only somewhat formal thing she’d brought. Jake looked marvelous in a suit, the scruff on his jaw adding a mysterious, wild edge. Seeing him out of his scrubs, dapper as Cary Grant in An Affair to Remember, did crazy things to Molly’s already overloaded nervous system. So she tried not to look at him often. And failed. Miserably.
“You look beautiful,” Jake said, his voice low and sincere.
Her stomach fluttered anew, this time from pure sweetness. Still, Molly had to be rational. This was a business arrangement. Strictly platonic. An evening between colleagues despite that soul-searing kiss they’d shared in the gym. Besides, getting involved with a man who lived half a world away would never work out. It would be foolish.
Too bad none of that seemed to matter a bit to her yearning heart.
Time to take the plunge.
Raising her shaky hand, Molly rang the bell. “Here goes nothing.”
“You got this, Bolt.” Jake gave her a little nudge with his shoulder and the shadows closing in on her seemed to recede slightly.
A stunning older woman with dark hair and a model-perfect figure, answered the door. “Hello,” she said, her smile broad. “Always a pleasure to see you, Jake.”
They embraced. Jake kissed the woman on the cheek, then placed a gentle hand on Molly’s lower back, playing the part of doting date extremely well. So well, in fact, that if Molly wasn’t careful she’d forget all this was pretend.
“And you must be Dr. Flynn.” The woman extended a hand to Molly. “I’m Sara Carpenter—Dave’s wife. I love your show, by the way. My favorite was Toe Fungus Guy.”
“Thank you. That episode seems to be popular.”
Molly stepped inside the house, thankful for the reassuring presence of Jake’s hand guiding her forward. Sara took Molly’s coat and hung it in a nearby closet, then led them down a short hall toward the sounds of a party in full swing.
The home was a perfect combination of rustic charm and modern convenience—an Alpine cathedral, with walls and floors made entirely of caramel-colored pine and ceilings soaring at least twenty-five feet above them. Oriental carpets and dark leather furniture helped make the huge open spaces seem homier. At one end of a spacious great room sat a giant stone fireplace, flames crackling merrily inside.
Molly felt thoroughly charmed—until she spotted her father, standing to one side of the room, deep in conversation with Dr. Dave. The sound of her pounding heart thudded loud in her ears, drowning out everything else.
Hands clenched tight at her sides, Molly did her best to maintain a cool façade while hoping to avoid her father for as long as possible. With a polite smile, she turned to her hostess. “Your home is spectacular. I’d love to see the rest.”
“Absolutely.” Sara gestured toward the nearby hallway. “I adore giving tours.”
“Since I’ve been here a million times, I’ll just head over and chat with the other department heads,” Jake said, backing away slowly. “Unless you need me, Molly?”
Though every fiber of her being screamed for her to keep him close by her side all night, she knew deep down that she needed to face this on her own. Besides, given the way her father had ripped Brian to shreds on a regular basis, Molly didn’t want Jake to face the same fate.
She forced words out. “No. That’s fine. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Molly followed Sara out of the great room and into a grand chef’s kitchen, full of stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. “Wow!”
“Yes, it’s a bit breathtaking, isn’t it? We hadn’t planned on going quite so overboard when we built the place, but Dave and I figured this is it. Might as well get what we want, right?”
“It’s amazing.”
Molly ran her fingertips along the edge of a counter, wishing she could lay her heated cheek against the cool stone for a while. A familiar buzzing had started inside her head and her dread grew. Random facts and inappropriate responses zinged like pinballs through her mind.
Please don’t let me embarrass myself—not now.
“Martha would have an orgasm and die in here,” Molly said, unable to stop herself.
Too late.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” Fresh heat prickled Molly’s cheeks. “What I meant was my sister loves to cook and would really enjoy such a well-appointed kitchen.”
“I understand.” Sara burst out laughing. “As a fellow foodie, rest assured I had the same reaction my first time too. I think you and I will get along just fine.”
Molly smiled back, her usual awkwardness disappearing with Sara’s genuine friendliness. “I hope so. I tend to rub people up the wrong way sometimes.”
“Really? Why?”
“When I get overly stressed or nervous I recite odd random facts.” Just one more thing her father had made her feel bad about. “Or I say snarky, strange things.”
“Well, I admire people who speak their minds—if it’s done with kindness. And I’m sure your facts are fascinating. I can’t imagine how a brilliant mind like yours works.” Sara linked arms with Molly. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
They viewed several bedrooms and a master bathroom larger than Molly’s entire apartment in Chicago. By the time the tour ended they were upstairs in a loft, overlooking the first level, and Molly felt almost calm again. From all the way up here her father appeared a bit less intimidating. But only a little.
Molly shuddered and refocused her attention elsewhere. In the crowd below Jake was working the room like a pro, shaking hands and laughing. He seemed so attentive, so genuinely interested in everyone in his life.
What she wou
ldn’t give to have him feel that way about her too. Not that she was in his life, exactly—not permanently anyway. A pang of sadness ached inside her—which was absurd. They’d shared one kiss.
A heart-melting, steamy kiss...
As if sensing her gaze, Jake glanced up at Molly and waved, his crooked grin making her knees tingle. She waved back, sending him a goofy grin of her own.
“Are you married?” Sara asked.
“No.” Molly gripped the thick wooden banister, wishing it was Jake’s arm instead. Amazing how fast she’d come to rely on his support. “Recently single, actually.”
“Hmm...” Sara pushed away from the railing and started downstairs. “C’mon. Let’s get you something to drink before you see your father. He’s been asking about you.”
They returned to the kitchen and Molly chose a glass of Cabernet.
“Must be hard,” Sara said, pouring a generous serving for Molly then recorking the bottle, her expression thoughtful.
“I’m sorry?” Molly sipped the rich wine. She’d not eaten since breakfast, and the next few hours would be difficult enough without getting tipsy. Not to mention she was on call for Bobby and having trouble controlling her reactions to Jake. No need to loosen those inhibitions any more.
“Having the illustrious Roger Flynn as your dad,” Sara said. “That must be very hard.”
Molly stared out through the expanse of window across from her. Streaks of gold, purple and indigo colored the expansive Alaskan sunset. She’d love to lie and say she’d learned so much from her brilliant father, that he’d supported her in her life and her career. That he hadn’t reduced her self-confidence to zilch and then blamed her for being too shy and having no friends.
Instead, she said nothing at all. Just gave a sad little shrug.
“Ah!” Dr. Dave walked into the kitchen, shattering the silence and making Molly jump. “I wondered what had happened to you ladies.”
“I taught you better than to skulk in corners, daughter of mine.”
Roger Flynn strolled into the room, and Molly’s oxygen seemed to evaporate. He looked the same as always—designer suit, perfectly styled silver hair, icy green eyes. Intimidating. Imposing. He gave Molly a quick air-kiss, not touching her, and her face ached from the strain of keeping her smile in place. In his assessing gaze, she saw judgment and disappointment. Par for the course.
“When do we eat?” Dr. Dave asked, oblivious to the electric tension in the air. “Molly, Orion’s Catering makes the best pot roast this side of the Rockies. You’re in for a treat.”
She tore her attention away from her father’s disapproving stare to focus on their charming hosts. Had her parents ever been that happy? Her stomach churned—not from hunger but from anxiety. Molly could barely remember her parents holding hands, let alone being affectionate with each other.
She swallowed hard around the lump of sadness in her throat. “It smells wonderful, Dr. Dave.”
“Hey, Sara. Got any pale ale?” Jake strolled in, his gaze resting on Molly as he stepped closer to her side, his arm brushing hers as he whispered, “Everything okay, Bolt?”
The endearment reminded Molly of their heated kiss and warmed her from the inside out—not enough to thaw the frigid ice caused by her father’s looming presence, but a start.
Craving his support, she pressed closer, aware of her father watching their every move. “Everything’s fine, thank you, Dr. Ryder.”
At Molly’s use of his professional title, Jake cocked a brow.
“Jake, have you met our guest of honor?” Dr. Dave said congenially. “Dr. Jake Ryder—may I introduce Dr. Roger Flynn?”
The two men shook hands briskly, silently assessing each other in a blatant display of masculine bravado Molly had seen too many times to count around her father. It was like Wild Kingdom—except in place of the bull elephants or stallions there were alpha surgeons.
“Pleasure,” Jake said.
“I’m sure.” Roger Flynn knocked back the rest of his liquor, and regarded his younger rival with cool interest.
“Dr. Ryder’s my Head of Emergency Medicine,” Dr. Dave said with pride. “Finest trauma surgeon in the state of Alaska.”
“Rather a tiny pond of comparison, isn’t it?” her father said under his breath.
Jake’s posture stiffened. “We’re the largest level one trauma center in the region.”
“Ryder cut his teeth in combat. Courage under fire,” Dr. Dave continued on affably, as if a professional gauntlet hadn’t been thrown down.
Molly was torn between wanting to see her father flayed alive for his insults and wanting to protect Jake from the man’s cruelty.
“You both have that in common. The love of adventure, the thrill of danger—”
“Here you go.” Sara passed Jake a bottle of ale, then gave her husband a Be quiet look. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Why don’t you all go mingle?”
“Dr. Ryder,” her father said, with all the friendliness of a frozen cod.
Once he’d left Molly exhaled and placed her glass on the center island. “I’m so sorry.”
“About what?” Jake looked perplexed.
“About my father’s behavior.” She shook her head. “I’m glad he left before things got worse.”
Jake still hadn’t moved from her side, and he stared after her father. “He’s...interesting. And pompous. But I saw far worse displays from the five-star generals and Pentagon bigwigs in Afghanistan. You want to talk egos? Go a couple rounds with those guys.”
“Really?” Molly’s breath hitched and the large kitchen seemed to close in on her. Oh, God. Not a panic attack, please. She squeezed her eyes shut. “You okay, Bolt?” Jake rubbed her back and leaned closer. “Is there anything I can do?”
“F-fresh air,” she managed to gasp.
“Right. Excuse us,” he said to their hosts, who had already moved toward the door, and then he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. “I’ve got you.”
Molly clung to him, appreciating his quiet strength and confidence. Brian had always mocked her panic attacks, claiming she only did it to get attention. Her father had always simply ignored them, considering them another unfortunate sign of Molly’s weakness. Jake, however, didn’t bat an eye, shielding her from the curious stares of the other guests as he guided her toward a secluded space off the main great room.
Gradually the pressure in Molly’s chest eased and she sucked in a much-needed breath. A shiver ran through her and Jake held her tighter, his gray gaze concerned.
“We’re almost there, sweetheart. Hang on for me, okay?”
“Okay.” Molly gave him a small smile, her heart aching at the endearment. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being so nice to me. I’m not used to being coddled.”
Jake got Molly settled on the window seat then crouched in front of her, lacing her icy fingers with his, stroking idle circles over her palm with his thumb, soft and infinitely tender. “After meeting your father, I’m not surprised. But we’re in this together, right?”
“Yes.”
His steady caress and the lulling deepness of his voice had her hypnotized. Molly leaned closer...so close she could kiss him again...
“Bolt?” he said, his voice huskier. “Do I need to take you into my ER?”
The mention of the hospital broke through Molly’s haze at last and she blinked hard to clear her fuzzy head. It wasn’t the wine. She’d only had a couple of sips. But Jake was proving to be more intoxicating than any alcohol.
“No,” she managed to say at last.
Her hand was braced against his chest, feeling the thud of his heart beating in time with hers. She took another deep breath and the room around her expanded again, filling with the low hum of chatter.
She smoothed Jake’s lapel and gave h
im a shaky smile. “I’m better. Thank you.”
“Good.” He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and grinned. “Now, quit thanking me. You can make it up to me later, Bolt.”
Jake took a seat beside Molly, his shoulder resting comfortably against hers. She had no idea how to repay him for such kindness, but the possibilities caused all sorts of naughty butterflies to shiver through her stomach.
“Dinner is served,” Sara said from near the grand fireplace. “Please, come into the dining room and find your assigned seats.”
Food was the last thing on Molly’s mind, but thankfully Jake stayed steadfastly by her side at the table. Catering staff bustled around, filling water goblets and placing plates before each guest.
Molly took a tentative bite of the tangy arugula and tomato salad with a balsamic vinaigrette dressing as her father regarded her with cool assessment from across the table.
“Tell me about your latest case,” Roger Flynn said.
After a quick glance at Jake, Molly relayed the medical details about Bobby while keeping his identity secret. “We’re following a conservative approach to allow the patient’s system time to recover.”
“Conservative only produces mediocre results.” Her father scoffed. “Where’s your ingenuity?”
“Ingenuity isn’t always what’s needed in an acute situation,” Jake intervened, his tone icy. “As I’m sure you understand.”
“Ingenuity is what creates medical breakthroughs,” her father said, his tone seething. “I would’ve expected more bravery from a combat veteran.”
Jake tensed. “On the battlefield, my number one priority was to get the wounded triaged as quickly and safely as possible. Not to chase the next big innovation.”
“Innovation saves lives.” Her father’s green eyes had frozen like Siberian emeralds. “Without pushing the boundaries, we never know how far we can go.”
“I was raised to respect boundaries.”
One Night with the Army Doc Page 9
