She was madly in love with a man who couldn’t love her back. And he didn’t understand that she’d love him whether he’d reenlisted or not. She could love him long distance or short distance or any which way till Sunday. Real love had the ability to stretch boundaries, and she’d already catapulted over a few.
When Emily finally had a chance to look at her phone, there was a flurry of text messages from Molly.
Call me!
It’s important. Where are you?
I hope you know this is more important than your stupid pilot’s license.
Emily pulled into her driveway and wasted no time in dialing Molly back. “What’s wrong?”
“Finally. I need your help. I don’t know what to do.” Molly sounded weak, sad and almost wistful.
“Is it Sierra?”
“No, it’s Dylan. He broke his ankle and they took him into surgery!”
“Oh, no. Did it happen on the job?”
“Emily, are you listening to me? They’re taking him into surgery. Surgery! What if he never wakes up again?”
Sounded like maybe Molly had been beaten with the truth stick. She still loved Dylan, which didn’t surprise Emily. She’d figured it was only a matter of time before Molly realized it.
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing. Will you tell me what to do? Please? How can I fix this?”
Emily sighed. “You can’t.”
“Fine, if you won’t tell me what to do, just say so.”
“There is nothing you can do, but be there for him. Sometimes bad stuff happens, Molly. You just can’t fix it. It isn’t anyone’s fault. I’m sure it’s not your fault he’s hurt. Please tell me it’s not your fault.” Emily squeezed her eyes shut. Molly had been known to lose her temper a time or two, but she’d never purposely hurt anyone.
“He fell out of a tree, the dummy.”
“You were there?”
“Watching Sierra. He was outside doing yard work with his chainsaw. You know, ‘I’m a man! I can make fire and operate hazardous machinery!’ And then he fell.”
Emily squelched a laugh. Probably the big lug had been trying to impress Molly, as he’d been doing as long as Emily had known him. “He’ll be all right, Molly.”
“But what if he’s not? What am I supposed to do then?”
Emily could spend several minutes assuring Molly that Dylan had a 99.8 percent chance of being just fine. He was young and strong. But there was something else Molly should know.
“No matter what, you’ll be okay, Molly. You’re strong. And you have Sierra.”
“When he gets out of surgery, I’m going to take care of him and Sierra both. If he’ll let me.” Molly sniffled on the other end of the phone.
“You still can’t control everything.”
“But you always said if I just planned better—”
“I was wrong, okay? You can’t plan some things. They just happen. Some things in life are left up to chance.” Like falling in love. Even when you had rules to control everything. Like crazy stupid love.
Rachel was right. Emily probably should make origami with her list for all the good it had done her. She was madly in love with Stone Mcallister, and there was no way it could end well.
* * *
LATER THAT NIGHT, the gathering of the Pink Ladies included a soon-to-be licensed pilot named Emily Parker.
“This calls for a drink!” Luanne said. “I’ll mix up some of George’s Po’man margaritas.”
“I’m sorry, Emily, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but I still think you’re dependable. Reliable.” Marjory patted Emily’s hand. “Sorry if that’s boring.”
“It’s not.” This whole embracing her inner wild woman felt like walking around in shoes that were a size too large. “I don’t mind being reliable. It turns out I don’t do wild.”
“I’d say you did a fine job!” Julia said. She’d been apologetic for weeks about the genealogy mistake. “You know, this family history goes both ways.”
“What do you mean?” Emily asked.
“What I mean is that sometimes we, as genealogists, get so preoccupied with the past that we forget we’re making history right now. And one of us sitting here tonight just accomplished something that her great-grandchildren will someday hear about. As long as we keep a good record of it.” She patted her book.
“Right. Can’t forget the record keeping.” Emily smiled and powered up her laptop.
“Also, if you don’t mind my saying, dear, can’t forget to have those children.” Marjory patted Emily’s hand. “Won’t have any great-nothing without first having children.”
“Now, now. Let her take her time and do it right,” Grammy, bless her, said.
“Of course!” Luanne said. “But when you’re ready, we’ll fix you up.”
“Great, Luanne! Is your nephew not married yet?” Marjory asked.
“Oh, no, not him. He’s dating a nurse. So predictable.” Luanne tsked-tsked.
Emily wasn’t ready now. She hadn’t been ready two months ago, but that was humiliation talking. Now she thought she understood true love, that rushing overwhelming pulse she felt whenever she saw Stone. It was a little bit of panic, a splash of helplessness and a whole pound of vulnerability. The other day she’d seen his back as he walked into the coffee shop and her heart rate had sped up into what felt like the triple digits.
There wasn’t anything quite like being in love, even if it was one-sided. That rush to the senses, robbing a person of rational thought. No way would she ever settle again. Never again would she have color-coded ties, assigned days of the week for making love and beige. No sir, not in her house.
“Unless you’re seeing someone...” Luanne still seemed worried about Emily’s impending spinsterhood.
Emily ignored her, navigating to the genealogy research site. But in the gaping silence, she looked up to find all three women studying her. “No. Not seeing anyone.”
“I, however, am,” Grammy said.
Emily froze. Every eye in the room turned toward Grammy.
“Am what?” Emily asked.
“Seeing someone. If anyone cares.”
“Why, you old broad!” Luanne cackled.
“Who is it?” Julia and Marjory said at once.
“George,” Grammy said as if she’d just announced what was for dinner.
But this was big. Huge. Momentous. “George, our employee?” Her friend George, handyman George. Po’man Margarita George. And Grammy? When? For how long? Emily’s brain fired off too many questions at once and none of them seemed to formulate as a complete thought.
Grammy waved her hand. “Now please, don’t you all make this weird. I wouldn’t have said anything, but now that Emily’s moved out, he’s probably going to take her loft, and I know how people talk. So I figured I’d just try to get ahead of it.”
“Wait. You mean he’s—he’s moving in?” Emily finally stammered out.
“I wouldn’t say he’s moving in exactly.”
“Sure sounds that way,” Luanne said with a nod.
“Good Lord, Jean,” Marjory said. “What will people say?”
“They better not say anything if they know what’s good for them. I’m an old lady, but I’m not going to stop living until someone takes me to the crematorium. I’m not getting buried, you know. It’s too expensive.” Grammy turned to Emily. “Remember. The dining room.”
Emily wiped a bead of sweat off her brow. “I’m—I mean, I’m—”
“I think she’s trying to say she’s happy for you,” Luanne interceded.
“Sure, that’s what I mean,” Emily said. “We’re all happy for you, Grammy.”
“Of course we are!” Julia said.
“That goes for me, too. Why sh
ouldn’t old broads like us have fun? That’s what I say!” Marjory lifted her glass.
“Thank you,” Grammy said. “Actually, it’s all because of Emily.”
“Me?”
“Look at everything you’ve done with your life. You’re about to be a licensed pilot. For a while, it seemed like maybe my life was close to being over, so I started doing a little housekeeping. You know, making sure my affairs were in order.”
There was a collective gasp in the room.
“No, no! I’m not dying. I think I was just bored. Thought I’d already finished with my life. I’ve had a long and busy one, after all. But since I’m still here, still kicking, I thought maybe it was time to do something new. And I haven’t dated anyone since Kennedy was president. Talk about trying something new.”
“And—George?” Was this an attraction that had always been silently brewing right under Emily, Molly and Dad’s noses?
“I’ve always liked him.” Grammy smiled shyly.
“The truth is, it happened to me, too,” Marjory said. “No, I’m not dating anyone! I mean, I started thinking and, of course, you all know my relatives on my mother’s side came from Madrid. So, I started taking Spanish lessons at the local community college. And saving up for that trip to Spain. Someday. You inspired me, Emily.”
Luanne stood. “Nobody laugh, but I’m writing a novel. Historical romance. I always said I would. Now I’m going to do it.”
“Wonderful, Luanne!” Julia clapped. “All of you. You’ve done something you put off for a long time. And all because of genealogy.”
“But actually, I never wanted to fly before,” Emily said quietly.
“You’ve always tried a lot of different things on for size, Emily, and maybe this was just one of them. It seems like you do enjoy it, and Pilots and Paws is a worthy organization,” Grammy said.
It was, and Grammy knew Emily had already volunteered to help as soon as she was able. They’d have one less pilot available to them soon.
“Is there something else you’ve always wanted to do?” Luanne asked kindly.
Fall in love. Crazy breathless I-think-I’m-going-to-die-without-him love.
But you couldn’t plan that kind of thing, and it just had never quite happened for her. Until Stone.
For a long time, she’d made excuses. Thought maybe it could never happen to her like it had to Rachel. Because Emily was just too sensible to get swept up by a man like that. Which was another reason to stay away from good-looking men, because they tended to do most of the sweeping.
Everyone was waiting for her answer.
She cleared her throat. “Actually, yes. And I did it.”
“What was it?” Luanne prompted.
I fell in love.
But instead it felt safer to say something else. “I learned to live.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ONE BABY WAS hard enough, but two were about to break Molly in half.
As far as she was concerned, Dylan was being a stubborn baby when he continued to act as if he could do everything for himself without any help from Molly. Men.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said for the hundredth time as he hobbled around the kitchen. “Just take care of Sierra.”
She couldn’t get too irritated with him. He’d sided with her against Violet when she’d come, bags packed, to take over the caring of both Dylan and Sierra. Molly had left it to Dylan to kindly explain to Violet that it would be Molly taking care of Sierra in his home while he recuperated. As for Dylan, he claimed he wouldn’t need any help, but Violet would be welcome to come by any time she liked.
“Sierra’s taking a nap. I can make you lunch. It’s no big deal.”
“And if I were an invalid, I’d let you.” He propped his crutch on the kitchen counter, keeping the weight off his ankle as he reached for a paper plate.
“And you say I’m stubborn.”
“You are.”
“Right back at you, buddy.”
“You want to make me lunch, go ahead. I’ll do these dishes.”
“No, Dylan, I was going to do those.” Molly sidled up next to him. The man was crazy. Certifiable.
“I used to load the dishwasher with Sierra on my hip. This might actually be easier.”
Either she let him do it, or she’d be forced to shove him out of the way, which wouldn’t help his ankle any. With a big sigh, Molly made him a turkey sandwich and put it on the table just in time for Sierra’s cry. Molly rushed into the bedroom and found Sierra with one leg over the rail, a big smile of triumph on her face. The girl was a climber for sure, with no fear.
“No, sweetie, don’t do that. Mommy will get you out.” They would need to transition Sierra to a child’s bed and soon.
“Dylan, she did it again.” Molly called out to him.
“What did you put down this sink?” Dylan yelled back.
Not exactly the flow of a good conversation. Molly rushed back to the kitchen, Sierra toddling behind. “What’s wrong now?”
“The sink is stopped up.” He hopped back to the table and sat down to his sandwich. “I’ll take care of that after lunch.”
“You will not. We’ll call a repairman.”
“Daddy!” Sierra said and climbed up his leg.
Dylan skillfully made sure she avoided his bad leg and settled her into his lap. “I can’t afford a repairman. I’ll do it myself. It’s not rocket science.”
“You’re supposed to be recovering from a compound fracture.” Why were men so damned stubborn? Why did Dylan have to act like being helpless was a curse for the feebleminded?
“I’m feeling a lot better.” He took a bite of his sandwich and offered Sierra a bite.
“But Violet said to keep you off your feet. She’ll kill me twice if she finds out I let you do this.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He narrowed his eyes, like the subject was irritating him.
She didn’t want to make him mad, but she would distract him if that was what it took. Distraction worked wonders for Sierra, and maybe it would work for Dylan. If she had to take her clothes off and parade around in front of him, that was what she’d do. It might even be fun.
A few hours later, it looked like the work would be done for her because, like she was in on the plan, Sierra wouldn’t leave Dylan’s side for hours. He had to sit with her and watch two episodes of Dora the Explorer, followed by the one-thousandth viewing of Frozen.
Finally, it was bedtime and Molly gave Sierra a bath and put her to bed. It was only eight, but she was ready to go to sleep with Sierra. First, she had to make sure Dylan was still watching TV on the couch.
No Dylan. When she walked into the kitchen, his toolbox lay on the floor beside the sink.
“Oh, hell no.” Molly ran to the sink, put her back to it and blocked it. “No way.”
Dylan limped over to the sink. “Get out of my way and stop being ridiculous.”
Molly didn’t budge, which meant Dylan stood directly in front of her, meeting her gaze. In his eyes, she read a resoluteness and intractability that pissed her off. “I’m not moving.”
“You’ll move or I’ll move you.”
How did he take a few words and make them sound so sexy? Molly took in a breath. She had to go all the way with this. Take one for the team. With that in mind, Molly reached up, grabbed his shoulders and kissed the hell out of him.
Strangely, even though he froze for a moment, it wasn’t long before he kissed her back. Deepening the kiss and grabbing her ass, the way only Dylan could do.
“Molly,” he growled. “What are you up to?”
There wasn’t any anger in his voice, only fresh and raw desire. Easy to recognize it since it coursed through her, too. “You’ll find out.”
She kissed him aga
in, threading her fingers through that thick hair, and then pulling at the top of his sweats so he’d know exactly what she wanted. She wanted him. All of him.
Sink forgotten, somehow they made it over to the couch, removing layers of clothes as they went. She’d often fought with Dylan over who would be on top, but tonight there was no doubt she would win this battle. She pushed Dylan on his back and straddled him. This would be quick, but she had a feeling fast was what they both needed and wanted right now. It had been too long since she’d made love to her husband. She needed him inside her, like she needed oxygen.
Molly tore off her top, and let Dylan catch a glimpse of her red push-up bra before she took that off, too.
“You’re killing me,” Dylan groaned.
“I don’t know if I can wait another minute.” She moaned when Dylan took one breast into his mouth and then the other one, licking, kissing and nibbling.
“The condoms are in my bathroom,” Dylan said between nibbles.
“Right.” She jumped off him and took the opportunity to pull off the rest of her clothes and her panties. Then she ran bare-assed into his bathroom.
When she returned, Dylan wore his sailor-on-leave grin. “Please let me see you run like that again.”
“Maybe later.” Molly smiled because Dylan had taken his shirt off, and this time she wouldn’t just have to watch from a distance and yearn. Instead, she took a tour of his body with her tongue, starting at his neck, working her way down.
“Damn, baby,” Dylan groaned. “I missed you.”
Molly wished she could say the same, but it was so much more than that for her. She loved him, pure and simple. And she was too afraid to think that this might be the last time they’d be together this way. One last hurrah. That was why she couldn’t think anymore as he thrust into her again and again. She could only feel the ripples of pleasure through her body, taking her away, lifting her to another time and place.
A place in which she’d never left.
* * *
WHEN MOLLY WOKE the next morning, dawn light was filtering through the vertical blinds and she was cradled in Dylan’s arms, too afraid to move. Too afraid she’d burst this bubble they were in. What would he say to her in the light of day? Would he tell her this could never happen between them again?
Breaking Emily's Rules Page 24
