The Firefighter's Pretend Fiancee (Shadow Creek, Montana)

by Victoria James

  “Seriously? Have you told Mom?”

  She groaned. “No. I’m not speaking to her, but I’m sure news will travel fast and she’ll hear about. I’m kind of banking on her being upset.”

  Her sister smiled sympathetically. “I know she’s hard to get along with still. I try to keep our conversations brief, because if not, I usually end up questioning my life and self-worth and then consuming my weight in ice cream.”

  Molly laughed. “Yeah, well next time, count me in on the ice cream binge.”

  “Definitely. You have a lot going on. It’ll be okay. I can totally help you out with Mom, and if Ben drives you crazy, I have room upstairs at my place. It’ll be like one of our old sleepovers,” she said.

  That familiar pang of longing and regret hit her again. The three of them would always camp out in one of their rooms on the weekend. They did have the best sleepovers. “Thanks, Addie,” she said rising. “I should get going. I just remembered I left the coffees in my car. They must be freezing.”

  Addie stood up and walked her to the door. “No problem. I’d make you some fresh ones, but I’m not set up yet.”

  “No worries. If you need help with anything, let me know.”

  Addie reached out and gave her a hug. Molly hugged her back, surprised by how much she needed that affection, that warmth. “I’ll stop by as soon as I have a free minute.”

  Molly left her sister and walked to her car. She pulled out her phone to see that Ben had texted back with nothing but the address to his house.

  Half an hour later she was pulling into the driveway of a one-story ranch house. It had a gorgeous view of the mountains in the back, and the land went on for miles. The last house she’d passed had been over five minutes ago. She took a deep breath and picked up the tray of coffee and her purse and made her way up the driveway.

  She paused as the quickly moving clouds seemed to swim across the sky, a swirl of gray and white. Some of them looked as though they were enveloped into the mountains while others looked ready to unleash a storm. How many times had she looked up into this sky? There was nothing quite like it. She took a deep breath, the scent of rain and clean air filling her lungs. The land was rugged and suited Ben perfectly.

  As she made her way up the long driveway, the pattering of rain hit the ground. She noticed there was a single truck in the driveway, and the idea that Finn wasn’t here filled her with dread. It would mean she was going to be alone with Ben. Even though she felt like kicking Finn in the shins for the predicament he’d gotten her into, he was easygoing and funny and eased the tension between the two of them.

  She made her way up the walkway with trepidation. Ben answered the door right away, and her mouth watered immediately, as though she’d just opened the box on a pepperoni pizza. His dark hair was damp and already dishevelled, and he was wearing those jeans and T-shirt again. He hadn’t shaved, and he looked so masculine and so beautiful that she was caught off guard. There wasn’t a hint of the boy she remembered. “Hi,” she said, dread filling her as the reality of their situation hit her.

  He held the door open wider, and she walked in. “Hi.”

  They didn’t say anything for a moment, and she had no idea what to say to him. She looked up at him and winced when she didn’t see an ounce of softening. “Ben, is there another way to do this? Can we get out of this? I don’t know how we’re going to live under the same roof and pretend like…we’re in love.”

  His jaw clenched, and there was still no softening. “I know you have issues keeping promises, but it’s too late to back out now. Unless you want to tell my mother you broke off our relationship yet again. Besides, I seem to recall you jumping at the chance to move in here.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her. “What choice did I have?”

  He didn’t say anything, just gave her one of those long stares that made it clear what he thought of her.

  She blinked furiously and turned away from him, looking around. He had made this place his home. At one time, they had imagined what it would be like to create a home for the two of them. There was nothing she would have wanted more. She needed to apologize. Again. It was the only way they had a decent shot at surviving this. Maybe that was it; maybe they could come out of this as friends, and he’d be able to forgive her.

  She took a deep breath and looked into his dark eyes, wanting desperately to see that look he used to give her, when a corner of his mouth would turn up with laughter, when his brown eyes would sparkle. Instead, the man in front of her was hard and unyielding, and nothing like her Ben. “I…I know you don’t care or it’ll never be enough, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way I treated you.”

  He ran a hand over his jaw, his eyes not warming. “You cheated on me. You refused to see me or talk to me.”

  She lowered her head, shame and regret making it impossible to keep looking at him. She hated being accused of being a cheater because it wasn’t true; it was all part of the giant lie she’d told to make him never want anything to do with her again. She was ashamed of the way she had to end things and regretted not trusting him enough with the truth. She regretted listening to her mother’s advice and taking the coward’s way out. But it would be too late to tell him the truth now, and her truth was something she’d never shared with anyone, except her mother and the therapist she’d seen for nine years. She needed to find someone new in town. She’d learned to cope with her PTSD so that it didn’t take over her life anymore, but stress was a trigger. She drew a shaky breath and looked up. “I’m sorry,” she choked out again.

  He looked up at the ceiling for a second. “I’ll never be able to understand.” He smiled for a second, a sad, ironic kind of smile. “You told me you weren’t ready to have sex, and I respected that. We were together, we were serious, we were going to get married. And then you suddenly tell me you fell in love with some guy in your program and you were sleeping with him.”

  Hot tears burned her eyes as she stood there and took the blame for something that wasn’t true. But for him it was; it was the lie she’d told him. “I’m sorry.” She realized she was wringing her hands, a pattern she’d started when she was stressed. She counted backward from twenty and slowly forced her hands apart.

  He shrugged and turned away from her, crossing the room to the kitchen. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not going to bring this up again. The past is in the past.”

  The door opened, and she quickly tried to wipe the tears from her eyes as Finn walked in. He took one look at her and then glared at Ben. “Seriously? She’s been here for like five minutes and you made her cry?”

  She waved a hand at him. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Here, I hope you like cold coffee,” she said, handing him the tray and trying to look composed.

  …

  “I love cold coffee,” his shit-disturber brother said, taking a swig.

  Ben tried to reduce the wattage of his glare because the truth was he felt like an ass. It bothered him to see Molly cry. He wasn’t the guy who made women cry or treated them like crap, and now he was in this position and he was acting like someone he didn’t even know. But maybe he was mad at himself most of all, because it was clear Molly still affected him. They’d been kids—she’d only been twenty, and he’d been twenty-three. It had crushed him, though. He hadn’t been able to get over her for a year. He thought she was the one for him, for the rest of his life. He would have done anything for Molly, and he hadn’t seen that betrayal coming.

  After that, it took him years to get involved with a woman. But as the years passed, he knew he wasn’t going to let what happen to him ruin his life plans. The only problem was, he’d never found someone he wanted to move on with seriously.

  He glanced over at his brother who was cringing as he drank the cold coffee—served him right. Then he glanced at Molly, and his gut clenched because he could still see the hurt on her beautiful face. She was standing on the front rug with her coat still on. She hadn’t asked for any of this. She hadn’t asked for a r
elationship with him or a second chance. She was clearly sorry for their past and her behavior. They were adults now; it was time to move on. They didn’t have to be best friends, but he was going to have to be civil.

  “Do you have boxes or bags in the car I can get?” he asked, walking over to them.

  “Oh, I can manage,” she said, averting her eyes, and he felt like a bigger ass than before.

  “It’s not a problem. I’ll get them,” he said, his hand on the door knob. “Finn, you can leave. Don’t you have a shift today?”

  Finn grinned. “I’ll show Molly around while you tend to the luggage.”

  He made sure to shove his brother slightly as he walked out the door, but he was rewarded by hearing his dumb laugh. He grabbed the two large pieces of luggage in the back of Molly’s car and brought them back in the house. His brother was giving her a tour of the place, and he fought the urge to interrupt as he heard Finn telling Molly how he wasn’t too fond of Ben’s decorating style. Neither he nor his brother had ever discussed decorating. In fact, he didn’t even think he’d ever used the word in a sentence.

  He wheeled her suitcases into the spare bedroom, trying to ignore his brother’s voice. But then he was hit with the image of Molly crying in front of him, telling him she was sorry. It shouldn’t have affected him, but it did. He was coming to terms with the fact that he was going to have to let it go. She was young, she had been away at school, and she regretted it. He could see that she was genuinely sorry. Maybe she just hadn’t loved him enough; maybe she’d realized they weren’t meant to be together.

  “Oh, hey,” he said, when he heard Molly approach. “Is this okay for your room?”

  She nodded, looking inside. “It’s great. You know it’s not too late to back out of this. I have weird hours with work and don’t want to impose.”

  He shrugged. “Hopefully in a month or so, my mother will be back on her feet, and we can slowly get ourselves out of this hot mess Finn got us into,” he said, giving his brother a pointed look as he approached.

  “Well, I’ll leave you two to figure out the logistics. Mom is hosting brunch next Sunday and expects to see you both there,” Finn said.

  “Mom can barely move.”

  “You haven’t been by the hospital yet today. She was walking around. Slowly, but she’s determined. Something about being able to stand up tall at the wedding.”

  Ben cursed under his breath and ran his fingers through his hair, fighting the urge to pull.

  “That reminds me. She said to watch your language around Molly.”

  “I think you need to leave,” Ben said, taking a step toward his brother.

  Finn didn’t seem threatened at all. He flashed Molly a stupid grin. “See you later, Molly, Ben,” he said with a salute and a smirk.

  He left a few minutes later, the slamming of the front door resonating loudly in the otherwise quiet house. “I’ll let you get unpacked and settled. I trust Finn showed you where everything is.”

  She nodded, crossing her arms. “He did. I like your place. You’ve done a great job with it,” she said.

  He shrugged. “It’s what I need. I bought it for the view.”

  “It’s gorgeous. I’ll need a key.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key he’d had made for her. “Here you go. This will get you into the front door.”

  “Okay, thanks. The ER is short a doctor tonight so I thought I’d take the shift. I’ll unpack a few things and then get going.”

  “It’s your day off, isn’t it?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t mind taking on extra shifts. I’m only here on a one-year contract. I might as well work.”

  She walked past him into the room; his mother’s words about Molly seeming tired ran through his mind. He stood in the doorway for a moment, but then decided to move. This wasn’t his problem. If she was a workaholic or something, it wasn’t his business. It also shouldn’t matter that she was only here for one year. None of it mattered. Just because she was his fiancée—fake fiancée—didn’t mean he had to care. Or maybe what bothered him the most was that he hadn’t ever stopped caring.

  This was all an act. Molly was not a person he could trust at this point in his life—or ever. When this was over, he’d find the person he was meant to be with. He’d get married. He’d have kids. Once his mother was better and he had the job as the next fire chief of Shadow Creek, Molly would be out of his life for good.

  Chapter Five

  Molly leapt out of bed after peering at her phone display through eyes that felt as though they’d never seen light before. She wasn’t exactly late, but she had to stop in at the women’s shelter because one of her patients wasn’t feeling well.

  One of the things she’d always loved about Shadow Creek was the sense of community. When she’d moved back to town she’d heard about the new women’s shelter, and knew she’d make that a priority. She was starting a monthly clinic there and had already done quite a few house calls to the shelter and was familiar with many of the women and children.

  She tripped over her luggage in the dark room and swore out loud, pausing and forcing herself to take a deep breath. She hated living out of luggage and in chaos. She loved order and routine. At her condo, all her closets were in order, her clothes hung and organized by color. She always put her clothes away, and she did her laundry twice a week so it would never pile up. Since she rarely ate at home, she hand-washed whatever dishes she used so there would never be a need to empty the dishwasher. The last two years she’d had a cleaning lady because she kept taking on more and more hours at the hospital, so on her one day off she wouldn’t have to spend it cleaning. Instead, she’d use that time to catch up on medical journals and maybe go out. Maybe.

  She eyed the suitcases but resisted the temptation to unpack; unpacking at Ben’s would mean she was staying. They both knew he didn’t want her to stay. She hoped she’d be able to make it to the washroom and shower without seeing him. Ben worked pretty crazy hours like she did, so there was no telling where he was at this time of the morning.

  She opened the door and there was Ben, leaning over a white pastry box on the kitchen island, shoving something in his mouth. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His hair was still damp, he hadn’t shaved, and his jeans dipped low enough that she was able to catch a glimpse of rock-solid abs before the counter covered him.

  “Morning,” he said, his mouth still full.

  She forced a sunny smile and resisted the urge to check whether or not her hair was looking like she’d driven through a tornado in a convertible with the top down. “Morning. I’m going to head into the shower,” she said. She swallowed as his gaze flickered over her body. She crossed her arms, but the moment passed, and maybe she’d just imagined it all.

  “Donut?” he asked, grabbing another one before sliding the box across the island in her direction.

  She peered into the box and salivated at the sight of four glazed donuts. “Uh, thanks. But no, I try not to start my day with sugar.”

  The coffee maker beeped, and suddenly she was heady with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and fresh donuts. He gave her a grin like he knew she was regretting with every fiber of her being saying that she didn’t eat sugar for breakfast. “That’s why I start my day in the gym, then the sugar,” he said. Her eyes narrowed on the lip twitch happening on that perfect mouth. He’d said that about the gym because he knew she slept in and that she normally started her day with a jog as well. Rude. “Besides, it’s chocolate donut day at The Chocolatiers. This only happens once a month. The lineup is out the door. Would you like coffee or do you ingest that in a particular order as well?” he asked, lifting the carafe in her direction.

  She held up her chin and fought the urge to beg for caffeine and sugar. “I need to shower and maybe if I have time I’ll grab a cup on my way out,” she said, walking past him. Then, thinking she was again sounding snotty and rude, stopped, and looked at him. “But thank you for offering.”

&n
bsp; This time he grinned, looking like the poster boy for everything that was missing in her life, and leaned against the counter, all long lines and mouth-watering muscles. “You’re very welcome. Enjoy your shower.”

  She wanted to run away from Ben and his naked torso and all mentions of enjoying showers. By the time she got into the shower, she was a wreck. She didn’t know how she was going to live with him for the next few weeks. Or months. What if his mother’s recovery was delayed and the current chief couldn’t decide who to promote and they had to keep up with this charade for months?

  Once dressed, she carefully brushed her hair into a side ponytail and then braided it. She applied blue eye shadow and then stepped back, cringing at her reflection. Hopefully Ben had left by now and she could inhale a donut and coffee without him witnessing it, or the Queen Elsa look she was purposefully going for today. She put her ear to the door and waited, listening for any sounds. A moment later, satisfied he’d already left for work, she marched into the kitchen and poured herself a coffee, feeling somewhat touched he’d left the coffee pot on, and then plucked a donut from the box. It took her about two seconds flat to betray her no-sugar policy, and she almost choked on the amount of dough in her throat.

  “Easy there, you wouldn’t want me to perform the Heimlich.”

  She closed her eyes in humiliation and dread. He’d have a field day with this one. Easy ammunition. She opened her eyes a few seconds later, but he wasn’t gloating; instead, he was looking at her, a line between his brows. At least he was dressed, she noticed. Not that the shirt and jeans made him look any less sexy than the naked skin.

  She took a sip of burning hot coffee and tried not to gasp at the searing pain as it burned down her throat.

  “I, uh, like the glitter.”

  Oh, that. She eyed the box, wishing that donuts weren’t so bad for you, and wondered whether or not she should have another one. Ugh. It was so much easier to avoid completely. Now the second donut would be on her mind all day. “Thanks, it’s for a patient of mine,” she said, slowly moving away from the donuts and the man. She leaned against the counter and chugged more hot coffee. She really wished there was milk in it.