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

by Victoria James

  Molly shook the older man’s hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I have to say, I didn’t think you actually existed. But I’m pleased Ben has finally settled down. Mayberry…you’re Marlene’s daughter?”

  “Yes, she is. My eldest daughter has finally come home to head up the pediatric ward at the hospital.”

  Molly stiffened as her mother appeared. Her mother had her fake smile on, and Molly felt the urge to run. She knew Ben would want to confront her, but she knew he would never do it publicly. The air suddenly felt cold, and she noticed the sun was completely gone, the blanket of night surrounding them.

  “You must be very proud,” Chief Wade said to her mother.

  Her mother lifted her chin, her fake smile not faltering an inch. “And what about you, Ben? Have you decided to postpone your run to be the next fire chief?”

  Molly’s stomach dropped. The entire group stopped talking, and she felt Ben tense beside her. Oh, God. “No, I haven’t, Marlene. Why would I do that?”

  Molly wanted to pull him away. Her mother’s gaze snapped to her, her eyes flashing. She had actually believed Molly would do it.

  “Ben is an exceptional firefighter and leader,” Chief Wade said, and Molly hated that she couldn’t have enjoyed hearing that praise, because she was so focused on the tension between her and her mother and Ben. “You will make quite the power couple.”

  “They definitely will. It takes a big man to put aside the fact that his future wife was a teenage unwed mother who gave her baby up for adoption.”

  …

  Ben felt that blow as though it had been made for him. Molly’s hand dropped out of his, and he immediately grasped it, trying to remain calm, trying to reign in the rage coursing through his body. “I’m very proud of Molly, and I always have been. I’m even more in love with her than I was nine years ago and can’t wait to get married. If you’ll excuse us, we have a busy night ahead of us,” he said. Everyone mumbled a goodbye, but he didn’t wait to hear it. He wanted to get Molly away from her mother and away from everything her mother was trying to do.

  She walked beside him and when he glanced over at her, his stomach churned at the way her chin trembled. But she held her head high and her shoulders were back as they walked away. Her hand clutched his tightly, and they walked in silence until they reached his truck. He opened the door for her.

  “Molly,” he said, tugging her hand to stop her from getting in.

  She turned to look up at him, her eyes shining with a pain that hurt to look at. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He pulled her into him, and she wrapped her arms around him. “I just want to get out of here,” she said.

  “Okay. Let’s go,” he said, closing her door and taking a deep breath. He needed to focus on being what she needed and not flying into a rage over her mother. They drove back to his place in silence, and he had no idea what to expect from her when they arrived back home. He had thought this night would have led them in a very different direction. He also knew that he wasn’t going to let Marlene get away with any of this.

  Ben unlocked the door to his house and held it open for Molly. He watched her make a beeline for the bottle of merlot he kept on hand for her; he knew she was fighting nerves and hurt. He was torn between anger and sympathy, anger for what she’d been through and sympathy for the woman who was trying so damn hard to overcome her demons.

  “Why would your mother try to humiliate you like that?” he asked, leaning against the counter as she poured herself a hefty glass.

  She took a sip and then looked down at the counter. “She approached me a couple weeks ago about not wanting you to get the position of fire chief. I think in her sick, twisted mind she thought that by humiliating me and you tonight that you’d leave me. You’d look bad in front of Darren, and then Dan would be favored for the promotion.”

  Hell, that was cruel. “Let’s get something very clear, before this conversation goes any further.”

  She took another long drink, still not looking at him.

  “She didn’t humiliate me tonight. There’s nothing she could say about you that would humiliate me, Molly. I got the hell out of there for your sake. I wasn’t running, but I didn’t want you standing there, under attack like that.”

  She looked up at him, and her eyes glistened with something pretty damn close to love. He’d take it, because he hadn’t seen that in a helluva long time, and that look, from Molly, was all he wanted. “This isn’t how I wanted our night to end. I want to pretend it didn’t happen. I don’t want my mother to have that power in my life anymore.”

  “Then let’s not think about it tonight,” he said.

  She nodded and then finished her glass of wine and placed it on the counter. She looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with panic even though she gave him a wobbly smile. It only pulled at his heartstrings even more. Instead of remembering her face looking heady with desire as it had when he’d kissed her before her mother ruined everything, he remembered when they’d been together: Molly had wanted him just as much as he’d wanted her. Their chemistry had been off the charts—something he’d never experienced again with anyone. When he’d kissed her tonight, it had been the same earth-shattering hotness. He knew it was the same for her. But then she’d closed up. It was okay. He was going to be patient.

  He locked the door, mostly because his brother was notorious for bursting into his place unaccounted. Especially after tonight’s display at Harvest Fest, he didn’t want anyone bothering them. Tonight, he wanted it to be the two of them. He wanted that connection with her, to build that trust with her again. Tomorrow…tomorrow he’d find a way to deal with her mother.

  He eyed Molly who was now refilling glass. She raised it to her lips and glanced over at him. Her face turned red, and she lowered the glass without taking a sip. “Did you want a beer?”

  “No,” he said, walking toward her slowly. Her blue eyes grew wider, and she took a large gulp—like the kind of gulp a person would take if they needed to get wasted really fast—and then took a deep breath.

  “Okay. Well, I’m a bit tense. First my mother and then…I think I need to settle down first.”

  “Hey, we don’t have to do this. No pressure. I told you that.”

  She nodded and then held up her index finger, apparently signaling for him to wait while she downed another quarter of her wine glass. “I know you. I want to do this. I’ve always wanted to do this…with you. When I was twenty and insecure and head over heels in love with you, I would go to bed at night imagining what it would be like. What you would be like,” she whispered, looking up at him, all her vulnerabilities shining in her blue eyes.

  He swallowed past the emotion in his throat and stepped close to her, watching the way her pulse accelerated, the way her cheeks turned pink. He stood close enough that he caught the scent of lilacs, close enough that he could bend down and kiss her. “Molly, you have no idea how many times I would imagine the same things. I’ve been blessed with a very good imagination.”

  He smiled when she laughed.

  “But I knew how good we would be together. Right from day one. I still know. Now. Everything.”

  Doubt still shone in her eyes, and she raised her wine glass. He didn’t want her to think he was telling her what to do or that he was judging her, but if she finished that glass, they wouldn’t be ending their night in bed. He would not take advantage of her. “Can you put the wine glass down, sweetheart? I don’t want you to be drunk. I don’t want you to need something to numb you before I make love to you. If you need that, you’re not ready and that’s okay, Molly.”

  She nodded and placed the glass down on the counter. “Can I tell you something?”

  He nodded, wanting to touch her, but resisting. He crammed his fists into his front pockets and listened, just trying to be whatever she needed him to be.

  “I feel incredibly stupid and vulnerable. I am thirty years old. I finished school years befor
e I was supposed to. I am a doctor. I have been living a lie for nine years. I would go around and think something was wrong with me. Colleagues would date, would gossip about their love lives, who they slept with, who had had great sex on the weekend, who was getting married…and I just stood there on the sidelines, fake smiling or fake laughing. Sometimes I’d make up fake boyfriends. Everything about me was fake. Inside I was this frightened girl. I hated working with men when I first started. I hated working late nights. I’d never park my car in the underground parking area. I would break out in a sweat when I had to go back to my condo at night. I called you. I would call sometimes just to hear your voice. Sometimes I’d want to just talk to you, like we used to.”

  He stared at her, his teeth clenched so tight, his nails grinding in the palms of his hands, because she killed him. He ached for her. He wanted nothing more than to take it all away, to give her a new life, one where she never had to worry about anything, where she could be cherished and protected and feel safe. He pushed his thoughts aside because she didn’t want his pity. He slowly raised his hand to cradle the nape of her neck. “I wished you had. I used to hear your voice. I used to imagine that one day you’d just walk through the door and tell me you were sorry and had made a horrible mistake.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Would you have taken me back?”

  “Always,” he whispered, finally lowering his head to her mouth. “You’ve always owned a part of me, Molly.” He kissed her gently, waiting for her to touch him, to move into him. When she did, he deepened the kiss. He felt her soft curves press into him, and he wrapped his arms around, feeling her knees wobble. He lifted her onto the counter, and she wrapped her legs around him. His hands framed her face and he looked into her eyes—reading the desire in them, feeling the ache in his body—and felt humbled by the enormity of what she was entrusting him with.

  He kissed her again, this time with the urgency and passion he’d always had for her. She gave it right back, and he felt the difference in her, the relinquishing of control as her fingers tugged at the hair at the back of his neck. He lifted her off the counter and carried her to his room, placing her on the bed and then lying on top of her, his weight on his forearms, wanting to give her time to adjust to where they were going from here.

  “Ben,” she whispered, pulling back slightly.

  He immediately stilled. “Yes.”

  “I don’t know if I can promise anything. Tomorrow or a future or—”

  “I don’t care,” he whispered harshly. “I don’t care. I just can’t handle one more day without you. Molly, you have always been the woman I’ve wanted. God, I missed you,” he said, kissing her again, trailing kisses down her neck, until he felt her back arch toward him.

  He kissed her, her warning floating to the back of his mind, as he concentrated on the moment in front of him. He kissed her, remembering the girl she was, the girl he’d lost. He kissed her, the woman she had become, the one he knew he still loved, the one he wanted to have another chance at forever with.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Molly woke up to Ben lying beside her, one of his arms draped around her waist.

  She smiled softly and closed her eyes again, not wanting the feeling to end, not wanting her problems to surface yet. Ben…their night together had been more than she had ever hoped or imagined. He had made her feel sexy and desirable and loved and safe. He had made her feel. And then he’d held her. And they had talked for hours, in the dark, like they had when they were young. She had almost been giddy. For a few fleeting seconds, she remembered that girl and she felt like her. And then a bit before dawn he’d made love to her again, and they had fallen asleep together.

  She tried to enjoy lying here and not thinking about her problems…the humiliation that still stung when she thought of what her mother had said last night in front of their friends. Ben had risen to the occasion and had spoken before she could, and what he said about being proud of her had solidified what she had always known about him…but it made her angry with herself, that she’d just stood there—like a victim. She had thought she would only be in Shadow Creek for a year, but now, with Ben, it changed everything; except how could she live here with her mother? Her mother wanted to destroy everything he was working for.

  “Please tell me that’s not regret.” Ben was staring at her, his brow furrowed. A ripple of longing struck her at the sight of him. He looked delicious, with his hair all messy and his dark stubble…and the no clothes.

  “As if I could ever regret last night,” she said.

  He grinned, that grin she remembered. The one with a healthy dose of male pride. “The best night of my life, because we were together,” he said, kissing her softly.

  His cell phone rang and he cursed. “I don’t want to answer that,” he said against her mouth.

  “What if it’s your mother?” she said, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. She grabbed it and glanced at the display. Her face flooded with heat as the image of a gorgeous brunette smiled at her. Not his mother.

  She handed him his phone and he frowned, silencing the call.

  “A friend?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  He shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “She’s pretty.”

  He groaned and ran his hands down his face. “Her name is Olivia. We…dated for a bit. That’s all. I’m telling you just because she lives in Shadow Creek, and if we run into her, I don’t want you to be caught off guard.”

  She nodded, trying to use her professional doctor demeanor instead of the cowardly, insecure girlfriend one that was slowly sneaking up on her.

  He sat up, leaning against the headboard and looked at her. “Molly.”

  She smiled. “It’s fine. Obviously, you’ve had girlfriends. I get it,” she said, grabbing his T-shirt from the foot of the bed and pulling it over her head. She stood up, feeling comfortable in the large shirt, loving that it smelled like him. “I need coffee.”

  She walked out of the bedroom and headed for the coffee maker, trying to focus on how happy she was just a few minutes ago. She would not think of his girlfriends and how normal they must have been compared to her.

  “Molly,” he said, walking into the room. She added the water to the coffee maker, trying not to notice how good he looked just wearing his jeans and leaning against the counter. She turned the coffee maker on and took out two cups.

  “Coffee is almost done. What time are you working today?” she asked, hoping the coffee maker would hurry up and beep.

  “What are you doing? What is this? Don’t shut me out. You have to talk to me.”

  Right. Because that’s what adults did. God, was she a fool. She took a deep breath and faced him. “Fine. I feel stupid. I feel insecure.”

  The coffee maker beeped, saving her from looking at him, because as she spoke his jaw had started clenching and he was running his hands through his hair. She added milk to hers and handed him his cup. He put it down without taking a sip. He opened his mouth to speak and then stopped and cleared his throat. “You and last night.” He shook his head and looked down for a second. “That was the best night of my life. That was sacred. That was love between a man and a woman. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. The rest is shit, Molly. It’s meaningless, hollow, with the sole purpose of sexual release. I would never compare what we shared in bed with anyone I’ve been with. There is no comparison.”

  She tried to take a sip of her hot coffee, but her throat hurt with emotion. He walked up to her and took her hand in his. “Talk to me. Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand what you’re saying on a logical level. It’s the heart that’s having a little time catching up. For the last nine years, I was just going through the motions, trying to pretend I was normal but knowing I wasn’t. It was taking me too long to recover, too long to want to be with a man, to want to explore that side of myself. Or maybe I just wanted to come back to you. Maybe I just needed you,” she whispered.

  “I want y
ou to be confident. I want you to believe me,” Ben said, his voice gruff. “I love you, Molly. I never stopped loving you. I never forgot you, and I never got over you. Now you’re here, and I don’t want to lose you again. I want to spend the rest of our lives together. I want you to feel safe and loved and valued. I want to be your rock, your husband, the father of your children, just like we planned nine years ago.”

  Molly tried to catch her breath, to stop the feelings that might actually make her agree with him. She was torn between clinging to this fairy tale he was offering and running away. “Ben,” she said, moving from him. He dropped his hands from her body, letting her walk away from him, and that hurt even more, because she knew why he did that so quickly. Everything had changed, now that he knew. “I don’t want those things anymore. I’m not the same girl. I don’t want marriage or…babies.”

  Surprise flickered across his eyes. She caught the flash of vulnerability, and it made her hate herself. She stood across the room where it was safe.

  “Okay, so what do you want?”

  “I just want to go on being Dr. Mayberry. I want to work and…”

  “So what’s this, then? Where do we stand?” he said, leaning against the counter, and she knew he was forcing himself to look relaxed. Muscles rippled in his strong, bare shoulders, and she let her gaze trail over him, admiring for what had to be the hundredth time, his beauty.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I…I didn’t plan any of this. I wanted to tell you everything that had happened because it was wrong of me to keep it from you. I was wrong to not tell you—”

  “Stop it,” he said, his voice harsh. He hung his head and then looked back up at her, his tone gentler. “You did what you had to do at the time. Don’t apologize. Don’t worry about me. I’m not the victim here.”

  “Maybe that’s just it. Maybe I can’t be the victim. I don’t want to be the victim anymore. I’m the girl with the screwed-up family. Your friends all know that I gave away my baby—”