“Is she okay?” Chandler demanded over the raging sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Seth looked up, his face etched with concern. “Molly’s understandably shaken up.”
“And the deputy?”
His brother replied, “A concussion, minor burns on the right side and something about her eardrum.”
Chandler surveyed the scene and wondered how anyone had survived the blast. Molly’s town house was little more than a pile of smoldering rubble. “Where were they taken?”
“Community Hospital,” Seth answered, squatting in order to poke the tip of his pen around a metal object nestled among the debris. “Chance is on call. He’s supposed to get back to me with an update as soon as he checks them out.”
“Smell that?” Chandler asked, sucking in a deep breath to confirm his suspicions. “C-4. No one uses C-4 anymore.”
Seth stood, shoving the Stetson back on his forehead. “It’s available on the black market.”
“Did you call ATF?”
Seth nodded. “We’ll send them samples, but C-4 isn’t like having ballistics. All they’ll be able to do is confirm what we already know.”
Needing to expend some of his anger, Chandler went over and kicked at the charred remnants of Molly’s sofa. He let out an expletive as the wooden frame splintered into fragments. None of this made any sense. Including the overwhelming sense of responsibility choking him. On a purely intellectual level, he knew he wasn’t personally responsible for the present circumstances, but that didn’t seem to assuage his guilt.
Molly had gone on his show of her own volition. Still, he needed only to conjure the image of her face to feel a renewal of emotion.
“This must be about her,” he told Seth when he’d composed himself enough to speak in a normal tone.
“Or John just wants us to think that and you’re the target.”
“I didn’t get blown up.”
“Thankfully,” Seth said, his tone serious, “neither did she.”
“IS SHE REALLY OKAY?” Molly asked for the third time.
Val Landry smiled; a reassuring and honest expression that seemed to suit the very attractive, very pregnant woman. Val was a pretty brunette with an almost exotic look. And Molly didn’t need a degree to see that she adored the husband at her side.
Molly experienced that small pang of jealousy that normal single women felt when in the presence of normal happily married women. Not a bad kind of envy, just that momentary what-if wondering while in the company of someone who had taken a different path in life.
Molly had chosen to focus on her career. And there were perks to the single life. She didn’t have to account for her time; her schedule was her own. She had the freedom to do anything or go anywhere without worrying about or incorporating anyone else’s likes or dislikes into her decision making. She wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s happiness. And she knew from painful experience what a burden it could be to arrange your life around the needs of another human being.
But, Molly secretly acknowledged, as Val continued to clean the abrasions she’d suffered in the explosion, her autonomy came at a price. Loneliness. It would be nice to have someone to share things with. Someone who knew her. Completely. The way Val seemed to anticipate her husband’s needs and actions without a single word passing between them. All during Chance’s examination of her, Val had known when to hand him what.
Then there were those moments reserved for couples; the brushing of hands, the touching of fingers—important non-verbal communication. Completely comfortable, unguarded moments that played out like an expertly choreographed dance.
“Chandler is on his way,” Val said after answering the telephone mounted on the wall by the door.
“Why?”
Val absently massaged her distended abdomen. “The family rumor mill has it that he’s got a thing for you.”
Molly raised a brow. “In less than two days?”
“Landrys are men of action,” Val reasoned. “When they aren’t being complete fools.”
Molly smiled for the first time in hours. “That doesn’t sound like upholding the party line.”
“Just wait, you’ll see what I mean. But don’t get me wrong.” Val paused long enough to dab some antiseptic-smelling, very cold liquid on the scrape to Molly’s forearm. “All of them are wonderful men, but they seem to falter when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“My heart isn’t involved.”
“Give it time,” Val promised. “You say that now, but wait until you’ve kissed him.”
Molly’s heart stopped for a second. Kiss him? Not going to happen. “Since kissing isn’t in the plan, I should be fine.”
“May not be in your plan, but I’m sure it’s in his.”
“Plans are made to be broken.” Molly stiffened, sitting very straight on the edge of the gurney. Her movement caused the paper sheet covering the bed to crinkle loudly.
“This ought to be fun,” Val said, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Good for you. Give Chandler a run for his money.”
“I’m not interested in him or his mon—”
The door swung open and slapped the wall, then Chandler’s presence overwhelmed the small space. Though she’d seen a lot of him over the past few days, his incredibly handsome face still managed to quicken her pulse.
Val leaned next to her ear and whispered, “I hate to break it to you, but you sure look interested for somebody who isn’t interested.”
“How is she?” he asked Val as he swooped into the room with the force of a cyclone.
“She’s doing fine,” Val told him briskly as she put away her supplies and tidied up. “Lacerations, a second-degree burn on her ar—”
Molly waved a hand. “Hello you two? She’s sitting right here fully conscious.”
Chandler turned his gaze on her. Scanning her from her sooty forehead to her dirty bare toes peeking from beneath her crinkly paper blanket. “How do you feel?”
“Not bad, all things considered.” Molly did her best to keep her expression bland even as she felt a jolt of heat as he gently picked up her left hand and cradled it in his. He examined first her palm, then the back of her hand, one finger at a time, checking the minor injuries she’d sustained. Molly stared down at his large strong hand supporting hers, and the jolt skittered through her system like heat lightning.
He picked up her other hand and inspected a particularly bad burn that glistened with the salve Val had just applied. His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath, smell the musk of his cologne. Molly was grateful she wasn’t hooked up to a monitor, which at this point would be beeping like crazy as her heart rate spiked. His lashes flickered up as he met her gaze. “I’m sorry you were hurt,” he whispered a breath away from her mouth.
Mouth dry, Molly tried for nonchalance. “It could’ve been worse. I’m really okay.”
His face openly registered genuine relief once satisfied that she truly had come away from the explosion with hardly a scratch.
So what if every cell in her body convulsed when his lips grazed her forehead. It was probably just a delayed—if intense—reaction to the events of the past few days. Yes! That would explain why she was literally reduced to a pile of quivering hormones in the presence of the opposite sex for the first time since high school. Sex? Why did she have to think that word?
“I can’t believe you’re okay.”
I can’t believe I want to rip off my clothes and have my way with you right here.
“I’ll go do the paperwork to spring you,” Val said. “And nice to see you too, Chandler.”
Somewhat reluctantly, he stepped back to place a kiss on Val’s cheek. “Sorry. How’s my favorite sister-in-law?”
“Fat. Tired. This baby is making me very cranky.”
Chandler put a hand on Val’s belly. “Don’t listen to her,” he called to the unborn child. “She’s always been cranky.”
Val swatted him away. “Give me five minutes, then she’s all yours.”
Molly wasn’t sure how to feel about being passed off so easily. Why did every Landry think she would so easily integrate herself into the menagerie? As welcoming as it might be, she wasn’t a big-family kinda girl. And nothing she’d learned thus far had changed that opinion. There wasn’t any privacy in Landry Land. Everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business.
“I don’t know why you came,” she said as soon as Val had left them alone. “I’m quite capable of—”
“I was worried.”
Tilting her head back, she met his gaze. It was an intense and disconcerting experience. Why? Because his eyes were dark, mysterious pools that she could easily get lost in? Or because just the thought that he might pull her into his arms was so intriguing she might beg him to do it?
This was crazy. Molly didn’t swoon, yet that was the best way she could describe the unfamiliar sensations pelting her consciousness. Her palms felt sweaty, and her heart rate wasn’t quite regular. Yep, she had all the signs of a woman ready to keel over at the mere sight of a man. So why this man? And why now?
“We’re in the middle of an extreme situation,” she explained, glad that her voice didn’t crack along with the final remnants of her self-control. “Often that leads to extreme feelings and reactions that we otherwise wouldn’t act upon. While I appreciate your concern, we have to acknowledge that this…situation isn’t conducive to beginning a relationship.”
His lips curved into an amused grin that made her blood pressure spike. “What?” she demanded, more forcefully than she might have liked.
He shook his dark head, but the smile remained annoyingly in place. “Please, feel free to psychoanalyze my motivations at will.”
“That’s what I do,” she reminded him.
“There are some things you just feel, Molly. You don’t think about them.”
“Maybe you don’t,” she promised him, not bothering to hide the accusation in her tone. “You can’t possibly claim to feel anything for me. You don’t know me and I certainly don’t know you.”
Chandler moved and hoisted his very large body up next to her on the gurney. Not a great solution for her. Molly was engulfed by the appealing scent of his cologne. She was too aware of the heat emanating from him. And the heat his closeness inspired in her. So what was the alternative? If she jumped down and ran away, she’d be the jerk. Chandler was not going to make a fool out of her. Not now. Not ever.
“What do you want to know?”
She blinked. “Wh-what?”
“Ask me anything. If your objection to my honest display of concern is based on the idiotic claim that you don’t know me, then ask me some questions. Get to know me.”
Did he call me an idiot? The paper covering crinkled beneath her hands as she shifted in order to look up at him. “That was rude.”
“That was my intention,” he admitted without apology. “You’re the one with the hang-ups, Doc. I think rushing over to the hospital to check on you after your house was blown to bits should have earned me a smile, not a lecture on interpersonal relationships.”
“From what I hear,” Molly told him wryly, “the only thing you know about interpersonal relationships is how to avoid them.”
“True.” Again he didn’t seem to care that his admission wasn’t exactly going to earn him Brownie points.
“Which is why I said…” His honesty had taken much of the wind out of her sails. “Which is exactly why…”
“You aren’t exactly the poster child for long-term commitment, either.”
Molly sucked in a surprised breath. “What does that mean?”
“I checked around. Anytime a man gets remotely close to you, you dump them.”
“I do not,” she scoffed. “I’ve had serious relationships. Stop projecting your shortcomings on me.”
“You’ve had safe relationships,” Chandler countered. “In the past five years, you’ve only dated nerdy professors and boring accountant types. Safe.”
“And you’ve only dated wispy model types with single-digit IQs who’ve thrown up everything they’ve ever eaten. So your point is what?”
“My point is,” he began, standing and, gently taking her hands in order to tug her to her feet. “Maybe we’re both due for a change.”
“I…I don’t want a change.”
Chandler peered down at her, watching the pulse at the base of her throat pound. At least he wasn’t alone. That was good, right? For the first time in forever, Chandler felt vulnerable. How could this dainty, albeit stubborn, little intellectual have him so off balance?
He’d built a lifetime of confidence with women, but that all seemed to slip away as he looked down into her shimmering green eyes. He felt awkward, cautious almost. And aware. Very aware.
He stepped into her, feeling the outline of her body fit against his. Tentatively he lifted her hands until her palms rested against his chest. The fluttery feel of her fingertips was somehow more erotic than skin against skin. His body’s reaction was immediate and intense.
He rested his palm against her cheek as his own need intensified. It didn’t matter if they were in the middle of a hospital, he was aware of nothing save the anticipation of tasting her lips.
Chandler struggled with his own desire. Though he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted his next breath, she had to want it more.
She watched as his gaze fell to her mouth, followed almost immediately by the pad of his thumb. Her lips parted slightly as he applied pressure, rubbing his thumb across her bottom lip in an even, calculated motion that was more erotic than any kiss she’d ever received.
What had begun as a gentle action, began building, making her pulse race unevenly, carrying the sensation to the rest of her body in a series of electric shocks. The electricity pooled in her stomach, blending with the need that turned her breathing shallow.
Reflexively, her fingers gripped the soft fabric of his shirt, balling it into tight fists as she felt herself press against him. She knew this was a bad idea. She knew it in her brain, but her body didn’t much care what her mind thought. Not when she was so close to feeling the magic of his mouth covering hers.
Want had turned to need. She lurched upward, standing on tiptoe in the hopes of making contact. But he was having none of it. Even when Molly’s hands moved up and grasped the back of his neck, he head didn’t lower. His mouth lingered tantalizingly out of reach.
She almost cried out when he stopped touching her mouth, but then she felt his fingers lace in the back of her hair, gently tugging her backward. She was ready. More than ready. Teetering on desperate. Her body felt as if it might explode from the waiting.
“Not…just…yet.”
He shifted slightly, spreading his legs so that she fit more closely against him. Any closer and she was sure she’d simply melt into him. An option that was immensely appealing.
His body was solid and warm. She felt the strained muscles of his legs against her thighs, and it threatened to make her knees buckle. “Why?” Was that raspy, husky voice hers?
“You have to apologize first.”
“For what?”
“For doubting my motives. For criticizing my reason for coming.”
“I do doubt your motives, and your reason for coming was…lame.”
His lips brushed her forehead in a series of small, warm kisses that left her longing for the real thing.
“I was being nice to you, Molly. Not asking you to marry me.”
“Good,” she said on a rush of breath. “Because I would never marry someone like you. Or anyone for that matter.”
His kisses stalled, but his mouth remained pressed against her skin. “No one? Ever?”
Tired of waiting for him, she arched her back and planted a warm, wet kiss against his neck. She felt a certain satisfaction when his body contracted and she heard a positively guttural sound rumble in his throat. His skin smelled and tasted fresh and clean.
“You’re distracting me,” Chandler rasped. “Intentionally, I think.”
“Smart man.” She punctuated each word with a warm, wet flick of her tongue.
He gripped her shoulders. Hopefully she was driving him over whatever edge he’d chosen to plant his feet. Good. There was something wonderful about this little shift in power.
He stilled her by applying pressure in the fingers bracketing her shoulders. Molly looked up just in time to see Val enter the room.
She jumped away from Chandler, but the guilty overreaction seemed lost on Val. Instead, her brow was wrinkled, and deep lines of concern seemed etched into her skin.
“Is something wrong?” Chandler asked, allowing his hands to fall to Molly’s hips, where they rested comfortably.
Too comfortably perhaps.
She was about to twist away from him when Val spoke.
“There’s been another explosion.”