Talk Me Down (22 page)

She shook her head. “I wish you didn’t have to do this.”

“Hey, I had a great evening, even if you did stare at Aaron for a good half an hour.”

“I was hyp-mo-tized by his shiny, tight T-shirt. I thought you would be, too.”

Griffin grinned. “He is so not my type. I like a more natural guy.”

“Really? Because when I saw you at that bar in Denver, I got the impression you liked club boys.”

“No! That was a very bad, very short phase in my life, I swear. I like strong, smart men in flannel.”

“Like James?”

The grin remained, framed by reddening cheeks. “Like James.”

“He’s so sweet. I don’t doubt you make a great couple. Are you sure you need to cover it up? This is the twenty-first century, even in Creek County. You shouldn’t have to go on pretend dates with shameless hussies.”

“I like shameless hussies. And my parents, my job…It’s just hard. I’m working up to it.”

Molly patted his muscled arm. “You’d better work quick. James showed me his new collection. I think those sculptures might give him away.”

Impossibly, his cheeks deepened to an even darker red.

She leaned in and gave him a kiss on his scarlet jaw. “I thought I recognized those biceps. You make for a very impressive work of art, Griffin.”

“Stop,” he protested, but his eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Do you want me to come in?” he asked. “You’ve had a lot of weird stuff going on. If you’d feel safer, I’d be happy to take a look around.”

“I’m fine now. Brenda’s still in the slammer. But thank you.”

When she got inside, Molly closed the door and leaned hard against it. This making-Ben-jealous plan was exhausting. And she didn’t even know if he was aware of it, which made it doubly hard.

She’d made a strategic retreat in the face of his anger. But she hadn’t given up. Far from it. Molly was in love for the first time and she wanted it with all the righteous tenacity of a seventh-grader crushing on a freshman. The freshman refusing to speak when he passed had no effect on that kind of devotion. None at all.

But her plan wasn’t perfect. There were only so many closeted men around. If Miles didn’t pick up on this story soon, she was going to have to put it off ’til summer. Or go out with Aaron.

“Gah,” she choked and went to check her answering machine. Nothing. At least Cameron had given up the ghost. He hadn’t called once since his trip to Tumble Creek. Some of the Merry Men had been in touch, but she hadn’t detected any puppet strings. She’d finally freed herself, but unfortunately she’d cut Ben loose in the process.

It was only nine o’clock and she wasn’t the least bit tired, so she called Lori Love to keep from moping about Ben. “Hey, Lori,” she sighed.

“Hey, yourself! Were you by any chance on one of your dates tonight?”

Molly perked up. “Are the rumors starting?”

“I’m not sure, but I saw a certain police chief sitting in his truck, glowering at The Bar about two hours ago.”

She gasped and nearly dropped the phone. “Are you kidding me? He saw it
himself?
”

“I think so. He looked pretty damned tortured.”

“Oh, that’s so perfect,” Molly groaned.

“You are a cruel, cruel woman.”

“Maybe, but he won’t even talk to me. I can take it right back to junior high just as easily as he can.”

Lori snorted out a laugh. “You two are pitiful. Why don’t you just put on that schoolgirl outfit and break into his house while he’s sleeping? Impasse over.”

“He has a gun, Lori.”

“A nice one, from what I heard. Oh, you mean a
gun
gun. Right. I guess we shouldn’t set him up for a lifetime of sorrow and regret. Good thinking.”

“Thanks. Just let me know what you hear. And I hope to God he comes to his senses soon.”

“Of course. And send me more fan mail tonight, please? I’m bored out of my mind.”

“Well…only because you spied on Ben for me.” Hanging up, she went straight to her laptop and logged in to her Holly Summers e-mail account. Thirty-one new messages. She sorted quickly through, setting aside the majority to answer later. Most of the e-mails were kind and generous, the type of mail that kept her writing. And she really needed the encouragement right now.

One was laugh-out-loud hilarious and another totally bizarre—apparently some men were into clown costumes and grease paint. Molly deleted the name of the writer from that one and forwarded it to Lori. The last three would have been perfectly normal except that they were addressed to “Molly” instead of “Holly.” Damn Miles Webster and his online paper. Her real name was now just a click away for fans and stalkers alike. Not to mention friends and family.

Quinn had been horrified as only a brother could be, meaning not genuinely horrified, only sisters-shouldn’t-have-functioning-sex-organs horrified. Her friends in Denver had thought it perfectly hilarious. The people in Tumble Creek didn’t know what to think. And her parents…Well, Molly preferred not to put too much thought into that. She had the Ben Lawson problem to deal with before she could take on her parents.

An instant-message window opened on her screen, announcing a visitor with tinkling bells. “Holly Summers?” the message read. Simple enough, except she was logged in to her browser as Molly. Fighting off the cold hole of panic that opened inside her chest, Molly closed the message window with a curse.

Brenda was in jail, unable to make bail, and she’d likely be there for a while, but it seemed Molly needed a security system more than ever. Aspen was crawling with security experts, but she didn’t want to wait until summer. She’d called around and found that Tumble Creek was isolated enough to add three hundred dollars and a three-week wait to her order, but erotic writing brought a very specific set of risks to a girl’s life. She’d have to give in and pay up.

Or she could just get her own personal policeman to move in and keep watch over her sleeping body. Perhaps the extra three hundred dollars could be better spent.

Molly logged on to her favorite lingerie site for a little research and plotted her next big move. Now that Ben had noticed, she could kick it into Phase Two.

But Brenda was harmless and pitiful, a woman crying out for attention, affection…anything but the cruel invisibility that cloaked the lives of women like her. She was unnoticeable, and so she’d made a nuisance of herself and, in the process, helped to shield and camouflage
him.

He’d even talked to her about it. Commiserated with her about Molly and all the other selfish, immoral women in the world. Women who drew attention to themselves and away from good, steady helpmates like Brenda. Boy, she’d lapped that up like a cat with a bowl of cream. The fervent glow in her eyes had warned she was close to breakdown. He’d simply offered a tiny, extra nudge. Then…

Boom!

Brenda’s implosion had cleared all the obstacles from his path. Now Molly was alone. Totally alone. Lawson had abandoned her without a thought. The investigation had stopped. Hell, the chief had never even figured out the secret of the King Mine. With nothing more than a clear night and a telescope, anyone could spend a comfortable few hours watching Molly’s house.

He readjusted his position against the mine’s fence and watched Molly finish washing her lunch dishes, face bright in the glow of the afternoon sun. God, she was beautiful. He could just sit there and watch her all day, enjoying her loneliness because he knew he’d be the one to end it.

He loved this quiet place where he could be alone with Molly.

And good old, pitiful Brenda had inadvertently led him right to her favorite hiding place. She deserved something nice in return. Hopefully, she’d get a real kick out of hearing that Molly Jennings had finally realized that her place was back in Denver. Maybe he’d even send Brenda a picture to bring her some peace.

That sounded so much like bad poetry bouncing around his head that Ben added an extra six-pack of beer to his cart and spun on a dime to head for the checkout. Unfortunately old Mrs. Lantern was already up there, sorting through coupons as the young checkout girl waited with unveiled impatience. Mrs. Lantern didn’t notice or didn’t mind. She handed over the coupons and then watched to make sure that each one was entered correctly before she busted out the checkbook. Ben knew from experience that she didn’t believe in duplicate checks. He fought hard not to sigh as she turned to the old-fashioned double-sided register and carefully recorded the transaction.

The squeak of an off-balance cart scraped against his left eardrum. Ben counted slowly to five before he turned in that direction.

“Hey there, Chief,” Molly drawled, eyes sparkling above a sly smile.

And that was the moment that the first inkling hit him. An idea so wonderful that it scared him down deep in his soul.

Maybe Molly wasn’t
dating
dating. Maybe she wasn’t looking for someone new to talk dirty to. Maybe she was just trying to make him jealous.

He was staring at her, drinking in the pretty pink of her cheeks, the soft green specks in her hazel eyes, when she began to chuckle. She tilted her head forward, alerting him to the fact that Mrs. Lantern was long gone and the checkout clerk was calling his name.

“Hi,” he finally answered before he turned to put his groceries on the counter.

Molly Jennings had some type of power, a perfectly honed force field that disabled any shred of dignity he might try to assume. He was helpless in her presence. Powerless in the face of her knowing smile. And it occurred to him then that he liked it. Really liked it.

Too bad she was dishonest and untrustworthy. Not to mention unrepentant. Scandalous. Wicked. Deliciously cute. Amazingly creative and good at her job.

Ben grabbed his receipt and his bags and got the hell out of the market, terrified by his reaction to her.

Things hadn’t gotten better in the week since he’d seen her with Griffin. Things had gotten much worse. Miles was loving the new novella, and so were Molly’s fans. Some of the women who’d found the
Tumble Creek Tribune
online had even written to Ben, to flirt with him or tell him how much they’d loved his character. And, of course, some of them just straight-up asked for kinky sex.

He couldn’t stand that strangers and friends alike now thought he enjoyed whipping women or tying them up. He hated the looks he got as he moved through his life. It reminded him of his father and those terrible years. And yet…And yet it didn’t.

It was ridiculous and embarrassing, but it was also just…starting to wear off. Get old. Roll off his back. He almost didn’t care. He wasn’t a fucking kid anymore, drowning in the judgments of others.

And he missed Molly.

Which was a good reason to get out of town. He wanted to get out of the public eye and just think. Spend some time
not
staring across the street at The Bar, wondering if she was in there with some other guy.

So he dropped by his house to repack the groceries and stuff some clothes into a bag. The weather was supposed to be decent for a few days. There was no reason to think he couldn’t get up the dirt road to his cabin. No memories of Molly awaited him there, thank God, and he could examine this ridiculous temptation to try again with her.

His cell phone wouldn’t work in the back country, but he grabbed it anyway, then regretted it when it rang before he made it halfway out the door. Cursing, he tossed his bag in the back of his truck, pushed in the box of groceries and punched the call button on the phone.

“Lawson,” he barked.

“Afternoon, Chief,” Quinn murmured. “Or should I call you Sheriff and then take your ass out back for a beating?”

“I swear to you, one more time, that story wasn’t about me. What can I say to convince you?”

“Oh, I believe it now. I’m just having a good time torturing you.”

Ben closed his eyes. “Well, I’ll be out of cell range soon, so knock yourself out.”

“You still shunning my sister?”

The tightness was back, pushing from the inside out, blocking his airway. “Have you talked to her?” he muttered, not what he’d meant to say at all.

“Not much, which was why I hoped you’d given up your campaign of silence. She swears she’s okay, but I wish I could drop by and see myself.”

Was she okay? “She looks good.” Surely she was fine.

“My parents…” Quinn started, and Ben winced. This couldn’t be good. “My parents called to tell her they still loved her ‘despite everything,’ and then they took off for a conveniently long road trip. They haven’t called her in three weeks.”

“Maybe that’s for the best. It’ll give them time to calm down and respond with diplomacy.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Quinn’s voice spoke volumes of doubt and concern, and Ben felt all his protective instincts rise to the fore. Shit.

Sighing, he let his head fall back on the headrest. “I really am on my way out of town, but I’ll be back in two days.” Two days? Hadn’t he meant to take three? “I’ll talk to Molly as soon as I get back.”

“Thanks, Ben. That would be great. I know she’s all grown up—way too grown up, it turns out—but she’s still my little sister.”

“I know.” Yeah, he knew, because despite everything she was still just Molly Jennings to him, too, albeit spiced with new memories of dirty talk and blow jobs.

Ben hung up and backed out of his garage with a shudder of relief. He’d talk to her when he got back, but in the meantime he’d dispose of a couple six-packs and watch the moon slide across the night. The hot springs would’ve offered a whole different enjoyment with Molly, but he was still looking forward to a soak.

And he’d try his best to get through one whole day before he began debating exactly what he would say to his very naughty ex-lover. The possibilities ranged from “No hard feelings. I’ll see you around,” to “Please say you can’t live without me because I’m miserable and I need you.” Neither of those options gave him a happy feeling, so he’d hopefully come up with something better tomorrow.

Any hope of that happy feeling vanished when he hit Main Street and saw a very red, very unwelcome sight rolling toward him. He’d only seen one car like that in town recently, and it belonged to that smarmy, slimy police sergeant, Cameron Kasten.

Slowing as he passed, Ben tipped his head to look down into the low driver’s seat. Yep, it was Cameron, cheerfully raising a hand to offer a quick salute that matched his pleased smile.

“What the fuck?” Ben growled. He watched in the mirror as Cameron slowed and turned into the grocery store parking lot. Ben slowed, too, and pulled to the side of the road to spy.

Cameron parked and got out with a long stretch. Then he tipped his head to a passing woman, offering a compliment that made the frumpy woman smile before he passed by her. He disappeared into the market, not hiding or slinking around. In fact, he looked right at home, not that Ben trusted that at all.

He slipped out of his truck and walked the half-block back to the market, reaching Cameron’s car just as Cameron sauntered out of the store carrying a small plastic sack and a big bouquet of flowers.

“Chief Lawson! Good to see you!”

Ben ignored the man’s hand and crossed his arms. “Why the hell are you in my town, Sergeant?”

“Well, I’d tell you I was invited, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Invited by who?”

“Come on, Chief. Who do you think?”

Ben’s jaw began to tic, but he managed not to punch the smug bastard in the nose. “You’re trying to tell me that Molly invited you to visit? After she told you never to contact her again?”

Cameron’s smile made Ben want to go home and take a shower. “Molly says lots of things. She always has. But she never actually took out that protective order, did she? Why do you think that is?”

“She didn’t want to jeopardize your career unless she absolutely had to. And she’s been a little busy.”

“Yeah, she’s been busy realizing I wasn’t the one stalking her. And now that she’s also realized you’re no longer interested, Molly’s headed right back to me, just like I always said. Sorry, Chief.”

“She called you,” Ben ground out.

Cameron nodded his head, sympathy smeared across his face. “Molly’s a complicated woman, a little wild, but I’m used to it. I’ll take good care of her. Scout’s honor.”

She’s just using him,
Ben told himself, but it didn’t make him feel better. Molly was either using Cameron to make Ben jealous, or she was truly interested in the creep. Either way, that was far too much drama and stupidity for Ben’s life. He simply couldn’t love a woman who lived like that, no matter how much he wanted to.

There was only one choice left to him now: No hard feelings; I’ll see you around.

“There’d better not be any trouble,” he growled to Cameron, then walked away from the whole fucking thing, painfully glad he had somewhere to go to hide.