Talk Me Down. Victoria Dahl
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Название: Talk Me Down

Автор: Victoria Dahl

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781474046671

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ winked. “Nice try, Chief.” He raised both eyebrows, silently protesting confusion, but she was unmoved. “Speaking of work, congratulations on making it to chief so quickly.”

      His head tilted in acknowledgement. “Nobody else wanted the job.”

      “Wow, such modesty.” Oops.

      Ben blushed again, and then she blushed, knowing exactly what he was thinking about, picturing it until the heat spread from her face to her whole body.

      “Well…” Ben stuck out his hand and when she took it, he gave her a curt, professional shake. “Welcome back to town, Molly. I’ll see you around.” Before she could respond, he was gone, the door of the market closing behind him and cutting off an excellent view.

      MOLLY JENNINGS. Good Lord.

      Ben changed out of his uniform and into his running clothes, suddenly wishing he was a smoker. He needed a cigarette. Or a drink. But a run was going to have to do since he was back on duty in a few hours. Frank was on vacation for the next couple days, and with a police force of four and a half, that meant overtime for everyone else, including the chief.

      He gathered his phone and keys, then stopped on his way out the door to grab a lead-weighted stick. He’d seen too many cougar and bear attacks in his lifetime not to be cautious. Spring was far more dangerous than fall, but there was no reason to be careless.

      Careless. Like he’d been when he’d seen Molly standing there in the grocery store like some vision from his most embarrassing dream. Ben grimaced and pushed his body into a fast run without bothering with any warm-up. Hell, he was warm enough already. He’d blushed like a damn schoolgirl at the sight of her. Another mortifying moment with Molly Jennings.

      But he wasn’t some twenty-two-year-old kid anymore. And she definitely wasn’t seventeen. She’d looked fresh and natural and fully mature, standing there with her dark gold ponytail swaying and her belly just peeking out between ratty cargo pants and a tight baby-blue T-shirt.

      God, he loved cargo pants. Strange, probably, but they always seemed to hug a woman’s ass just right. Thankfully he hadn’t been treated to the sight of Molly’s ass, because the rest of her had been more than enough.

      Ben pushed his body up the steep incline where the road ended, then turned left onto a worn trail. The trail just happened to follow the ridge that ran behind Molly’s house, but it was his favorite route and he wasn’t going to change it just to avoid her. And if he happened to glance down into her back windows as he passed, that was only natural. Of course he was curious. They’d been friends, or at least he’d been around her all the time in their youth. And sure, he’d thought her utterly cute as a teenager, but she’d also been his best friend’s underage little sister. Completely off-limits. Now she was twenty-seven…and still completely off-limits.

      He didn’t date women who lived in Tumble Creek. Too much talk, too many complications. If there was anything worse than being lovers in a very small town, it was being ex-lovers. The definition of messy. So Ben pretty much confined himself to women outside the town, and since half the roads were closed in winter, whatever affairs he did have were seasonal.

      Molly would be here year-round. Or maybe not. Maybe she was just here for the winter. Maybe she’d stay for a few months and then leave for another ten years.

      That decade in Denver had been good to her. She was slim without being skinny, curvy and firm in just the right places. And her sparkling green eyes were livelier than he’d remembered. More confident. Knowledgeable even.

      Ben shook off the dangerous thought and ran higher up the path. The trail forked here, one path cutting back to the street, the other toward a ridgeline that eventually curved out to look over the wide valley west of town. The sun shone bright and warm, the air just crisp enough to cool his sweat but not nearly cold enough to numb his roiling emotions.

      Breathing in the scent of turning aspen, he headed toward the ridge and did his best to breathe out the memories of Molly that insisted on flitting through his mind.

      He was still in the thick of the trees when his phone beeped. “Lawson,” he said into the phone.

      “Chief,” the voice of his secretary/receptionist/dispatcher answered. “It’s Brenda. Are you home?”

      “Not quite, why?”

      “Oh, we’ve got a small problem. Andrew’s over to the Blackmound place, helping round up some cattle that broke through the fence. Now there’s a big moving truck taking up half of Main Street and it can’t get through. Jess Germaine’s car is in the way and he’s not answering his door.”

      Ben grunted and slowed his pace. The situation would probably resolve itself by the time he got back down the ridge, but then again, if Jess was sleeping off a few drinks…

      “All right. Give me twenty minutes. Call if Jess shows up.”

      “Right. Say, what’s a moving truck doing here?”

      He felt his jaw jump with tension. Thank God no one knew about his brief, inadvertent history with Molly or there’d be delighted whispering all around town. “Molly Jennings is back,” he made himself say calmly.

      And damned if she wasn’t causing him trouble already. It was going to be a hell of a long winter.

      EVEN AFTER WEEKS of vacancy, Aunt Gertie’s house still looked spotless. Only the faintest sheen of dust dared to disturb the wood floors. No dust bunnies skittered when she moved.

      And it’d likely never be this clean again. Molly took a good look around before she unpacked the computer and set it up on a desk in the dining room.

      She didn’t have a big table and chairs; though her loft in Denver had been everything she’d wanted, it had also been small. So Aunt Gertie’s dining room was no more. It was now Molly’s office. Wouldn’t the old woman have been horrified?

      I leave my home to my grandniece, Molly Jennings, in the hope that she will abandon her unsavory city life and move back to the bosom of God’s country where she belongs.

      Molly grinned and shook her head. Oh, she’d moved back all right, but she’d brought her unsavory life right along with her.

      One push of a button and the computer hummed to life, prompting her grin to widen. Her work had ground to a halt in Denver thanks to the stress of living with constant anxiety, but here…here she was already finding inspiration.

      The mystery of what she did for a living would take on a whole new life here in Tumble Creek, but she’d braced herself for that. And all the gossip and speculation would be worth it if Ben Lawson proved as wonderful a muse as he had been ten years before. Yes, indeedy.

      She moved a few things around her desktop, and even opened a new, blank document. The tingly feeling that started in her stomach reminded her of the joy she’d taken in her work up until six months ago. Not as good as sex, but very close to being turned on.

      Her blossoming good mood popped like a bubble when a familiar tune sang from her purse. Molly dug around until she found her phone, then groaned at the sight of the caller ID. “Wonderful.”

      She could just ignore it, but he’d call back. And then another one would call. Then the big kahuna himself. Cameron.

      Not СКАЧАТЬ