Her Rugged Rancher (27 page)

“Nope.” She elbowed him as she walked by, heading for an open table in the back where they'd be able to see the ocean. “Thirty years ago, Pete started with a three-wall shack and a grill. He's changed a few things, kept up with the code requirements, but that's about it.”

Sitting down, she handed him a plastic menu from the bucket sitting on the table. He took it, his eyes widening as he read the selections.

“Ginger curry mahi-mahi served over coconut rice, a snapper BLT with a citrus beurre blanc sauce, fish tacos with mango salsa—”

“Like I said, the best seafood in town.” She grinned at his enthusiasm; Pete's had that effect on people. “And let that be a reminder not to judge a book by its cover.”

“So noted.” He set the menu down and held her gaze. “And for the record, I'm glad that we aren't at some stuffy restaurant with white linen tablecloths. I never know what fork to use.”

“I don't buy it. No way you grew up with a military father and didn't learn basic table etiquette. But I'll agree that this is way better. I tend to avoid any place that expects me to wear high heels, just on principle.”

“So I shouldn't expect any formal events this week?”

“Not in Paradise. You'd have to go south to Palm Beach or Miami to get that kind of scene.” Was that what he'd expected on this trip? Was he bored already? “You could always get a rental car and shift your vacation there. I'm sure Nic would give you a partial refund, given the circumstances.” It made sense that someone used to running in artistic circles would be bored in such a small town, but darned if she wasn't disappointed at the thought of him leaving so soon.

“Hey, who said anything about leaving?” He shifted, stretching his legs out under the table. “I'm more than comfortable right here. Unless you're trying to get rid of me?”

Relief flooded her body—and she wasn't going to analyze why. “Sorry, I guess I was getting ahead of myself, jumping to conclusions. I do that sometimes. In good news, I'm told by my friends that you get used to it.” She flagged down a waitress, ready to order and restore some normalcy to the evening. “So, do you know what you want?”

He looked deliberately at her. “Everything looks good.”

Wow. Heat rose on her cheeks to match the heat in his voice. Keeping her cool around him wasn't going to be easy if he kept this up. “Limit yourself to the menu, big guy.”

There, see, she could handle herself. Setting her own menu aside, she waited for him to order.

“I'll have the fish tacos and one of the local beers, whichever you recommend.” Turning to Mollie, he grinned ruefully. “Only one beer, I promise. You don't have to worry about getting me up the hotel steps tonight.”

“Good. But I'll have an iced tea, just to be on the safe side. Designated driver and all that. And the crab cakes with a side of conch fritters, please.”

“You got it. I'll be back with your drinks in a minute.” The waitress left, and Mollie took a long breath, wondering what to say now. Funny how she hadn't had any problem talking to him on the boat or the beach, but tonight felt more like a date, which was stupid. All because he'd made reservations. No guy she'd eaten with had ever called to make reservations or taken her anywhere they were needed. Her contact with the male of the species had been limited to a shared pizza during a Dolphins game or a hot dog on the beach. That Noah had wanted to do something special, even if it hadn't worked out that way, had her off balance and unsure.

“So, what's next on the agenda for tomorrow?”

“Well, you choose—water or land?”

“We were on the water today, so I say land. Mix it up a bit.”

“Okay, I'll pick you up at eight—the Sandpiper is on the way.”

“On the way to where? What did I just agree to do? And why so early?”

Just then the waitress arrived with their drinks, and Mollie used the interruption to draw out the suspense, taking a sip of her tea as Noah eyed her warily.

“So? Out with it. Alligator wrestling? What?”

“Well, there are a few alligators...”

His eyebrows rose, and she realized she liked teasing him. Probably because he was such a good sport. “I'm friends with some people over at the Paradise Wildlife Rehab Center. I already asked, and they said I could bring you by any time for a behind-the-scenes tour.”

“Rehab center, is that for sick animals or something?”

“Pretty much, yes.” She watched him sip from his beer, relaxed once again. “They take in sick or injured wildlife, and volunteers help care for the animals until they are well enough to be released.”

“Let me guess, you're one of the volunteers.”

“Guilty as charged. I'm only there a few times a month, though. A lot of people do more. I just help with some of the permanent residents, the ones that couldn't be released. I leave the medical stuff to Jillian and Cassie.”

“So college student, receptionist, photographer and now wildlife rehabilitator. Is there anything you can't do?”

The waitress returned with their food, saving Mollie from a response. Because she was beginning worry that the one thing she couldn't do was resist him.

* * *

Noah dug into the basket in front of him, his appetite heightened by the fresh, salt-tinged air of the island. One bite of the tangy, sweet tacos had his taste buds begging him to sell his apartment and move to Paradise, ASAP. He'd eaten in some fancy digs over the years, but this place was amazing. Or maybe he was just more able to appreciate it, given the company.

“So, tell me more about yourself. You said you have a sister?”

She licked a stray drop of tartar sauce off her finger, making him stiffen in his seat. “One older sister. She's a lawyer like our dad. Very by the book, always got perfect grades, had a scholarship to college, that kind of thing.”

“And your parents expected you to do the same?” he guessed.

“At first they did. I think they're finally starting to realize that just isn't me. At least I hope so, 'cause it's never going to happen.”

She offered him what he assumed was a conch fritter, and he accepted, biting into the spicy fried confection while she talked.

“But you can see how my—what was it they called it...unconventionalism?—would be unsettling compared to all that.”

“Sounds like I might have gotten off easy as an only child. I always wanted a sibling, but I think you've convinced me otherwise.”

She bit her lip, a habit that was quickly driving him insane.

“It isn't all bad. Dani can't help being who she is, and she always stuck up for me when we were growing up. She's just naturally driven.”

“Right, and you're just a total slacker, what with school and your job and volunteering—”

“None of which have long-term potential, according to the most recent lecture from my father. But really, it's okay. They just worry.”

Maybe so, but they didn't sound very supportive. “Still, it has to be hard, knowing you aren't living up to their expectations. Even if their expectations are all wrong for you. I know my military father sure as hell didn't expect his son to become an artist, that's for sure.”

Mollie's eyes sparked in indignation. “Doesn't he know how amazing your work is? How amazing you are?”

She was sexy when she was pissed, all hot and bothered on his behalf. She'd be fiery like that in bed, too, no doubt about it. Too bad that idea had been tabled. Draining his beer, he reminded himself that it was his crappy relationship skills that had gotten him into this situation in the first place; he didn't need things to go from bad to worse by scaring off the first person to make him laugh in a long time. “I appreciate the compliment, but my father, like yours, has his own definition of success. But forget about them. How about we order some dessert and take it back to the inn? I'm under orders to bring back some key lime pie for Jillian. Might as well pack up something for everyone.”

“Distracting me with dessert?”

“Maybe. Is it working?” He'd certainly rather discuss that than his family life.

“Is there a woman it wouldn't work on?”

“A woman on a diet?”

“Lucky for me, I tend towards bony, not plump, because their key lime pie really is the best. We should get a whole pie or maybe two, given how strong Jillian's cravings can be. That way, you and I can share one, and Nic can fight Jillian for part of hers.”

Her hearty appetite was just one more thing he liked about her. And no matter what she said, she wasn't bony. Just slender, with a hint of curves that seduced the eye rather than shouting their presence. A level of nuance that appealed to the man and the artist.

It was driving him crazy not to touch her, but he'd promised to keep his hands to himself, and he was a man of his word. The question was, could he handle being around her like this, day after day, without driving himself crazy in the process? A week was starting to seem like a very long time.

Frustrated, he ordered two key lime pies and paid the bill, insisting meals were included in her nonexistent tour-guide salary. That had gotten another laugh out of her, a laugh that he was finding as addicting as everything else about her. On the drive home, she pointed out more of natural beauty of the island, but the only beauty he was interested in was sitting right there in the driver's seat. Being this close, he could smell the coconut and vanilla scent he already associated with her; hell, he could practically taste her. And he wanted to taste her.

By the time they arrived at the hotel, he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep this up, not with the rules she'd set in place. Maybe that made him weak, but she was too potent a drug for him resist. Jaw clamped tight, he walked with her up the steps of the inn, carrying the pies and listening to her chatter about their plans for tomorrow. Plans he was going to have to break. Maybe he would rent a car, drive somewhere else, out of reach of temptation. Or maybe he'd just take an earlier flight home, and forget the whole idea of a solo honeymoon.

“Noah, did you hear me?” Mollie had stopped in front of the carved wooden doors and was staring at him, face turned up to the moonlight and looking like the fairy sprite he'd imagined her to be at their first meeting. Something not quite real, and definitely not of the same world as him.

“I'm sorry, I was just... Can we sit down?” He gestured to a love seat tucked into a corner of the porch between two potted palms.

“Um, sure.” She looked down at the pies he was holding. “Should we take these in first?”

“No, just let me do this, please.” He needed to say this while his brain was still in control of his libido. Sitting on the edge of the cushion, he looked out over the railing, knowing that if he faced her he'd never be able to stick to his good intentions. “I don't think we should go to the rehab center tomorrow.”

Mollie shrugged beside him. “That's fine. We can do something else. Kite boarding, maybe? Or snorkeling? What did you have in mind?”

“No, I mean we shouldn't do anything together. It was really nice of you to offer to be my tour guide, but I don't think it's a good idea to continue.” He took a step back towards the stairs; he needed to leave before this got even more awkward.

“What?” Mollie jumped up to stand in front of him, her arms out as if she could physically block him in. He'd have laughed if he wasn't feeling so sick about the whole thing. “What made you change your mind? Because I thought we were having a good time here.” Her tone was angry, but he could see the hurt in her eyes. “Was I wrong about that?”

“Damn it, no, you weren't wrong. That's the problem.”

She cocked her head, looking at him like he'd grown a second head. “Let me get this straight. You want to cancel our agreement because you're having too good a time? Are you feeling guilty because you were supposed to be here with your ex? Because there's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself, having a little fun.”

“No, it's not about guilt.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain things without sounding like a hormone-crazed teenager. “It's a bit more basic than that. The bald truth is...I'm attracted to you.”

She grinned, her shoulders relaxing. “Okay, well, I think you're attractive, too. I mean, we had that great kiss and all. Obviously there is some chemistry. But I thought we decided that was a bad idea, that we'd just ignore that and have fun as friends.”

“We did. I promised to keep things platonic, and I intend to stick to that promise. Which is why I can't see you anymore.” He paused, needing her to understand. “Sweetheart, I'm at the point where ignoring it isn't an option anymore. So I'm backing out now, before I do something I regret.”

“Something you regret?” she parroted his words back to him slowly, as if trying them on for size. “Like what?”

Fisting his hands in his pockets, it took every last bit of his control to keep from showing her exactly what he meant. “Like kissing you silly, right here in the moonlight, where anyone could see.”

She froze, her pupils dilating at his words. “Which we agreed was a mistake. Neither of us is looking for a relationship, and you're leaving soon anyway.”

He nodded. Even if he did feel like a creep, it was better to be honest.

“So, now I'm supposed to thank you for your honesty and let you leave.”

“Something like that.”

She bit her lip, worrying at it, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from groaning at the sight. “Then we have a problem, because I've never been very good at doing what I'm supposed to do.”

* * *

Mollie meant to give Noah time to digest what she'd said, to let him respond. But he looked way too good, and the night was only so long. So she took matters into her own hands and climbed up onto his lap, straddling him on the floral couch.