can’t do this anymore.
Not sure you’ll even notice I’m gone.
She resisted the urge to mic-drop the useless device into a nearby mud puddle and instead returned it to her pocket.
Looking back, she should’ve expected the break-up. Brian had always been complaining about her long hours and frequent trips, even though she’d been up-front with him about her demanding schedule from the beginning. And their blazing fights over the past few weeks had only served to resurrect painful memories of her father’s indifference and cruelty when she’d been a child—the day he’d called her weak for crying over the death of her pet cat, the way he’d taunted her because she hadn’t been able to make friends with the popular girls in her class, the night she’d graduated from medical school and overheard her father saying what a hopeless, awkward mess she was and how embarrassed he was to have her for a daughter because she’d been denied the membership of the Ivy League exclusive clubs and cliques her father had deemed necessary to mingle in his lofty social circles.
Even now those words gutted Molly to her core.
Brian, in the end, had pushed those same agonizing buttons, causing Molly to withdraw inside herself until they’d been basically nothing but glorified roommates. Still, she’d thought the year and a half they’d spent together rated more than a two-line text to end it all.
She guessed she’d been wrong about that too.
One more reason relationships were off her radar. Not even one-night stands. She preferred certainties to messy emotions, thank you very much. And, honestly, why bother when people left once you’d opened up and revealed your true, flawed self to them. Luckily, she wasn’t likely to find a man who’d challenge those beliefs out here in Alaska.
Ignoring the lingering sadness in her chest, she concentrated on Officer Not Budging, still blocking her path. Intimidation was out of the question, given the guy had at least a hundred and fifty pounds on her, but maybe a healthy dose of mind-numbing logic would do the trick.
Whenever she felt overstressed or insecure, random facts always popped into Molly’s head and out of her mouth. Blind dates, heated confrontations, heated situations of any sort, really. She’d ramble on and on about useless information until the poor victim’s eyes glazed over and they wandered off in a fog of utter boredom.
Considering she was thousands of miles from home, hopelessly lost, and late for a potentially career-altering meeting, Molly couldn’t get much more stressed. Plus, she’d done some light reading on the flight—facts and figures about Alaska, atlases, safety manuals, wildlife guides. Perfect for boring an unsuspecting cop to tears.
“Officer Bentz, did you know traffic fatalities in this state increased by twenty-six point eight percent from fifty-six in 2010 to seventy-two in 2011? Also, the percentage of statewide traffic fatalities related to alcohol-impaired driving decreased from thirty-four point three percent in 2009 to twenty-eight point six percent in 2010...”
Molly hid a smile. The man was fidgeting, his expression growing more uncomfortable the longer she droned. Soon the poor guy stifled a yawn and gazed skyward.
Chalk up another win for her near-eidetic memory.
“Most interesting of all...”
Officer Bentz looked at Molly again, his eyes as blank as his expression. “Go on ahead. I’m sure you can help with something. In fact, ask for Jake. He’s with the ambulance crew tonight. He owes me one anyway.”
“Thank you very much.”
She turned on her heel and sidled through the maze of squad cars and fire trucks toward what she could now see was an overturned vehicle. During her emergency medicine rotation in Chicago, Molly had treated plenty of accident victims. That had been a while ago, however, and she’d been out of the ER trenches since signing on to do her TV show.
Fresh nerves and adrenaline quickened her steps and her pulse. Amidst the bright floodlights set up around the perimeter of the scene, Molly peered past the end of an ambulance in time to see a huge metal claw rip off a chunk of twisted debris from the SUV’s side.
“Dammit.” A man stalked over, his gray eyes sparkling with fury, his impressive build only adding to his imposing presence. “The cops are supposed to keep any rubberneckers away.”
Molly looked around to see who he was scolding and realized, too late, that it was her.
“Get out.” He stood at least a foot taller than her. And from the top of his dark brown hair to the tips of his black work boots the guy looked every inch the alpha protector. “Before you get hurt.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
She did her best to stand tall and forget about the fact this man was movie-star-handsome. Even with the beard. Molly had never gone for the lumberjack look before, but he made her seriously reconsider her life choices.
“The cop back there said I should ask for Jake.”
His gaze narrowed. “Who told you that?”
“Officer Bentz.” She pointed in the direction of her Range Rover. “I’m a doctor. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? I have a—”
“We’re ready,” said another guy. He was dressed in an EMT uniform, African American, maybe midthirties, and was calling from near the crash site. “Time to quit flirting and start working.”
Her gaze darted from the wreck to the scowling hunk before her.
Flirting? With me?
If glares and glowers were this man’s idea of how to attract women, it was entirely possible she’d finally met someone who was worse than her in social situations.
“Excuse me.”
Molly started to move around him, only to be stopped by his hand on her arm. Never mind the warmth spreading through her bloodstream, or the zing of awareness crackling like fireworks. Verbal sparring was one thing. Unwanted contact was another.
Outrage stormed through her and Molly tried to shake off his grip. “Let go of me.”
“You need to wait over there.”
The first responder pointed toward the area beyond the yellow crime scene tape, his rigid posture and stern expression obviously meant to wither any defiance. He was a man who was used to being obeyed—that much was obvious.
Molly squared her shoulders and glared. “And you need to remove your hand before I remove it for you. Permanently.”
The man’s eyes widened slightly and a hint of admiration ghosted across his features. Before Molly could dwell on it longer, however, he released her, crossing his muscled arms across his broad chest.
“Fine. Stay at your own risk. I have work to do.”
With that, the hunk jogged back to the wreck and joined the other man inside the half-crushed SUV. Soon they’d removed a small boy from the front passenger seat, stabilized his neck with a brace, then slid him onto a waiting body board before repeating the same with a woman.
Reluctantly, Molly’s curiosity about the daring rescuer blossomed.
