Lucky in Love (10 page)

“So the usual,” Lance said. “You ever going to branch out? Add a twist of cookie dough, or go for a walk on the wild side and add sprinkles?”

Mallory very carefully didn’t look at Ty. “Not this time.” She’d already taken her walk on the wild side, and wild walk on the dark side was standing right next to her.

Lance served Mallory, then looked at Ty, who shook his head. No ice cream for him.

Which was probably how he kept his body in such incredible shape, Mallory thought as she reached into her pocket for cash. Ty beat her to it, paying for her ice cream.

“Watching your girlie figure?” Mallory asked him, licking at the ice cream as they walked.

His eyes never left her tongue. “Girlie figure?”

There was nothing girlie about him, not one thing. “Maybe you’re dieting,” she said. Another lick. “Fighting the bulge.”

Ty Garrison didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, and they both knew it. But he did have a very dark, hot look as he watched her continue to lick at her cone. Like maybe he was a hungry predator and she was his prey. The thought caused another of those secret tingles.

“You think I’m fighting the bulge?” he asked softly.

She reached out and patted his abs. Her hand practically bounced off the tight muscles there. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It happens to all of us,” she said lightly, taking another slow lick of her ice cream. “Does your break from work have anything to do with your leg?”

“Yes.” His eyes never left her mouth. She was playing with fire, and she knew it.

“You know this whole man of mystery thing isn’t as cute as you might think,” she said. “Right?”

“I’m not cute.”

“No kidding!”

A very small smile curved his mouth as he studied her for a moment, as if coming to a decision. “You asked if I’m military. I was.”

Her gaze searched his. “And now?”

“Like I said, I’m working on cars.”

“And when you’re not working on cars?” she asked with mock patience. “What do you do then?”

Again he just looked at her for a long beat. “It’s in the same vein as mechanics. I locate a problem and…rectify it.”

“But…not on cars.”

“No,” he agreed. “Not on cars.”

Huh. He was certainly
not
saying more than he was saying. Which wasn’t working for her. “And the leg?” she asked.

“I was in a crash.”

He hadn’t hesitated to say it but she sensed a big inner hesitation to discuss it further. “I’m sorry,” she said, not wanting to push. She knew exactly what it felt like to
not
want to discuss something painful, but she was definitely wishing he’d say more. And then he did.

“I’m in Lucky Harbor until I’m cleared,” he said. “Matt and I go way back. He set me up in a house to recoup.”

“Are you…recouping okay?” she asked softly.

“Working on it.”

She nodded and fought the ridiculous urge to hug him. He wouldn’t want her sympathy, she knew that much. “The leg is giving you pain. Are you taking anything for it?”

“No,” he said, and with a hand on the small of her back, led her into the arcade. Conversation over, apparently. He handed some money over to the guy behind the first booth.

Shooting Duck Gallery.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m going to shoot some ducks. And so are you.”

“I’m not good at shooting ducks,” she said, watching him pick up the gun like he knew what he was doing. He sighted and shot.

And hit every duck, destroying the entire row.

“Show off,” she said, and picked up her gun. She didn’t know what she was doing. And she didn’t hit a single duck. She set the gun down and sighed.

“That’s pathetic.” Ty handed over some more cash and stood behind her. “Pick up the gun again.” He corrected her stance by nudging his foot between hers, kicking her legs farther apart. Then he steadied her arms with his.

This meant he was practically wrapped around her, surrounding her. If she turned her head, she could press her mouth to his bicep. His very rock-solid bicep. It was shocking how much she wanted to do just that. She’d bet he’d taste better than her ice cream.

He went still, then let out a low breath, his jaw brushing hers. “You’re thinking so loud I’m already hard.”

She choked out a laugh, and he pressed himself against her bottom, proving he wasn’t kidding. “How do you know what I’m thinking?” she asked, embarrassingly breathless. “Maybe I’m thinking that I want another ice cream.”

“That’s not what you’re thinking. Shoot the ducks, Mallory.”

With him guiding her, she actually hit one, and her competitive nature kicked in. “Again,” she demanded.

With a rare grin, Ty slapped some more money onto the counter. “Show me what you’ve got,” he said to her, and to her disappointment, this time he remained back a few steps, leaving her to do it alone.

She hit one more out of the entire row, which was
hugely
annoying to her. “How do you make it look so easy?”

“Practice,” he said in a voice that assured her he’d had lots. “Your concentration needs some work.”

Actually, there was nothing wrong with her concentration. She was concentrating just fine. She was concentrating on how she felt in his arms, with his hard body at her back.

She liked it. Far too much. “Maybe I don’t care about being able to shoot a duck.”

“No problem.” He tossed down another few bucks and obliterated another row of ducks himself.

“Dude,” the guy behind the counter said, sounding impressed as he presented Ty with a huge teddy bear as a prize.

Ty handed it to Mallory. “My hero,” she murmured with a laugh, and he grimaced, making her laugh again as she hugged the bear close, the silly gesture giving her a warm fuzzy. Which was ironic because nothing about the big, tough Ty Garrison should have given her a warm fuzzy.

She knew he didn’t want to be her hero.

He dragged her to the squirt gun booth next, where he proceeded to soundly beat her three times in a row. Apparently he wasn’t worried about her ego. He won a stuffed dog at that booth, and then laughed out loud at her as she attempted to carry both huge stuffed animals and navigate the aisles without bumping into anyone.

Ridiculously, the whole thing gave her another warm fuzzy, immediately followed by an inner head smack. Because no way was she going to be the woman who fell for a guy just because he gave her a silly stuffed animal that she didn’t need.
You’re not supposed to fall for him at all
, she reminded herself. “This is very teenager-y of us,” she said.

“If we were teenagers,” he said, “we’d be behind the arcade, and you’d be showing me your gratitude for the stuffed animals by letting me cop a feel.”

“In your dreams,” she quipped, but her nipples went hard.

They competed in a driving game next, the two of them side by side in the booth, fighting for first place. Ty was handling his steering wheel with easy concentration, paying her no mind whatsoever. Mallory couldn’t find her easy concentration, she was too busy watching him out of the corner of her eye. When she fell back a few cars as a result, Ty grinned.

Ah, so he
was
paying attention to her. Just to make sure, she nudged up against him.

His grin widened, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “That’s not going to work, Mallory. You’re going down.”

Not going to work, her ass. She nudged his body with hers again, lingering this time, letting her breast brush his arm.

“Playing dirty,” he warned, voice low, both husky and amused.

But she absolutely had his attention. She did the breast-against-his-arm thing again, her eyes on the screen, so she missed when he turned his head. But she didn’t miss when he sank his teeth lightly into her earlobe and tugged. When she hissed in a breath, he soothed the ache with his tongue, and her knees wobbled. Her foot slipped off the gas.

And her car crashed into the wall.

Ty’s car sped across the finish line.

“That’s cheating!” she complained. “You can’t—”

He grabbed her, lifting her up so that her feet dangled, and then kissed her until she couldn’t remember what she’d meant to say. When he set her back down, she would have fallen over if he hadn’t kept his hands on her. “You started it,” he said. He gave her one more smacking kiss and then bought them both hot dogs for dinner. They sat on the pier, she and Ty and the two huge stuffed animals, and ate.

“So what are you doing to recover from the crash?” she asked.

“Swimming. Beating the shit out of Matt.” He took the last bite of his hot dog. “Who’s Karen?”

If her life had been a DVD, in that moment it would have skipped and come to a sudden halt, complete with the sound effect.

“I heard your mother say her name,” he said, watching her face carefully. “And you got an odd expression, just like now.”

“Karen’s my sister.” She paused, because it never got easier to say. “She died when I was younger.”

Concern flashed in his eyes, stirring feelings she didn’t want to revisit. Thankfully he didn’t offer empty platitudes, for which she was grateful. But he did take her hand in his. “How?”

“Overdose.”

His hand was big and warm and callused. He had several healing cuts over his knuckles, like he’d had a fight with a car part or tool. “How old were you?” he asked.

“Sixteen.”

He squeezed her hand, and she blew out a breath. “You ever lose anyone?” she asked.

He didn’t answer right away. She turned her head and looked at him, and found him studying the little flickers of reflection on the water as the sun lowered in the sky. “I lost my four closest friends all at the same time,” he finally said and met her gaze. “Four years now, and it still sucks.”

Throat tight, she nodded. “In the Army?”

“Navy. We were a crazy bunch, but it shouldn’t have happened.”

“All three of my siblings are a crazy bunch,” she said. “Not military, of course, just…crazy.”

He smiled. “Not you though.”

“I have my moments.” She blew out a breath. “Well, moment.”

“Us.”

She nodded.

“So I really am your walk on the wild side.” He paused, then shook his head. “I’m still not clear on why you chose me.”

“I’m not clear on a lot of things about myself.” She met his gaze. “But in hindsight, I think it’s because you’re safe.”

He stared at her, then laughed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Mallory, I’m about as unsafe as you can possibly get.”

Yeah. But for some reason, she’d somehow trusted him that night. She still did. “If you’re swimming,” she said, “you must be healing up pretty good. When do you get cleared to go back to work?”

He looked into her eyes, his own unapologetic. “Soon.”

“And it won’t be in Lucky Harbor,” she said quietly. She knew it wouldn’t, but she needed to hear it, to remind herself that this wasn’t anything but an…interlude.

“No,” he agreed. “It won’t be in Lucky Harbor.”

The disappointment was undeniable, and shockingly painful. She’d really thought she could do this with him, have it be just about the sex, but it was turning out not to be the case at all. With a sigh, she stood. He did as well, gathering their garbage and taking it to a trash bin before coming back to stand next to where she was looking out at the water.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I know.”

“I want to but I—”

“It’s okay.” He brushed a kiss over her jaw and then was gone, proving for the second time now that he was, after all, her perfect Mr. All Wrong.

Chocolate is cheaper than therapy, and you
don’t need an appointment.

T
wo days later, Mallory entered the Vets’ Hall for the town meeting and felt the déjà vu hit her. Pointedly ignoring the stairs to the second floor storage room, she strode forward to the big central meeting room. It was full, as all the town meetings tended to be.

Heaven forbid anyone in Lucky Harbor miss anything.

With sweaty palms and an accelerated heart rate, she found a seat in the back. Two seconds later, her sister plopped down into the chair next to her.

“Whew,” Tammy said. “My dogs are tired.” She leaned back and wriggled her toes. “You medical professionals are slobs, you know that? Took me an hour to clean up the staff kitchen, and I was ten minutes late getting off shift. And I was scheduled to have a quickie with Zach on his twenty-minute break too. We had to really amp it up to get done in time.”

“That’s great. I really needed to know that, thank you.” Mallory glanced over at the glowing Tammy. There was no denying that she seemed…well, not settled exactly, and certainly not tamed, but
content
.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tammy asked. “Do I look like I just had a screaming orgasm? Cuz I totally did.”

Mallory grimaced. “Again, thanks. And I’m looking at you because you look happy. Really happy.”

“I should hope so. Because Zach just—”

Mallory slapped her hands over her ears, and Tammy grinned. “Wow, Mal, you almost over-reacted there for a second. One would almost think you hadn’t had sex in forever, which isn’t true at all.”

“How in the world did you know that?”

Tammy grinned. “Well, I didn’t know for sure until now. Mysterious Cute Guy, right? When? The night of the auction when you vanished for an hour and then reappeared with that cat-in-cream smile?
I knew it
.”

Mallory choked. “I—”

“Don’t try to deny it. Oh, and give me your phone for a sec.”

Still embarrassed, Mallory handed over her phone, then watched as Tammy programmed something in. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you can’t forget your new boyfriend’s name,” Tammy said. “Here ya go.”

Mallory stared down at the newest entry in her contact list. “Mysterious Cute Guy, aka Ty Garrison.” She stared at Tammy. “Where did you get his number?”

“He left a message for Dr. Scott at the nurse’s desk, including his cell phone number. I accidentally-on-purpose memorized it.”

“You can’t do that—”

“Oh relax, Miss Goodie Two-Shoes. No one saw me.”

“
Tammy
—”

“Shh, it’s starting.” Tammy turned to face forward with a mock excited expression as the meeting was called to order.

Mallory bit her fingernails through the discussion of a new measure to put sports and arts back in the schools, getting parking meters along the sidewalks downtown, and whether or not the mayor, Jax Cullen, was going to run for another term.

Finally, the Health Services Clinic came up. Bill Lawson stood up and reiterated the bare bones plan and the facts, and then asked for opinions. Two attendees immediately stood up in the center aisle in front of the microphone set up there. The first was Mrs. Burland.

“I’m against this health clinic and always have been,” she said, gripping her cane in one hand and pointing at the audience with a bony finger of her other. “It’ll cost us—the hardworking taxpayers—money.”

“Actually,” Bill interrupted to say. “We’ve been given a large grant, plus the money raised at auction. There’s also future fundraising events planned, including next week’s car wash.” He smiled. “Mallory Quinn talked everyone on the board into working the car wash, so I’m expecting each and every one of you to come out.”

There was a collective gasp of glee. The hospital board was a virtual Who’s Who of Lucky Harbor, including some very hot guys such as the mayor, Dr. Scott, and Matt Bowers, amongst others.

“Even you, Bill?” someone called out.

“Even me,” Bill answered. “I can wash cars with the best of them.”

Everyone
woo-hoo
’d at that, and Mallory relaxed marginally. Bill had just guaranteed them a huge showing at the car wash. People would come out in droves to see the town’s best and finest out of their positions of honor and washing cars. They’d pay through the nose for it as they took pictures and laughed and pointed.

Lucky Harbor was sweet that way.

Still in the aisle, Mrs. Burland tapped on the microphone, her face pinched. “Hello! I’m still talking here! HSC will bring
undesirables
to our town. And we already have plenty of them.” Her gaze sorted through the crowd with the speed and agility of an eagle after its prey, narrowing in on Mallory way in the back.

“Bitch,” Tammy muttered.

Mallory just sank deeper into her seat.

“You all need to think about that,” Mrs. Burland said and moved back to her seat.

Sandy, the town clerk and manager, stood up next. “I’m also against it,” she said with what appeared to be genuine regret. “I just don’t think we need to deplete our resources with a Health Services Clinic. Not when our library has no funds, our schools are short-staffed due to enforced layoffs, and our budget isn’t close to being in balance. We could be allocating donations in better ways. I’m sorry, Mal, very sorry.”

The audience murmured agreement, and two more people stood up to say they were also against the Health Services Clinic.

Then it was Lucille’s turn. She stood up there in her bright pink tracksuit and brighter white tennis shoes, a matching pink headband holding back her steel grey/blue hair. She took a moment to glare at Mrs. Burland in the front row. The rumor was that they’d gone to high school together about two centuries back, and Mrs. Burland had stolen Lucille’s beau. Lucille had retaliated by eloping with Mrs. B’s brother, who’d died in the Korean War—not on the front lines but in a brothel from a heart attack.

Lucille was so short that the microphone was about a foot above her head. This didn’t stop her. “A Health Services Clinic would be nice,” she said, head tipped up toward the microphone, her blue bun all aquiver. “Because then, if I thought I had the clap, I’d have a place to go.”

The audience erupted in laughter.

“What?” she said. “You think I’m not getting any?” She turned and winked at Mr. Murdock in the third row.

Mr. Murdock grinned at her, his freshly washed dentures so unnaturally bright white they appeared to be glowing.

Lucille winked back, then returned to the business at hand. “Also, we couldn’t have an HSC in better hands than those of our very own Mallory Quinn. She’s a wonderful nurse and has her degree in business as well. She’s one smart cookie.”

Tammy turned to Mallory. “Did you actually graduate with both of those degrees?” she asked, clearly impressed.

Mallory slid her a look. “You were at my graduation.”

Tammy searched her brain and then shook her head. “I’ve got nothing. In my defense, I spent those years pretty toasted.”

Lucille was still talking. “I know some of you might say that Mallory’s too sweet to handle such a big responsibility as the HSC, and that her programs involving drug rehab and teenage pregnancies will be overrun by dealers and pimps. But we’re not giving our girl enough credit. If she can’t handle the riffraff that her clinic brings into town, well then her new boyfriend certainly can.”

“Oh my God.” Mallory covered her eyes. “I can’t look.”

Tammy snorted. “At least she didn’t call him your lover. And that’s not even your biggest problem. That honor goes to the fact that your only supporter so far is a crazy old bat.”

“You know,
you
could get up there and support me,” Mallory said.

“Not me,” Tammy said. “I’m shy in front of a crowd.”

Yeah, right.

Lucille took her seat. Four more people had their say, not a single one of them in favor of the HSC. Tammy had to practically sit on Mallory to keep her in her chair.

“Beating them up isn’t going to help,” Tammy said.

Mallory’s phone was buzzing with incoming texts, like the one from her mother that said:

Finally, a tall, broad-shouldered guy in faded jeans and mirrored sunglasses stood at the microphone, which came up to his chest.

Ty Garrison.

By this time, Mallory was so low in her chair that she could hardly see him, but to make sure she couldn’t, she once again covered her face with her hands.

“Gee, Mallory, that works like a charm,” Tammy whispered. “I can’t see you there at all.”

Mallory smacked her.

Ty spoke, his voice unrushed and clear. “The Health Clinic will improve the quality of life for people who’d otherwise go without help.”

The audience murmured amongst themselves for a beat. Then came from one of the naysayers, “There’s other places in other towns for people to get that kind of help.”

“Yeah,” someone else called out. “People here don’t need the HSC.”

“You’re wrong,” Ty said bluntly. “There are people in Lucky Harbor who
do
need the sort of services that HSC will provide. Veterans, for instance.”

No one said a word now, though it was unclear whether they were scared of Ty’s quiet intensity or simply acknowledging the truth of what he said.

“You can keep sticking your heads in the sand,” he went on. “But there are people who need help managing their addictions, people who don’t have a way to find a place to go that’s safe from violence, teens who can’t get STD education or birth control. These problems are real and growing, and a Health Services Clinic would be an invaluable resource for the entire county.” He paused. Could have heard a pin drop. “And Lucille’s right,” he said into the silence. “You couldn’t have a better person running such a place than your own Mallory Quinn. Each of you should be trying to help. I’ll start by donating enough money for a program for veterans, where they can get assistance in rehabilitation or job opportunities, or simply to re-acclimate to society.”

Mallory’s mouth fell open.

The entire place went stock still. A real feat when it came to the people of Lucky Harbor. No one even blinked.

“He is so hot,” Tammy whispered to Mallory. “You really ought to keep him.”

“Can’t,” Mallory said, staring at Ty in shock through the fingers she still had across her eyes. “We’ve agreed it was a one-time thing.”

“Well, that was stupid. You can put your hands down now. It’s safe. No one’s going to dare cross him. He’s pretty badass.”

He
was
pretty badass standing up there, steady as a rock, speaking his mind.
Offering his help…

“Hey, didn’t he also save your ass at the auction too by getting the bidding going?” Tammy asked.

Yeah, he had, and here he was at it again. Saving her ass.

As if sensing her scrutiny, he met her gaze for one long charged beat across the entire audience before walking back up the aisle to leave.

He’d stood up in front of the entire town and defended her. Her, a one-night stand.
What did that mean?
It meant he cared, she decided. The knowledge washed over her, and she sat up a little straighter, craning her neck to watch him go.

“My boyfriend’s ever so dreamy,” Tammy whispered mockingly.

Mallory smacked her again.

In spite of Ty’s rather commanding appearance, the next three people who stood up opposed the clinic. Then Ella Quinn had her turn. Still in her scrubs, she grabbed the microphone. “This is poppycock,” she said. “Anyone against this clinic is selfish, ungiving, and should be ashamed of themselves. As for my daughter Mallory, you all know damn well that she can be trusted to handle the HSC and any problems that might arise. After all, she’s handled her crazy family all her life without batting so much as an eyelash.” She searched the audience, found Joe in the fourth row, and gave him a long look. “And call your mamas. No one’s calling their mamas often enough. That is all.”

Joe slunk in his seat, his shoulders up around his ears. The little blonde sitting next to him gave him a hit upside the back of his head.

The meeting ended shortly after that, and Mallory was rushed with people wanting their questions answered. Would she really be supplying drug dealers? Doling out abortions? It was an hour before she was free, and even knowing she wouldn’t find him, she looked around for Ty.

But he was long gone.

That afternoon, a spring storm broke wild and violent over Lucky Harbor. Ty worked on the Shelby, and when he was done, he drove through the worst of the rain, flying through the steep, vivid green mountain canyons, his mind cleared of anything but the road. For once he wasn’t thinking of the past, or work.

He was thinking of a certain warm, sexy nurse.

He’d shelved his emotions years ago at SEALs training camp, long before he’d ever met one Mallory Quinn. But no amount of training could have prepared him for her.

She was a one-woman wrecking crew when it came to the walls he’d built up inside, laying waste to all his defenses. Only a few weeks ago, there wasn’t a person on earth who could have convinced him that she would have the power to bring him to his knees with a single look.