Kane (Arizona Vengeance 8)

Not just someone.

The one.

Mollie Callister.

Her hand is raised as if she were getting ready to knock. Apparently, I catch her by surprise, evidenced by her little yip and jump backward. Her dog, Samson, is by her side, sitting on his haunches and entirely in tune with her. He’s rarely walked on a leash, and he’s the best-trained dog I’ve ever seen.

And God… Mollie looks great, like a fucking breath of fresh air. But then again, she always does. Like sunshine and warm ocean tides and new daffodils in the spring.

Yes, my inner dork waxes poetic about this woman—my best friend in the entire world.

I let out a whoop of surprise, drop Nalia’s case on my foyer floor, and lunge out the door to snag Mollie by the waist. When I pick her up, her arms come around my shoulders as I swing her around in a welcome hug.

“What are you doing here?” I exclaim in surprise, not really caring. I’m incredibly happy to see her. It’s been almost nine months since we last saw each other at one of my games she flew into Raleigh to watch.

Mollie laughs, and fuck… that smile. Bright white with perfect fucking dimples on either side of her mouth.

As I bend to let her feet touch the ground, movement catches my attention. I’ve completely forgotten about Nalia. When I turn, I find her watching us with a genuine smile. It’s how I know there’s never going to be anything more than a hookup between us. After we just spent all weekend fornicating, she doesn’t even show the slightest bit of insult that I’m hugging another woman.

Still, I feel a little awkward with Mollie showing up right as another woman is leaving. Not that Mollie would think badly of me. We’re best friends… and, over the years, we’ve shared stories of our dalliances with other people.

It’s what friends do, right?

I make the introductions, emphasizing what Mollie is to me in case Nalia was wondering. “Nalia… this is Mollie Callister, my best friend from college. And Mollie… this is Nalia Raymond. She’s… um…”

“A friend,” Nalia says genially, holding her hand out to Mollie.

“Really great to meet you,” Mollie replies as they shake. She nods down to her dog. “This is Samson.”

“Well, hello, Samson,” Nalia says cordially, offering him one hand while the other holds her egg sandwich out of reach. Samson leans in and licks her palm, but his eyes go to the sandwich. It’s safe, though. He’s too well trained to make a jump at it.

Nalia swivels toward me, goes to her tiptoes, and presses a quick peck on my cheek. “Take care, Kane. Hope to see you soon.”

“Yeah, sure. Take care.”

Nalia offers Mollie a smile, then turns to go. We watch as Nalia grabs her wheeled carry-on and walks down the hallway toward the bank of elevators that will take her to the downtown streets of Phoenix.

“She’s beautiful,” Mollie says slyly.

“Yup,” is all I respond, then make a jerking motion with my thumb. “Now, tell me what the fuck you’re doing here. You said you were coming to visit in October.”

It’s barely the second week of September, yet she shows up on my doorstep without any warning. Not that I mind. Few people rank this position, but Mollie has an open-door policy into my home.

Making a slight motion with her hand, she releases Samson from his sit, and he trots into my condo. Mollie follows, and the minute she crosses the threshold, I notice her shoulders sag just a tiny bit.

I shut the door, turning to face her. “Seriously, Molls… I love surprises, but this isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

The smile slides off that beautiful tanned face, her crystal blue eyes pinching a little. With a sigh, she admits, “I’m just tired, Kane. I’ve been on the go and traveling for so long. I’m exhausted, and I need to rest.”

Bewildered, I survey her. This isn’t like Mollie. She’s a travel blogger. Traversing the open highway in search of adventure is inherent to her nature. She thrives on the thrill of not knowing what the next day will bring. Lives from one moment to the next. She has more energy than any person I know, and her zest is unparalleled.

But as I take her in, noting the dark circles under her eyes and her tanned skin that looks pale, now that I think about it, I start to wonder if she’s broken somehow.

Managing a reassuring smile, I snag her in a hug again. This time, though, I bring her to my chest so I can hold her tight. “Well, you came to the right place then, Noodle. I have a great guest room with your name on it, and you can rest for as long as you like.”

The sigh she lets out this time makes my chest constrict because I can tell by the sound that had I given any other answer, she might have shattered.