Molly - Sarah Monzon Page 0,14

course of action before me, cajoling me to agree to his plans, a haggard and fear-filled father trembled in the face of imagined disasters. “What is it? What’s wrong? Is it Chloe? Did something happen to Chloe?”

Maybe coming to the hospital hadn’t been a great idea after all. If I’d known his first response at seeing me would be a full-blown panic attack, I wouldn’t have come. Or I’d have at least texted first to say that I’d bring by his forgotten lunch.

My stomach twisted as he scanned around me, searching for Chloe in a panic. In a move to get Ben’s attention and calm him down, I laid my hand on his corded arm. “Chloe is fine. She’s at preschool.”

He stilled, his gaze glued to the point where our bodies touched, and then he lifted his eyes. The dirty smudges on my lenses did nothing to distract from the effect of his gaze—orbs turbulent gray. I’d never seen a man’s eyes so tortured. The look he gave me—full of desperation—did something to my insides.

My soul seared. Branded.

Had I ever met anyone who had touched my heart in a single, agonized glance?

I hadn’t known him long—didn’t really know him at all actually except for what I’d gathered from our small talk at the ice cream shoppe the day before and our short exchange this morning before he rushed to work. But his desperation to find someone trustworthy to look after Chloe, his disappointment that he somehow didn’t measure up as a father because he was pulled in too many directions and couldn’t show up in time to pick his daughter up at school, the way he lovingly braided Chloe’s hair this morning, his alarm now, though completely unfounded and a little premature—they all shouted one fact about this man: He loved his daughter beyond compare.

Was there anything sexier on this planet than a father who adored and doted on and protected his offspring?

Questions I had no business thinking fluttered into my consciousness. Where was Chloe’s mom? From all accounts Ben appeared alone except for his daughter.

It is not good for man to be alone. The Bible verse floated unbidden into my mind, followed by a single word—helper. That’s what he’d said when he’d approached me as well—he needed help.

I wasn’t one to look at things that happened day-to-day and question whether the events were God-ordained or a simple fulfillment of consecutive occurrences, so I didn’t bother to analyze if my getting fired as a teacher’s aide had been a cosmic design to place me in a position to offer assistance to Ben. However, as he stared at me with his piercing eyes, I knew I would do anything I could for this man. I could do that while still maintaining my professional distance. I was, after all, now in his employ.

The fact I found him attractive didn’t enter into the equation at all. But…

“Molly.” Ben returned my grip, his fingers pressing into the skin of my forearm.

I blinked and refocused on the man before me, then lifted my other hand, a bag dangling from my fingers. A whiff of orange emanated from the bag and filled my nostrils, displacing the hypnotic scent of whatever manly soap Ben used. “Sorry if I scared you. I, uh, noticed that you’d left your lunch on the kitchen counter, so I thought I’d bring it by.”

His brows pulled over his eyes as if my words confused him. “You brought me my lunch?” He took the bag and peered inside.

“Umm. Yes?”

His gaze rose from the bag, but he still looked as if he were trying to figure out some complicated math question. Or maybe I had interrupted him in the middle of a difficult case—he was attempting to diagnose a patient who presented with all types of conflicting symptoms and his mind was wrapped up in that instead of the turkey and swiss sandwich he’d left behind.

I rocked onto the balls of my feet. “Well, I just wanted to drop that off, and now that I have, I’ll let you get back to work.” My hand raised in a pathetic little wave. “Have a good day.”

“Molly.”

I paused in my retreat and turned back toward him.

“Thank you.” He held up the sack. “For bringing this. You didn’t have to.”

It could have been my imagination…it probably was my imagination…but had some of the tension held captive in Ben’s strong jaw been released? I was counting this as a win whether the slight lift of burden from his