Hot Winter Nights

by Jill Shalvis

  She let out one last shaky breath and lay there quietly, unable to talk. Hell, she could hardly think. Had they really just completely taken each other apart?

  “Pretty much,” he said in a rough voice, making her realize that she’d spoken out loud.

  Oh boy.

  He had one hand tangled in her hair and the other low on her bare ass holding her snugged up against him. They were both overheated and damp with sweat and yet she couldn’t muster up anything but bliss.

  His big palm slid off her butt and down the back of her leg. “You okay?”

  Was she? She took quick stock. They were on her floor, which she couldn’t remember if she’d vacuumed this week. Still, she’d never been more comfortable—or sated—in her entire life. She didn’t even try to move because she was pretty sure she couldn’t move. Her muscles seemed to have completely shorted out. All she could do was lie there with her face pressed into the crook of his neck, but she did manage a nod, too relaxed to get defensive about the question. Somehow he still smelled delicious, and utterly without thought, she rubbed her lips over his skin in a soft kiss before lightly licking him.

  Yep. He tasted as good as he smelled.

  “Did you just lick me like a lollipop?” he asked, voice low and lazy and laced with humor.

  Instead of answering, she sank her teeth into him.

  Hissing in a breath, he rolled her beneath him, slid a hand into her hair and tugged lightly to bare her neck. Then he returned the favor, lowering his head to take a nibble of her throat, the curve of her shoulder . . .

  And when he continued his way down her body, alternating teasing and nibbling, she arched into him. “Again?” she murmured, her fingers tightening in his hair.

  “Oh yeah, again.” But then he surprised her by lifting her into his arms and getting to his feet in one easy, athletic movement. “This time,” he said, “we make it to your bed. Where’s the closest light?”

  The question was a bucket of ice water over the top of her head. “Why?” she managed to ask.

  “I want to see you.”

  Yeah. Not happening. She squirmed out of his arms and blindly searched for her clothes. When she touched cotton, she grabbed it and pulled it over her head.

  It fell to her thighs. It was Lucas’s T-shirt.

  “Molly?”

  Dammit. She stepped back from his outstretched arms. “Don’t move, you’ll trip over something and hurt yourself.” She backed to the wall and hit the switch, blinking like an owl in the sudden light as her eyes tried to adjust.

  Lucas stood in the center of the living room, gloriously, unabashedly butt-ass naked, looking already perfectly adjusted to the light—and also perfectly at home. As he should, since he was incredibly built.

  But it was the look on his face that nearly stopped her heart. Easy affection. Light concern.

  He liked her.

  And she liked him. Way too much. She was feeling so much more than she thought she could, and that was terrifying. It also didn’t make any sense to her. She’d always needed to feel comfortable and cozy and safe to fall in love.

  She didn’t feel comfortable or cozy.

  As for safe . . . she wasn’t talking about her body. Her body felt safe with Lucas. In his hands, her body was putty.

  But her brain . . . her brain didn’t see this working out, and therefore she wasn’t safe.

  “I like the look,” he said of the sight of her in his shirt. He stepped toward her. “But there’s a look I’d like even better—”

  Again she backed away from his reach and he stopped. Cocked his head. “Do we have a problem?” he asked.

  “We don’t have a problem,” she said and then sighed. “I have a problem.”

  “And that is . . . ?”

  She looked everywhere but right at him. The ceiling. The floor. The couch that they’d just done the deed on . . . Man. She was never going to look at that couch in quite the same way again—

  “Molly.”

  She scrunched her eyes closed and then jumped when she heard her phone vibrating. She pounced on her phone, grateful for the interruption.

  It was her dad.

  “Sharon didn’t show,” he said.

  Sharon was his part-time home care nurse. She showed up two afternoons a week and stayed through dinner, which she either cooked for him or brought him. Tonight had been Sharon’s night and Molly looked at the time. Nearly midnight. He’d been alone way too long. “I’ll bring you dinner,” she said.

  “Did I wake you?”

  She resisted looking over at Lucas. “No.”

  “You sure?” her dad asked. “You sound breathless. Everything okay?”

  That depended on what part of her they were talking about. Her body, specifically certain parts of it, were more than okay. It’d just sung the “Hallelujah Chorus” and wasn’t opposed to another round. But her brain . . . her brain wasn’t sure if she was okay. Or if she’d ever be okay again. “I’m fine, Dad. What do you want to eat?”

  “A Big Mac.”

  “You can’t have those anymore. Your doctor says your cholesterol is still too high.”

  “You’re both fun suckers.”

  Yep. That was her mission in life. To be a fun sucker. “I’ll be there in thirty.” She disconnected and turned to Lucas. “I’ve got to go.” She rifled through her backpack for the pants she’d taken off at the village in order to change into her elf costume.

  “Commando,” Lucas murmured in an approving voice as she yanked up the pants without searching for her undies.

  She looked over at him and he smiled at her. “That alone is going to give me good dreams for the foreseeable future.”

  Ditto for her with nothing more than that sex-roughened voice of his. She grabbed a boot and hopped into it, toppling over. He winced for her and took a step toward her, but she gestured him away. “I’m fine!” Staying seated on the ground for the second boot, she got to her feet and blew the hair from her sweaty face. She turned in a circle and found the jacket he’d put on her shoulders earlier, which she put on over his T-shirt. She grabbed her purse and turned to the door.

  “Molly.”

  “Lock up when you go,” she said and, without looking back, ran off into the night like the chicken she was.

  Chapter 14

  #ElfingAround

  Back at the Pacific Pier Building twenty minutes later, Lucas walked through the cobblestone courtyard, freezing his ass off, every exhale making a little white cloud in front of his face. Old Man Eddie looked up from where he was warming his hands over the fire pit and stilled. “You get mugged?”

  Lucas, no shirt, no jacket, both thanks to Molly, shook his head. He didn’t speak because his tongue was cold and his nipples were about to fall off.

  Eddie’s frown turned into a slow smile. “Nice, man.”

  Avoiding the pub and the certain ridicule of his friends, Lucas strode past the fountain, purposely not looking at it, afraid he might turn into a sappy romantic and make a wish.

  The tattoo parlor was open late. Sadie was in there, leaning over a woman, working on her shoulder. She looked up at Lucas, the small smile on her lips going a bit bigger when she took him in.

  With a sigh, he took the stairs and let himself into his quiet, dark apartment, stripping on the way to a very hot shower to see if he could save his extremities. Afterwards, he stretched out on his bed, tucking his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling to contemplate his current problems.

  One, he’d let himself crumble his own walls.

  Two, Molly had gotten inside those crumbled walls and made herself right at home.

  Three, and this was the biggee, she’d run off on him tonight like her ass was on fire.

  And he still wanted her. What was that? She should be out of his system now, but if anything she’d only wormed in even deeper. He didn’t know if it was the way she’d held onto him, her fingers digging in as if she didn’t quite trust him not to pull away too soon. Or maybe it wa
s how she’d kissed him with her entire heart and soul, even though he was quite certain she had no idea how she’d given of herself. Or maybe it’d been those sweet, sexy sounds she’d made when he’d had his mouth on her, or when he’d been buried deep, so deep he’d completely lost himself in her . . .

  Yeah, sleep wasn’t going to happen. He got out of bed and bent to pull something from the pocket of his pants.

  Santa’s wallet.

  Molly was good. But so was he.

  You sure about that? a voice inside his head asked. Because she’d managed to pick your heart without you feeling a damn thing . . .

  Lucas had a doctor’s appointment the next morning and by some miracle was finally cleared for full duty. Relieved, he went to work but found concentration difficult. He couldn’t stop thinking of Molly and what had happened. He’d promised himself not to take it there and yet he’d done exactly that. On her living room floor of all places, like they’d been stupid, horny seventeen-year-olds who couldn’t control themselves.

  He’d always been able to control himself. Always.

  Okay, not always. After Carrie had died, he’d lost control. And then again when he’d lost Josh. But he’d found his way back to feeling human. The trick?

  To not love quite so hard.

  Or at all.

  “Yeah, he’s definitely on another planet.”

  Lucas blinked and refocused in on the meeting he was in with Archer and Caleb regarding one of Caleb’s companies that was having some security problems. “I’m not on another planet,” Lucas said. “I’m right here.”

  Ignoring him, Caleb turned to Archer. “Think it’s about a woman?”

  “Nah,” Archer said. “He doesn’t tend to let any women get to him. Kind of like you.”

  Caleb gave a small smile. “Look at the pot talking to the kettle.”

  “I’m with Elle, aren’t I?” Archer asked.

  “Sure, now,” Caleb said. “But there for a very long time you treated relationships like they were the plague.”

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “Is this a meeting to discuss our feelings or are we working?”

  Caleb slid him a look. “You tell me.”

  “Whatever, man, my mind slipped for a minute. I’m back now.”

  “It’s the brunette from the bar the other night, right?” Caleb asked. “She was hot.”

  “Her fingernails were painted red and green,” Archer said. “And they lit up. Never seen that before.”

  “You can tell a lot about a woman from her hands,” Caleb said. “For instance, if they’re wrapped around your neck, she’s probably pissed off at you.”

  “It’s not that brunette from the bar!” Lucas exclaimed. “Why is everyone so interested in my love life?”

  “He said love life,” Caleb said to Archer.

  “I heard it. Fascinating.”

  Lucas shook his head. “You’re both crazy. I’m not seeing the brunette.” At least not that one . . .

  After that meeting, things exploded. Hunt Investigations worked on a variety of cases at any one time and for whatever reason, three of them came to a head at once, requiring the whole team to put in forty-eight straight hours without a break.

  When the dust cleared, they’d cracked a cold case and gotten a man arrested for murdering his wife four years earlier. They’d proven a guy running for political office on the city senate was not only having multiple affairs, he was not living in the district he was running in, resulting in him dropping from the race. They’d provided evidence of corporate fraud to a huge beer manufacturer in the area, resulting in seventeen arrests, saving the company millions of dollars.

  On the third day, they’d landed back at the offices at the crack of dawn after a very long night. Hunter had instructed them all to go home and sleep it off, which Lucas had gladly done.

  He woke up to someone knocking on his door. Actually, pounding was more apt. He glanced at the time. Six-thirty p.m. Groggy, wondering who he’d have to kill for waking him up, he pulled open the door and stared blearily at Molly. He hadn’t seen her since she’d walked out on him, leaving him half naked in her apartment.

  She was still dressed for work in one of his favorites, a midnight blue wraparound dress with a tie on one hip. He had no idea what the material was, but it always messed with his mind because the cut said business and yet the material looked soft to the touch, clung very slightly to all those curves, and screamed sex. Her shiny heels matched and had a strap across her arch and around her ankle, and all he could think about was tugging on that bow tied at her hip. Would the dress glide to the floor and leave her in nothing but those heels?

  She was holding several bags from a retail shop nearby and a half-eaten pretzel. “I want the wallet,” she said.

  “Are you going to eat that pretzel?”

  “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “I’m too hungry,” he said and rubbed his belly. “Famished, actually.”

  She rolled her eyes and handed him the pretzel.

  He moaned as he took his first bite. “Would’ve been better with mustard. Were you shopping?”

  “With Elle,” she said. “I was trying to Christmas shop but ended up with new shoes and a pretzel.”

  “Worth it,” he said, shoving in the last bite.

  “Santa’s wallet,” she repeated and put her hands on his chest and shoved him back, following him in. “I know you took it that night at my place. And you’ve been gone working ever since, but I want it, Lucas. I want to see what name he’s going by and if there’s anything else of use in there before I slip it back to him.”

  “You’re going to give it back?”

  “I’m not a thief,” she said. “I didn’t mean to keep it from him for this long. Now where is it?” She looked around at his place.

  He knew what she saw. A guy’s place with a big couch and coffee table that doubled as a kitchen table and shit collector, an even bigger TV, several pairs of running shoes near the door along with an empty pizza box he hadn’t taken out to the trash yet.

  Elle had someone on staff who was in charge of keeping the building clean and neat. Lucas paid her to keep his apartment clean and neat as well, but she only came every two weeks, and in between those two-week visits, he wasn’t especially good at doing it for himself.

  “Where is it?” Molly asked, walking to the center of his living room and turning to him, hands on hips.

  The skirt on her dress flared out before settling against her thighs. “I’ve gotta admit,” he said. “I’m surprised at your restraint. It’s been three days. I thought you’d have cornered me by now.” He paused, curious as to whether she’d be honest or not. “Or at the very least, broken in and searched the place yourself.”

  She bit her lower lip and appeared to have an internal discussion with herself. Then she blew out a sigh. “I already did that.”

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “I broke in to search your apartment,” she admitted, but didn’t look happy about it.

  And he knew why. “And . . . ?”

  She tossed up her hands. “The minute I did it, I turned to leave. I couldn’t do it, okay? I couldn’t snoop through your things. It felt . . . wrong.” She rolled her eyes. “And also I realized you had a security cam, so don’t play surprised with me. You knew what I did and you knew what I didn’t do.”

  “Yeah,” he said, letting his smile escape. “Watching you spend that ten seconds wrestling with your conscience was the most fun I had all week.”

  “You’re an ass. Where’s the wallet?”

  “I still have it. I haven’t had time to dig in.”

  “I have time. Hand it over.”

  “You don’t have time,” he said. “I know Archer loaded you down hard with that new project we’re doing in conjunction with the local FBI.”

  She sighed and nodded.

  “Give me one more day with it,” he said. “I promise I’ll get to it.”

  “And you’ll tell me eve
rything you find.”

  “Everything,” he vowed, holding up three fingers like the Boy Scout oath.

  She rolled her eyes. “You were never a Boy Scout.”

  True. Very true.

  She shook her head and moved to the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Personal business.”

  “Is that a euphemism for another shift at the bingo hall?”

  “No, I’m on dad-duty tonight. Turns out, the Christmas Village doesn’t need me again until two nights from now. But Mrs. Berkowitz stopped by today to talk about my progress and I didn’t have much to tell her. I need progress, Lucas.”

  “You’re making progress.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  “You’re doing the due diligence,” he said. “You’re asking the right questions and following all your leads. Sometimes these things take time.”

  “Not when you guys do it,” she said.

  Mostly because they were willing to go the unconventional route when needed. At Hunt, they always worked for the morally right side. But that didn’t mean they always followed the letter of the law to the last crossing of the t’s. Sometimes there were . . . gray areas. He was comfortable working in those gray areas. He wasn’t comfortable with Molly doing it, which he realized made him a caveman.

  She rolled her eyes at him and turned to leave. He snagged her hand. “I’d like to go with you,” he said. “But I need five minutes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d like to. Is that okay?”

  She just looked at him, clearly not sure if it was okay or not, so he did his best to look like something she couldn’t live without.

  “Fine,” she finally said.

  He gently squeezed her hand in thanks, pulling her in so that her body just brushed his. He had no idea if she felt the bolt of awareness. Hell, maybe he felt it enough for the both of them, but he waited until she met his gaze. “You’ll wait?” he asked quietly.

  She was a little breathless. Yeah, she felt it too.

  And yeah, she’d wait.