Hot Winter Nights

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Hot Winter Nights Page 25

by Jill Shalvis


  “On what?”

  “On everything.”

  Molly glanced at Archer.

  He nodded at her and then turned and left them alone.

  “You got me a case,” she breathed.

  Lucas shook his head. “You got you a case. You earned it.”

  “But you went to bat for me with Archer or this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Actually, he’d gone to war with Archer, who didn’t doubt Molly’s abilities but did have concerns about her being a team player. Same problem he had with Lucas. But in the end, Archer had been willing to give Molly a shot rather than risk losing her, and that was all that mattered.

  “You did this for me even though you’re worried about me going into the field,” she said.

  He nodded again.

  Her eyes went a little misty and filled with affection and more, much more, and mended his fractured heart.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “You know why,” he said.

  Ignoring that comment for now, Molly thumbed through the case Lucas had fought for her to have.

  And she had no doubt that it had been a fight.

  She could love him for that alone . . . She kept reading and the more she read, the more she could see how bad the case was and the happier she got.

  Lucas, clearly seeing that on her face, had to laugh. “You’re an evil woman, Molly. I love it. I love you.”

  She stilled and looked up at him, her heart on high alert. “Say it again,” she whispered.

  “Molly Michelle Malone, I love you ridiculously.”

  She gasped. “Joe has a big mouth.”

  “Yeah, he does.”

  “Hey!” Joe said behind them.

  They both craned their necks and found Joe and the rest of the team all eavesdropping. Reyes was holding up his phone, FaceTiming with the girls, who appeared to be eating tacos from Ivy’s taco truck in the courtyard. Reyes shook his head. “I hate it when a couple argues and I missed the beginning and now I don’t know whose side I’m on.”

  “The woman’s side,” Max said. “Always. It’s safer that way.”

  “I heard from Old Man Eddie that Lucas wished on the fountain,” Max said. “I thought that was bullshit because, well hello, it’s Lucas, but now I actually think it might have happened.”

  Lucas turned his back on the circus and faced Molly. “We have dumbass friends.”

  “No doubt.” She was still feeling . . . wary. But other emotions were busting through that. Things like hope. And a tentative excitement. “You wished on the fountain?”

  “Yes. Pure desperation.”

  “Okay,” she said on a nod. “Well . . . first of all—”

  “Oh shit,” Reyes said. “Our boy’s toast.”

  Lucas turned and gave him a look.

  “Sorry,” Reyes said, “but when a woman says ‘first of all,’ you should run hard and fast because she’s got research, data, charts, and is about to destroy you.”

  Archer put a hand over Reyes’s face and nudged him to the back of the crowd. He then gave Molly and Lucas a go-ahead gesture.

  Molly turned back to Lucas. “First of all . . .” she repeated and then bit her lower lip. “You’re really okay with this?” she asked, gesturing to the iPad and the case intel.

  “Of course I am.”

  “Just making sure,” she said. “Because it’s a part of me. And for me to be with you, I need to know you accept all of my parts.” She held her breath on his response.

  “I love every single one of your parts.” He paused. “You want to be with me?”

  His shock brought her a smile. “Very much,” she said.

  “Holy shit.”

  This had a low laugh escaping her. “Yeah. That was my initial reaction too. So . . .” Suddenly she felt a little gun-shy. “This would be a really great time for you to tell me you want to be with me too.”

  He dragged her up against him, wrapping her up in those strong, warm arms she loved so much. “I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life,” he said and leaned down to kiss her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

  Pressed up against him as she was, she had an inkling, but she shook her head. “Maybe you should show me.”

  He smiled at the challenge and tightened his grip, lowering his head—

  “Hey!” her brother called from the hallway. “You’ve got an audience, you know.”

  “Archer,” Lucas called, never taking his gaze off Molly. “About that time off to fully recover . . .”

  “Take it,” Archer said. “Both of you. Get out of here. That’s a direct order.”

  “Hear that?” Lucas asked Molly. “A direct order.”

  She smiled. “Maybe it’s one we’ll actually follow.”

  He smiled and kissed her, and everything was in that kiss; his promise, his hope, his love. Everything she’d never known how much she wanted.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Molly waved goodbye to everyone at the pub and made her way through the holiday-decorated courtyard up to Lucas’s apartment.

  Their apartment, as he’d insisted she think of it. They were sharing both of their places and were looking for something to lease together.

  She was pleased with herself, having just closed up a missing person case for Archer. She no longer worked the front desk; they’d hired someone new for that. Molly had her own office and worked with the guys, and also on her own.

  She’d never been happier.

  She set her purse and keys on the sideboard. Had she not been two margaritas in and thinking about when Lucas might get back from the job that had taken him away for three straight days, she might’ve noticed there was already a set of keys in the tray.

  And that the lights were on. She turned to take in their pretty, shining Christmas tree when she was suddenly scooped up and tossed over a shoulder, making her gasp in surprise. “Lucas!” She swatted his delectable ass as he headed toward the bedroom. “You scared me!” Wait a minute . . . he wasn’t wearing a shirt and with a hum of approval, she licked along his shoulder blade.

  A low, sexy growl sounded from his throat and then she was in the air, being tossed to their huge bed. His body followed her down and then his mouth covered her with a possessive, hungry kiss, making her moan as her arms came up around his bare back. He kissed her until she was breathless and then pulled back with a smile. “You taste like a strawberry margarita,” he said. “Girls night?”

  “Yep.” With a smile, she buried her face in the hollow of his neck. He was fresh out of the shower and his scent made her dizzy with desire.

  “That might be the tequila making you dizzy,” he said, sounding amused.

  Oops. She’d spoken out loud. “I’m not drunk,” she said, kissing her way over every inch of his chest and then back up his throat, ending at his mouth.

  He smiled his very best badass smile. “Good. Because I want you to remember every second of what I’m going to do to you.” He divested her of all her clothes and she lost herself in his caressing hands and demanding kisses.

  “I missed you,” he whispered and was just about to slide home when someone rang the doorbell.

  “No,” Molly said, trying to get his mouth back on hers. “I’ve been dreaming about this for days. Days, Lucas. I need this. Bad.”

  “Mmm,” he said, his voice pure sex. “Tell me all about this dream, slowly and in great detail.” He bent to kiss her again, but before his mouth touched hers, the doorbell went off several times in quick succession, prompting him to blow out a frustrated breath. “They’re not going away.”

  “Take your gun,” she said. “Kill ’em quick and hurry back.”

  He was laughing as he bent to pull on his pants.

  “Don’t forget to hurry,” she said when he left the room.

  She was thinking about all the ways she was going to make him stop laughing and start moaning her name when he came back. He stood at the side of th
e bed with a bag hanging off one shoulder and a baby on the other.

  “That was Finn,” he said with a half smile. “Something you forgot to tell me?”

  Finn had been behind the bar serving Girls Night, bemoaning that he needed to get Pru away for an overnight all to themselves, and somehow Molly had opened her mouth and promised to babysit for the next twenty-four hours. After all, what could wrong in twenty-four hours? “I’m babysitting tonight! I forgot!” She slapped her forehead. “Shit!”

  Baby Penelope focused in on Molly with a toothless grin. A line of drool hit Lucas’s shoulder. “Shhhht,” the little cutie-pie said and bounced up and down in excitement at the sight of one of her favorite people.

  Molly froze in horror. “Did she just—”

  “Shhht,” the baby said again and laughed her full belly baby laugh.

  Fighting a smile, Lucas dropped the bag onto the bed and smiled at Penelope. “Uh-oh. Someone’s in trouble . . .”

  “This isn’t funny!” Molly cried, sitting up. “Shit can’t be her first word!”

  “Shhht!” Penelope cried out again gleefully.

  Lucas lost the battle and grinned. He pressed a kiss to Penelope’s sweet curls. “Time for a new word, sweetness, or your mommy’s going to kill the woman I love.”

  Penelope tipped her head back and stared up at him in clear adoration as she let out a stream of gibberish syllables.

  “That’s right,” he cooed at her. “Who’s my pretty girl?”

  Penelope all but melted for him and Molly found her ovaries doing the same. “You look good like that,” she said softly.

  He met her gaze, caught her serious expression and cocked his head. “Like what?”

  “With a baby.”

  He didn’t laugh, didn’t make fun. “You want one,” he said. Not a question.

  She’d honestly never given being a mom much thought. But in that moment, she knew she wanted to try. With Lucas.

  With a soft smile, he handed her the baby.

  “Where you going?”

  “A minute.”

  He vanished in his closet.

  “Lucas?”

  “A minute,” he repeated.

  She sighed at Penelope and tickled her belly. “Men are from Mars.”

  Penelope giggled.

  Then Lucas was back, still in nothing but his cargos. Bare chest, bare feet, expression baring his heart and soul as he sat next to her on the bed and handed her a small black velvet box.

  “Merry Christmas, Molly.”

  She stared at him. “Is this . . .”

  On his knees on the mattress before her, he smiled. “I’ve known you were meant for me since that very first night you slept with me.”

  She might have rolled her eyes, but her heart was pumping so loud she couldn’t concentrate. Penelope, sensing the attention was off of her, patted Molly’s cheeks. She took the baby’s little hands in hers while continuing to stare at Lucas. “I didn’t think we were going to go there—”

  “I wanted to give you time,” he said. “But I also want you to know that you’re my heart. My soul.” He shook his head. “My entire life. I tried fighting it, but I lost that battle a long time ago. I love you, Molly. Will you marry me?”

  “Are you asking me so that I’ll give you a baby as cute as Penelope?”

  Penelope smiled at the sound of her name, farted, and then spit up down the front of Molly.

  Lucas laughed and easily scooped up the baby, handing Molly a towel sticking out of the baby bag. He was good at this, she thought, and opened the ring box.

  And gasped at the beautiful diamond solitaire.

  “I’m asking you,” Lucas said quietly because Penelope had set her head down on his shoulder and her eyes were drooping, “because I can’t imagine you not in my life. With a baby, without a baby . . . I can go either way. What I can’t go either way on, Molly, is you.”

  She felt her eyes go misty and her heart swell at the words as she slid the ring on her finger. “It’s a perfect fit,” she whispered.

  Leaning in, Lucas kissed her over Penelope’s head and smiled. “Yes. We are.”

  An Excerpt from Playing for Keeps

  Keep reading for a sneak peek

  at the next book in Jill Shalvis’s

  New York Times bestselling Heartbreaker Bay series

  Playing for Keeps

  Coming February 2019

  From Avon Books

  Chapter 1

  Alone per usual, Sadie walked through the day spa, closing up for the night. Her coworkers had left, but even if they hadn’t, they’d just be walking around with their ridiculously expensive teas, talking about how hard this job was.

  Laughable, but as the lowest person on the totem pole, she’d managed to keep her opinions to herself. Still, if she was being honest, it was only a matter of time before her mouth overtook her good sense.

  As she moved around, shutting down the computers and dimming the lights, she dreamed about going home and replacing her daytime yoga pants with her nighttime yoga pants. Unfortunately, even after eight hours on her feet, that wasn’t in the cards for her tonight.

  When her phone buzzed with an incoming call, she glanced at the screen and felt an eye twitch coming on. “Hey, Mom.”

  “You always forget to call me back. I’ve been trying to discuss your sister’s wedding details with you for weeks now and . . .”

  Sadie listened with half her brain, the other half busy wondering if she had time to grab an order of sliders and crispy fries from O’Rileys, the pub across the courtyard, before heading to her other job. Her mouth watered at the thought. Lunch had been eons ago . . .

  “Mercedes Alyssa Lane, are you even listening to me?”

  “Of course.” She wasn’t listening. She was dreaming of what dessert might be. Maybe cookies. Maybe a brownie.

  “I’ll take that. Honey, you’re not feeling . . . sad again, are you?” She whispered “sad” like it was a bad word.

  And to be fair, it had been for most of Sadie’s teenage years. To say she and her mom had a complicated relationship was the understatement of the year.

  “Nope,” Sadie said automatically because she didn’t want to hear the “all you have to do to get over the blues is think positively” speech again, well-meaning as it was. But her mom was winding up for the big finish and once that happened, there was no stopping her, so Sadie braced herself because in three, two, one—

  “Because remember what Dr. Evans always said. To get over the blues, all you have to do is think positively.”

  Resisting the urge to smack her phone into her own forehead, Sadie drew a deep breath and sank into the cushy chair in her station, where her clients sat while she applied permanent makeup. This was her bread-and-butter job, seeing as the love of her heart job—working as a tattoo artist in the Canvas Shop right next door—didn’t pay enough yet. And maybe it was silly and frivolous, but she’d grown fond of eating.

  The problem was, all the hours on her feet working way too many hours a day left her exhausted.

  And maybe the teeniest bit cranky. “Mom, it’s not that easy.”

  “To think positively? Of course it is. You just do it. Take your sister . . .”

  Sadie closed her eyes and caught a few Z’s while her mom kept talking about her perfect sister Clara . . .

  “Sadie? Yes or no?”

  “Hm?” She sat upright, opening her eyes. She’d missed a question, but pretending she knew what was going on at all times was her MO. If she couldn’t blow her family away with her brilliance, her plan was to always baffle them with her bullshit. “Sure,” she said. “Whatever you guys decide.”

  “Well, that’s very . . . sweet of you,” her mom said sounding surprised. “And very unlike you.”

  Hoping she hadn’t just agreed to wear a frothy, pink Little Bo Peep bridesmaid dress, she shrugged off the sarcasm and let her gaze shift to the window. The Pacific Pier Building had been built around a cobblestoned courtyard that
each of the ground floor shops and businesses opened to, making it convenient for people watching.

  One of her favorite pastimes.

  But it was January in San Francisco, specifically the Cow Hollow District, and a thick icy fog had descended over the early evening with the promise of rain. The courtyard was lit with strings of white lights and lined with potted trees and wrought iron benches around a hundred-year-old fountain, and was usually a hub of activity.

  Tonight only the faint glow of the lights was visible behind the wall of fog. The courtyard was empty. Except . . . wait a minute. A form moved through the fog. A tall, leanly muscled form, his overcoat billowing out behind him like he was some sort of super hero.

  She called him Suits.

  He had a real name, she knew. Caleb Parker. But she’d never said it out loud, preferring her nickname for him, since, with the exception of the one time she’d run into him at the gym, she’d never seen him in anything but a suit. And though she wasn’t a suit kind of girl, she could admit there was something about watching him move in the clothes that had clearly been made to fit his rangy build and probably had cost more than an entire year’s rent.

  “Mercedes?” her mother said in her ear. “You still there?”

  Being full-named always got her back up. It wasn’t that Sadie had anything against it per se—okay, so she sort of did, because who named a kid after the car where that kid had been conceived?—but more than anything, she had a whole lot against her mother’s tone. “Yes, I’m still here.” She searched her brain for fragments of what her mom had said. “I’ll be on time for Clara’s wedding dress fitting appointment.”

  “Speaking of that, don’t forget you need to find a date for the wedding next month.”

  “Mom.”

  “What?” her mom asked, playing innocent. “It’s a wedding, you’ll need a date. And you’re past due to find your Prince Charming. Way past due.”

  “I don’t need Prince Charming,” Sadie said. “Forest animals who clean, yes, but it’s a hard pass on Prince Charming.” She made her way from one window to the next in order to keep Suits in her sights. It was misting now and his dark hair shimmered with the droplets every time he passed beneath a lamp post.

 

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