“Not necessary.”
“Molly, you just ruffled a whole bunch of feathers of a guy I don’t trust, not to mention his brother Tommy Thumbs. I don’t know about you, but I’m fond of your thumbs.”
“I thought you weren’t sure the Tommy Thumbs part was real.”
“Let’s just say that I’m keeping all our options open,” he said and got out of the car, coming around in time to catch her struggling to get in the little elf uniform without flashing her goodies to the world.
Reaching in, he easily hauled her up, blocking the money shot from anyone who might be around.
He kept his gaze on hers as she thanked him a bit breathlessly and yanked at the hem of the dress. Apparently, she hadn’t figured out that when she did that, the top of the stretchy sparkling elf green dress pulled taut across her breasts, both of which threatened to break free with each tug.
Around them, the night was near silent. Her neighborhood skewed older and quiet. It was nearing midnight. All the seniors were probably tucked into bed, hearing aids off, lights off.
“Dammit,” she murmured.
Already on high alert, he scanned their surroundings. “What?”
“I left my porch light on so I wouldn’t come home to complete darkness, but it’s off now. Which means my electricity’s out again.”
He reached for her hand, slowing her down so that he was slightly ahead of her. Letting her realize he was actively protecting her was always a gamble against the house, but she just shook her head. “It’s not Tommy looking to chop off my thumbs,” she said. “It’s my neighbor’s doing. Wait here.” Breaking free, she crossed the narrow common grass area to pound on the door next to hers. “Mrs. Berkowitz!” she called. “You’ve got to stop using your, um”—she glanced over at Lucas with an odd expression he couldn’t quite place—“massager while you’re waiting for your clothes to dry. You blew out the electricity again!”
A woman’s voice sounded from inside. “I’m sorry, honey, but a woman’s got needs!”
Molly sighed and headed back to her porch where Lucas stood, unable to keep from grinning.
“It’s not funny,” she said. “It could be tomorrow before the power company gets us sorted.”
He could hear the oddest sound coming from the region of their feet. Pulling out his phone, he thumbed on his flashlight and found the biggest, blackest cat he’d ever seen winding around Molly’s legs.
“TC,” she said in a warm, fond voice that Lucas had never heard from her before.
“Meow,” the cat answered.
“Aw, poor baby’s hungry,” Molly murmured to the cat who could probably eat them both whole if he wanted. She scooped a cup of food from a bin beneath her porch chair and filled an empty bowl. “There you go, pretty baby. Who’s a good kitty?”
The cat didn’t answer. He was head deep in the bowl, his purring turned up another notch as he inhaled his food.
“TC?” Lucas asked, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“Short for Tom Cat,” she said. “He’s a stray. I’ve tried to adopt him, but he won’t come inside. So I feed and love up on him whenever he shows up. It’s all he’ll allow.”
“He doesn’t look like he’s having trouble getting enough food,” he said diplomatically.
Molly laughed. “I think everyone on the block feeds him. He’s got a good gig. When I’m not quick enough to fill his bowl, he hangs off the front door screen and stares at me until I come outside.” She fumbled through her purse for her keys, which Lucas took from her.
He unlocked the door. She moved inside the dark place without hesitation, having the benefit of knowing the layout. He followed and when he heard her drop her keys, he bent to grab them—at the same time she did the same thing.
They bumped into each other and cracked heads. Hard. He saw stars, but reached for her, knowing she’d gotten it worse. “Shit. Sorry. You okay?”
“No! You’ve got the hardest head on the planet!”
“Are you sure?” he asked, gently running his hand over her head. “Because I’m thinking we’re probably tied in that category.”
They were face-to-face, plastered up against each other. The air seemed to crackle and they stared at each other for a long beat. Finally, he felt Molly take a deep breath. “You know,” she said softly, “Sadie’s pretty invested in me letting you be The One for a night.”
He felt a surprised smile curve his lips. “Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
“And how about you?”
“I didn’t want to admit it, but I’m starting to rethink things.”
Lucas was pretty sure his mind was playing tricks on him. But the truth was, he wanted her more than he’d wanted anyone in a long time, maybe ever, and that was saying something. He ran his hands up and down her arms and could feel goose bumps covering her skin.
And it wasn’t from being cold.
She was still leaning into him. He was six feet. Molly was five foot two in her bare feet, but she had a love affair for sexy-as-hell shoes, the higher the better, which he suspected played a role in her leg and back problems. At the moment she wore boots with at least three inches on them, though they were covered with the green elf shoe covers. Still, they put her at a convenient height that could make them both very, very happy.
“Rethink away,” he murmured. “Let me know what you decide.”
Chapter 13
#Scrooge
Molly’s heart was pounding and she had no idea what she thought she was doing, rethinking anything to do with Lucas Knight.
Oh wait, she did know what she was doing.
She needed this. Needed him. It used to scare her how much she wanted him as well, but realism was her friend. They were both adults. They could do this and move on because, one, Lucas didn’t intend to get any more attached than she did, and two, it was pitch-dark and he wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing.
But even as she thought it, the electricity flickered back on and the porch light shone in through the window.
She blinked up as Lucas whispered her name, and then his lips met hers in what started out as a light, questing connection but quickly turned hot and insistent.
She looked up when she felt his arms tighten on her, finding his gaze dark and intense on hers. “You finished rethinking things?” he asked. “Because—”
He broke off whatever he’d planned on saying when she slid her hands beneath his shirt to touch . . . yum . . . hot, smooth skin and the tough lean muscles that flexed as he tightened his grip on her.
“Molly,” he said, his voice a rough timbre. “I’m going to need the words.”
“I’m done rethinking,” she admitted.
“And?”
“And I want you. For tonight.”
The jacket that was his, the one that he’d wrapped around her shoulders, was removed in the next breath, his own shirt next. Then he nudged her a few feet until the backs of her legs hit her couch. His mouth still on hers, he lowered them both to the cushions, settling his weight carefully over her. “Where’s the light?” he asked, voice husky thick.
“No light.”
He paused for the slightest of beats but then carried on, kissing across her jaw to her neck and down, whispering inaudibles all soft and sexy-like. She couldn’t concentrate enough to soak in the actual words, but the erotic intent reached her just fine.
Then he moved further south, his quick, talented fingers tugging the dress off her shoulders, along with the straps of her bra. When he captured a bare nipple in his mouth, the heat alone bowed her back and had her crying out. She tried biting her tongue to keep the helpless and revealing desperate sounds to herself, but she couldn’t shut herself up. Not then, and not when he smoothly divested her of the rest of her clothes.
And then his.