“She was online dating?”
Joe shook his head. “Not anymore. I went in and changed her profile to make her seventy-five years old, using a picture of one of the Golden Girls. I edited it to say she likes slow rides on her motorized scooter and drinking Metamucil while watching the sunrise, since sleeping gave her indigestion. I’m pretty sure that fixed things.”
Lucas didn’t like the thought of Molly online dating any more than Joe did. But the truth was, he didn’t like the idea of her dating at all. He was just beginning coming to terms with that, the fact that he wanted to be her one and only.
Not that he was ready to admit it out loud to Molly, much less to her brother and his own partner. But mostly he didn’t like that Joe had taken her options away from her. No one should do that. “She can handle herself,” he said. “You know that, right?”
“I do, but . . .” Joe blew out a breath, looking torn. “She’s my baby sister. I’ve always looked out for her. It’s not an easy habit to break.”
“She’s smart and she’s strong, not to mention levelheaded. Give her a break, man. Trust her instead of playing stupid games with her online profiles.”
Joe gave that a moment’s thought. “Yes, you’re right. Forget the profiles. I could just figure out who she’s seeing and run them through our programs to check him out.”
“Bad idea,” Lucas said. “Real bad.”
“Why?”
“Because she’ll kill you if she finds out.” Although maybe she’d kill her brother before he could kill Lucas . . .
Joe blew out a breath. “Damn. You’re probably right. Why are you probably right?”
“Because I’m smarter than you.”
Joe gave him a playful shove. When Lucas hit the wall, Molly yelled at them from her desk down the hall. “Stop acting like you’re in the MMA! Last time you put a hole in my wall, Archer made you pay for the fix-it bill. Why can’t you just pummel each other instead?”
Lucas straightened and wrapped an arm around Joe’s neck to give him a hard noogie. “Tell her you’re sorry.”
“No.”
Lucas tightened his grip and Joe yelled, “Sorry!” Then he shoved free, glaring at him. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Joe said. “You’ve been quiet, on another planet. And now, you allowed me to nearly put you through the wall. You’re . . . distracted.”
“I’m fine.”
Joe looked at him with an undercurrent of worry and Lucas sighed. “I am,” he said.
Joe wasn’t buying it, but at least he knew better than to push.
More than Lucas could say for himself. He was feeling more than a little uneasy for not telling Joe how he felt about Molly. But hell, he could barely explain it to himself. After Carrie died, he’d never have become involved with someone as vulnerable as Molly on any level, and he did not mean that as a commentary on her abilities. He meant emotionally vulnerable, which he actually considered a positive attribute. It was just that he himself had been so emotionally bankrupt for so long that he’d have steered clear in order not to hurt her. Maybe a few years ago, he might have slept with her once or twice, no regrets. More recently, he might’ve slept with her until she realized it was going nowhere and kicked him to the curb.
So what the hell did he think he was doing now?
He was taking a chance.
On purpose.
He was putting himself out there and it was fucking terrifying. He’d accepted that personal goals could change as life went on, but he was still cynical to the bone and wasn’t sure he believed people themselves could actually change. He’d been a lot of things. A punkass kid, a bored student, a brother, a son, a boyfriend, a fiancé, a DEA agent, an investigator. He’d been good at all but two.
He’d made a crappy boyfriend and an even worse fiancé.
But had he changed? He’d like to think so. And yet there was no telling for sure until he dove into a relationship with Molly with both feet, eyes wide open—something he wasn’t sure how to do, not to mention, he was completely unsure of how she felt about it.
What did she see in him? What did she expect of him? He supposed he needed to ask her, which he wasn’t looking forward to. As for what he wanted from her . . . he wanted to say it was her body’s unconditional acceptance for as long as he could get it. But he suspected he was looking for much more. His heart was asking for something his brain kept telling him he shouldn’t want.
A soul mate.
And . . . now he was sweating. But he’d already gone through the denial stage of this game with Molly, keeping his emotional distance. Even he knew when to grudgingly accept defeat. She mattered to him, more than anyone ever had.
Joe was staring at him, not looking overly thrilled. “You’d tell me if you weren’t okay, right? if something was wrong?”
“Sure,” he lied. Because no way was he going to try to explain his feels to anyone but Molly. And even then, the thought was daunting. A part of him knew he’d eventually have to tell Joe too. He knew this.
He hated this.
The next few hours were passed doing dreaded reports, and finally, starving, he went to the employee room.
One of Caleb’s assistants had just dropped off Thai takeout as a thank-you gift. Hunt Investigations did a lot of work for Caleb’s conglomerate, and was in fact on retainer. Last week, they’d discovered a subcontractor on one of Caleb’s new buildings was taking kickbacks. They’d provided the evidence needed to proceed in court.
Caleb was clearly feeling grateful.
And Lucas was feeling grateful for food. He’d gotten there just in time, too. The masses were huddled in close, piling Thai on their plates. By the time he got his own filled, the only seat left was right next to Molly. She looked up at him as he sat next to her. He smiled.
She didn’t.
Okay then. They’d shared orgasms, but they still weren’t quite friends. Good to know.
Archer strode in and proceeded to start the meeting without preamble, pointing at various members of the team when it was their turn to run through their current case. When Lucas was up, he opened his laptop and froze. The open tab was on one of their special search programs and Molly’s name was still typed in. He smoothly and quickly shifted the screen aside and presented his current case to the room, not looking over at Molly.
Shortly thereafter, the meeting was adjourned and everyone filed out. Molly stood and turned to him, hands on hips. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to; steam was coming out her ears.
“Okay,” he said. “I get that it looks bad, but I didn’t hit enter.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you?”
He stood and met her gaze straight-on. “Yes.” He waited for her reaction, but she wasn’t giving him much of anything. She was just looking at him, eyes intense as if trying to measure his ability for honesty.
Fair enough. “I found something on St. Nick,” he said quietly. “I’ve emailed you the file.”
“Did you?” she asked with a surprise that bothered him.
“Yeah. I did. Partners, remember? He’s got a lot of aliases to comb through.”
They were toe to toe now and the air in the conference room seemed to crackle around them. He didn’t know about her, but all he could think about was last night when they’d been this close and what they’d been doing to each other. Was she thinking about it too? How they’d stripped each other in the dark and spent the long hours of the night locked in erotic sensations. And she’d come through on the dirty talk too, big-time. At the memory, he smiled.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth and he knew, oh yeah, he damn well knew that she was thinking about it too. She wet her lips and gave a small little sigh that warmed him in places that had no business being warmed in a damn conference room at work. “Molly.”
She closed her eyes and tipped her face up, like she wanted him to kiss her—which he wanted more than his next breath. He put a hand on her hip and leaned in and . . .