Hot Winter Nights Read online

  “Bullshit,” he said. “I’ve seen you talking with the girls for hours on end without so much as taking a breath.”

  “Hey,” she said, and then sighed. “Okay, maybe true. But talking about . . . feelings aren’t my strong suit.”

  “Try anyway.”

  She looked up at him thoughtfully. “What do you remember of the other night?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’d tried going out for a run that day, the first time since getting shot, and got home hurting like a son of a bitch. I took two pain pills. Then I received a text to come down to the pub because a client had shown up to meet us and I’d forgotten. He bought a round of drinks and toasted to me, and I drank.” He shook his head. “A stupid decision, but that’s it, that’s all I remember until I woke up with you all over me.”

  “I wasn’t all over you—” She broke off when he arched a brow. “Fine,” she said. “I was all over you but you sleep like a damn furnace and I was cold, that’s all.”

  “Or,” he said.

  “Or what?”

  “I don’t know, Molly, you tell me. But I want the truth. And it’s not that we had sex, because that kiss . . .” Just thinking about it got him hot all over again. “That was most definitely our first. I’d have remembered any other, and I’d have remembered anything that followed.” He waited until she met his gaze. “And so would you.”

  She blushed, but also rolled her eyes. “Fine. We didn’t . . . sleep together,” she said. “I’d never have taken advantage of you that way.”

  At this very unexpected comment, he paused, surprised.

  “I was already at the pub when you arrived,” she said. “You seemed fine until you had alcohol. Then you got pale and shaky, and when I asked you if you were okay, you said you wanted to go to bed. The pub was packed and everyone was either playing pool, darts, or dancing. No one else seemed worried about you getting upstairs okay, so I walked you.”

  He reached out and cupped her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his. “And then . . .”

  “I got you upstairs.”

  He gave her a go-on gesture.

  She grimaced. “You hit the sack, tumbling me down with you.”

  He froze. “I forced you into my bed?”

  “No! No, nothing like that,” she rushed to tell him. “You were being playful, joking around about me wanting to tuck you in and suddenly you closed your eyes and were out. It happened so fast it scared me. So I stayed where I was.”

  “In my bed.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Because you were worried about me.”

  “Yes.” She nodded earnestly.

  “So I didn’t . . . try anything.”

  She bit her lip.

  Oh, Christ. He had. Visions of being slowly murdered by Archer were filling his head when she said, “It wasn’t you, it was me.”

  He felt his brows vanish into his hair as a relieved laugh escaped him. “You tried something?”

  “No, I didn’t try something. I just . . . wanted to.”

  He felt the smile curve his mouth and she gave him a little shove. “Would you be serious?”

  Something about her sincerity grabbed him by the throat. And the gut. She cared about him. And he cared about her. This wasn’t just fun and games, and he needed to be honest with her. Because no matter what his body wanted, he wasn’t ruled by it, and this wasn’t going to happen.

  Ever.

  She was looking up at him with her feelings on her sleeve, seeming half embarrassed at her admissions and half braced for rejection, and it was that which snaked in past his defenses and detonated his walls.

  He dropped his forehead to hers. “We can’t.”

  She closed her eyes and pulled back, turning from him. “Right. Of course not. That would be stupid. So stupid. I have no idea what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking.” She grabbed her purse and made a beeline for the door.

  He snagged her hand and reeled her back in.

  “Don’t you dare say it’s because you feel sorry for me,” she ground out.

  He stroked a finger along her temple, tucking an errant strand hair behind her ear, making sure she was looking at him when he spoke. “I don’t feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for me for missing out.”

  “Well so do I,” she said, tugging free. “Because I’d have rocked your world. I’m going now, off to solve my case.”

  She shut the door before he could say another word and he had to admit, he was pretty fucking impressed. There weren’t very many people who could render him stupid.

  But she managed it effortlessly.

  He followed her out. Normally he took the stairs to the courtyard after work, where he’d grab dinner, either from Ivy’s taco truck outside on the street or at the pub. There was a new sandwich shop and also a pretty good food truck on the street.

  But Molly had called for the elevator. Another indicator that her leg was especially bothering her. He followed her into the elevator, searching her face.

  She was good at hiding when she wanted to be, but the pinch of pain in her expression didn’t escape him. When she glanced up and caught him looking her over, he smoothly pulled out his phone and looked at the screen.

  “You don’t have to pretend not to notice,” she said as the elevators doors opened to the courtyard. It was a frosty cold night but Molly headed right into it, slowing at the alley to wave at Old Man Eddie, who was sitting on his crate. He wasn’t with Caleb this time but a woman, which was new. Her hair was silver leaning toward light blue, her skin the texture of an apple doll, and she and Eddie were laughing at something one of them had said.

  “This here is Virginia,” Eddie said in introduction. “She’s my new girlfriend. We met when she stopped by for some of my special mistletoe.”

  Eddie’s “special” mistletoe was most likely pot and if Archer caught the old man selling it to the geriatrics again, he and Spence would get into it like they did every year. “I thought you agreed to stop selling your . . . mistletoe,” Lucas said.

  Virginia smiled at Eddie. “He’s not charging me. Today’s our one week anniversary.”

  Eddie winked at her. “Just wait, I’m saving my good stuff for week two.” He looked at Molly and gestured to Lucas. “This guy treating you right?”

  Molly took a quick glance at Lucas. “Oh. It’s not like that.”

  “Huh.” Eddie sent a disappointed look to Lucas. “I thought you had more game than that.”

  “Game?” Virginia asked on a laugh. “Honey, last night you kissed me and farted at the same time.”

  “It was the tacos from the food truck. Tacos gives everyone gas. But hey. I can still kiss, right?”

  Molly laughed and kept walking. Lucas followed, slowing a minute later at the courtyard fountain. It’d been here since the mid-1800s, back in the days when there’d actually been cows in Cow Hollow. The building had been constructed around it, and legend stated that if you stood before the water and wished for true love with a true heart, it’d happen for you.

  The myth was perpetuated by the fact that there were more than a few couples who either lived or worked in this very building who claimed the legend had come true for them, some of them being his good friends. Because of that, he liked to give the fountain a wide berth.

  So of course Molly stopped in front of the fountain.

  She stared at the water for a minute, her hands shoved in her pockets, where he could hear the jingle of a few coins. Was she going to wish for love? He hoped not, but something of his thoughts must’ve shown on his face because she arched a brow.

  “Nervous?” she asked.

  “Of course not.” Skill Number One for his job—being able to lie his ass off.

  “Ever been in love?” she asked.

  He paused, not wanting to go there. But in the end, he figured she deserved a real answer. “Yes,” he said.

  He could tell by the look on her face that this wasn’t what she’d expected. “You’re surprised,” he said.