by Kaylea Cross
But that’s not the way this worked. Although he was willing to let her believe it could. She wasn’t his intended target. The least he could do was try to lessen her fear and make this as easy as possible on her.
“Close them,” he said again, even softer as he took a step away, letting her think he was just going to leave.
Her lashes fluttered, and her lids lowered.
The instant they did, Rafe put a round through her temple. An instant, quick kill. No suffering. She wouldn’t have even felt it.
Holstering his weapon, Rafe jogged downstairs. The dog was still lying where he’d stunned it, ironic considering he’d meant to let it live. He let himself out the way he’d come and went back to his car, his mind already on the next job.
Molly Boyd.
A text came in from an associate. Molly Boyd booked flight to Portland tomorrow.
Rafe smiled. “Perfect.” He would get the money from her somehow. Whether or not she lived was entirely up to her.
Chapter Fifteen
“We should go dancing sometime.”
Jase looked up from his menu at the woman across the table. “Sorry?”
“Dancing.” Lauren pushed her long, shiny brown hair over one shoulder and gave him a soft smile. She was a successful investment banker a few years younger than him, with an impressive resume and a great personality. “I love to dance, but none of the guys I’ve ever dated have wanted to.”
“Really? None?”
“Nope.”
“Well that’s just not right.”
“I know, so we should fix that.”
He smiled back. Since he’d already canceled on her once the night he was sick, and in light of the way things had gone with Molly, he’d seen no reason to hold off on going out with Lauren.
Molly rejecting him outright and going back to North Carolina had been a major wakeup call. So much so that in a bid to try and cope with the pain, he’d pulled the trigger and asked Lauren if she wanted to meet up because it was time he forced himself to move on. He’d made it clear again that he wasn’t interested in anything romantic, and she’d seemed okay with it, even if he still got the sense she was hoping for more.
They’d gone for coffee the other day and things had gone well enough that he’d asked her to dinner tonight. He liked her and enjoyed her company. She was attractive, seemed sweet, was independent and at the top of her field.
On paper she was everything he was looking for. There was only one thing missing, and so far, it was proving impossible to get past.
She wasn’t Molly.
“Sure, that would be fun,” he said. And it might, if he could forget that she wasn’t Molly for a few hours. He was working on that, determined to push himself into a different state of mind. The only way to do that was to forge ahead and see what happened.
Lauren shot him a skeptical look over the top of her wineglass. “Did you really take ballroom dance lessons?”
“I did.”
“Not to seem judgmental, but you don’t look like the type of guy to take up ballroom dancing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
“Oh, come on. Have you seen you?” Her green gaze swept over him, and he didn’t miss the female appreciation there. His bruised and battered ego appreciated the boost.
“Actually, I took lessons for my grandma.”
“Your grandma?” she said, her expression intrigued.
He nodded. “They raised me after my dad died. She and my grandpa loved to go dancing at the Legion or wherever. After my grandpa died, she stopped going out, lost touch with her friends and started to shut down. I took a few lessons and surprised her by taking her out dancing one Friday night.”
Lauren made a soft, eager sound. “That is the sweetest thing ever.”
He shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “It turned out to be fun. I’ll never forget the way she lit up when I got her out on the dance floor.”
She put a hand to her heart. “Aww…”
Jase smiled as he remembered that night. “It was pretty great.”
“Is she still alive?”
The smile faded. “No. She passed away a few years ago.” He missed them both, but he had tons of great memories to carry with him.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. I’ve got lots of things to remember them by, like this jacket.” He stroked a hand over the front of the dark brown leather, lined with sheepskin. “My grandpa was navigator on a B-17 during World War II.”
Her eyes widened. “A Flying Fortress?”
Jase blinked, surprised. “Yeah. How did you know that?”
She waved a hand. “Everyone knows that.”
“Not everyone,” he said with a shake of his head. He put the menu down and gave her his full attention, growing more interested by the minute. “Are you a history buff?”
“Sort of.”
After that he started to really get into the conversation, surprised at how much they had in common. She came from a military family and had once considered enlisting herself.
They were chatting away over their main course when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it, waited until Lauren excused herself from the table while waiting for dessert to check it. When he saw the message, his abs clenched like someone had just sucker punched him.
Molly.
Flight was delayed in Denver but Sierra’s driving me back from Portland now. You home?
Jase stared at the message, torn. On the one hand he was glad that she was reaching out to him. On the other, he was dreading the first time he saw her and grappling with the finality that they would never be more than friends—and that was going to be hard enough for him after what had happened.
He couldn’t go back to being her buddy yet and hanging out like they had before, it hurt too damn much. He needed time to come to terms with everything and was trying his damndest to but it wasn’t any easier now than it had been the day she’d left.
I’m out right now, he typed back. When will you be home?
Around ten?
There was still a threat against her. If she was coming home, he needed to be there when she arrived to make sure she was safe. I’ll be there. Drive safe.
He slid the phone back into his pocket just as Lauren got back to the table. Needing to be home for Molly gave him the perfect excuse to cut the night short. “That was fast,” he said, standing.
“Well, I had plenty of incentive to hurry with you here waiting for me.” Her smile was sweet with a flirtatious edge, and he recognized the invitation there.
Everything about her appealed to him, but he wasn’t ready to date anyone yet.
You and Molly are never happening. Accept it.
He was trying, dammit. He would remain living in the downstairs suite until the threat against her was gone for good. Until that happened, he would have to suck up the pain and take it like a man.
With effort he pushed her from his mind and enjoyed Lauren’s company over dessert. She was charming and witty and clearly interested in him despite his warning about this not being romantic. “The weather’s supposed to be gorgeous this coming week,” she said after the waiter brought their bill, which they split at her insistence. “Any way I could interest you in a hike?”
He’d have to check with Molly about her schedule first. Her safety was his priority no matter how badly he was hurting. “I’d love that. I’m busy Saturday, but might be free Sunday.” Wedding-related things with Beckett.
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. “Sunday works.”
He drove her home, the conversation between them easy, and she even made him laugh by telling him a story about her and her older brother while growing up. When he pulled up in front of her house half an hour later, she undid her seatbelt and shifted to face him in the passenger seat rather than get out.
“I had a really good time,” she said.
“Me too.” Under different circumstances he would be totally into he
r.
She held eye contact with him, the moment stretching out. She wanted him to kiss her, and it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship.
But he couldn’t do it. Flat out couldn’t stomach the thought of kissing anyone other than Molly.
She turned you down and left to get away from you. Get over it and move on.
Way easier said than done, unfortunately.
He gave Lauren a smile, wishing he could feel differently. He honestly liked her. Maybe he’d change his mind about them over time. He hoped so, because he was tired of being alone, wishing for something that was never going to happen. “What are you doing next weekend?” he asked.
She watched him for a moment. “Nothing important.” She pulled out her phone to check her calendar. “You free Saturday the seventh?”
“I’m in a friend’s wedding party.” Beckett and Sierra had included a guest on his invitation, but he couldn’t bring Lauren when Molly would be there. “The reception’s supposed to wrap up pretty early, though, because the groom told me they’re leaving at just after nine. Are you free after that?”
Her delighted smile answered before her words did. “It’s a date.”
****
Molly rapped on the door to Jase’s suite the following Friday night and waited, her stomach muscles pulling taut. Her heart kicked against her ribs when he answered, looking good enough to eat wearing a button-down, plaid flannel shirt and jeans.
Damn, her physical response to him hadn’t lessened at all during their time apart. If anything, it was even sharper now that she’d had a taste of him. God help her, she wanted another. “Hey.”
That alert aqua gaze scanned the length of her, a frown tugging at his eyebrows. “You going out?”
She’d dressed up in leggings, boots and a form-fitting top that stretched over the mound of her belly. “With Sierra. There’s a book signing thing at Whale’s Tale with Sierra’s favorite author.”
He nodded, his expression closed. “You coming back here after?”
“Yes. I figure I’ll be home by between ten and eleven. If I’m going to be late, I’ll text you.” She could have texted him everything else too, but she’d wanted to see him. Since arriving home they didn’t see each other often, even though they talked on the phone or texted each day and lived in the same house. He was always home when she was, and she was all too aware it was to make sure she stayed safe.
“Okay. Have a good time.”
She forced a smile. It was the weekend and he was stuck home alone. Because he was trying to protect her.
She appreciated him looking out for her, but she also felt bad. She wished they could go back to being friends again. This constant strain between them was tying her in knots. Since coming home she’d gone back and forth about whether she was willing or ready to try a relationship with him. Twice she’d almost told him she was, provided they took things slow.
Except she had a feeling that if they ever crossed that line from friends to lovers, things would move anything but slow.
“I will. Thanks,” she said.
A horn honked out front. She hurried to the front door and dashed off the front porch holding her jacket over her head to shield her from the rain as she raced to Sierra’s car. She was tired, but needed to get out of the house.
“Hey, look at you, a true Pacific Northwesterner already, braving the elements without an umbrella,” her friend said in approval as Molly hopped into the passenger seat.
“Umbrellas don’t help when the rain comes in sideways or from the ground up,” she pointed out.
“True.” Sierra reversed and steered down the driveway. “So, you ready to meet a famous author?” Excitement radiated off her.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” The truth was, she’d been in a crap mood since she got back from her trip the other night.
Tonight, she was determined to shake off her funk and enjoy herself. So Jase had made a point of avoiding her whenever possible since she’d been home. And maybe they would never be able to repair their friendship to the level it had been before she left. So what? She’d live. God knew she’d weathered a lot worse to this point.
Whale’s Tale café and bookshop was all lit up when they parked out front, warm yellow light flooding through the front windows and glistening on the wet sidewalk and street.
“Wow, looks like Poppy’s got a good turnout,” Molly said. Every parking spot along the street was taken up on both sides and she could see a crowd of people filling the café portion.
“Well yeah, this is Zoe Renard we’re talking about.” Sierra grabbed her hand and all but towed her inside, bypassing the café and heading straight for the bookshop area. “Come on, I don’t wanna get stuck at the back.”
A buzz of conversation and laughter filled the air as they stepped inside the bookshop. They spotted Poppy at the back of the room, who waved and shot them a huge smile from the table that had been set up.
Dozens of women stood around holding books and bags, chatting to each other, some of them wearing Zoe Renard T-shirts. One woman Molly spotted even had a Zoe Renard-themed tattoo on her arm.
“Wow, that’s hardcore,” she murmured to Sierra. She hadn’t known readers did that sort of thing.
“Right? But I get it. Zoe’s fantastic.” She was all but bouncing on the balls of her feet as they waited for the guest of honor to appear.
Poppy disappeared for a moment into the back office, and then an expectant hush filled the room, spreading from back to front. Excited murmurs broke out as Poppy came back in, escorting a woman who could only be the famous romantic horror author herself.
Zoe Renard certainly made both a statement and an entrance. Molly liked reading well enough, but romantic horror wasn’t her thing. Actually, no romance appealed to her at the moment, because she was upset about the way things had turned out with Jase.
The guest of honor wore a long, ruffled black skirt and a black Victorian-style riding jacket. Startling bright blue streaks colored the front of her otherwise dark hair that was twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. Blood-red lipstick made her smile blindingly white, and the heavy, smoky eye makeup made her golden eyes stand out even from where Molly stood.
“Holy,” she whispered to Sierra, who seemed speechless. The woman rocked the Goth look.
“I know,” Sierra answered, her eyes glued to the woman.
She stood by while Sierra finally got her turn to meet the author, got an autograph and some pictures with her. Sierra was practically giddy as she walked away to find a seat for the question and answer session.
Afterward, Poppy brought the author over to introduce her personally. Zoe approached them with a big smile. “So, Poppy tells me you’re expecting?” she said to Molly, the edge of a southern drawl in her voice. Different than her own. A little slower, heavier. Deep South.
“Yes, I’m over the halfway mark now,” Molly answered, patting her stomach. She liked to touch it, rub it. And feeling the baby move always filled her with awe.
“Congratulations. I had my daughter last year.” Zoe’s gorgeous eyes lit up as she pulled out a phone decorated with a case that looked like a bat, all covered in black rhinestones. “This is Libby. Since she started walking she’s like a human tornado, but we love her anyway.”
Molly studied the picture of the dark-haired, blue-eyed toddler held by a gorgeous, powerfully built man. “Is that your husband?” He was huge, Carter’s size, with a chiseled jaw, dark hair and blue, blue eyes.
Zoe grinned. “Yes. Clay.”
Molly exchanged a look with Sierra before focusing on Zoe again. “Well, wow.”
She laughed, a sultry, husky sound that suited her personality perfectly. “Yeah, I’m a lucky girl, right? But the best part is, he’s a lot softer on the inside than he looks.”
Sierra sighed and put a hand to her heart. “Oh, I love a big, tough guy with a squishy center. Mine’s like that too.”
“They’re the best,” Zoe agreed, then turned her attention back to
Molly. “By the way, if you ever want to know what childbirth’s really like, call me. I’ll tell you the truth no one else will.”
Molly laughed, surprised and warmed by how personable and down to earth she seemed. Molly hadn’t expected that from a famous author. “I appreciate that.”
“Molly’s an ER nurse,” Sierra put in, “so she’s seen it all. Childbirth isn’t going to faze her at all.”
Zoe nodded, gave Molly a sympathetic smile even as humor danced in her golden eyes, and patted her arm. “Yeah. Still call me.” Before Molly could answer, she found herself engulfed in a musky, floral-scented hug. “I’m serious. Anything you want to know, just call.”
Molly patted her back, grinning at Sierra. Apparently, Zoe was a hugger. “I will.”
“Oh my gosh, that was insanely awesome,” Sierra gushed as they left just over an hour later. “I got a hug from Zoe Renard. And her husband? Holy shit. Don’t tell Beckett I said that, by the way. I’ll deny it.”
They arrived back at Molly’s place to find Jase working on his car in the garage. He stopped to talk to them a minute, though it still felt a bit strained. And she couldn’t tear her gaze from him, the ache inside her so strong she thought she might burst. “I put a letter on the kitchen island for you,” he said to her. “It’s from the insurance company.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She went inside and straight into the kitchen, Sierra following her. The couriered envelope made her heart pound.
She ripped it open, torn about what she wanted the letter to say. If they weren’t going to pay the settlement, it meant not being able to afford this house. If they did pay, it meant she was in greater danger from the people Carter owed money to.
She began reading while Sierra hovered nearby. The invisible cables around her ribs eased their grip even as her stomach tightened. “They’ve ruled it an accidental death. I’m getting the money.”
“Well that’s good news, right?” Sierra said, wrapping an arm around her. “Will you get the full amount?”
“Looks like.” A quarter million dollars.
