by Jill Shalvis
“For our family Christmas party next weekend.”
“Mom—”
“Everyone will be there, Lucas. Even my ex-husband.”
“You mean my dad?” he asked wryly. His parents had been divorced for closing in on two decades now and were friends. Well, mostly. In any case, they’d co-parented to the best of their abilities, including co-holiday-celebrating when feasible.
“Yes,” his mom said on a sigh. “And if you don’t show up, people are going to ask me why my son doesn’t come visit.”
Now both eyes were twitching. “Yes, fine. The Christmas party. I’ll be there.”
“And Christmas Eve two weeks after that. And Christmas morning too, because—”
“Mom—”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to be working. If you tell me that, I’m going to call your boss myself. Don’t think I won’t.”
He pictured his mom calling Archer to bitch him out and actually smiled. “I’ll be there.”
“Okay then.” Her voice softened and warmed, as well it should since she just got what she wanted in the first place. “And bring a date to the party—”
“Sorry,” he said. “Can’t hear you, bad connection—”
“Lucas!”
“Going through a tunnel . . .” He made a staticky sound in his throat before disconnecting.
“Need a little more phlegm in that static,” Molly said, clearly amused. “Do you always lie to your mom?”
“Whenever I can get away with it.” He pushed his laptop away and met her gaze. “You telling me you never give either of your parents a little fib here and there to keep your sanity?”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
“Come on,” he said in disbelief. “Never?”
“Well, my dad isn’t someone you lie to. He’s got one of those top-notch inner lie detectors,” she said, tapping her temple. “And my mom . . . she passed away a long time ago.”
He stilled and then shook his head at his own stupidity. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I didn’t. But I’m still sorry.”
She shrugged and turned to go.
“Molly—”
“Turn off the lights when you’re done in here,” she said. “I’m shutting down for the night soon.”
“Molly.”
She turned to him.
“Did the elves come to you?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Yes.”
“And you told them what?”
“That I’d help,” she said as if he was very dense.
She walked out of the room and he took a deep breath. His mom might be nosy, bossy, manipulative, and couldn’t seem to help herself from butting into his life, but she was also loving and protective and would fight to the death for any of the people she considered hers. He couldn’t imagine his world without her in it.
But Molly didn’t have any of that because her mom was gone.
Not for the first time, he cursed the fact that Joe, as good of a friend as he was, rarely opened up and never talked about his family life. In any case, Lucas wished he could take back the last few minutes. Hell, as long as he was rewinding, he’d like to go back a few days to before mixing a shot of bourbon with his pain meds and then sleeping with Molly.
Although if he could remember the sleeping with Molly part, he definitely wouldn’t want to take away the memory . . .
He shut off the lights and headed down the hall.
Archer was perched on the edge of Molly’s desk going through a file. Joe and Reyes stood near the front door talking.
“You out?” Archer asked Lucas.
“Not yet. Going to finish the report.”
Reyes looked at Lucas. “You never did say which chick you ended up with the other night.”
Lucas froze. There’d been a lot of times where living or dying had depended on his next move and yet in that instant, all skills deserted him.
“Let me guess,” Reyes said. “The stacked brunette at the end of the bar, right? She’s new, never seen her before.”
Lucas had to strain to remember the brunette. The brunette who hadn’t been Molly. He glanced at her and found her staring at him like the cat with a canary.
“It could’ve been the hot redhead at the pool table,” Joe said.
It was a predicament. For one thing, Lucas’s alibi was sitting right there, not that he’d point the finger at her. He’d never do that, and not just because it would mean his certain death, but because it was no one’s business who she slept with. “Yeah,” Lucas said. “Sure.”
“Sure to which?” Reyes asked. “Bar brunette or pool babe?”
Molly propped her chin in her hands like she was watching the most fascinating show ever.
“Both?” Joe asked hopefully.
“Pig,” Molly said to her brother, who shrugged.
“He’s single,” Joe said. “Gotta live vicariously through him now.”
“I’ll be sure to let Kylie know you think so,” Molly said. “Also, that ‘hot redhead’ at the pool table has a name. It’s Ivy and she’s pretty great.”
“Right,” Reyes said, pointing at Molly. “Ivy’s the taco truck chick—you know that new taco truck parked on the corner now? She makes amazing food.”
No one answered because everyone was looking at Lucas, waiting on his answer.
“None of your fucking business,” he told the room.
Archer let out a rare laugh and pushed off of Molly’s desk, heading back to his office. “Elle’s vote was that you ended up with no one.”
Lucas opened his mouth, caught Molly’s gaze, and then shut it. Elle was going to have to think he was a loser who made women up in his mind, and it wasn’t because Joe and Archer would kill him. It was because he wouldn’t rat out Molly for anything.
Joe and Reyes said their goodbyes and left, and Molly immediately stood up and grabbed her purse, looking to be suddenly in a hurry.
In a hurry to avoid him, he bet.
“’Night,” she said.
“You can run but you can’t hide,” he said quietly.
She laughed, but still left. When the door closed behind her, Lucas took a step to follow her and then realized someone was watching him.
Archer was back, leaning against the doorjamb. “So . . . how did things really go?”
Lucas knew he wasn’t asking about today’s job, but it was worth pretending. “Felt good to be out. I’m more than ready.”
“Good to know,” Archer said. “Now answer the question I asked.”
Lucas blew out a breath and gave it to him straight. “I’m not sure Molly can be deterred from taking the bad Santa case. The old ladies hit her pretty hard for a sympathy vote.”
“Are you telling me that a couple of old ladies are better at the game than you?”
“Hell no.”
“Good,” Archer said. “Cuz I’ve got a new job for you.”
“Why am I not feeling excited about this,” Lucas muttered.
“If she dives in to help the elves without asking me or Joe for help—”
“Are you kidding me?” Lucas asked. “She’s not going to ask you for help. She’ll never ask anyone for help and you know it.”
“I do,” Archer said. “So you’re going to offer to help her, and keep her safe while you’re at it. And since I value my life, you’re not going to tell her I put you on the case.”
“So . . . if she finds out, I’m the only one who’s going to die?”
“Correct,” Archer said.
Good to know everyone’s six was being protected except his own. He went back to his office. Not feeling all that great about the state of affairs of his life at the moment, he leaned back in his chair and studied his ceiling. Things had been much less complicated before he’d gotten shot. Before he’d slept with the woman who he was supposed to be protecting and keeping safe—without her knowing about it.
Most days after work, he hit the gym or
went on a run. But his doctor hadn’t cleared him for any of that. His doctor hadn’t cleared him for jack shit—including whatever he’d done with Molly . . .
Hold up . . .
If he’d had wild and crazy sex, wouldn’t his side hurt like a son of a bitch? He scrunched his abs. A twinge, yes, but no real pain. Inconclusive, dammit. Because chances were, for sex he’d have fought through any pain.
Hmm. He opened his laptop. He wasn’t supposed to be able to access his fellow employee files. No one was supposed to be able to. But he’d been hired for his dubious IT skills so it wasn’t a stretch for him to locate Molly’s home address.
He left the offices and strode through the courtyard that was decorated for the holidays with garlands of evergreen entwined with twinkling white lights in every doorway and window frame, not to mention a huge Christmas tree between the entrance and the alley. He entered the alley, and as expected found Old Man Eddie sitting on an upside-down empty crate. The guy was a sixties throwback with a shock of long white hair that tended to stick up around his head like Einstein’s. Everyone, including Spence Baldwin, the owner of the building and Eddie’s actual grandson had tried to get Eddie off the streets. All efforts had been met with sweet but steely resistance. Today Eddie was on his phone playing a game, presumably against the man sitting on another crate across from him.
Caleb was in a suit, an expensive one by the looks of it, and yet seemed perfectly at home in the alley.
“Fucker,” Eddie said fondly.
Caleb snorted. “Your problem’s that you play with your heart, old man.”
“Right,” Eddie said. “I forgot that you don’t have one.”
Caleb nodded a quick greeting at Lucas, still playing the game. He was a venture capitalist, some kind of a tech genius, and a longtime client of Hunt Investigations. Lucas had been tasked with guarding the guy’s back on several occasions now, and since one of those occasions had involved a near and not accidental mugging where Caleb had entirely held his own with some impressive MMA-like skills, Lucas had nothing but respect for the guy.
“Feeling better than you were the other night?” Caleb asked Lucas.
“Yeah, man, cuz you were looking pretty out of it,” Eddie said. “That’s probably why that cutie-pie from your office walked you up to bed.” He slid him a sly smile. “She didn’t leave until morning, so I’m guessing it was a good night for you.”
Caleb went brows up and finally gave up the game to stare at Lucas. “Wait—Molly? You spent the night with Molly? You have a death wish or something?”
Or something. “How much for you to never repeat any part of that story?” Lucas said to Eddie, ignoring Caleb for now. He wasn’t worried about Caleb. Caleb knew the value of secrets and kept plenty of his own. But Eddie loved and adored nothing as much as some good gossip.
Proving it, the old man smiled slyly and held out his hand.
Shit. Lucas fished out a twenty.
Eddie just kept smiling.
Lucas added a second twenty.
Eddie’s hand remained out.
So Lucas added a third twenty, and then a fourth.
“That should do it,” Eddie said.
“Sucker,” Caleb said with a shake of his head.
Chapter 5
#DefineNice
Lucas drove to Molly’s place, trying to concentrate on the radio and the Cal football game playing. He’d gone to Cal State Berkley because that’s where the scholarship had been. Also, his dad had gone there; it’s where he’d met Lucas’s mom—who hadn’t been a student but worked at one of the campus cafes. Lucas had never been all that passionate about school, but he was definitely passionate about football. Like his dad, he’d played as a wide receiver for a year, although mostly as a bench warmer, before blowing out his ACL, which had required surgery, but he still loved the game.
But even that love couldn’t keep his mind on the Cal broadcast. Instead he was trying to figure out how best to handle Molly. Keeping anything from her was sheer stupidity, but telling her the truth would only make her go undercover and on her own. He couldn’t risk that, couldn’t risk her.
She lived in Outer Sunset, a district of San Francisco that was the most populated in all of San Francisco. Streets were narrow, buildings old and worn and overfilled, but well cared for.
Her building was no exception. There were eight units, four on the bottom, four on the second floor, which, thanks to the heavy fog, was nearly invisible. Molly lived on the ground floor in one of the units facing the street. Her lights were on, but no one answered his knock. He noted that her neighbor—not one of the elves—was staring at him from behind her curtains with a pinched look on her face, so he sent her what he hoped was a harmless smile and knocked on Molly’s door again.
The door still didn’t open, but Molly’s voice sounded from a hidden speaker. “What do you want?”
“To talk to you.” He looked around and spotted a small camera above her porch light. She never failed to surprise him. “Smart,” he noted. “Now open up.”
“I don’t think so.”
He stared into the camera. “We need to talk.”
“So talk.”
“Not happening while I’m standing on your porch with your non-elf neighbor staring at me with her phone in her hand.”
“That’s just Mrs. Golecky. And she’s probably calling the police because you look like a bad guy in your all-black SWAT gear.”
He thunked his head against the wood of her door.
“I’d hurry and start talking before the cops arrive,” she said.
“You’re really going to make me say it out here?”
Silence.
“Okay,” he said. “Fine. We’ll do this your way, but heads-up, Mrs. Golecky just opened her window so she’s getting all of this.”
More silence. Never let it be said that Molly took her stubbornness lightly.
He blew out a breath and opened his mouth to tell her that he’d partner up with her on the elf case, but that’s not what came out. “I need to know what happened the other night,” he said instead. Because he was an idiot.
The door opened and Molly stood there, brows raised. “You sure you want to hear it? I mean . . . suppose you were really bad. And not the good kind of bad.”
“I was not.” Hell. “Was I?”
“Well, it’s a little hard to remember,” she said. “Since it didn’t take but a minute.”
From behind him and across the hedge bush between their front doors, Mrs. Golecky snorted.
Having had enough, he nudged Molly aside and let himself in.
She was grinning at him as he shut and locked her door and faced her. “Looking pretty pleased with yourself,” he said.
She shrugged. “I’m just surprised you’re being so persistent on this line of questioning given your level of . . . performance.”
“Are you going to keep insulting me or tell me the truth?”
She laughed, and damn, it was a nice sound. “Can’t I do both?” she asked.
He gave a single shake of his head and looked around. Her place was small. Tiny, actually, but neat and warm, filled with comfortable-looking furniture and lots of personal touches like pictures and books and thriving plants.
He’d never kept a plant alive in his life. When he’d been with Carrie, they’d shared a place during the times he hadn’t been undercover. She’d loved plants too and he’d been banned from touching them, claiming his bad attitude killed them dead.
He hadn’t cohabitated with a woman again.
Or owned a plant.
“About the other night,” he prompted.
“What about it?” Her eyes were sparkling with amusement. Clearly, she was enjoying the hell out of this.
“I—” He broke off, catching sight of her kitchen table. There were three elves sitting there drinking tea.
“Tell me this is a tea party,” he murmured to Molly. “And that you’re not figuring out their bad Santa situation.”
> “Of course I’m trying to figure things out for them. I told them I’d help.”
And that’s when he realized they were far more alike than he could have imagined.
Molly gestured to the first woman. “You’ve met Mrs. Berkowitz, my neighbor. And Mrs. White, her knitting partner. And that’s Janet, one of their coworkers.”
“Here,” Mrs. Berkowitz said, holding out a cup of steaming tea toward him. “It’s ginkgo. It’ll help you with your memory problem.”
“And you can take kava and ashwagandha for your, er, not being memorable problem,” Janet said.
Then they all cackled while Lucas did his best not to bash his head against the wall. “Any new developments?”
“None of your business,” Janet said.
Great. Terrific. With Archer’s directive in his head—watch after Molly, don’t let anything happen to her—he pulled her aside and hopefully out of earshot range. “If you’re serious about this—”
“I am,” she said, no longer smiling, looking very serious indeed. “And there’s something else.”
“What?”
“You’re going to help me.”
Which is exactly what he’d come here to do, but he was curious—and highly suspicious—about why she’d ask. Actually, she hadn’t asked at all; she’d told. She was nothing if not Joe’s sibling. “What makes you think so?” he asked.
“Because it you don’t, I’ll tell Archer and Joe about us.”
Lucas took a deep inhale. “So you hate me and want me to die.”
She laughed. “No.” Her smile faded. “But I’m not stupid, Lucas. Or reckless. I can do the legwork on this, but I also want to go to the village and poke around. I need to get a feel for the place and hopefully find someone to talk to, someone who knows Crazy Nick’s last name, for one. But I need backup. A partner. Someone who’s smart, resourceful, and not afraid to bend a few rules.”
“You have my attention,” he said.
She smiled. “Do you happen to know anyone else with those attributes besides yourself?”
Shit. He looked into her pretty but sharp-as-hell hazel eyes and knew he was sunk.
She turned from him and moved across her living room to the kitchen to sit at the table with the ladies, clearly still favoring her right leg. In the past, he’d tried asking her about it, several times actually, and she’d always brushed off his concerns while at the same time making it clear it was none of his business.
