“I think he’s bad,” he said.
She sighed. “Thanks.” And then she closed her eyes again.
“And your family,” he said carefully.
“What about them?”
He didn’t know much and he wanted to know more. In fact he was surprised by how badly he wanted that. But prying with Molly had never worked. She didn’t like questions. “You say you don’t let anyone too close. But you’re close with Joe, even when you’re yelling at him.”
“We’re close because we’ve had to be, you know?”
“Actually, no,” he said. “I don’t. The only person more closed-mouthed about yours and Joe’s past is Joe.”
She let out a low laugh and shrugged. “It’s a lifelong habit,” she admitted. “Mostly because there’s not all that much to say. We’re really not all that different from anyone else.”
He glanced over at her dryly.
“Okay,” she said on a low laugh. “So we’re a little closed off and maybe kinda hard to get to know, and not always . . . welcoming. But until Joe fell in love with Kylie a few months ago, it’s been just him and me against the world, sharing custody of our dad.”
“Don’t you have that backwards? You mean your dad had custody of you guys?”
“No.” She turned and looked out the window, giving him the back of her head. “We take care of him, always have.”
He resisted the urge to run a hand down her hair because she would take that as pity when what he really wanted to give was comfort. “How long ago did you lose your mom?”
“She died when I was a few years old. My dad was in the military. He came back from the gulf war to be with us. Only he wasn’t . . . the same. He had PTSD, though no one really knew it back then. He could manage to hold it together for a while, but then he’d lose it.”
“Did you have other family to help?”
“No, but we did okay. It wasn’t until I was around ten that he stopped being able to work entirely. And he needed caring for. So that’s what Joe and I did.”
Lucas tried to imagine this. He’d had a mom and a dad, both extremely active in all their kids’ lives. He’d had his siblings and cousins to keep him in line. He hadn’t lost Josh until four years ago. So he had absolutely zero experience to compare Molly’s childhood to. “Must’ve been rough, growing up like that.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know any different.”
That she didn’t appear to know about his brother’s death meant she hadn’t made use of Hunt’s computer programs to look him up. If she’d wanted to, she could discover how many fillings he’d had when he was eight. Or that in eleventh grade he’d gotten caught with the vice principal’s daughter in the janitor’s closet. Or that when he was twenty-four, his fiancée, Carrie, had died in a car accident and he’d missed her funeral because he’d been so deep undercover for the DEA at the time no one could reach him.
Or that when he’d lost his firefighter brother a few years later to an arson fire, he’d checked out of life for a good year, losing his job at the DEA while he was at it. Not that he’d cared much at the time. The memories of those gut-wrenching days always threatened to send him back to the deep, dark pit of hell he’d landed in. It was getting slightly easier to remember, but only slightly, and that in itself caused a setback because forgetting the pain meant he was forgetting Josh and he didn’t want to ever forget.
Molly put her hand on his arm and it was the oddest thing, but even though she didn’t know what she’d stirred up inside him, her touch settled him.
The drive home was quiet after that. Usual for him. Extremely unusual for Molly, who normally couldn’t do quiet to save her own life. He glanced over at her several times, but she seemed quite content to let the silence keep them company. “You good?” he asked.
She nodded.
He’d grown up with a nosy older sister and an even nosier mom. He knew when a woman was full of shit, but he also knew better than to call her out on it. “Hold up,” he said, reaching for her hand and holding onto it when he stopped in front of her place and she tried to hop out.
“No need. ’Night,” she said, looking to suddenly be in a hurry to escape him. That, or she didn’t trust herself—most likely wishful thinking on his part.
“I’m walking you up,” he said.
“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.