“Make sure to marry a man who puts his pizza rolls into the oven, not the microwave,” Laura told her, smiling at Will. “He knows good things take a little more time.”
Her husband winked at her and then moved in close for a kiss while the rest of them drank some more eggnog and nibbled on everything that wasn’t tied down. But soon the kitchen felt too warm and crowded, and Molly made her way down the hall, looking for the bathroom.
Lucas and his mom were ahead, just around a corner, talking. To give them some privacy, Molly turned to try another way back to the kitchen, but then realized they were talking about her and she stilled. Maybe a better person would’ve still managed to walk away but she couldn’t; her feet were frozen in place.
“I adore her, Lucas,” his mom said.
“Me too,” he responded, stunning Molly. “And keep your voice down. Thin walls, remember?”
“All too well.” His mom smiled at him. “Please stay the night. It’s snowing good now and the roads are slick. Besides, since you were shot and didn’t tell your own family, we need more time to be with you.”
He grimaced. “I’m fine, I didn’t want to worry you. And we both have to work in the morning. I’ve got all-wheel drive and great tires, we’ll be fine.”
“But the eggnog—”
“I didn’t drink any.”
“How about I call your boss and tell him we have an emergency?” she asked him. “You could stay then, right?”
Lucas laughed. “Mom, Archer’s got an ingrained bullshit detector. And Molly won’t want to stay. I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s really not what you think.”
“That’s what she tried to tell me too.”
“She was telling you the truth,” he said. “I had fantasies of pulling this off, letting you think we were on a date so you’d feel good about that, but it was a mistake.”
“Lucas. You tried to lie to me?”
“Yes,” he said. “And also, I tried to lie to Molly by letting her think the lie was for you, when it was really for her. She’s not into me that way, Mom. And if I have to accept that, then so do you.”
Molly’s mouth fell open at this.
But his mom shook her head. “No way, baby. There’s more. Yes, the chemistry, which is obvious to anyone with two eyes, but Lucas, there’s more.”
“There could be,” he agreed. “But she’s not going to let it happen.”
Molly stopped breathing.
“Lucas—”
“Mom, please. Just trust me, okay? I know a dead-end road when I see it.”
“But you care about her very much.”
“Sometimes, that’s not enough,” he said. “And life’s too damn short to keep bashing my head up against resistance.”
“Oh, honey,” his mom whispered. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t.”
“How? How can you avoid it?”
“I’m not going to let it go there anymore,” he said. “It was a mistake.”
Feeling sick, Molly backed away, moving down the other end of the hallway. She ended up in a den with a sliding glass door, which she opened to step outside. Feeling like a first-class asshole, she walked to the edge of the deck and stared up at the still falling snow. It was stunning, but she barely saw it because all she could concentrate on was the ache in her heart.
This was all her doing. Not allowing any sort of real relationship with Lucas. Tonight being “just a date.” All of it, her fault. And now it was over anyway, deemed a “mistake” by Lucas himself, which was 100 percent for the best.
Probably.
Realizing it was very cold out here without a crackling fire and Lucas’s arms around her, she turned back to the sliding door.
It’d locked behind her.
Great. She knocked, but no one came. And given how many Knights were in the house, a good many of them more than a little tipsy, no one was going to do a head count and figure out she was missing—including the man who’d brought her here because after all, it was a mistake. She was a mistake.
Wow. Look at her rock the pity party for one.
The snow began to fall harder, no longer quite as charming as it was stinging her face now. And it was absolutely the snow and not a few pity tears. Swiping at her face, she pulled her phone from her pocket and did the first thing that came to mind.
She texted Sadie and Ivy, because they were single too and would understand. Then she added Elle because even though she wasn’t single now that she was with Archer, Elle would still understand:
Men suck. They suck worse than root canals. They suck worse than when you get one of those hair balls stuck in your shower and it won’t drain. They suck worse than . . .
She had to actually pause here in her texting. Damn eggnog brain. Come on, Molly, you’re on a roll . . .
They suck worse getting your period in the middle of a staff meeting with a bunch of alpha men who’ve seen and done it all, but look faint if you mention the words menstrual cramps. And you know what else sucks? Love. Love sucks golf balls and I’m never ever going to allow it in my life.
She hit send so hard she broke a nail. Not five seconds later someone came out the slider behind her and she went still, knowing by the state of her traitorous nipples who it was.
A jacket was set on her shoulders and an unbearably familiar masculine scent wrapped around her like a hug.
“I got locked out,” she said into the silence.
“Yeah, I figured that out when I got your text.”
She froze and then whirled to face him, horrified. “What text?”
“The one about never ever loving someone. Which, by the way, is not only a long time, it also sounds like a Taylor Swift song.”
“Oh my God.” She whipped out her phone and stared at the text she’d sent to Sadie, Elle, and Ivy . . .
And Lucas.
It was a damn group message, probably leftover from when they’d been sending jokes back and forth about a week earlier. “Oh my God,” she said again on a moan and smacked her own stupid forehead just as a few texts came in.
Ivy: Dear Train Wreck, this isn’t your station, please get off at the next stop . . .
Sadie:On a scale of 1 to Nature Valley granola bars, how much is your life falling apart right now?
Elle:Rookie mistake, babe . . .
Molly groaned. “Oh my God.”
A touch of a smile curved Lucas’s lips as he eyed the texts he also accessed, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m guessing it’s been one of those days for you.”
It’s been ‘one of those days’ for years now,” she said.
“So definitely an accident then on the text.”
She stared up at him. “Do you really think I’d say all that to you on purpose?”
He shrugged. “You should’ve been able to say anything to me.”
Should have. Past tense. A reminder that this, whatever “this” was, was over. She should’ve been relieved at that, but the truth was she was hurt. And yet, looking up into his face, she knew he’d been hurt worse. Far worse. He’d lost the woman he’d loved. A brother he’d loved. To him, love meant a possible loss.
And yet he’d still put himself out there, willing to get hurt again. She admired that. She envied that. Maybe even dreamed of it for herself. Of course when she’d secretly dreamed of such a thing, she’d pictured a softer, gentler man than Lucas. One who wasn’t quite as . . . well, everything that encompassed and screamed alpha male like Lucas did.