After holding her gaze, he nodded, ran a finger along her jaw, and did as she wanted. He left.
Chapter 29
#FirstRuleAboutFightClubIsYouDontTalkAboutFightClub
Joe went straight back to the office, doing his damnedest to set aside his personal emotions. There was a job to do, and the job always came first. But his chest ached like a son of a bitch with something he wasn’t used to feeling—fear.
Fear of losing her.
But he’d made his bed so he texted Archer because it was time for reinforcements. Archer agreed and luckily the team didn’t blink about coming in at three a.m.
As they did for every job, they gathered intel and went through it with a fine-tooth comb. Joe had already done most of the legwork, with the exception of looking into Kylie’s mom’s boyfriends.
And that’s where they hit pay dirt.
Or more correctly, Lucas did. He pushed his iPad to the center of the table in the conference room so everyone could see it.
Joe stared at the intel in disbelief. Kevin was indeed an art buyer now, but there were some ugly things deep in his past. The guy had been arrested on suspicion of arson.
Twice.
And both times had gotten off.
“Coincidence?” Lucas asked.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Archer said.
Neither did Joe. He wanted to go into the marina hot and drag that ass-munch right to jail, and he wanted that like yesterday. But he no longer ran on sheer emotion, balls, and lack of common sense. Patience had been drilled into him, along with the ability to make and execute a plan under any circumstances.
“Best to go in at dawn,” Archer suggested. “In that area, if we go in now, any lights we use will be reflected off the water and too easily seen.” He looked at Joe. “What time will Kylie be here?”
Joe hesitated and Archer went brows up. “You’re leaving her out of this?”
“Yes.”
“Your funeral,” Archer said with a shrug. “Let’s catch that asshole with enough evidence so she can be done with this.”
By that time it was four a.m. Everyone agreed to meet back in one hour and they all scattered, either to find food or catch a catnap.
Except Lucas. He stayed in the conference room, waiting until he and Joe were alone.
“What else is going on?” he asked quietly. “You’re off.”
“I’m fine.”
“You get in a fight with Kylie?”
Joe gave him a back the fuck off look, which Lucas ignored. “How did you screw it up?”
“Why would you assume I screwed it up?”
“Because you’re a moron when it comes to keeping a good woman,” Lucas said.
Hard to be insulted at the truth. “It’ll be fine.”
“Yeah?” Lucas asked skeptically. “What’s the last thing she said to you?”
“Why?”
“Did she smile at you? Touch you? Kiss you goodbye?”
“Actually,” Joe said, “she laughed at me.”
“Hell, dude. When a female laughs at you during an argument, she’s turned the corner from pissed to psycho and she’s about to murder your ass. You need your six covered?”
“I think I’m good,” Joe said wryly. Kylie wasn’t going to kill him. She was going to do worse—she was going to dump his sorry ass.
Knowing it, he drove home to shower and recharge. But when he pulled up to his place, there was the glow of an interior light that he knew he hadn’t left on. Pulling his gun, he let himself inside.
Molly was curled up on his couch with a bottle of tequila and his hidden stash of Girl Scout Thin Mints.
“It’s early to be drinking,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not drinking—though I thought about it. I’m just eating.” She shrugged. “And nothing’s wrong.”
“Then why are you robbing me blind?”
“I was hungry. Why did you have the cookies in the freezer behind the booze?”
“To keep them safe from you.” He snatched the box from her and helped himself to a rack. Breakfast of champions. “How did you know to search for them in there?”
She gave him a long look. “I know all your secrets.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do,” she said.
“Shit.” He blew out a breath and sank to the couch next to her. “You want to talk about something. Just say what you need to say. We both know you’re not going to give me any peace until you do.”
She nudged her elbow into his side. “Look at you, understanding the female psyche. So you can do it.”
Leaning back, he closed his eyes. “I don’t have the time or patience to play guessing games, Molly. Spit it out.”
“Okay,” she said. “Whatever’s going on with you and Kylie—”
“Nothing. Nothing’s going on.”
She raised a brow.
“It’s not,” he said.
“You blew it?” She looked him over. “You did. Dammit, Joe.”
He decided to plead the fifth on that one. It was the only play he had.
“Fine, whatever, it’s your love life. But she’s got the right to confront this dickwad who’s been terrorizing her. You can’t cut her out. She’ll never forgive you.”
When he just narrowed his eyes, she gave him the look right back. No one, and he meant no one, could give him shit or call him on his shit like his sister. No one else was allowed. And actually, she wasn’t allowed either. She just didn’t care that she wasn’t allowed. “I’m not cutting her out of anything,” he said.
“Oh please. Don’t forget, I work where you work. I run the office, for God’s sake. I get the same texts and e-mails all the guys get. You’re going in at dawn and you’re doing it without her. My question is this—are you insane or just stupid?”
Honestly, there was a strong chance that he was both. His phone buzzed an incoming text. “Hold that thought,” he muttered and pulled out the phone to look at the text in order to make sure it wasn’t one of the guys or Kylie.
Dad: Did you talk to the asshole yet?
Joe: Dad, I think you texted the wrong person.
Dad: Yep, meant that for your sister.
Joe: Wait. What asshole? Did you mean me?
Dad: . . .
Joe shook his head and put his phone away. “What does Dad want you to talk to me about?”
“He wants you to fall for Kylie. We have meetings about it. I’m to report back.”
Joe just stared at her, trying to absorb this. “And you’re going to report back what, exactly?”
“That it’s too late. You’ve blown it to smithereens.”
Joe’s eyes began to twitch. “I didn’t—”
“Look,” she said, mercifully cutting him off. “I’m going to tell you something.”
He grimaced. “Do you have to?”
She shook her head. “You can’t joke this away, Joe. You need to hear it. If you handle this without her and it all goes down and it turns out that this Kevin guy really is the one, you take away her chance of getting closure.”
He opened his mouth, but she held up a finger and then pointed it at him. “Just like you took away my closure,” she said.
He stilled in shock. “Fuck that, Molly. I didn’t—”
“But you did.” She nudged her shoulder to his. “I mean, yes, you came for me when I was in trouble. After they took me, you never gave up searching for me, 24–7, even when the cops told Dad that I’d just run away. You knew that I hadn’t taken off on some teenage whim. You knew I was in trouble, and thankfully you were like a bloodhound on the scent.” Her voice went soft and emotional. “And I’m so, so very grateful for that.” She inhaled a deep, shaky breath. “You have no idea how grateful.”