Hot Winter Nights

Lucas opened his mouth to say thanks, but realized Archer had been talking to Molly.

She beamed at the rare compliment from their boss, and Lucas shook his head to himself, once again thinking that Archer and Joe were wrong by trying to clip her wings.

The meeting ended and everyone filed out, leaving for the end of the work day. Lucas stayed seated, opening his laptop as it was his job to type up the report. Another reason to hate his doctor. When his phone buzzed an incoming call from his mom, he hit answer on speaker so he could keep typing.

“Lucas Allen Knight,” she said. She’d been in the states for forty years but she still had a slight accent from her homeland, Brazil, and the sound of her voice always made him smile.

Well, usually.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” she said.

He blew out a sigh. “Hi, Mom. And I haven’t been ignoring you, I’ve just been working long hours—”

“Honey, don’t even try. I know that this job—unlike your last—doesn’t keep you out of commission for weeks at a time.”

True, which was part of the reason he had a life again, although he wasn’t wholly sure he fully deserved it.

“So how are you, baby?”

He hadn’t told her he’d been shot, or that he was on light duty. If he had, she and his older sister, Laura, would have descended on him like dogs on a bone. Sweet, loving dogs, but still . . . “I’m fine, I promise. I’ll call you this weekend to catch up.”

“You mean you’ll come see me this weekend.”

He heard a snort and turned to find Molly standing there, unabashedly eavesdropping. “Mom.” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “I’m overworked here. Where’s my sympathy?”

“I have plenty of sympathy. For all the mamas whose sons don’t visit them. Did you know that Margaret Ann Wessler’s son visits her? And Sally Bennett’s son visits her too—”

“I’ll come visit you,” he said and put a finger to the twitch in his eye.

“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.”