Page 75 of The Wild Card
And the idea was logical—kissing each other for the first time in public would be a disaster. But the truth is, I just wanted to kiss her.
Still do.
But I’ll need to apologize for my family first.
“You’re fake dating with kissing,” Winnie says unhelpfully. “So, you could be kissing at the loft.”
“That’s a good point,” Tank says, apparently not too old to jump into this. “If I need to come into town, I’ll stay elsewhere to give you privacy. And I’ll call before popping in.”
“We don’t need privacy, Dad.”
“Is there any help you’ll need from me, lawfully speaking?” Chevy asks.
“What kind of lawful help would we need?” Molly asks.
Chevy shrugs, and he must see the threatening look in my eyes because he doesn’t make some kind of joke about handcuffs. My family’s personal brand of humor tends to be a little more wholesome than the low hanging fruit of dirty handcuff jokes.Still.
“Anything at all,” says Chevy. “You’re both public figures. This could draw crowds or even paparazzi. Maybe you’d need a personal security detail.”
“I’m notthatfamous,” Molly protests, though her million-plus followers might suggest otherwise. She’s at the very leastsocial mediafamous.
“That won’t be necessary,” I tell Chevy. “But thanks for the offer.”
He nods. “Just let me know and we could discuss payment options.”
“You’d want me to pay you to be our bodyguard?”
Chevy raises an eyebrow. “To be your personal security when I’m off-duty? Absolutely I would.”
“So, Molly,” Chase interrupts. “What are you telling Mom and Dad?”
This question has a little edge to it and is a shift from the mostly good-natured but annoying questions from my family. I see Harper elbow Chase, and the two of them are muted for a second while they have a discussion.
I slide my hand to the back of Molly’s neck. Leaning over, I whisper, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she answers, but her voice is shaky.
“I know he’s your brother, but if you need me to step in, I’d be more than happy to.”
Molly tilts her head to look up at me, and her blue eyes are soft. “You’re good at that,” she murmurs, and her attention on me feels really good. Like sunshine I want to fully soak up.
“Good at what?”
“Making me feel safe,” she says.
I’m not sure why this proclamation feels so good, but it does. “Good.”
A throat clears, and I realize how close Molly’s and my faces are. Every person in the room—including the people on screen—is grinning. I shift a little until we’re at a more normal distance. Molly turns back to the screen where Chase and Harper are apparently done arguing.
“I’m not telling Mom and Dad the truth,” Molly says, her voice clear and strong. “I don’t want to make you lie for me. But you don’t talk to them much anyway, so hopefully it won’t be a big deal. If they ask, could you just say you’re in Austin most of the time so you don’t know much?”
Chase sighs. “I suppose.”
At that moment, Jo bursts through the front door. The dogs hop up and start barking as Jo sweeps into the room, delighted to see a roomful of people. She gives everyone in the room a hug, trailed by the dogs, who wag their tails hard enough to send two water glasses spilling.
Jo comes to us last and gives us both the same level of hug she gave everyone else. Meanwhile, the room has gone quiet. Because we promised them we’d tell Jo the truth too.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Jo tells Molly. “I named my unicorn Copernicus. He was some kind of astrologer.”
