Page 35 of The Wild Card
Harper:I’m going to ask Chase if we need to get cash from the bank for the ransom. Or do you think he wouldn’t find that funny?
Collin:I find it funny but I don’t think your husband would
Collin:Remind him I’m a nice guy
Harper:Oh, ARE you? Hm. I didn’t know.
I shut off my phone, snickering, and return to the couch with the bowl of warm water. Molly has rolled over on her side, mouth open as she breathes heavily.
A true sign of beauty, I decide as I gaze at her, is the ability to look adorable even when sleeping with your mouth gaping open, softly snoring.
Crouching beside Molly, I set the bowl on the ground and give her shoulder a soft squeeze. “Can you sit up for me?”
“I’m up,” she says, sitting up without opening her eyes. The movement was perhaps too quick, as she sways a little before cracking one eyelid open. “Are we on a boat?”
I chuckle. “Nope. That’s a side effect of the Fireball, I’m afraid. Here—let’s get a little more water in you.”
I uncap the bottled water and help curl her fingers around it. Helping her lift it to her lips seems like a few steps too far. I watch her drink, my eyes following a drop that escapes and runs slowly over her chin and down her neck, disappearing into the collar of her shirt.
“Mmm,” she says, handing the bottle back. “Thank you. Still feel like the world is tilting, but that’s better. I didn’t drinkthatmuch.”
“According to Wolf, you drank plenty.”
“I get the feeling Wolf says a lot of things.”
Her words make a flurry of questions appear in my mind. What, exactly, did Wolf say to her tonight?
“So, you didn’t drink a fourth of a bottle by yourself?”
“No!” Molly looks horrified, and my worry for her eases slightly. “I mostly passed out shots to people. Though I did drink more than I usually do. And it wasstrong. I’m definitely not a whisky girl.”
She presses her fingertips to her temple, gently massaging. I notice her nails are short and unpolished. They look like they’ve been chewed down almost to the quick. A nervous habit? When she groans, I snap back into the moment and stop staring at her hands.
“I’ll give you some aspirin before bed. But first, let me have your feet.”
Molly eyes me with suspicion. “What are you going to do with them? You’re not like … into feet are you?”
I chuckle. “No. But yours need a little bit of TLC or they’ll be hurting as bad as your head tomorrow. I’ve got an Epsom soak for them.”
Though she’s still giving me a look, she doesn’t fight as I reach behind her calves and swing her legs over until I can lower her feet into the warm water. Molly groans, sinking back into the couch as I gently massage the unblistered parts of her feet. I try not to pay attention to her long legs extending from the same dress she wore earlier.
It is a challenge.
“So, what are our takeaways from the last day or two?” I ask. “Any life lessons we’ve learned?”
“No wearing boots you haven’t broken in for starters. And no more Fireball. Or accepting rides with men only wearing chaps who promise to show you their bunker.”
I’m glad she didn’t say dating—or pretending to date—me was a mistake. Yet again, a jealousy I don’t really have the right to roars awake inside me. “Wolf drove you to his bar? When did you even meet him?”
She must hear the edge in my voice because she looks at me through one heavy-lidded eye, the tiniest smile lifting one corner of her mouth. “Calm down, cowboy. I met him at the coffee shop. Do you know Kalli?” I nod, though my jaw is still tight. “She vouched for him. He was just being friendly.”
I harrumph. “Sure.”
“And he told me I’d probably find you or your brothers there.”
“You were looking for me?”
She doesn’t answer, her eyes dropping closed again. “What’s Wolf’s bunker like?”
