Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons 2)

“Then you know.” I lathered up my hands and ran them over her chest, down her belly and between her thighs. “You have to be careful.”

“I am careful,” she argued stubbornly as I put her back under the spray and soaped myself up. “I’m always careful—but I can’t become a recluse.”

As she brushed off my worry like I was being an idiot, the full effect of what I’d done getting involved with her hit me.

“Do what you want,” I said in irritation, moving around her so I could rinse myself off. She watched as I made sure all the soap was gone then stepped out of the shower. I grabbed a towel hanging from the rack and sniffed it before drying myself off.

“Are you mad?” Molly asked as she followed me out of the shower.

“Nope.”

I walked out of the bathroom and headed for my clothes. I was stupid for going over there. A lot of shit had happened since the shooting that had killed my little brother. Life went on, and it wasn’t exactly like I was living a squeaky-clean one. I’d been around guns—hell, I’d been shot at. The Aces were constantly having to police our boundaries and keep contacts and clients from fucking with us. The shit we shipped meant that we were always on guard.

But just the thought of a shooting involving women and kids made me fucking crazy. My reaction wasn’t normal, I knew that. But if it was up to me? All the old ladies and kids of the club would live inside the club gates, like a fucking commune.

Luckily, most of the old ladies had a keen sense of self-preservation. They didn’t take chances and the phrase ‘better safe than sorry’ was pretty much their way of life. They’d all seen firsthand what happened if you let your guard down.

So why had I thought that I could get with a woman who didn’t have the sense to stay the fuck away from a shooting? Why had I thought I should get with anyone at all? I wanted another person to worry about like I wanted the fucking clap.

I pulled on my jeans and buttoned up the fly just as Molly came down the hallway in a towel.

“I don’t understand why you’re mad,” she said, coming to a stop at the end of the couch, just as I nabbed my shirt off the floor.

“Not mad, Molly.” No, I wasn’t mad—I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. Showing up had been a bad idea.

“I thought we were having fun,” she said in confusion, taking a step forward. “I thought—”

“It was fun,” I cut her off, pulling on my socks and boots.

“Then why are you leaving?”

“I got shit to do and your kid’s gonna be up soon, right?” The words weren’t too bad, but the way I’d said them made Molly step back again, her arms crossing protectively over her chest.

“Right,” Molly replied, her chin lifting.

I pulled my flannel up my arms and stuffed my wallet in my pocket before walking toward her. I leaned down to kiss her, but my lips hit her cheek as she turned her face away.

“I’ll call you,” I said, moving past her toward the front door.

“Sure you will,” I heard her whisper behind me as I pulled the front door open and escaped through it.

I was such a fucking idiot.

Chapter 5

Molly

“Oh, come on,” Mel whined, flopping down across my bed. “I want to go out.”

“Then go out!” I snapped, shoving clean clothes into my dresser. “I’m not stopping you.”

“I don’t want to go by myself.”

“Too bad.”

I dodged her grasping fingers as I rounded the bed, picking up Rebel and setting her into the laundry basket I was carrying into her room. She barely acknowledged me as she played with a little board book that had a different textured animal on each page.

“You’re being a baby!” Mel called as she followed me into Reb’s room. “He probably won’t even be there.”

“Aren’t we going so you can try and see Rocky again?”

It had been three weeks since Will had left my house like his ass was on fire, and I hadn’t heard a word from him, not that he had my number or anything. We hadn’t exactly exchanged them when I was riding him on my damn couch. But Will knew where I lived and where I worked. If he’d wanted to see me, he would’ve. Clearly, he didn’t want to.

“I just want to go out!” Mel sang. “And my sister said she’d watch you-know-who, so why are you telling me no?”

“Because I don’t want to go.”

“Sure you do. You love hanging out with me and you love beer.”

“I don’t want to get dressed and wear makeup. I just want to hang out in yoga pants and eat my weight in ice cream. I’m fucking exhausted.”