Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons 2)

“So I gave her a bath when she woke up this morning—but her hair was still tinted blue!” Molly snickered again. “I had to wash her hair again to get the stuff out and she got blue crap all over her favorite blanket, which she was completely pissed about.”

“Why didn’t you just leave it?” I asked as I pulled into my parents’ driveway.

“I couldn’t bring her to your parents’ house with blue hair,” Molly said seriously, reaching to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Moll,” I called as she fidgeted with her dress. “Molly, look here.”

She turned her head toward me, but she didn’t meet my eyes.

“Look at me.”

“What?” she asked, finally making eye contact.

“My parents wouldn’t think twice if you brought your kid dressed in a monkey costume. They don’t give a shit about stuff like that.”

“Okay.”

“Now, quit fidgetin’.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. Quit it.”

“You don’t get to say anything, you’re not meeting my dad for the first time.”

“Sugar, I know your dad.”

“Exactly!”

“And you know my mom.”

“When I was a kid,” she said, drawing out the last word in annoyance.

Damn, she was cute. I grabbed her braid in my fist and pulled her lips to mine, sliding my tongue into her mouth as she opened it to protest. That was all it took for her body to relax, her shoulders dropping as her hand found the front of my shirt.

“Now, come on,” I ordered, giving her one last kiss, because fuck, she tasted good. “Dinner’s waitin’ on us.”

“I can’t believe we were just making out in your mom’s car,” she grumbled as she hopped out of the car and moved toward Rebel’s door.

“Five years ago, you wouldn’t have cared,” I teased, grabbing her bag as she unbuckled the baby.

“Five years ago, I wouldn’t have been kissing you at all,” she shot back, pulling Rebel to her chest.

I scowled at the thought of her with Mason.

“Well, you’re mine now,” I said roughly, setting my hand at the base of her spine to steer her up the walkway.

“I didn’t agree to that.” Her voice was light, but there was thread of warning in it that I ignored.

Because I’m a fucking idiot.

“You will,” I promised as I used the hand holding her bag to open up the screen door, then held the heavy wood one so she could step inside.

“Sounds like Mom’s in the kitchen,” I said, walking toward the noise as Molly froze in the entryway.

“Should I take off my shoes?” she asked, glancing down at the lace-up boots she was wearing.

“Hell, no.” I laughed, then realized that she was really fucking nervous. Not just slightly nervous, but ready to fucking bolt.

I walked back toward her, and caught her chin in my hand as she looked everywhere but at me.

“Just dinner, baby,” I said softly, making her eyes finally meet mine. “Not a job interview.”

“I’m not really good meeting new people,” she whispered in embarrassment, her eyes drifting from mine again.

Jesus. I’d never in my life seen her act the way she was then, and I’d grown up with her. She’d always been quiet, but this level of shyness was way beyond what I remembered. Rebel laid her head down on her mom’s shoulder, like she could sense something was wrong.

“They’re gonna dig you,” I promised, lifting both my hands to the sides of her face so she couldn’t look away from me again. “And stop lookin’ away from me when you’re talkin’ to me.”

“I can’t help it,” she muttered in frustration.

“Next time you do it, I’m gonna reach out and pinch your nipple,” I warned, making her eyes go wide. “Don’t care where we are or what we’re doin’.”

“I don’t do it on purpose!” she hissed.

“Bet you’ll be more conscious of it now,” I replied with a grin.

“Asshole,” she whispered.

“Hey, when’d you get here?” My dad said from somewhere behind me, making Molly’s body tense.

I ignored him and leaned forward, kissing Molly hard. I didn’t slide my tongue in, figuring that would freak her out, but the kiss was still open-mouthed and wet. I felt Rebel’s fingers in my beard near my ear, but I didn’t stop kissing her mother until Molly had relaxed against me.

“William Butler Hawthorne,” my mom called out just as I was pulling away. “I’d like to see Molly, too, you know.”

I smiled and turned, grabbing Molly’s hand as I towed her toward my mom.

“Jesus, you got pretty!” Mom said happily as she pulled Molly in for a hug. “I knew you would be with that long blonde hair.”

“And I actually brush it now,” Molly replied jokingly.

“You were so cute with those lopsided pigtails. I could’ve picked you out of a crowd—from the back.”

Molly laughed quietly, but stepped back against me as my dad came closer, draping his arm over my mom’s shoulders.

“Molly, this is my husband, Asa,” Mom introduced them.

“Call me Grease,” Dad said gruffly, lifting his hand to shake Molly’s. Then he looked down to Rebel and smiled. “She’s a sweetheart.”