“Welcome to the club,” she said. “Remember last year when you got hurt on the job and were in the hospital for two days before we knew you were going to be okay? I was sitting right where you were, so I get it. I know. And for the record, what happened tonight doesn’t come anywhere close to all the times I’ve been in your shoes.”
Joe grimaced, looking pained. “Look . . . I know, okay? And I’m sorry.”
She stared at him, waiting for the rest of that sentence. When Joe held his silence, she shook her head. “Wow. A sorry without a but on the end of it. Did it hurt?”
“Okay,” he said. “I deserve that. I’ve . . . been hard on you.”
“Not hard,” she said. “Impossible.”
“I’m working on that.” He paused when she gave him a disbelieving look. “I am,” he said. “I swear. But that’s going to lead to an argument I don’t want to have with you until you’re up to it. Let’s try a different conversation. Lucas.”
Well, hell. “As it turns out,” she said, lifting a shoulder. “I’m not really in a talking mood.”
“Too bad. I don’t know exactly what’s going on with the two of you, but—”
“—What’s going on is that he took a bullet meant for me,” she said. “And he was hit in the head with a steel pipe—also for me—and I’m not leaving here until I see for myself that he’s okay.” She slid off the bed, holding onto the railing for support while she got her sea legs.
Joe was there in an instant, having risen out of his chair and putting his hands on her arms. He had brought her cane, which she absolutely did not intend to use.
“I want to know what’s going on,” Joe said.
“I just told you.”
“I don’t mean on the case—the one you weren’t supposed to take, by the way. I mean between you and my partner and best friend.”
The question gave her a flashback to how she’d felt the night before, sleeping in his arms. Contented. Happy.
Fulfilled.
And though he hadn’t said as much, she’d seen the look in his eyes that morning. She’d felt the way he touched her. How he said her name.
Things had changed.
She wasn’t exactly sure when or how, but she knew they had. He’d fallen for her.
And unbelievably, and against all odds, she’d fallen for him too.
“Molly.”
Shaking her head, she yanked the curtain from around her bed and eyed the large ER, decorated with garland and some twinkling lights. She took in all the other curtained beds. Fine. Eeny, meeny, miny, mo it was. “Lucas!” she called out, making a scene and not caring.
“Damn, Molly.” Joe grimaced and shoved her cane at her. “At least use this while you’re yelling your fool head off.”
She snatched the hated cane and leaned on it. “Lucas!”
Archer’s head appeared from behind one of the curtains across the room and he stared at her.
It used to be that Archer intimidated her. He was an intimidating sort of guy, dark eyes, dark thoughts, and until Elle had bashed through his brick walls, he’d also led a dark life. Joe had gotten Molly the job, but she’d still had to prove herself to Archer. She’d started out as receptionist, only answering phones and keeping the schedule. She’d slowly proven her worth to the company and now he trusted her to run his office and his world completely. It was a compliment of the highest order, and she loved and appreciated both the job and the chance.
But as he knew, she’d wanted more for a while now. She felt as if she’d really proven herself on this Santa case—and he hadn’t even known. It was frustrating. And being frustrated, and maybe also a little bit high on pain meds, turned off her inner filter.
“I want to see him,” she said.
Archer stepped outside the curtain and held his ground as she stormed toward him.
“Get out of my way,” she said.
“Molly—”
She moved around him and whipped open the curtain.
The bed was gone. Her heart stopped. Everything stopped, including her ability to talk. Blood rushed through her ears and she felt her vision start to go.
Archer swore beneath his breath and scooped her up. He set her on the chair in the cubicle and whipped the curtain closed for privacy. “He had surgery to remove the bullet. Now he’s having a CT. He’ll be back any minute. Alive, I promise. You should be in your bed.”
“I’ve been released.”
“Where’s your keeper?” Archer asked.
Joe slid into the cubicle. “Here,” he said grimly. “She’s not real good at staying put.”
“No shit,” Archer said and both men just stared at her, good and well pissed off because they’d been left out of the loop—which was their own damn fault.
Molly tossed up her hands. Well, her one good hand. “Hey,” she said. “I just worked a case from start to finish and got my man. Or in this case, Mr. and Mrs. Claus and his felon brother. You should both be patting me on the back and asking if I want to go out for a beer after work, like you do with each other after a job well done.”
They both looked at her in shocked disbelief. “Okay,” she admitted. “Since you didn’t know I was even on a job, I guess that might be taking it a little too far. How about just something along the lines of ‘hey, sounds like you handled yourself, Molly, welcome to the team.’”
Archer let out a breath, a rare show of frustration from the guy who rarely if ever broadcasted his thoughts. “First of all,” he said, “you’re right. You didn’t tell us you were on a job. You didn’t tell us when it started to detonate. Neither did Lucas. Let’s start there.”
Huh. This wasn’t exactly going in the direction she’d hoped. “I tried to bring you in on it,” she started but Archer interrupted her.
“And I told you that you weren’t ready.”
“Well,” she said, “I disagreed.”
“That’s the thing, Molly,” he said in that hardass boss tone. “You don’t get to disagree with me on the job. I’m the boss. I’m your boss.”
And he’d given her a job when she’d needed it. He’d done so with her having little to no experience in his world, and he’d never been anything but generous, with both money and his time. She tried to remember that. “I understand all that. And you’ve been amazing. But you’re only in charge of me when I’m on the clock.” She paused and then said gently but firmly, “What I choose to do off the clock is none of your business.”
Archer slid Joe a look.
Joe tossed up his hands. “Man, if you think I can talk any sense into her, you’re sorely mistaken. Why do you think I came up with the idea of putting Lucas on her six?”
“Wait,” Molly said slowly. “What?”
Joe’s expression went from mildly pissed off to oh shit.
Molly pointed at him. “Repeat that.”
“Hell,” Joe said and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“You asked Lucas to watch over me?” she asked. “When?”
Joe blew out a heavy breath. “Does it matter?”
“Oh my God, Joe,” she said, horrified. “From the beginning? Are you serious?”
“I was trying to protect you.”