Page 47 of In Her Sights
Chapter 15
“I still like plan number five the best,” John complained as he parked in the grocery-store lot a block from Mother Tick’s house.
“Four and a half,” Molly corrected, not for the first time. “It has huge gaping holes in it. So much could go wrong.”
“I think that’s why I like it—there’s so much room for improvisation.”
Giving him a look, she opened her door. “Improvisation is fine when a plan goes sideways, but it’s better to at least start out with a solid plan…like plan number two.”
“You just want to be pretend-married to me.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” she said dryly as she stretched and tried to surreptitiously check out the house. “I made that very wish when I blew out the candles on my cake at my last birthday. I wish more than anything that I could pretend to be married to Carmondy.” As he walked over to join her, she gave him a poke in the side. It must’ve been a ticklish spot, because he jumped and swatted her finger away. “Doofus. Why would anyone wish that?”
His expression showed exaggerated offense. “I, for one, would love to be fake-married to you.”
Even though she knew he was teasing, and she’d just been playing along, his words took her off guard. She went quiet for a beat, too flustered to respond.
“Pax?”
“Sorry.” She shook off the strange moment, silently commanding her feelings to knock it off and quit being weird. Grabbing on to the first excuse she could think of, she stared at Tick’s mother’s house. “Thought I saw something move. So…plan two, then?”
“Fine.” Although he grumbled, it was good-natured, and she knew his complaints were more to get her wound up than because he had any serious objections. “Just to make your birthday wish come true.”
Inwardly, she felt that strange little swoop of her stomach, similar to how it felt on an airplane during turbulence, but she managed to keep her composure. “I’ll be forever grateful,” she said absently, checking out the area around the house as her mind concentrated on what she needed to do. Her focus was blown to bits when his huge hand grabbed hers.
“What?” she said, staring down at their linked fingers. His mitt was so big that hers had almost completely disappeared. “What?” If she hadn’t been so thrown off, she would’ve been embarrassed by her confused response.
“Ready, Wife?” he asked. The way he gently squeezed her hand and smiled crookedly at her made it hard to remember that he was just playacting.
She was forced to clear her throat before she could get any words out. “Never call me that again, or I’ll have to hurt you. And yes, I’m ready.”
By his snort, he wasn’t at all bothered by her threat. They strolled toward the house, and Molly tried to keep her expression guileless even as she scanned the area for Sonny—or any possible threats. Her heart rate picked up again, although this time it was at the thought of Tick’s mom’s house exploding in a ball of flame.
“Okay?” John asked as if he was able to hear her heart accelerate…or maybe her fingers were digging into his hand so tightly it had become painful.
She made an effort to loosen her grip. “Yeah. Just hoping we don’t get blown up.” Her mind flashed to the events of the previous night. “Again.”
With a wince, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, even as he said something that wasn’t reassuring at all. “Just remember to run if you think a bomb might go off.”
“If I think a bomb might go off?” Realizing that she’d gotten a bit loud, she lowered her voice to a hiss. “How am I supposed to tell if a bomb’s about to explode? A ticking clock like in a cartoon?”
He actually grinned at that. “Ah, the old ticking clock. It makes it so easy to identify a bomb. It even tells you how much time you have to run.”
There were a lot of things she would’ve liked to say in response to that, but they’d reached the front yard, so she stayed quiet and forced a smile instead. As they climbed the worn steps to the front door, she let out a deep breath and focused on what they were doing. She could argue nonsense with John later. Right now, they had a bail jumper to catch.
He pounded on the door, and she shot him a warning look, even as she sighed in exasperation.
“What?” he asked softly.
“Why not just shout police while you’re at it?” she muttered, keeping her gaze on the closed front door.
“Because that would be dumb, Pax.”
“You know what’s dumb, Carmondy?” Her voice was rising again. “Your cop knock.”
“Cop knock?” He examined his meaty fist. “I do not have a cop knock.”
“Yes, you do. It’s more cop-knocky than a regular cop’s knock. It’s like you slammed an entire ham against the door multiple times.”
