Page 62 of In Her Sights
John patted Molly’s shoulder. “She’s smart. She won’t get herself into anything she can’t get out of safely. Besides, if she did do the video, at least we’d know what kind of security is in place.”
Molly was too worried to laugh, although she did relax slightly at his reassuring words. He was right. Cara was smart, and they could definitely use any information about the potential meeting place before walking into it blindly that night. She just wished they hadn’t been stuck giving statements rather than staking out the Langston warehouse themselves.
“So what’s the plan? Are we still each taking a location?” Her frown deepened. There were too many variables—they didn’t know where, when, or the majority of who. So much could go wrong, but this could very likely be their last chance. The person on the phone had mentioned that Sonny was getting new identification. If he disappeared, then so did Molly’s opportunity to bring him in.
She plopped down onto John’s couch. All of her frustration was shoved to the back burner as she fell instantly in love. Pulling up her socked feet, she wriggled around to get even more comfortable. “Oh, John…”
He’d been headed to the kitchen, but at those two words he whipped around.
Molly didn’t even care that she’d basically purred at him—and used his first name at that. She was in too much bliss to worry about anything. “Your couch is incredible. Can I have it?”
“Can I have a time-share on your room?”
“Are you trading your couch for occasional access to my bedroom?” Despite her preoccupation with wallowing in her newfound squishy paradise, she was still amused.
“You’re right. Put it that way, and you’re getting a much better deal.” He prowled back over, sinking down next to her. “My couch for full bedroom privileges.”
Somehow, the conversation had taken an unexpected right-hand turn, but Molly didn’t think she had the willpower to bring things to a halt. Instead, she tilted her head to study him, rubbing her cheek along the silky-soft fabric of his magic sofa as she did so. “Full bedroom privileges? What does that entail?”
He leaned closer, stretching his arm across the back of the couch until she felt surrounded—cushions of heaven on one side and John Carmondy on the other. Her heart rate, which had already accelerated, now beat so fast it felt like a hummingbird was hovering inside her rib cage. “Whatever you’d like it to…entail.”
Suddenly, she wanted it to entail all sorts of things, but a small part of her brain was still squawking indignantly that this was John Carmondy she was ever so slowly leaning toward, and he was her nemesis—or at least he used to be. Now, he felt an awful lot like a partner…a very hot partner with a great body and adorable dimples and a habit of watching her back and trying to keep her safe.
She realized that she’d forgotten to breathe, too caught up in his closeness to do anything but feel. As she sucked in a breath, her lips fell open just a little, and John’s gaze instantly locked onto her mouth.
His pupils were dilated wide with desire, turning his eyes almost black. She couldn’t look away. It felt like they were locked in position, turned toward each other on the couch, so close but not yet touching. This was the moment they had to decide: leap over the cliff or back away.
John exhaled, and the stream of warm air brushed her lips, making her viscerally aware of how close they were, that the slightest shift of weight by either of them would bring them together. She wanted that, to touch him, to be touched by him, even more than she’d wanted his couch just seconds ago.
She just wasn’t brave enough to take that final step, and she wanted to smack herself for her cowardice. Chasing criminals over fences and tackling them to the ground? Sure, no problem. Kiss a guy who clearly—unless she was reading all the signals very wrong—wanted her? Run away! Girl, you’re messed up, her brain scolded, and she could only agree.
“John?” she managed to say, needing to do something to break the tension that had wrapped around them like a whole roll of barbed wire.
“Yeah?” The problem was that it hadn’t worked—the tension was still there, the wire pulling even tauter, dragging them closer together through sheer desire and, she had to admit, a huge, heaping load of affection that had sprung up completely unexpectedly over the past harrowing days.
Now she’d started a conversation, though, so she had to finish it. “What are we doing?”
“What do you want to do?”
Very dirty things to you. “So it’s all on me?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
His lips twitched up just the slightest bit, although it didn’t dim the heat in his gaze. “You know what I want—what I’ve wanted since we met. The question is if you want the same thing.”
“But I don’t know!” The words burst from her in a panic. “I know you want me to work for you, but I told you that one of us would end up killing the other one if we tried that.”
The crease of his dimples dented his cheeks. “I don’t think we’d kill each other.” His gaze darted down to her mouth again before meeting her eyes. The dark, smoldering depths sucked her in, and she instantly lost track of the conversation. “It’d be…explosive, but not how you’re thinking. And I would love for you to come work for me, but that wasn’t why I kept seeking you out.”
“It wasn’t?” Her blood felt like it was on fire as it coursed through her, heating her skin and turning her insides molten.
“No.” As if he couldn’t help himself, his fingers brushed across her cheek, tracing her jaw to the point of her chin before dropping away. She immediately missed that featherlight touch. “I like being around you. You wake me up, make me laugh, make me swear.” She huffed a laugh at that last one, and he closed his eyes for a moment as if he was in pain. When he opened them again, they were hotter than ever. “You make me hungry.”
The words burned across her skin, making her gasp. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone. It had been building beneath their banter and arguments and one-upmanship until just having him in front of her without being able to touch was intensely painful.
“John?”
“Yeah, Molly?”
“Would it be okay if I kissed you now?”
