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“You always say that, but you never do!” Molly shouts from the kitchen.
I can’t help it. A chuckle escapes and I cover it with a cough.
Remy grins at me. “Laugh it up. Ladies prefer a well-groomed man.”
“Cool, you see any around here?” I make a big show of sitting all the way back in my chair and looking around.
Molly returns to the dining room, her teeth tucked into the corner of her bottom lip as she struggles to swirl some long, skinny, spatula-looking thing into her serum bottle.
God damn, she’s cute. Even all red-faced, mad, and flustered, she’s adorable.
Carefully, she drags the spatula out and smears the thick, clear liquid in her palm, then rubs it between her hands and smooths it into her hair, all while glaring at her brother.
“See? You’re fine.” Remy gestures to the bottle now tucked in the crook of her arm. “You’ll probably scrape a few more uses out of it.”
“Whatever. As long as it’s you using it and not one of those braindead dingbats you’re always bringing over here,” she mutters as she twists the cap onto the bottle.
I choke on another laugh and cough again.
“You need a cough drop or something, bro?” Remy asks. “You getting a cold? Or just enjoy being a wiseass?”
“The last one.” I grin at him, then turn toward Molly. “Is that why he always smells so girly?”
She sniffs the bottle. “It’s not girly. It’s nice.” She walks over and leans against the back of my chair, draping her hair over my shoulder. “See?”
My heart stops. My brain stops processing any information other than her warmth being so close. Under the table, I curl my hands into fists to stop myself from grabbing Molly and pulling her into my lap.
“Get your hair out of our food,” Remy scolds, half-standing and swatting at her with a roll of paper towels.
Molly sticks her tongue out at her brother and skips away.
Laughing and rolling his eyes Remy collects his plate, utensils, and glass. “We gotta get going if we’re making it to Grinder’s place on time.”
I glance in the direction Molly just went. “Is she coming with us?”
“Fuck no.” He scowls.
“Bro, it’s his son’s baptism, not an MC party. It’s an all-family event. Dex told us the other day Molly could come. His girlfriend’s sister’s gonna be there. She’s younger than Molly.”
Remy’s lips quirk, no doubt at the mention of Libby. Her big sister, Emily, had almost shredded Remy into confetti when she’d thought he was flirting with Libby. “Nah. It’s too long of a ride for her.”
“Did she say that or are you just assuming?” Last I knew, Molly was eager to go on a longer trip with us. And I sure as fuck want to figure out a way to have her ride on the back of my bike.
“Does it matter? I don’t want her at an MC party.”
“But it’s not an MC party.” Is he deliberately being stupid? “Shelby Morgan’s gonna be there, for fuck’s sake. Molly loves her music. Murphy’s bringing his wife and kids. Molly likes hanging out with Heidi.”
A brief scowl flashes across his face. “Maybe next time.”
“If we’re thinking of forming a support club for the Lost Kings, it would make sense to have Molly hang around with their women more often, you know.”
“Yeah, I don’t want them interrogating my baby sister.”
I roll my eyes. “No one’s gonna interrogate her.” Finally, his reluctance clicks in my brain. “You want to go party at their clubhouse after the family party—is that why you don’t want her with us?”
One corner of his mouth slides into a sly smile. “Fuck yeah, I do. Don’t you?”
“Not particularly.” I clear my throat. “I’m planning to come home tonight.”
