“Why?” JJ took the folder, stared at the outside.
“Because it’s about Molly. My stupid brother is nosy.”
JJ was looking at him again, and Luca could only shrug. It was true. He did stick his nose where it didn’t belong, but he made no excuses for it. A higher power had given him the skills to do it. He damn sure wasn’t going to pass it by. And no, he didn’t feel guilty, although the way she was looking at him told him he probably should.
She waved the folder, still not looking inside. “Why do you have this?”
Luca exhaled heavily and went for the truth. “Because I got tired of Baz’s phone buzzin’ all the goddamn time. It’s not normal. And since she’s the one blowin’ the damn thing up, I decided to have a look-see.”
JJ was watching him, and he could tell she wanted to know more.
“It’s all there, JJ. The cold, hard truth about Molly Ryan.”
“Are you sayin’ it’s worth readin’?” she asked, glancing down at it again.
“Personally, I’d wanna know if I were you.”
Her gaze snapped back to his. “Why?”
“You love him, don’t you?”
Her eyebrows lowered, but she didn’t answer.
“If I loved someone and they were mixed up with a woman like that…” Luca shrugged and leaned back. “I’d damn sure want to know.”
Evidently his argument was convincing enough because JJ turned away … and opened the folder.
*
As Baz sat in Molly’s hospital roomwaiting for the doctor to come in for an examination, he recalled the movies that the warped and twisted side of himself enjoyed. The ones with the stalker—friend, roommate, lover—who had a completely dark side that no one expected. Those movies never turned out well for at least one person, and he suspected this was a similar situation.
Molly was currently propped up in the bed, her hand on her belly, a beaming smile on her face.
Oh, and he couldn’t forget the little tiara she’d produced from that overnight bag, as well as the silky blanket that she had laid out over the hospital blanket that was covering her legs. He honestly did not want to know what else she could pull out of that thing, but he had to assume he would need to make a run for the store before the baby came home. It appeared as though Molly’s main focus was herself.
What was creepier than that was the fact that she was watching him so intently, as though if she kept her eye on him he would never leave.
“This is going to be lovely,” she said, smoothing out the thin silk. “I wish they would let me wear my own gown though. This one is scratchy.”
Yeah, but it was replaceable for, you know, when she gave birth.
“Could you get me some ice chips, honey?” she said sweetly.
Honey?
Oh, Jesus.
Rather than comment, Baz swallowed the frustration and pushed to his feet. Molly’s contractions were evidently real, but they were spaced about thirty minutes apart. The doctor they’d seen upon arrival said it would still be a while, but because Molly’s blood pressure was elevated, they wanted to keep an eye on her, so they admitted her. Baz figured her high blood pressure was from the panic attack she’d had while she was planning the wedding they would never have and realizing it wouldn’t come to fruition.
“Oh, and maybe some water,” Molly tacked on. “And a straw. Pretty please.”
“Anything else?” he asked on his way to the door.
“I think that’s all I need for now.”
Baz stepped out into the hallway and glanced left then right to locate the nurses’ station. He requested ice chips for Molly then pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to JJ, letting her know the status. At the moment, they were in limbo, but he figured sometime in the next seventy-two hours, there’d be a baby. Regardless, he didn’t see himself making the trek to Dallas with the team this go-round. While he wasn’t worried about that, he was worried about leaving JJ alone. Without a roommate at the hotel, this would be the first time since her attack that she would have to sleep by herself, and that bugged him. He didn’t want JJ to be alone.
It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Molly and the baby. He did. Well, the baby, anyway. Molly made it really damn hard for him to care about her because her expectations were so high. She had somehow twisted and manipulated their one night into something that it wasn’t. If you asked her, she would likely say they’d made love for hours on rose petals after drinking champagne and eating caviar. The way Baz remembered it … well, the truth was, he didn’t remember it. Nothing past going into Moonshiners that night. Everything else was a blur.
