Hot Winter Nights (Heartbreaker Bay #6)(55)

Hell, the woods could have been on fire for all Molly would’ve noticed. She couldn’t see, hear, or think about anything other than the look in Lucas’s eyes as her earlier words seemed to echo between them.

I care about Lucas, very much. Maybe even too much.

Then suddenly he flashed her a wicked just-for-her smile that promised all sorts of things before taking her hand and leading her to the fire pit. Crouching in front of it, he began to build a fire, the muscles in his shoulders and back shifting as he worked. By the time he had flames flickering, Molly had answering flames flickering inside her belly.

And lower.

Lucas opened the big brown bag with the chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows, and everyone pounced on it all like they hadn’t just stuffed their faces with more food than she’d ever seen.

“So how long have you and Lucas been knocking boots?” one of Lucas’s aunts asked.

Molly jumped and her marshmallows fell off her stick and into the fire.

Lucas arched a brow at her and . . . slid two fresh marshmallows on her stick for her. “Aunt Jeanie,” he said. “Just because you turned seventy-five last month doesn’t mean you get to turn off your inner editor.”

“Actually,” she said, “it does. I don’t have a lot of years left, you know. And the only benefit of being this ancient is that I get to say whatever I want.” Then she looked expectantly at Molly.

“Don’t answer her,” Lucas said. “She’ll just send out a letter to everyone in the family. And I do mean a letter because she refuses to use that new iPhone in her purse for anything other than taking pictures of her eight cats.”

“Ten,” Aunt Jeanie said.

Lucas’s mom put her hand over Jeanie’s. “I love you,” she said to the older woman. “But the only person who gets to grill my son on his love life is me. I pushed for twelve long, brutal hours to bring his big, fat head into this world. I earned that right.”

Lucas blew out a breath and dropped said big, fat head, muttering something about why he’d ever thought this was a good idea.

“Remember when we’d come here when we were kids?” Laura asked, clearly trying to help out her brother. “Lucas would tell us scary campfire stories until Sami peed her pants.”

“Hey,” Sami said. “I was way too young for the Lizzy Borden stories!”

“And then he’d try to crawl into one of our sleeping bags in the middle of the night because he’d terrified himself,” Laura said to her mom. “Remember?”

“Oh good,” Lucas muttered. “Childhood stories.”

“How about the time he blew up the shed?” Sami asked. “He’d secretly stored some fireworks there. The fire department came, and the police too. Who peed their pants then, huh?” she asked Lucas.

Lucas ignored her, calmly pulling two perfectly toasted marshmallows from off the fire and fitting them between his two waiting graham crackers.

“How did you get a hold of fireworks?” Molly asked. “You save up your allowance?”

“I didn’t pay my kids any allowance,” Lucas’s mom said proudly.

Lucas met Molly’s gaze, his own ironic. “Our allowance was being allowed to live at home.”

“How about the time you blew up mom’s mailbox with that cherry bomb,” Laura said helpfully. “The police came that time too, remember?”

“Which turned out to be a felony,” his mom said helpfully. “Who knew?”

“I was twelve,” Lucas said, looking pained. “And I wasn’t all hoodlum. I did some good stuff too. How about when I pretended to be Santa Claus for Sami?” He pointed to his cousin. “I climbed onto your roof and made reindeer noises and everything. You bought it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Yep, right up until you fell off and past my window, breaking your arm. For years I thought I’d killed Santa. It was traumatizing.”

Molly gasped in horror, reminded of her own fall and the damage it’d done.

Lucas’s gaze met hers. “It was only one level, I didn’t fall far,” he said quickly, clearly knowing where her mind had gone. He looked at Sami again. “And now surely you can remember something from my past that doesn’t involve trauma, cops, and ERs,” Lucas said.

Everyone gave that some thought and came up empty.

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Thanks for helping me impress Molly.”

Molly laughed. “Don’t worry. I already knew you were a trouble causer.” Truth was, she enjoyed the stories of his wild youth, and the way his family clearly loved and adored him. Looking around at the group, she felt her heart warm. Lucas had no idea how lucky he was with this big, open, warm family who hadn’t faced anything as devastating as what her own had—several times over now.

Lucas’s mom pulled out a large thermos and began pouring everyone eggnog into little cups, which they all lifted in toast to each other. “To Josh,” his mom said softly and lifted her cup.

“To Josh,” everyone repeated just as softly and they all lifted their cups and drank.

Molly looked at Lucas, her heart sinking.

“My brother died four years ago,” Lucas said quietly to her unspoken questions. “Today would’ve been his thirty-fifth birthday.”