Just This Once Read online

“The right school, the right name, the right connections. The right breeding.”

  “Jesus, you make it sound like I was looking for a dog.” He hadn’t said half of that stuff, and the truth was, none of that really mattered to him. But it did matter to his parents. And he’d been going along.

  Blindly.

  Looking at Max and Sarah, who had that blissed-out, eye-staring thing happening, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d already blown his chance at that kind of love. There had been a lot of women over the years. Women he’d shared a night with but refused to give a chance beyond that because they hadn’t fit the vision of what his future was supposed to look like.

  Molly followed his stare and then stopped dancing.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I see you ogling their happily ever after.” She crossed her arms in that mini-Max stance that always put a smile on Sean’s face. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not making any deals with you about five years from now, if both of us are still single. No matter how many fancy hotels you have under your belt.”

  Sean coughed a laugh into his hand, scanning the room out of habit to see who might be watching.

  “Have it your way,” he replied. Then giving her a devilish grin, he pulled her back into the dance. They’d been to enough weddings over the years that she fell into step without a thought. “But you’re missing out. The hotels under my belt are really, really big. Awe inspiring. Life changing even. You should be so lucky to get your hands on one of my hotels.”

  A disgusted grunt. She loved him.

  “I see someone’s trying to compensate again.” Her pitying look hit all his sweet spots.

  As to compensating…not really. But what he was trying to do was make the most of Molly’s good spirits before she found out what he’d done.

  There were times when he kind of got off on her temper. But generally, it wasn’t directed at him. This time, it would be. And with that spine-deep stubborn streak she had going, there was no telling how long it would be before she let him off the hook. But he wouldn’t back down. And even if he wanted to, it was too late. The roommate was gone. Sean had gotten the text from the movers he’d hired to pull the guy’s stuff from the apartment, and Gary was out.

  Molly would thank him. Eventually.

  After she’d tortured him for a while, but whatever. He’d had enough of the asshole taking advantage of her.

  The next song that came on was one of those older classic indies, with a slow beat and a dark, lulling melody Molly couldn’t get enough of. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Sean pulled her close. Her arms linked around his neck, her head falling back as she let him lead, one of those gorgeous contented smiles on her face.

  Maybe she wouldn’t be mad for too long.

  He hoped not.

  Leaning over her so she bowed back while the singer held a note and the bass pumped, he drew a breath close to her neck. Damn, she smelled good.

  “What is that, coconut?” he asked when he pulled her back up.

  “Yeah, I just got it. Smells good, right?” Her hips following his, she cocked her head to the side, offering him another whiff of her neck.

  Going back in for a second hit, he nodded. “It smells like one of those candy cocktails we were drinking down in Mexico.”

  Molly’s eyes squinted, and he had the feeling he was witnessing her attempt at a sexy look. “I’m intoxicating.”

  Yep. Supposed to be sexy. “Watch out, men. She comes across sweet, but she’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t looking.”

  Her answering nod was pure delight. “Hells to the yeah.”

  Damn, she was cute.

  But now he was thinking about the guys who were always sniffing around her, and he mentally added: Even if Molly wasn’t strong enough to knock them out, Sean and her brother sure as hell were.

  * * *

  “Sean, you are such a cock blocker,” Molly hissed, elbowing her favorite partner in crime in the ribs. The guy would not leave her alone. “Seriously, you’re cramping my style. People are going to think we’re together.”

  “Cock blocking?” Sean snorted from behind her at the south bar, not showing any signs of stepping back. Not that she’d thought he would. Sean tended to do what he wanted. And in all honesty, when he wanted to hang out with her, she didn’t mind. Even if it was costing her the hottie bartender who’d been giving her his A game all night. Clingy Sean was her favorite Sean. He didn’t show up too often, but when he did, he was full of hugs and private jokes and the dirty, crass comments she’d loved since way back when he was just another college kid. Back before he’d become the face of the Chicago Wyse and tucked all his awesomely bad behavior behind the facade of his proper public image. “Moll, you know I love it when you talk like you have a pair, but I’m pretty sure there’s nothing for me to block.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Obviously, the blockage would take place from the other side. I don’t need you getting in the way of… Gah, never mind.”

  Sean craned his neck and searched the crowd. “One of these guys? I thought you had a thing about not dating cops. And so far as I can tell, they’re the only single guys here.”

  “Hmm,” she replied noncommittally, because no way was she going to give up the identity of her flirty bartender. Too much fun watching Sean try to weasel it out of her.

  He didn’t like that. Suddenly, everyone was a suspect, earning that overprotective, narrow-eyed look that if she really let her imagination stretch, she could almost pretend was a distant cousin—a very distant cousin—to jealousy. It wasn’t. Sean didn’t think of her like that. He thought of her as the little sister he’d never had. Which made her lucky, and she was totally good with that.

  The wild crush of her youth was almost completely tamed these days—and had been for years. Sure, there was the occasional flare-up, but she knew better than to give it too much room to breathe, and usually, she had those rogue emotions back to heel within a couple of days, if not hours.

  She was that good.

  “Tell me it’s not that guy Jimmy,” Sean grumbled. “The one who’s always getting carried out of the bathroom.”

  This time, her eyes were narrowing. “A little credit, please.” Like she would be waiting on a notorious puker? Not likely. Besides, Sean was right. She didn’t date cops. Ever. In fact, she worked tremendously hard to make sure she didn’t date anyone within her brother’s immediate circle. She liked her privacy and independence, which were easier to maintain with a little distance. Sure, if she was with a guy for any extended period, eventually Max and everyone got to know him…but she generally tried to cast her reel into distant ponds. More convenient when stuff went south, and safer for the guy if he turned out to be not so cool to her.

  “I know, I know,” Sean assured, though he wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t at least slightly concerned. Annoying, but this was too great a day to hold much of a grudge.

  “Come on,” he cajoled. “Give me a hint.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “A baby hint. Like, which side of the room is he on?”

  For a second, Molly pretended she was ready to give him that much, but then she closed her mouth and shook her head. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  She knew it was wrong to get off on that stunned scowl, but come on, Sean’s slack-jawed reaction was priceless. “You were kissing?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said, giving him her most mysterious look. Which might have been a smidge too much, because then Sean was shaking his head and laughing into his fist.

  “As a matter of fact, Molly, I would. And if you don’t tell me, mark my words, I’ll ruin your shot at picking up anyone at this wedding.”

  Brows rising, she grinned. “And just how do you plan to do that?”

  Sean smoothed his already-perfect golden-brown hair, scanning
the ballroom. “You were worried about people thinking we’re together…and that was just from me hanging around. You don’t think I can do better?”

  Molly gulped, because she didn’t doubt he could do way better. But he wouldn’t. Because he was Sean and she was Molly. Period.

  “I’m not going to leave your side, Moll,” he warned, rolling up to the balls of his feet. “Where you go, I go. Feel like taking a load off? I’ll join you for a drink at the table. Want to dance? Hello, partner. Some fresh air sound about right—?”

  “And what if I feel like taking a tee-tee break? You gonna join me in the little girls’ room, Sean?”

  The smirk dropped from his lips, but his eyes held steady. “Pass. But I’ll be happy to wait outside the door.”

  Molly shook her head and laughed. “I guess there are worse things than having you as my shadow for a few hours. But just so you know…I’m still not talking.”

  Sean’s expression was every kind of victorious—and then it wasn’t. He tugged at his collar and leaned closer. Looking almost nervous.

  “Hey, Moll, the reason you don’t care about me cramping your style at the wedding isn’t because you already made plans to meet up with this guy later, is it?”

  “Umm…no plans.”

  This was weird. Sean was a chatty guy, and when it came to deets about the men she’d broken up with, he couldn’t get enough. But as a rule, when it came to her sex life in the now, Sean tended to steer clear. That whole residual big-brother thing, she figured. So having him ask about the night to come was unusual.

  But not as much as the look of relief on his face at hearing she didn’t have plans.

  “What’s up with you?” she demanded.

  His brows rose, and he took a step back. “Me? Nothing.” Then reaching for the tie that wasn’t there—because neatening his look was sort of like snuggling with a security blanket for Sean—he shrugged. “I was just thinking I’d crash at your place after the reception and didn’t want to get in your way.”

  Now things were really getting weird. “My place. Sean, we’re literally seven floors beneath your place. In the hotel you own. What gives?”

  “I’m having some work done, actually. And you know how I hate to stay in hotel rooms.”

  She grinned, because that was one of her favorite quirks about Sean. Wyse was one of the most successful luxury hotel chains in the world…but Sean had a thing about staying in the rooms. Whatever.

  “It’s fine. But this better not be some ploy to muscle my roommate.”

  The corners of Sean’s mouth pulled down into an exaggerated frown as he shook his head. “Promise. I won’t give your roommate a hard time at all.”

  “And you’re staying on the couch. Last time you crashed in my bed, you took up the whole thing, and I couldn’t sleep at all.” He was big. Not quite as tall as her brother or the other guys, but still, six feet was a lot of man. Especially when said man was off-limits and keeping a solid twelve inches of space between them was the only way she could ensure she didn’t wake up with her legs tangled with his or her mouth against his chest.

  “I’ll stay out of your bed.”

  She eyed him a minute longer just to make sure he knew she was serious and then gave up her grin. “Okay, deal.”

  Chapter 2

  Sean had known it would be rough when Molly realized what he’d done. But stepping into her Southport apartment at 1:43 a.m. and seeing that the douche who’d been taking advantage of her for months was finally gone was totally worth Molly shoving futilely at his chest as she put all her weight into trying to push him out the door he’d just walked in.

  “You rotten…low-down…stinking…jerk!”

  Patting the back of her hand, Sean grinned and sidestepped her to walk farther into the apartment. “Settle down, Moll. I get that you’re pissed, and I’m sorry. But it’s been months, and you still hadn’t done anything.”

  “So you did?” she screeched, storming around him with her fists balled tight at her sides. “After I told you I would handle it. After I explained in no uncertain terms that I didn’t need your help.”

  “Yeah. After all that. Because you didn’t handle it. And you really did need my help. That piece of garbage wasn’t going anywhere. You should have seen him when I showed up here this afternoon.”

  Gary had been stretched out on her sofa with a skillet of burned eggs that looked hours old half spilled out on the cushion beside him.

  “Oh my God. Before the wedding,” she said accusingly. “You took Max’s bike and came over here.”

  A nod. That’s what he’d done, and he’d do it again.

  Gary was a total pig with zero respect for Molly or her space, as evidenced by his regular habit of bringing company home with him at 4:00 a.m. after the late-night bars kicked them out and then firing up the Xbox at full volume. Molly worked three jobs and paid half Gary’s rent, so the least he could do was let her sleep, but no. He ate her food and drank her beer, even when she asked him not to.

  As if that wasn’t enough, she kept finding little things broken around the apartment. A mug, a tiny blown-glass motorcycle Sean had found for her in Prague a few years back, a chair, and a dozen other things he didn’t even want to think about. And it wasn’t like Gary even came clean about it. Molly would just stumble across the toaster oven with the door hanging off the front or the fresh dent in the plaster next to the bathroom.

  She’d mention it, but Gary didn’t have the money for rent, so he sure as hell wasn’t kicking in extra to cover the damage. And Molly just let him get away with it again and again because the guy had this down-on-his-luck thing she couldn’t turn her back on.

  But Sean was through letting the weasel whine his way out of the offenses. It had been time for him to go, so Sean made Gary an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  One that involved a handful of bills, a new job, and a week’s stay at a hotel. Not the Wyse. And not of the guy’s choosing. Anything he didn’t want to take with him was at a storage locker. It was all very up and up. Because Molly was convinced the guy was helpless, some tragic victim of circumstance. And she had that thing about people—even shitty people—worrying about whether they’d be able to keep a roof over their head or be out on the street.

  She’d known that worry for too many years herself, thanks to her epically asshole-ish dad. Not her biological father, who she’d never met, but Vic Brandt, the bastard married to her mom when she got pregnant with another man’s kid. Something Vic had never let any of them forget and had held over their heads like a threat for fifteen years.

  Blowing a slow stream of breath through his nose, Sean unclenched his fists and reminded himself that Vic was dead. And Molly had Sean and all the guys looking out for her these days.

  Meeting her eyes, he nodded. “That’s right. I handled it before the wedding, and now he’s out of your hair.”

  “What did you do to him? You know what a hard time he’s been having since he lost his last job. Where’s he going to stay? What’s—”

  “I got him a place to stay and a job.” Sean didn’t mention the money or the threats. “He’s good.” Better than he should be.

  “And I’m out his rent!” Molly exclaimed, her arms flying to her sides.

  Now this was getting frustrating. “He wasn’t even paying you all of it.”

  “But he was paying me most of it, which was better than the none I’ll have until I find someone else.” She leaned in to him. “That was money I needed, Sean.”

  He knew. Because Molly was all about building her security. And part of that involved a plan to buy the building she was living in. She’d been saving for the down payment but more slowly than she should have.

  “Well, good thing I already found you another roommate.” He’d had enough of this. “It’s late, Moll. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

  “What?” Molly
coughed out, indignation written all over her too-proud, too-pretty face. “We’re not done here. I don’t know who you think you’ve lined up for me, but the only person who decides who comes or goes in this apartment is me, mister.”

  “Yeah?” He ducked, catching Molly at the waist with his shoulder. Ignoring her squeal of protest and the two fists banging their way down his back, he hoisted her up and started toward her room. “You want me to get the freeloader back in here?”

  Silence and then a low growl.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Don’t you that’s what I thought me, Sean. You had no right, and no way am I letting you pick who moves in here.”

  “Moved,” he corrected, grabbing the loop of keys she’d thrown on the table when she walked in.

  “What?” she asked, stilling where she hung over his shoulder.

  Walking to her bedroom—and its door with the dead bolt she’d installed four roommates ago and locked from the inside at night—he flipped through the keys. He’d about lost his mind when she’d put in the dead bolt, because what did that say about how safe she felt in her own apartment?

  “Moved in. Past tense. Your roommate’s already here.”

  “What the eff, Sean,” she hissed, starting to struggle anew. “There’s someone here already?” She craned, pushing her palm into his face as she tried to get a look at the other bedroom. “Who is it?”

  And the fact that she’d started whispering now was one of the best things about his girl. Because he knew why she was doing it. She wouldn’t want someone with the shit luck of ending up as her new roomie to know they weren’t wanted. She wouldn’t want to make them uncomfortable.

  Little did she know, but the way she was squirming over his shoulder and gripping his belt about two inches above his ass was making her new roomie very uncomfortable.

  Enough of that. Flipping her forward, Sean dropped Molly onto the bed with a bounce that sent her flowy skirt billowing high around her thighs as he followed her down. She gave one futile shove at his chest and then gave up the fight, her scowl firmly in place.