“You’re not?”

“Honestly, I thought part of the reason Deacon’s always been so closed off was because he was closeted.”

A gasp sounded. “No.”

“Yes. Wouldn’t you suspect that your son preferred men if he hadn’t brought a girl home in fifteen years?”

“Julianne. You poor thing. Dealing with that worry in addition to everything else you’ve dealt with over the years.”

Molly rolled her eyes. What a heaping load of crap.

“Does it make me an awful person to say I’d rather he was gay than try to understand what he sees in that woman? Sweet lord.”

“Who is she?”

“Nobody. Beautiful women hang all over these fighters. They hang all over him. I’ve seen the pictures. So she wasn’t at all what I expected.”

And once again, you’re a disappointment. You should be used to it by now.

“Well,” the other woman said in a drawn-out drawl, “I hate to point out the obvious, but you know what she sees in him.”

“Oh, I know, all right. Last night before dinner? Deacon couldn’t keep his hands off her. It was such a vulgar display. So I’m betting her appeal to him is her whorish behavior.” Julianne sighed. “Of course, she probably thinks that by being his whore, he’ll marry her. Then she can get her chubby hands on his money.”

Enough was enough.

Molly walked around the corner, straight to the sink next to Deacon’s mother. She gave the woman credit; her expression didn’t change a whit when she realized Molly had overheard the entire conversation.

Probably between the plastic surgery and the Botox, she can’t move her facial muscles much anyway.

That thought brought on a smug smile. “I do feel the need to correct you, Julianne.” Molly washed her hands and reached for a fresh hand towel. “Whores get paid to fuck. Sluts do it because they like sex. I fall into the latter category rather than the former.” Then Molly sailed out of the bathroom with her head held high.

Screw you, Julianne Westerman. You are a horrible person and an awful mother. Deacon already washed his hands of you, and now so do I.

Molly nearly laughed out loud. She’d literally washed her hands in front of the woman.

Deacon walked out of the private room just as she walked in.

“Hey there.”

“Hey.” He pulled her into an alcove in the hallway. “Where have you been?”

“Needed a change of scenery. Why? Did you miss me?”

“Yeah.” He kissed her. “You sure you’re all right?”

No. I hate that your mother is a sorry excuse for a human being. “Just tired. Someone got me up early.” She forced a smile. “But I’ll swap sex for sleep any day.”

“Me too.” Deacon kissed her with infinite sweetness and then nearly blistered her lips with his sudden burst of passion.

Head spinning, she clung to him as he pressed her against the wall.

“Seriously, Deacon. This is not an alley behind some low-rent nightclub. This is a country club. Stop embarrassing yourself by acting like a horny seventeen-year-old,” Julianne hissed behind them.

He’d broken the kiss the instant she’d interrupted them. But he didn’t acknowledge his mother in any way. He kept those hypnotic blue eyes burning into Molly’s.

Julianne harrumphed, and her footsteps faded into the distance.

Before Molly said anything, her cell phone buzzed in her skirt pocket. She pulled it out and checked the caller ID. Hardwick Designs. “Hello?”

“Molly. Thank the goddess I got you,” Presley said. “I know you’re with Deacon in Texas, and I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t an absolute emergency. But we’re in major crisis mode here.”

“We?”

“Me and Amery.”

If Amery was at the office on a Friday night, something was majorly wrong. “What’s the crisis?” Presley started talking so fast Molly couldn’t understand a word. “Whoa. Slow down. Give me one second.” She gave Deacon an apologetic look. “Sorry. I have to take this.”

“Sounds like it. Come find me when you’re done.”

“Pres? Hang on until I get to a place I can talk.” She cut down the hallway. “Tell me the problem.”

“Something is wrong with my hard drive. So no big deal, right? I figured I’d get the files off the cloud service and we’d look at them on Amery’s computer because I back up every night. But we can’t access anything on the cloud service.”

Presley went into a detailed explanation of everything they’d done to try to access the files. When they’d called the help line, the person told them the account didn’t exist.