Cord sniggered, and Molly fought the urge to tase them both. “Nope. It’s my house because it is. The cops will agree with me.” She’d expected that the mention of the police would make Sanders and Cord fall into line, but they just exchanged a smirk. She had the random thought that John was the only person who could make that expression look good.

“Not what I heard,” Sanders said mockingly. “I heard they let the last guy who broke in walk.”

Stuart. The name was a growl in her head. Molly wished the blabby weasel was here, so that she could tase him, too. She mentally added punching Stuart in his smug, burglarizing face onto her mental bucket list.

“You should be less concerned with what the cops did then,” John said, his bass voice rumbling a warning, “and more concerned about what we’re going to do now.”

The two intruders stopped smirking as fear flashed in their eyes.

Molly was perfectly happy to play bad cop and badder cop with John. “That’s better. Now tell us what you’re doing here.”

“Told you,” Sanders muttered, his gaze darting away from her. “Jane asked us to pick up something.”

“Yeah.” Cord jumped in, nodding in such an exaggerated way that he looked like a bobblehead doll. “Jane asked us to come here and get…something.”

Meeting John’s exasperated gaze, Molly made a Can you believe these guys? face. Although his snort was amused, she noticed that John didn’t loosen his grip on Cord. Her gaze fell to the smaller man’s wrists, and she frowned, wondering where John had gotten the handcuffs. She glanced at his bare torso and down to the pants he must’ve yanked on in a hurry. Like hers, they had bunches of pockets. Shifting her gaze to meet his eyes, not allowing herself to linger on an expanse of brown, bare, obnoxiously beautiful chest on the way, she raised her eyebrows.

“You just happened to have cuffs on you?”

The corners of his mouth tucked in as he held back a smile, his dimple revealing his true amusement. “Never leave home without them.”

“Always prepared, Boy Scout?”

“Always.”

“If you two are going to flirt, can we leave?” Sanders asked, bringing Molly’s attention back to him. He’d propped himself up on his elbows, and she knew she either had to cuff him or let him go soon. Letting him sit unrestrained on the floor was just asking for trouble.

“Once you tell us why you’re really here,” she said crisply, “you’ll be able to leave. So spill.”

Sanders clamped his lips together, pretending to zip them in a dramatic gesture. She allowed her smirk to emerge, looking away from Sanders in a dismissive gesture that meant she didn’t need him, not when Cord was just dying to give away the entire game.

Letting her smile widen, she focused on the cuffed man. “So, Eddie… Jane must trust you a lot to give you a key to the house.”