Or maybe, just maybe, it was her doing that.
Running her gaze up his arms, she took in the jumper he was wearing – a red one she thought her mum had bought him last year – and the hard lines of his shoulders under it. Almost as if he were steeling himself for something.
Probably, a conversation with her about what happened last New Year’s Eve.
In fact, he was probably rehearsing it in his head. Getting his ‘I love you like a sister, I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression of something more’ lines straight, all ready for her.
Well. That just didn’t suit Molly’s purposes at all.
“Are you all ready for Christmas?” she asked, a determinedly cheery note in her voice.
“Uh, yes. I think so.” His head turned, just slightly, as he glanced at her, and Molly saw the surprise in his expression. “You?”
“Mostly.” She sighed. “I have a lot of wrapping to do tomorrow, though. Just hoping that Mum’s bought extra paper, as usual.”
“I’m sure she will have,” Jake said, although from the puzzlement in his voice Molly suspected that he’d had all his presents’ gift wrapped when he ordered them online. That was his usual M.O.
She hunkered down in her seat a bit more. He was a successful architect now, in high demand across the country. He could probably afford that convenience, more than he could spare the time to actually go shopping himself. He certainly wouldn’t have spent hours trawling the tiny independent stores of north London looking for the perfect, purse friendly, present for every family member.
A reminder of just how different they were. It was easy to forget, sometimes. To think that Jake was just another member of the family, brought up by a taxi driver and a teacher, just like Tim. But he wasn’t. He came from a family of high earning professionals, and he’d continued the trend. He’d sold his parents’ home and built himself a new one, pocketing the cash that came from selling a house in an up-and-coming suburb and heading out to the fancier county of Cheshire, a forty minute drive away.
Molly stared out the window at the snowflakes again, feeling their chill this time more than she had on the train. Shouldn’t this feel more like home, now she was so close? And it wasn’t like the expensive heating system of Jake’s sleek car couldn’t overcome the cold. But suddenly she felt like she wasn’t quite a fit in either place – London or Liverpool. And certainly not here, in a too expensive car with a man who was embarrassed by how much he’d wanted her, once.
The Prosecco had worn off hours ago, and suddenly Jenna’s plan seemed ridiculous.
Of course she wasn’t going to be able to seduce Jake Sommers before midnight on New Year’s Eve. And she’d humiliate herself beyond the telling of it if she even tried.
The only problem was that this didn’t make her want to try any less.
They drove in silence for longer than was really comfortable, until the house and streets around them became familiar, and Molly knew they were nearly home. As they approached The George and Dragon, she realised that her window of opportunity to talk to Jake alone, without her entire family trying to eavesdrop, was closing rapidly.
“Pull over here,” she blurted out, without really processing the thought first.
Jake raised an eyebrow, but turned carefully into the pub car park, which wasn’t quite what Molly had intended but would do in a pinch.
“You want to go see Tim first?” Jake asked, cutting the engine.
“No. Well, yes, maybe, actually.” No one would be home, she realised, unless mum had headed back early because of the snow. They could totally have had this conversation at the house, in private, without snow clogging up their windows and making things even more claustrophobic than ever.
“O-kay.” Jake frowned, a puzzled line forming between his brows. “I’ll be honest, Moll, I’m not following.”
Moll. He’d called her that as a child, as a girl, as the annoying tagalong little sister of his best friend. When he’d kissed her, he’d called her Molly, drawing the word out like her pleasure.
Clearly, they were back to annoying sister territory.
“Look, I don’t mind if we go see Tim or not. I just wanted… before we see everyone else and it’s all family all the time and everyone is listening and stuff. Do we, I don’t know, do we need to talk about last New Year’s Eve?” The words burbled out of her until she wasn’t sure they even formed a full sentence. But the way Jake’s face stiffened up, his frown lines deeper than ever, she knew he understood what she meant.
She held her breath and waited for an answer.
Chapter 4
Of course she wanted to talk. Jake had never met a woman who didn’t. Who couldn’t just move on and repress like a normal person.
“It was a year ago, Moll. Can’t we just chalk it up to too much of Tim’s tequila and forget about it?”
“Sure,” she said, in the sort of voice that made it very clear that she wasn’t sure at all. “If that’s what you want.”
“I’m not saying… all I mean is… it’s not like that has to, you know. Change anything, I guess.” God, he sounded like her. Was babbling catching? He’d never had to worry about it before.
“I didn’t mean, well, change. I just… you’ve been avoiding me this year.”
Jake winced. Kind of hard to deny that one. It was a miracle no one else had called him on it, really. “Not avoiding, not really,” he lied. “I just didn’t want things to be weird for you.”
“It was weird not having you at my goodbye party.” Molly sounded so small and sad; he felt the guilt that had needled him that whole night pricking him again.
“I’m sorry. I should have been there.” A true brother would have been. One who wasn’t harbouring inappropriate thoughts about his almost-sister.
“Yes, you should.” She flashed him a quick, sharp smile. “So, if we’re making things not weird… how do you suggest we go about that?”
“Well, not kissing again should help.” Why had he said that? Oh God, really, had he lost control of his mouth altogether? Because as he said the words, his gaze dipped automatically to her lips. Her tongue darted out to moisten them, and he could almost taste her by just watching and remembering. And now kissing her was the only thing in the world he could think about doing.
“That should be easy enough I guess.” Was her voice really so breathy, or was his imagination messing with him?
“Yeah. I mean we managed it for twenty-plus years before, right?”
“Exactly.” Was she staring at his mouth, too? Why couldn’t they have had this conversation in the house, preferably with her parents in the next room as a constant, painful reminder why he shouldn’t be doing this? Or even thinking about it.
“So, we’ll just go back to being… friends.”
“Yeah. Friends.” With the memory of how close he’d come to stripping off every inch of her clothing still fresh – not to mention how much he still wanted to do so – he really wasn’t going anywhere near ‘I’m like your brother.’
“Who just happened to, well—”
“Yeah. That.” Jake cut her off. If he heard her say the words there was no way he’d be able to keep up with the resisting.
“Okay then,” Molly said, and Jake nodded.
Which meant the conversation should be over. They’d decided everything they needed to, agreed to put things behind them. So why were they still in the car park? Why were her eyes still so dark in the light of the falling snow? Why were these car seats so damn close?
“Jake…”
She didn’t need to say any more. He could read every iota of longing in her eyes. Could she see it in his? Saying the words was one thing, but sticking by them? A whole different proposition.
He was going to tell her no. Really he was.
Except a banging on the window interrupted him.
“Hey, you two! Excellent timing!” As the snow slipped down the windscreen, Tim’s beaming face appeared; he was clearly plastered and full of Christmas spi
rit. “Saved me a walk home!”
“Guess we’re not going to the pub, then,” Jake muttered, as he opened the car door. Which was a shame, because he could really, really use a drink around now.
-
Molly watched Tim and Jake undertake a snowy man hug, before her brother stumbled into the back of the car, tipping almost entirely sideways as he grinned at her.
“Moll! You made it! At least I’ll have one sister home for Christmas this year.”
“Dory will be here too,” Molly pointed out, only half paying attention. Jake had settled back into the driver’s seat, and she could smell his aftershave. It make her want to lick down the line of his throat, and she really couldn’t be having those thoughts in the presence of her brother, however drunk and oblivious he was.
“Not if her plane gets snowed in and can’t land.” Tim sprawled across the backseat as Jake started up the engine again. “Then it’ll just be the three of us and Mum and Dad.”
“More mince pies for me, then,” Jake said, not even glancing over at Molly. She tried not to feel offended by that.
He’d been about to kiss her, she was sure of it. Or, in honesty, she’d have totally kissed him. One way or another, kissing had been about to happen.
And now it wasn’t.
“She’ll get here,” Molly said, staring out at the snow. “You know Dory. She won’t let a bit of weather get her down.” After all, this was perfect Dory they were talking about. The over achieving big sister who had departed for London the moment she graduated from university and landed the sort of job mum could boast about. Then, not satisfied with that, she’d moved to New York for her dream job and dream fiancé. And then – then! The ultimate insult to less successful younger siblings – she’d lost it all, lied to her family for months, and still somehow managed to return home for Christmas last year with a rich, gorgeous, besotted boyfriend and the promise of an even better job lined up.
It really, really wasn’t fair.
Tim had almost dozed off in the backseat by the time Jake pulled into the driveway of her parents’ house. Her dad’s cab was still missing, but the lights were on in the kitchen and lounge, which meant that mum had to be home. Philippa Mackenzie was obsessive about turning everything off before she left the house – even unplugging small appliances – in case of fire. The Christmas tree lights in the front window wouldn’t be twinkling if she wasn’t there.
“Are you ready?” she murmured to Jake as the car stopped. She wasn’t even really sure what she meant by that – but he seemed to know. His face, so smooth and expressionless on the drive from the pub, suddenly tightened, and the nod he gave her was too sharp, too precise.
Was this hard for him too? Not really knowing where they stood? It seemed to be.
That made Molly feel ever so slightly better about the whole thing.
She got out of the car first, treading carefully on the snow to get to the boot and pull out her case. The last thing she needed was Jake being chivalrous and carrying it for her – the chances were that, the way she felt tonight, it would send her hormones into overdrive and she’d throw herself at him right there and then. Which would mean her brother and probably her mum would witness her humiliation when her advances were knocked back.
Except… for that one, brief moment in the car, before Tim interrupted, Jake had wanted to kiss her, she was almost sure of it. Which meant there was something making him hold back. It couldn’t just be the little sister thing, could it?
Well, whatever it was, she had eight days to find out and convince him it didn’t matter.
“Let me help you with that,” Jake said, suddenly at her side.
Molly gripped her suitcase a little tighter. “I’m fine, really. Haven’t you got your own bag?” She knew he had – she’d seen the expensive looking leather holdall in the boot when she put her case in.
“Yeah, but…” Jake reached out for the handle again, and she realised this wasn’t for her benefit anyway. It was for her family’s. To show that he was a perfect gentleman, as always. Couldn’t have them suspecting he ever had other intentions now, could he?
Molly yanked the case away from him but the movement proved too much for her ancient suitcase. Zip splitting across the side, the overstuffed case bled its contents across the snowy drive – sexy lingerie first.
Behind her, Tim laughed, and Molly’s face grew redder as she tried to stuff her belongings back inside. Way to look desperate, Molly.
“I don’t think you’ll be needing that at home for the holidays, Moll!” She gritted her teeth at her brother’s amusement, very aware of Jake crouched beside her trying to help, his gaze and hands studiously avoiding anything slippery, silk or lacy.
But as she reached for the last few items, Jake glanced up and she couldn’t help but catch his eye. Something burned deep in that gaze, and it wasn’t embarrassment. He’d seen what she’d packed and jumped to the obvious – and correct – conclusion that it was for him.
So much for the element of surprise.
Jake Sommers knew exactly what she wanted from him this Christmas – and most intriguingly of all, he seemed slightly more wanting than resistant.
Suddenly her malfunctioning suitcase seemed more like an opportunity than an embarrassment.
Chapter 5
As Jake tried to tear his gaze away from Molly’s, the front door flew open and suddenly, the warmth of home reached out through the snow and found them, even in the freezing night. In an instant, Molly had forgotten all about him, Jake could tell. Yanking it closed, she dragged her suitcase along, leaving wheel marks in the snow, racing towards her mother and the smell of mince pies baking, and wine mulling on the stove. Jake couldn’t blame her. This was Christmas. Everything else could wait – especially the interloper who didn’t really belong anyway.
“You made it!” Philippa Mackenzie threw her arms around her daughter the moment she came within reach, and Molly dropped her case to the ground to return the hug. Stepping to the side, out of the way, Jake picked it up for her. “And my boy!” Philippa moved onto the slightly staggering Tim.
“Mum. You saw me earlier. I live here.” Tim squirmed away slightly, and Jake felt an ache in his chest.
“I know. But only for nine more days. And besides, it’s Christmas.” The reasoning that would rule for those nine days, Jake knew. The Mackenzies took Christmas very seriously.
“And you!” Philippa pushed Tim aside to get to Jake, and he braced himself for impact. Beside him, Tim leant against the wall for extra support. “It’s been months since we saw you! Far, far too long.” She gave Jake a hug that he knew would be every bit as warm and tight as the ones she’d given her blood children. But still, he couldn’t relax. Couldn’t sink into the hug like Molly and Tim had done.
Couldn’t believe he really belonged in this place, with these people. Especially given what he’d just been imagining doing to their daughter.
Don’t think about Molly’s underwear. Just… don’t. Especially not while hugging her mother.
That way, madness lay.
Finally, Philippa released him, and he exhaled at last. “Now, let’s get you three inside. Your dad left me in charge of the mulled wine when he left for the airport, and I’ve just got a fresh batch of mince pies out of the oven.”
Perfect. Mulled wine, mince pies and Bing Crosby on the stereo. The traditional Mackenzie Christmas. That was what he needed. Not Molly alone in the dark and the snow, and definitely not those slippery, lacy, barely there knickers too close to his fingers. He needed the family environment – anything to keep reminding him that Molly could never be anything more than a sister.
Not unless he wanted to lose the closest thing he’d had to a home since his parents died.
-
Molly stared after Jake as he followed her mum inside.
“Now, you have to try my latest batch of mince pies. Can you believe, I have fifteen different sorts of mincemeat to try this year? You’ll have to keep track and te
ll me which one you like best,” Philippa said, as they disappeared into the hall and through the doorway on the left that led to the lounge.
Jake might be in the house, but he wasn’t home. Not really. He still doesn’t believe he belongs here. Which was pathologically stupid.
He’d stood stiff and uncertain, even as Philippa had thrown her arms around him, welcoming him home. After all these years, shouldn’t he know better? Unless… unless this was her fault. Unless her lingerie and talking about kissing had made him awkward around her family.
She could kind of understand that, she supposed. Even if it was still stupid.
Well. One thing she could do this week, possibly even while persuading him into bed with her, was make it clear that this was his home now, as much as it was hers. That’s how it worked. Like the half starved stray cats mum took in, Jake was theirs now. And nothing he could do would change that.
Not even sleeping with her. Probably.
As long as they didn’t get caught.
Molly shut the door behind her as she followed Tim inside. A plan formed in her mind, even as the mulled wine scented air warmed her. Dumping her case at the bottom of the stairs, she headed directly for the kitchen – or more specifically, the pan on the stove, her brain still whirring.
Jake wanted this, as much as she did; she was almost certain. What if he hadn’t been avoiding her for the past year out of embarrassment for her, or because he didn’t want her trying to hit on him again? What if it was because he wanted it too, but didn’t think he could let himself have it?
In which case, if she just explained everything, explained about her resolution, how it just needed to be a one-time thing – something to get it out of their systems so she could go back to London and sleep with other men… Okay, maybe she wouldn’t put it quite like that. But the basic idea was good.
The Kiss Before Midnight Page 3
