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.
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