never dream of being that guy in the bar, but not so close that he could pull the big brother card and keep her safe from those sleazebags.
So, he’d become an expert at resisting temptation, knowing that if he gave in once, he’d give in forever – on everything. He’d held himself in check, over and over – until last New Year’s Eve.
Jake’s lips tightened as he swerved the car into the station car park, flakes still falling fast and thick on his windscreen. Twelve months of trying to forget the moment he’d let down his guard and given in to that temptation, and here he was, forced by his own rules of family and obligation to spend time alone in an enclosed space with the woman.
The woman whose mouth he could still taste under his, if he didn’t concentrate on forgetting. Whose curves he could still feel pressed up against him. Whose soft, sweet skin still kept him awake at night.
It was, Jake had found, much harder to forget those things when he was alone in the dark.
It was dark now, night having swooped down with the snow at four thirty. The glitter of snowflakes in the streetlights gave Liverpool’s station a magical glow it couldn’t claim to possess most of the year. He parked his car where he was pretty sure there were some double yellow lines hidden by the snow, and was about to call Molly’s mobile – a number he’d had programmed in his phone since the day she got it, but had never actually used – when he saw a figure hopping down the steps outside the station. Despite the knitted hat pulled down over her wavy auburn hair, and the thick grey coat hiding her body, he knew her instantly.
She was almost at the car before he realised he should get out and help her. God, he was failing at more than just resisting temptation today.
“Hey,” he said, stepping out of the car. Cold, wet misery seeped into his socks over the top of his probably now ruined leather shoes. He held back a wince. “Need a hand with that?”
Molly flashed him a smile that shone brighter than the snow under the streetlights. “I’ve got it.”
She popped open the boot and heaved her oversized suitcase inside without much effort, while Jake hung back with wet feet and a general feeling of uselessness. He had to get a handle on whatever it was that made him so… un-Jake-like in her presence. Yeah, so he’d kissed her. But she was still just Molly. Just Tim’s kid sister. The girl who’d hung around and bugged them when they were teenagers.
The woman he’d pressed up against the wall of her childhood bedroom, his mouth firm and wanting against hers…
No. He really, really couldn’t be thinking about that right now.
Slipping around to the other side of the car, he opened the passenger door for her, unable to keep his gaze from fixing on the line of her neck under her hair, and the single snowflake that had landed on her skin and was melting, trailing down her throat, under the collar of her coat…
Swallowing, Jake forced a smile as Molly slid into her seat, slamming the door behind her rather harder than he’d intended.
Back in the driver’s seat, he checked his mirrors obsessively, and prepared to pull out, very aware of all the extra hazards the weather presented.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” Molly said, and he risked a glance up at her. Her lip was caught between her teeth, plump and pink, and it made him want to kiss it, so damn much. “You really didn’t have to. Although I don’t suppose Tim gave you much of a choice.”
“You know your brother,” Jake replied, before he realised that sounded like he hadn’t want to come and fetch her. Which, actually, he hadn’t. But he didn’t want her to know that. “And it’s fine. I was nearby, anyway.” Sort of. Well, not really.
“No you weren’t.” Molly smiled, and Jake stopped paying full attention to the road for a second, before wrenching his gaze back through the windscreen. A second was all it took to cause an accident – hadn’t he learnt that lesson from his parent’s death? He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by a pretty smile, or anything else, while driving. Okay, fine, a stunning, heart stopping smile.
“How do you know that?” he asked, not looking at her.
“I can tell.” She shuffled around in her seat a bit, obviously getting comfortable, her huge leather bag settled on her knee. Between that and her case, she must have been loaded down, getting to the station alone.
Suddenly, Jake felt a spike of guilt in his chest. Why hadn’t he offered to come and pick Molly up anyway? Just because he was undergoing a particularly strong surge of unbrotherly-like feelings, didn’t mean she should have to suffer. It just meant he needed to control them better.
“How can you tell?” he asked, because that didn’t make any sense at all.
Molly shrugged. “I’ve known you too long, Jake. I can tell when you’re lying.”
Jake’s shoulders froze, his hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly. If that was true, he was definitely in trouble.
Suddenly, he really, really wanted to get to the pub with Tim. And take a long, cold walk home afterwards.
-
Okay, this was weird. Molly’s gaze fixed on Jake’s white knuckles, clenching the steering wheel for dear life. Did he always drive like this? She didn’t remember him doing so, but then, his parents had died in a car crash. Maybe that made him nervous. Or it could just be the snow – it had to be pretty treacherous to drive in. Not that she’d ever tried.
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
