The Kiss Before Midnight

by Sophie Pembroke

  It had sounded like a simple request when Philippa had whispered it to him on his way out the door that morning. Pick up five chocolate oranges on his way home. How hard could that be?

  Seven supermarkets and three corner shops later, Jake had his answer. Very.

  Wham! blared out of the speakers of the last disappointing shop, singing about last Christmas, and Jake slammed the door behind him to get away from it. He’d finally escaped the ever present reminder of what he’d done last December, in the form of Molly Mackenzie and her robin pyjamas. He didn’t need George Michael reminding him that he was an awful person.

  Okay. Christmas was just going to have to be Christmas without chocolate oranges. He was almost certain that the Mackenzie family would get over it. One day.

  Either way, he’d stalled long enough. He’d dragged his meeting out so long his clients had felt obliged to offer him five cups of tea, then he’d swung by the office to see if he could clear up some issues with a colleague, only to discover he wasn’t in. It was Christmas Eve, his secretary had told Jake, with faint censure in her eyes. He was home with his family.

  The where you should be went unspoken.

  So, he was on his way back to the closest thing he had, anyway. With Toblerones instead of oranges, because they had the Christmassy packets with snow on the peaks. Best he could do.

  The Mackenzie driveway was already full when he arrived, as was the street immediately outside, so Jake found himself parking around the corner in a hidden alley. As he approached the front door it opened before he even had a chance to knock.

  “Jakey!” A woman with a bright purple streak in her dark hair launched herself into his arms without warning. “It’s been forever!”

  It had been, by Jake’s estimation, almost exactly a year. The only time they ever tended to see each other was Christmas Eve. “Hello, Lara,” he said, disentangling himself from Molly’s best friend. “How’s the mulled wine?”

  “Scrummy.” She flashed him a grin. “As is Molly today, in that little kilt of hers…”

  Jake suppressed a groan. Of course Molly had told Lara. And so of course she was going to use it to make his life hell.

  Fantastic.

  “Who else is here?” he asked, making his way through towards the kitchen.

  “Everybody!” Lara said, voice vibrating with glee and festive cheer.

  “Great.” Just what he needed today.

  Christmas Eve at the Mackenzies’ tended to be quite the event – another reason he usually showed up later, if he could. Last year, Molly and Lara had joined him and Tim in the pub after hours of mulled wine with various relatives and friends.

  It had been a late start, last Christmas Day.

  Still, last Christmas was the last time he’d been able to look at Molly without her knowing how he felt about her. Without seeing the glint in her eye that told him he could have what he wanted – or at least, what she thought he wanted.

  She was wrong. But there was no way he was explaining why to her.

  Molly had her new life now, the one she’d been talking about for years – and it was down in London. The last thing he wanted was to jeopardise that for her by starting something together when he’d always be two hundred miles away.

  No, actually, the last thing he wanted was to finally get one perfect night with her – then watch her go back to her regularly scheduled existence without another thought for him. To have to endure next Christmas, and the one after that, hearing about her new boyfriend or her brilliant life that he wasn’t a part of.

  Or, even worse, have that night found out and lose any access to the only family he had at all.

  “Jake, you’re back! Lovely.” Philippa patted his arm, leaving a small smudge of flour on his jacket sleeve, then lowered her voice. “Did you manage to get the… things we discussed?”

  He shook his head, and handed her the carrier bag full of Toblerone. “Not a sign of one, I’m afraid. But I got the next best thing.”

  Philippa peered into the bag. “They’ll have to do, I suppose. I just can’t believe I forgot to buy them sooner! Thank you, anyway.” Dory appeared from the lounge, and Philippa shoved the bag behind her back, eyes suddenly wide. “Lara, why don’t you come through and grab a plate of mince pies to offer round in the lounge. I’ve got a new batch of mulled wine mincemeat ones…” Keeping the bag of Toblerone out of sight at all times, she bustled back towards the kitchen, Lara and Jake following.

  “What’s with all the mince pies this year?” Lara whispered as they both were handed plates of pastry topped treats.

  “No idea,” Jake murmured back. “But there’s been a hell of a lot of them.”

  “The ones with the pastry stars on the top are the mulled wine mincemeat ones, and the lattice topped ones are apple and cinnamon mincemeat.” Philippa pointed to each plate in turn, then ushered them back through towards the lounge.

  Jake wondered if he might be allowed to take off his coat at some point. It was kind of hot inside.

  “I know Mummy Phil is always a bit… manic about Christmas,” Lara said, picking off a pastry star and eating it. “But does she seem a little excessive even for her to you this year?”

  “I went to ten different shops looking for chocolate oranges for her this afternoon,” Jake admitted. “She was very clear about their importance.”

  “Weird.” She took a bite of the mulled wine mince pie. “As are these.”

  The lounge was packed with people, all with mulled wine glasses in hand. Molly looked up from where she sat on a floor cushion, surrounded by a few other friends that Jake vaguely recognised. She smiled up at him, and he gripped his plate of mince pies a little tighter. It was all very well telling himself that one night with her would be worse than never having her at all, but how was he supposed to keep on believing that when she smiled that way?

  She’d pinned her gorgeous auburn hair away from her face, intricate braids holding it out of her way, save a few loose waves around the front that made her eyes look wider and greener, somehow. Her slender legs were crossed, the tiny red and black skirt she was wearing riding up enough to give him a great look at them through thick black tights.

  Lara was wrong. She didn’t look scrummy. She looked irresistible. Which was going to be a problem.

  “You’re back,” she said, smiling up at him. “How was your meeting?”

  Meeting. There had been a meeting, somewhere before the chocolate orange fiasco. “Um, long. And tedious.” Mostly because he’d stayed long enough to let the clients change their minds about what they wanted another dozen times. If he hadn’t been avoiding Molly, he’d have been in and out in under an hour.

  “Have a seat.” Molly gestured to the cushion beside him, and Jake took a step back instinctively.

  “I have to hand these round for your mum,” he explained, even though Lara had happily plonked herself down on the arm of the sofa and was eating her way through her plate of mince pies. She caught him looking at her mid mouthful.

  “They grow on you,” she explained, which wasn’t really the point.

  Dory and Lucas were on the other sofa, talking with old family friends Jake recognised vaguely but couldn’t name. Glen was in his armchair, chatting with one of his taxi buddies. Everybody already had a plate with a mince pie on it.

  “Seriously, what is with the mince pies this year?” He hadn’t meant the comment to be heard, but Glen’s smile showed it had been.

  “You know my Philippa,” Glen said. “She likes Christmas to be perfect.”

  “Best day of the year,” Dory agreed. “Every year.”

  “And this year… well. She has more reason than ever to make it memorable,” Glen continued.

  “What reasons?” Molly asked, a frown line appearing between her brows.

  “All her children home with her, to start with.” Glen reached for another mince pie from Jake’s plate. “And all of them scattering to the four winds on January second. She wants to make this year somet
hing special.”

  “Christmas is always special here,” Jake said. His eye caught on the star he’d hung on the Christmas tree. Maybe he needed to stop feeling like an outsider, and just be grateful he’d been let in at all.

  On January second, Dory and Lucas would go back to New York. Molly would catch the train to London, and Tim would head off to Switzerland to start his new job. With none of them at home, Jake would have no reason to stop by for Sunday lunch, or even just a cup of tea if he was passing.

  They might not even all come home for Christmas next year at all. Which meant there’d be no place for him, either.

  He’d spent so much time worrying about being forced out of the family for sleeping with Molly, it hadn’t even occurred to him that with Tim moving away now too, there might not be a place for him anyway. Oh, he was sure he’d still stop by with a courtesy Christmas card and a bottle of wine or something, sometime over Christmas week. Have a glass of mulled wine and a mince pie before he headed home on his own.

  God, he might even have to buy a tree.

  Was Glen trying to let him down gently, give him the hint that things would no longer be the same, after this year? And if so… he might never really see Molly again, not like this. Not a whole week living in the same house, enjoying each other’s company, being a family.

  He may never get another opportunity to be close to her, if nothing else.

  Maybe the worst thing wouldn’t be to have her once and then have to go back to just being her friend. Maybe the worst thing would be never seeing her again, and knowing he’d missed his only shot with her.

  Jake took a bite of mince pie and glanced casually over at where Molly was chatting again with her friends. She looked happy. Vibrant, alive, and happy. She’d found what she wanted in life, and he wouldn’t be the one to take that away from her.

  But if this was his last Christmas with the Mackenzie family, he damn well intended to make it memorable, too.

  Chapter 11

  Something had changed. Molly wasn’t sure what, exactly, but it had. Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off her all afternoon. She could feel him watching her as she said goodbye to her friends, made plans to meet them in the pub later. Even Lara had confirmed that she wasn’t imagining it when Molly had texted her, moments after her best friend left the house.

  It’s the mini kilt, Lara had texted back, not entirely helpfully. After all, Molly knew full well that Jake was attracted to her. She just couldn’t figure out what had encouraged him to accept and enjoy that.

  Or how far he planned to take it.

  By the time all their guests had headed on their merry way, and they’d had their traditional Christmas Eve dinner of Tesco frozen canapés cooked by the tray load and more mince pies, it was time for church.

  Molly didn’t go every year – in fact, she hadn’t been for quite a few. For the past few years, when the midnight service was actually at midnight she’d usually been in the pub if she wasn’t working. This year, however, the service had been moved to nine thirty, which sounded a lot more manageable. Of course, she wasn’t sure any of them should be allowed near the advent candle, given the sheer quantity of brandy in the mulled wine, but otherwise she was actually looking forward to it.

  Maybe she was more homesick than she’d been ready to admit to her mum.

  “Your coat, milady.” Jake held out her duffel coat for her to slip her arms in, wrapping it around her to keep her warm. For a moment, she closed her eyes and relaxed into his embrace, letting herself imagine how it would feel to do that without all those pesky clothes between them.

  Then she heard her dad clearing his throat in the doorway and her eyes flew open again.

  “Everybody ready?” Glen asked, and Molly nodded.

  “Think so. Come on, we can save everyone seats if we leave now.”

  The midnight service was the one time of year that church was filled to capacity, according to Auntie Susan, who was rather better than the ‘every Sunday’ part of church going than the rest of them. She waved cheerfully from the row of pews third from the front, and they made their way forward to join her. She’d kept them the whole pew, but by the time everyone had crammed in, Molly found herself pressed closer to Jake than she’d expected him to be comfortable with.

  But, to her surprise, he simply let his arm rest along the back of the seats behind her, and allowed his thigh to press up against hers as if it were perfectly normal for them to be so close.

  Molly had to admit; it felt normal.

  In fact, she thought as she stood for the first carol, it felt more than normal. Sharing a carol sheet with Jake, hearing his low voice singing Once in Royal David’s City softly by her ear, being there with him and her entire family… it felt right. Every bit as right as it felt when he kissed her, or when she was wrapped up in his arms.

  God, she was in trouble.

  Molly Mackenzie, don’t you blaspheme at Christmas! Her mother’s voice was so sharp in her mind that Molly had to glance across to make sure Philippa hadn’t actually read her mind and chastised her out loud.

  Some days, she wouldn’t put it past her mum. Especially if she’d been able to telepathically tell what Molly had been imagining while Jake’s leg was pressed against her thigh. Very inappropriate for church.

  The service seemed to go on forever, but Molly suspected that was only because she was so desperate to get Jake alone and talk to him. As they finally finished up the closing carol, she turned to him, ready to try and articulate in whispers and facial expressions the need for them to get alone and fast.

  “Right. Pub,” Tim said, grabbing Jake’s arm and effectively destroying all of Molly’s plans. A crowded pub filled with her siblings was not where she wanted to have this conversation.

  Still, it couldn’t be any harder than having it at home with Mum knocking on the door asking if they wanted mince pies every five minutes, right?

  With a sigh, Molly followed Tim, Jake, Dory and Lucas out of the church, back into the snow, reminding herself that it was still only Christmas Eve. Technically, she had until New Year’s Eve to figure all this out with Jake.

  Except she was pretty sure she’d go crazy if she didn’t get him alone before then.

  -

  Jake sucked in the cold winter air and tried to find some sense of calm and balance. Or, at the very least, some way to forget how short Molly’s skirt was, and how good her body felt next to his. As much as he wanted to just drag her off to some hotel room somewhere, that wasn’t on the cards for tonight. Instead, he had the rest of the evening in the pub with her brother and sister, followed by a whole day with her parents tomorrow.

  Sex was very firmly off the cards.

  But somehow, that was almost all right with him. If this were to be his last Christmas with the Mackenzies, he wanted to enjoy it. Tomorrow, he’d talk to Molly about the possibility of something more – maybe they could even escape to his house for a day or so between Christmas and New Year. He could claim he was working, she could say she was visiting friends…

  And they’d both still be lying to people they cared about. But what was the alternative? Get caught screwing in her childhood bedroom by her father? No thank you. Jake had moved past that level of risk and humiliation almost a decade ago.

  But if he didn’t find some way to have her before the holidays were over, there was a fair chance he was going to lose his mind.

  The pub was conveniently situated across the road from the church, and already packed with people leaving the service by the time they got across. Dory, Lucas and Tim grabbed the last free table, while Molly somehow wound up at the bar with him – something he suspected was the result of planning rather than chance.

  “What am I buying?” Jake asked, as he jockeyed for position at the bar.

  Molly leant against him, stretching up on her tiptoes to put her mouth near his ear as she answered. “Three pints, a gin and tonic and a glass of white wine.” Jake tried not to shiver as her breath brushed across his
skin.

  “Pints of anything in particular?”

  She shrugged, and the movement made the robin on her jumper bounce. There was absolutely no way that should be attractive. Except… he knew exactly what was under that sweater. Had explored the territory early that morning. And God, he wanted to again…

  “Tim said you know what he wants, and Lucas said he’d try whatever you were having.”

  Easy enough. Jake forced himself to focus on getting the barman’s attention, not on the way Molly had leant back against the bar, her elbows resting on its polished surface as she surveyed the pub.

  “You know, no one can see us here. I mean, no one we know. They’re all hidden behind that pillar over there. And they definitely can’t hear us. So if there was something you wanted to say – or do – now might be a really good time…”

  The woman was temptation incarnate.

  “I have too many things I want to say to you to get them out in between drinks orders.” If he just didn’t look at her, maybe he’d be all right.

  Except then she shifted, turning to face him, one elbow still on the bar and her chin in her hand, looking up at him from under thick, long lashes.

  “Which just leaves us with something we could do…”

  Damn it. No man had enough willpower to resist this. Certainly not him, with his registered weakness for everything Molly Mackenzie.

  He risked a quick glance over his shoulder, but she was right; there was no way anyone they knew could see them. Which didn’t mean this was a good idea, but it did mean he’d run out of arguments against it. Even to himself.

  Swearing under his breath, Jake grabbed her waist and yanked her closer to him, his mouth finding hers more on instinct than through aim. His body had known what it needed to do for months now – it was only his brain getting in the way.

  Her lips were sweetly parted ready for him, and she gave out a tiny sigh as they sank into the kiss. It sounded like relief, which Jake could understand. Something inside him had been winding up, tighter and tighter, all year now. And this kiss, this decision, released just an iota of that tension.