Mistletoe & Molly

by Jennifer Snow

  “Molly and I are…friends…sort of.” He knew his sister could see through him, but he wasn’t ready to admit his feelings for Molly just yet. In truth, he struggled to define them himself. She frustrated him. She had turned his life upside down and flat out refused to give him a chance. His mind wandered to her more than he cared to admit, and the sight of her made his heart ache with a longing he didn’t recognize. No woman had ever had such an effect.

  “For a friend, she knew very little about you.” Samantha assembled a cardboard box and tagged it with a blue sticker.

  “What did you tell her?” Aiden stopped placing toys and studied his sister’s innocent expression.

  “Not much.” She shrugged, avoiding his stare.

  “Samantha…”

  “Hey, you let my son drive,” she countered.

  “Don’t change the subject. What did you tell her?”

  “Nothing really. Just about how you took care of us after Mom and Dad died. She was surprised and impressed. I got the feeling she had a skewed view of who you are, and I’m willing to bet it’s your fault,” she accused, folding her arms across her chest.

  “My fault?”

  “Yes. Uncle Bob told me you paid for her winter tires, and she mentioned you helped secure her intern position at Rollins and Clarke.”

  “She got the position herself, I just made sure Mike paid her. So?” Aiden tossed teddy bears into an empty box and handed the box to Josh.

  “Molly is an independent woman who seems determined to do things her way. Then you come along and try to impress her with your success and contacts…” Samantha handed him another empty box and gave him a disapproving look.

  “I just wanted to help. It’s Christmas, the time for sharing, caring and all that.” Jeez, when had being nice become such a crime? First Molly, now his sister.

  “Quit sulking, I’m just saying women like Molly don’t want to be rescued.” She took the toys he held and put them away. “Now get to work, I have things to do before tonight’s game. And bring your wallet, Mr. Ford because I intend to win back all the money you took from me last month.”

  He laughed at her game face. Somehow, he suspected Samantha was right. He had a feeling he would be off his game this evening.

  Chapter Seven

  Molly studied her reflection in the mirror as she put on her lipstick. Why had she agreed to this evening? Being around Aiden was dangerous. He proved her wrong on every assumption she’d made about him so far. A loving and caring brother—he’d taken over the role of protector and provider at such a young age. Josh adored him. And for whatever reason Molly didn’t want to explore, it made her happy he didn’t introduce many women to his family. Spending more time with him was not a good idea.

  “If you know that, why are you going to poker night?”

  Her reflection didn’t have the answer.

  Shaking her head, she turned away from the mirror. She wanted to go. She wanted to see Aiden again, despite her protests to the contrary. Driving him to distraction, his sister’s words echoed. Well he wasn’t the only one distracted these days, and she really couldn’t afford to be. Her new career would demand much of her time. She didn’t have time for a relationship. A career you wouldn’t have yet, if it weren’t for him. She banned the thought from her mind. She owed him nothing, and she planned to put a halt to their time together. She wasn’t interested in a relationship with Aiden Ford and his sexy smile.

  ****

  “Full house!” Samantha dropped her cards on the table in front of her brother.

  “Where are you getting these cards tonight?” His voice was grumpy as he tossed his two pair across the table.

  “I told you I’d been practicing.” Samantha raked in her winnings, a wide smile plastered on her face. “And I think by the look of it, I have taken you out of the game.” She laughed an evil laugh.

  Molly watched the playful exchange between brother and sister, and again she couldn’t help notice how close the family was. Unlike her own. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d all been in the same room, let alone laughing and having fun.

  “Hey, loser, since you’re out, why don’t you get us a round of drinks?” Jim, Samantha’s husband asked.

  “May as well make myself useful,” Aiden muttered, ruffling his sister’s hair as he passed her chair.

  She swiped his hand away and patted her hair back into place.

  “I’ll help carry.” Molly had long lost her money at the table and followed Aiden through the swinging door to the kitchen.

  “I can’t believe her luck tonight,” he muttered as Molly handed him the vodka to pour into the blender.

  She laughed at the scowl on his handsome face. “I didn’t peg you for a sore loser,” she teased.

  He smiled as he replaced the lid and flipped the switch on. He leaned against the counter and studied her. “I’m usually a much better player. I’m blaming my losing streak on you.”

  “Me? What do I have to do with your bad card playing?” She poured more wine into her empty glass.

  “You’re distracting me.”

  “Whatever.” She took a sip of her wine. The way his gaze settled on her lips unnerved her, and she spilled a bit of liquid. She licked the trickling wine from the rim of the glass.

  “Okay, that’s it.” He crossed the kitchen in seconds. His arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her into his chest.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, not trusting her voice.

  “What I’ve wanted to do since the day you called me predictable in the café.” Not waiting for encouragement or protest, he lowered his head until his lips were less than an inch from hers. He stopped, and she stood on tiptoes, leaning up to meet him. He embraced her tighter.

  The kiss was anything but predictable. His tongue teased her lips until they parted, and she returned the kiss with passion he had known she possessed. Her hands intertwined in his hair, and he lifted her off of her feet, placing her firmly on the counter behind her, spilling the contents of her wine glass. Neither noticed. His hands on her ribs moved upward just as the swinging door flew open.

  Molly caught the sight of reindeer pajamas from the corner of her eye and shoved against Aiden’s chest, hopping down from the counter. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Mom says we aren’t allowed to sit up there.” Josh signed.

  “Molly was just trying to reach a glass…”

  “I had something in my foot…”

  They spoke in unison.

  The eight-year-old didn’t look fooled.

  “What did you need, buddy?” Aiden asked, his face still flushed.

  Molly’s eyes were downcast. Her hand trembled as she dried the spilled wine on the counter.

  “Water.”

  “Coming right up.” Aiden moved toward Molly.

  She moved out of his way as he reached past her for a glass. She avoided his pointed look.

  He suspected she was just as perturbed by the interruption. Her cheeks were rosy, and her lips red.

  “I’ll take these out to the dining room…” She picked up the martini glasses and pushed the swinging door open with her hips.

  His eyes followed her as she moved. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. He filled a glass of water and handed it to Josh. “Here you go. Now off to bed.” He scooped up his nephew and flung him over his shoulder. Children had the worse timing sometimes, but he could never be annoyed with the boy. Besides, he suspected it wouldn’t be his only opportunity to kiss Molly. In fact, he’d make it his mission to make sure it happened again, and often.

  ****

  As Molly undressed for bed she couldn’t erase the image of Aiden’s intense gaze, or the feel of his lips on hers. She touched her mouth, expecting to still feel the heat from their exchange. She grabbed an oversized jersey from a drawer and yanked it over her head. Pulling back the sheets of her bed, she climbed under the covers.

  What had he been thinking to kiss her in
his sister’s kitchen? Better yet, what had she been thinking to have allowed it to happen and to return the kiss?

  She shivered at the memory of his firm grip on her waist, hoisting her onto the counter. Thank God, Josh had entered when he had, or who knew what would have happened. Well it wouldn’t be happening again. She had no more reasons to see Aiden. She would avoid the café if she had to, and soon weeks would pass and she wouldn’t even have time to think about him. Content, she closed her eyes, no longer fighting the images of his smile. What was the harm in thinking about him one last time?

  Chapter Eight

  The sound of Frosty the Snowman woke Molly early the next morning. She’d forgotten to turn off the alarm. The sun shining through her open curtain looked inviting and warm. Stretching, she threw back the covers and slid her feet into her red slippers, an early Christmas present from her aunt. In the kitchen, she filled the coffee maker and turned it on. Flicking the switch on the TV remote, she turned to the local news station.

  “The storm will be approaching from the west and is predicted to last the next few days. Emergency precautions are advised…” the weather lady warned.

  She must be crazy. Molly looked outside. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun was brilliant on the white snow below, and a hint of a breeze rustled the branches of the tree outside the window. Not storm weather. “Oh well, it wouldn’t be the first time they got it wrong.” Molly poured a cup of coffee and curled up in her favorite armchair. Not having to work at the café on the weekends was a luxury these days, and she felt guilty that she hadn’t made any plans to take advantage of her free time.

  Studying her fingernails, she had an idea. A spa day at home. Her mother had given her a complete do-it-yourself spa set for her birthday, and she’d yet to take the foot bath and face steamer out of their boxes. Today was the day. Switching off the TV, she turned on the relaxing sounds CD, then going into the bathroom, she filled the face steamer and foot bath with hot water. By the end of the day, the package promised she would be relaxed, rejuvenated, and pretty from head to toe.

  Hours later, feet done, nails done, skin exfoliated and moisturized, Molly, wearing a dead sea mud mask, lay on her yoga mat for the final step in the rejuvenating process—meditation. Already she felt like a new person. She wondered what Aiden would think of her silky soft skin or her pretty red toes. She dismissed the thought as the meditation started.

  “Take a deep breath…in through your nose, filling your lungs, your abdomen, your diaphragm…hold…then release. Let your breath go through the mouth slowly, expelling every last negative thought or stress. Feel it melt away from your body.”

  She did feel the stress of the past months drift away.

  “Start to relax your muscles, starting with your toes and feet…feel them sink into the floor…”

  Ahhh. Just what she needed.

  Ding Dong!

  Molly jumped at the doorbell’s unexpected loud noise. Who was that? She hadn’t ordered dinner yet. At least she couldn’t remember calling the Chinese food restaurant.

  She turned off the CD, raced to the door, and opened it. “Oh my God. What are you doing here?”

  “What’s on your face?” Aiden asked at the same time.

  Molly’s hands flew to her mud-covered face and then to the towel she had wrapped around her long hair to keep it free of mud. She yanked, and her wet, limp tresses fell to her shoulders. Not much of an improvement. “It’s a mud mask.” She hid her frame behind the door. Her yoga shorts and bra top felt very revealing under his scrutinizing gaze. “What are you doing here?” she asked again.

  “We were evicted.”

  Layla chewed a loose string from the carpet down the hall.

  “What? Oh no, they saw Layla?”

  “Yes, last night while we were out for our walk. The notice to evict appeared on my door this morning. They gave me twenty four hours. I was lucky the apartment had been furnished.” He looked past her into the apartment.

  Molly noticed a duffle bag lying on the floor. “Okay… So what are you doing here?”

  “I’m staying with you. If that is in fact you… Can you wash that off, or is it like cement?” He leaned forward to touch the dry mud.

  She moved out of his reach. “You can’t stay here.”

  “That was the deal.”

  What deal? “We didn’t make a deal.” She was sure she would have remembered agreeing to let him stay with her.

  “Yes, we did. The other night in the snow. I said I would keep Layla, but if we got evicted before my lease was up we were staying with you.” He picked up the duffel bag and advanced toward her. “Come on, Layla.”

  The dog ran past Molly into the apartment. She curled up on the corner of the yoga mat and yawned.

  “She’s had a stressful day. May I?” Aiden gestured inside the apartment.

  “No. I mean, can’t you stay with Samantha?” Molly blocked the entrance to her apartment. This was crazy. He couldn’t stay here.

  “Can't. Josh is allergic to dogs.”

  “So am I.” The lie was weak.

  “You volunteer at an animal shelter.” He shifted the bag on his shoulder. “This is getting heavy…”

  “There must be someone else…”

  “Nope, there isn’t. You got me into this mess, I’m staying here.” He moved past her into the apartment. He took a moment to study her long bare legs and feet as she stepped away from the door. “Cute toes.”

  Molly stood open-mouthed, staring at her uninvited house guest.

  “I had planned on Chinese food for dinner. Does that work for you?” He dropped the bag in the hallway and proceeded to the living room.

  Did that work for her? Let’s see, did any of this work for her? No! But judging by the way he had picked up her TV remote and made himself at home on her afghan rug, she didn’t think her protests would be considered. He was here...in her apartment. So much for her plan of forgetting him.

  “Why don’t you go wash that stuff off of your face before we need to chisel it off, and I’ll order dinner?” He picked up the phone book. “We should order it now before the storm hits.”

  Too stunned to speak, Molly nodded and went into the bathroom. She closed and locked the door behind her. She had a feeling the storm had already arrived.

  ****

  Aiden tossed and turned on Molly’s tiny couch, careful not to roll over onto Layla who slept nestled in the crook of his arm. The storm had indeed arrived, and the wind gusting outside the thin paned windows made the glass shake and the apartment walls creak. The power had blinked throughout the night but somehow had stayed on. They’d gathered candles and flashlights just in case.

  It wasn’t the wind howling or the cramp in his arm that kept him awake. Thoughts of Molly in her yoga shorts and bra top reappeared, despite his best efforts, behind his closed lids. The woman was beautiful. Her bare skin had tempted his touch, and it had taken all of his effort to resist.

  She’d spent most of the evening in her room, claiming to have work to do. He suspected she wanted to avoid him as much as possible. That was fine—for now.

  His feelings for her had erupted overnight. Since their kiss, there was no more denying them. He was in love with her, plain and simple. The kiss had revealed everything he knew already. She was in love with him too. Their kiss had been full of passion and yearning and need. Thoughts of it stirred him to his core, and he groaned as sleep eluded him. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her standing there, wet hair hanging loose on her shoulders. Even caked in mud she was gorgeous. Those piercing green eyes holding a look of defiance, but knowing she had somehow agreed to the arrangement. He stared at the closed bedroom door, so close. He wondered if she was asleep.

  Thunder could be heard in the distance, and seconds later, a flash of lightning lit up the room. Molly’s door flew open, and he could see her silhouette in the hallway.

  “You okay?” he asked, trying not to startle her in the darkness. The lightning h
ad taken out the power. He fumbled in the dark for the flashlight on the table next to him. Shining it in her direction he noticed she hadn’t moved from the doorway. “Molly?” He sat up.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you.” She came toward him.

  In the light of the flashlight he could see she wore an old hockey jersey. “No, I was awake,” he told her, moving over on the couch to let her sit.

  “I guess they were right about the storm after all.” She wrapped her arms around her thin frame.

  “Are you afraid of thunder and lightning?”

  “No, of course not. Well, not afraid… I’m fine until the power goes out, and then I suffer from mild anxiety attacks and have trouble sleeping.”

  She surprised him with her honesty. She was always so tough. This vulnerable side of her was endearing. He suspected she hid it well under most circumstances.

  “I’m not a fan of these storms either,” he told her, sitting up and fixing the pillow under his arm.

  “Really?” She sat.

  “Yeah, I understand how you can be unnerved by the loud claps of thunder and the howling wind when you’re alone.” He shivered. The room was cold already. “You have electric heat?” He offered her the end of the blanket.

  “Yes. It can get cold, fast.” She tucked the warm blanket around her bare legs.

  “Well, let’s hope the power comes back soon. Why don’t you head back to bed where it’s warmer?” he suggested when she shivered.

  “I’d rather stay here and try to get some sleep if that’s okay with you?” She lowered her eyes.

  Earlier, she’d been desperate to put as much distance between them as possible. “You want to sleep out here with me?” He didn’t believe it. She’d been quite clear about the sleeping arrangements. In fact, he remembered the threat of pepper spray if he so much as opened her bedroom door. He smiled.

  “I know it’s stupid, but would you mind? Just until the power comes back on?”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” He lay down on his side as far back on the couch as he could and lifted his arm to make room for her. This was a surprising turn of events.