Almost a Family

He looked at Molly, surprised that Sara had thought to ask permission. By the startled expression on her face, he could tell Molly was as taken aback as he was.

“Sure.”

The two disappeared and within seconds giggles and squeaks from plastic toys erupted from the sun porch. Jason went to the table, removed his plate and took it to the sink. “So.”

Molly laughed a little, tightly. “So. How was your day?”

Jason’s eyes slammed shut as he kept his back to her and leaned against the sink. Such a normal question. But a question he’d once expected to hear every day of his life from this woman. The more she was around, the more he was reminded that she’d walked away from a life together. A life he’d wanted but she hadn’t. Their life.

“It was fine.”

Molly walked over to the door to the porch as uncomfortable silence fell between them, heavy and anxious. He stared at her stiff back.

Jason sighed. “Actually it was terrible. I’m sorry, Molly, I never should have kissed you last night.”

Molly sighed, and the sound was filled with relief as she turned back to him. “I think I kissed you, but I agree it was a mistake.”

They were in agreement. The words shouldn’t have hurt, but they did. He met her gaze evenly. “It won’t happen again.”

“That’s good. I came ho

me to look after Sara and to help my sister. I don’t need complications.”

“I’m a complication now? How flattering.” He didn’t try to hide the bitterness in his tone.

Molly shoved her hands in her jeans pockets. Even in casual clothes, her manner of speaking, her posture, exuded control and purpose. She wasn’t the carefree teenager he’d fallen in love with. She was every inch a corporate lawyer. He was surprised that it held a little attraction for him.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she amended. “I only meant that I’m here for a short time and for a specific reason. In two and a half weeks, I’m flying back to Calgary and the life I left behind there. We both know that’s the truth. We have to act accordingly.”

“Does that life in Calgary include a relationship?” He turned to put his plate in the dishwasher, making his tone deliberately casual.

Molly’s brow furrowed. “I can’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“You’re right. It’s not. But I’m curious anyway.” He shut the fridge door. “Is there anyone special?”

Molly thought about Christian. She supposed they could be construed a couple in the loosest sense. They attended company functions together, filled an appropriate need in a world that moved conveniently by twos. But there was no passion, no commitment between them. And they both knew it. It was how they wanted it.

“I’m not in love, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why?” He leaned back against the counter, and Molly was struck by the fact that Jason hadn’t changed, not that much. He was still calmly, coolly logical. Still sure of himself. And still sure he was right. He was simply an older version of the young man he used to be.

The young man she’d been in love with. She sat down at the table. Her first lover, and now he was prying into her personal relationships, somehow making her feel like something was lacking. Like she was lacking. It would be awkward under the best circumstances; under these, it was torture.

“I beg your pardon?” The words were icy and her lip curled as she looked up at him. He’d lost the right to pry long ago.

“Don’t get all in a knot. I’m just curious. What’s preventing you from being in love?”

She laughed sharply. “Lack of decent men out there?” At his pointed glance, she relented. She simply wasn’t up to having another argument. “Oh, I don’t know as anything is preventing me. I suppose I’m too busy. Things are usually so crazy at work, I either stay late or take stuff home with me. I don’t have much of a social life.”

“And that makes you happy?”

Their gazes locked for long seconds as the question echoed through the room. Was she happy? With her eyes drowning in his dark chocolate ones, she remembered lazy Sunday afternoons when they’d never even bothered dressing. They’d eaten omelets and toast and had studied in bed until the feel of his hand tracing circles on her calves had grown so distracting they’d take a “study break.” Their lives had changed so much, but was she any less happy?

As they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, Molly knew she had to break the spell. They’d both agreed that kissing had been a mistake. The way they were looking at each other now made her want to leap at him and start undoing the buttons on his shirt, getting to the warm skin underneath. Which would solve nothing. She cast her eyes downward.

“Sure, I’m happy. It’s what I always dreamed of.”

Without asking if she wanted any, he filled the coffee pot and measured grounds into a filter. “I work ten- or twelve-hour days and come home to an empty house. I know what that’s like. It’s damned lonely.”