An image of the ring floated before her eyes and despite any regrets she might have to the contrary, the decision had been made long ago to end their relationship. No good could come from rekindling it now. She knew that deep down. She’d made her life. This was a complication she didn’t need. It didn’t matter what she wanted.
One more kiss would be one too many.
“Nothing’s changed,” he murmured, his breath warm on her hair. His body slid closer until she could feel his hips pressing against hers. “I still want you, Mol.”
His words did the trick. She could get lost in heated actions but admissions of lust had the power to make her stop. She pushed him, squirming away from his arms and the eyes that seemed to see how divided she was.
“But it’s different now between us. This wouldn’t solve anything.”
His eyes burned bright across the few feet that separated them. “I know. It doesn’t stop the wanting. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to make love to you.”
Her heart spun about in her chest. “We moved on.” She struggled, unsuccessfully, to keep her voice steady.
“You moved on. I’m still here.”
Everything swirled around her as the impact of his words struck her. Had he been stuck in the past all this time? Together with the knowledge of the ring it was too much. If she wasn’t careful, next he’d be saying she’d made a mistake and should never have gone to Toronto. And if she wasn’t careful, she’d be agreeing with him. She twisted her hands around each other nervously.
“I can’t do this. I can’t.”
“I know you can’t.”
Her hands stilled. What this was all adding up to was hard to believe. “Are you saying you’ve never gotten over me?” Even to her ears, that sounded incredibly conceited, but after what he’d said, what she’d found, she had the burning desire to know.
“What if I haven’t? We both know that in another week or so you’re heading back to Calgary. And, yeah, maybe this isn’t wise, but right now I’m not exactly thinking with my head, you know what I mean?” He stood before her, all lean muscle and snug jeans and her stomach flipped.
Lust. It was just lust and perhaps a little nostalgia about how good it had been between them. He wasn’t asking for forever. He was asking for a fling. It was a horrible idea that couldn’t have a good ending, and it was unlike him to even suggest such a thing. That knowledge made it a little easier for Molly to pull further away.
“We’ve left Sara far too long.”
Jason stared at her for a long moment, his chest heaving. It seemed he couldn’t shut off his body any more effectively than she could. Molly let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as he leaned over to retrieve his shirt from the floor. Her mouth watered. Traitor, she grumbled inwardly, staring at the worn patches on his jeans pockets.
There was a knock on the door, and they both jumped.
“Uncle Jason? Bubbles needs to pee, I think.”
Molly avoided his eyes. “You put your stuff in the washer. I’ll get Bubbles.” And then I’m getting out of here, she thought. She couldn’t deal with this right now.
She opened the door, trying to keep her face pleasantly normal for the three-year-old. “Let’s let Bubbles outside, okay?”
Sara followed Molly to the patio doors. As the washer started filling, Molly slid open the door and grabbed Bubbles’ chain.
“What were you and Uncle Jason doing in there, Aunt Molly?” Sara’s voice was sweetly innocent.
“Laundry,” Molly replied, and her hands fell still.
In the old days, Jason’s apartment had had laundry facilities in the basement, which had meant leaving the apartment for each separate load. On lazy afternoons, while making love, they’d ignore the ringing of the phone, and when asked, they’d always say they’d been “doing laundry.”
It had been a long, long time since she’d done laundry with Jason. But she could feel it as if it had been yesterday. She’d admit it to herself now, how close they’d come to doing it again not ten minutes ago.
“How come your face is all red?” Sara persisted, and Molly’s smile faltered as she felt her face color further.
Jason emerged from the laundry room, fully clothed and forcing a smile. “Did you eat all the food, muffin?” He ruffled Sara’s hair and glanced at the plate with the remnants of a chicken nugget and a few fries stuck in ketchup.
“Nope. Just mine. I got a puzzle in my kid meal.”
“Cool. Guess I’ll nuke mine.”
He glanced in Molly’s direction. “Mol? Heat yours for you?” His voice was coolly polite, as if the hot little scene in the laundry room had never happened.