Jake:Not today.
Casual?Both frustrated and relieved, Molly raced back into the bathroom to apply light makeup,then threw on off-white baggy jeans, flats, and a baby-blue sweater. Obviously, there would be no fancy late lunch, and she was starving.
Outside, a haze hugged the autumn sun, and the day hummed with bees collecting the last of the nectar from Gloria’s garden. Jacket in hand, Molly strolled up the driveway, second-guessing everything about this cozy little meet-up, especially after his mother’s reference to Ava.
Jake pulled into the curb a few minutes later, wearing a helmet this time, and cut the engine. “Afternoon.”
“Are you serious? I’m not riding pillion on that.”
“Why not?” He offered her a helmet from his handlebars, his expression almost playful. “It’s the best way to travel on a warm day, so get over yourself and hop on.”
“Are you always this rude?”
He stared at her. “I’ve lived in Paris for almost ten years.”
“And that’s your excuse?”
He sighed. “Right, well, shall we take your car then, princess?”
Molly thought of her beat-up Suzuki Vitara parked in Gloria’s garage. She’d bought it off a surfer in Tulloch Point the week she arrived back from the States, the only vehicle she could afford at the time, and while it was cheap, you could hardly call it cheerful. She accepted the helmet and hopped on behind him. “Never let it be said that I’m not up for a challenge. And princess? Seriously? What are you, sixteen?”
“Noted. No princess.” He glanced over his shoulder as she clicked the strap into place. “Ready?”
“Yep.” Molly slid her hands around either side of Jake’s torso, his skin warm through the cotton of his top. And as she leaned in close, Jake smelled as she’d imagined he would—freshly showered and minty.
As they rode north around Carter Bay and climbed Whitman Avenue, leading to the hillside suburbs, the exhilaration of riding pillioncleared the hesitation from her mind.
Jake turned into a street shaded by a canopy of trees and stopped in the driveway of a modern townhouse nestled amongst a mature garden. As he cut the engine, Molly took in their surroundings. “Where are we?”
“My place.”
She climbed off the scooter, removed the helmet, and stretched her shoulders back as she cast an eye around the peaceful neighborhood. “You live here?”
“I do.” Jake took her helmet and stepped onto the path leading to the front door. “Coming?”
She hesitated. “Is there anyone else home?”
“No, I live alone.” His serious expression did nothing to steady her nerves. “It’s okay, you’re perfectly safe.”
Screened by a black-washed horizontal slatted fence branded with a large brass number eight, the elegant two-story residence stood back from the road. Still unsure of his motives, Molly lingered by the mailbox. Lying in bed that morning, she hadn’t been too sure what to expect of Jake’s afternoon invitation, but arriving at his place on a Vespa wasn’t it.
She pulled her phone from her bag. “I just need to send a quick text.”
“Okay.”
Molly:At Jake’s. 8 Silkwood Crescent.
CeCe:Copy that.Is afternoon delight on the menu? What about his GF???
Molly:Stop it. He just wants to talk.And I am not about to enjoy any kind of delight with someone else’s man.
Sharing their location with each other whenever alone with a boy was something the cousins started when living in Tulloch Point as teenagers, and Molly had kept it up over the years.
Jake pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the front door. He glanced back at her and gestured inside. “After you.”
Although her instincts told her everything would be fine, that didn’t stop the nervous flutter in her stomach as she stepped over the welcome mat. Because while Jake seemed an okay guy, if a tad grumpy at times, Molly reminded herself that he was Jesse’s twin, and considering her history with Jesse, that made for complications or, as he’d said a few days before, confusion.
Jake stood back and waited for her to enter the hallway, and when he ushered her into the living room, past a gallery of brooding gray-scale artworks, he left the front door wide open.
