Damn. Damn. What the hell had he done? He’d kissed his best friend. Jack stared after Bryony, trying to decide what shocked him most. The fact that he’d kissed her, or the fact that he hadn’t wanted to stop. He sat in the car with the engine switched off, staring into the frozen darkness feeling as though something fundamental to his existence had changed. Where had it come from? That sudden impulse to kiss her … Blondie was family. As much a baby sister to him as she was to Tom and Oliver. And until tonight he’d never thought of her in any other way. Or had he? Had he really never thought of her like that or was it just that he’d trained himself not to? He sat still, watching the house, and then suddenly the lights went on. He saw her walk into her cosy sitting room and shrug off her coat, revealing that amazing red dress and an avalanche of blonde hair. For years he hadn’t seen her in a dress and suddenly she seemed to be wearing a different one every week. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, still able to detect the tantalising scent of her hair and skin.
