How Sweet It Is (16 page)

“May I? I don’t think it can take much more.”

Molly blew a strand of hair off her forehead in defeat. “Might as well.”

With gentle hands and one firm push, Jordan was able to reseat the dishwasher and smiled widely at Molly when the sounds of rushing water answered back. “Tada.”

“Congratulations. Even the dishwasher gives you whatever the hell you want.” She didn’t mean it, but Jordan smiled wider, enjoying the game.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. So about the movie?”

“You’re not listening. No movie.”

“Because you’re avoiding me.”

“Because I’m exhausted.”

“We can watch one together at your place. Or mine, but seeing as how it’s a couple hours away in Chicago, it might make it a long night. So maybe yours.”

“I think I need some alone time tonight.”

Feeling alive for the first time in so long, Jordan took a step into Molly, effectively trapping her between the counter and her body. Molly’s eyes widened and she inhaled noticeably as Jordan placed her hands on her waist, her thumbs possessively across Molly’s abdomen. Her eyes took a pass at Jordan’s mouth and she knew, just knew, Molly was thinking about that kiss. “Are you sure?” Jordan asked quietly, dipping her head, already so close to Molly’s mouth. She remembered how it felt on hers just a few nights ago.

Molly nodded slowly, but the way her eyes fixated on Jordan’s lips left room for question. They hovered there for a moment, breathing in the same air. The tension was thick. Jordan felt it all over.

Molly spoke just above a whisper. “I can’t do this with you, Jordan. What would that say about me? What kind of person I am?” Slowly, Jordan slid her hand into Molly’s hair. It felt like spun silk on her skin.

“That you’re human. That you feel things. What are you feeling right now?” She returned her hands to Molly’s waist and inched them slowly up her rib cage, stopping only when her thumbs came just beneath her breasts, tracing the curve below.

Molly’s lips parted slightly in surprise and she hitched in another breath. “You know what I’m feeling. You always seem to know.”

Jordan was surprised by the admission and how quickly her body was responding to Molly’s. The electricity was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Off the charts, actually. Jordan moved in closer until their bodies touched fully. They were both breathing a little erratically. Jordan stared into Molly’s eyes and watched as the tiny flecks heated to gold.

Yep. They were on the same page.

“The thing is, I feel it too, Mol.” She lingered there for several wonderful yet torturous moments before finally taking a slow step away.

She made her way to the swinging door that led to the front of the bakeshop. “You know what I want. Ball’s in your court.”

Soft rock played quietly from the iPod dock in Molly’s green and white kitchen three nights later. She loved her kitchen. It was probably her favorite room in the entire world, homey and smelling of fresh spices she kept on the rack. It was nearly eleven that night, and even though she had to be up at four the next morning, she was in project mode and very little got in her way when that happened.

Baking had always been her security blanket, and after the week she’d had, the kitchen called out to her. Instead of dwelling on the things that bothered her, she could lose herself in the creation of something sweet and wonderful and the world would be a better place when she was done, wouldn’t it?

Peanut butter cups were the mission du jour and she was up to her arms in flour. Encouraged by Pink Floyd and the way her mind got all soft and slow when she baked, Molly kept her head down and her hands moving as she sashayed her hips in time to the music. Therapy, she thought.

She danced her way to the too high cabinet above the stove and felt blindly for the jar of peanut butter she kept there. But damn, it was empty because she’d needed therapy the week before too, when she’d stayed up all night perfecting her chocolate chip pound cake and then the five thousandth batch of MollyDollys she’d need for the festival.

Derailed and furious at herself for forgetting to pick up a new jar at the grocery store, she stood in the kitchen weighing her options. This was not an ideal situation, this peanut butter crisis, but it wasn’t insurmountable. When one needed peanut butter, one should venture out into the world and get some. So she grabbed her keys and headed to the bakeshop. Once there, she quickly flipped on the lights and scanned the shelves of the walk-in pantry until she located the large jar they kept there. In another horrifying peanut butter blow, they were virtually out there too. She checked the paperwork, and sure enough, Eden had added peanut butter to this week’s grocery order.

Well, damn it all to confectioner’s hell.

She checked her watch. It was after eleven thirty and Conyers Grocery would be closed for the night. But she was this far in. Why not take the drive to Franklin? It was only one town over? It would take her eighteen minutes each way, but it was a matter of principle now.

She wasn’t going down like this.

She hopped back into her car and set out on the winding, dark farm road. Surprisingly, she found herself actually enjoying the late night drive. As the Eagles sang about Hotel California on her radio, her mind drifted to the very thing that had her baking in overdrive.

When Jordan left her standing alone in the bakeshop’s kitchen three days ago, she’d drawn in a shaky breath and struggled desperately to regain her equilibrium. When it came to Jordan, it seemed her mind and body were in a war for the ages. As Jordan had pressed up against her in those shorts and thin work out top, she’d felt it all the way down to her toes. She now understood that she was more attracted to Jordan than even she realized. The very person she
could not
be attracted to by the laws of the Universe.

But she knew the power they carried now. The two of them.

She’d felt it full on in the kitchen. And all she had to do was avoid moments like those, delicious as they may feel, at all costs. Because there was guilt involved, a whole hell of a lot of it, and Molly had spent the rest of the week bathed in it. Not to mention what it would do to her relationship with the Tuscanas. It was hard enough for Amalia to hear she was interested in dating again, but her becoming romantically involved with Jordan could devastate the balance and ruin their relationship forever.

On the other side of the coin, she hated what this newfound dynamic was doing to who she and Jordan were to each other. Jordan was important and by pushing her away, she was losing her altogether and that didn’t feel right either.

Because when Jordan arrived back in town, something shifted into gear for Molly. The shop was going under, but just having Jordan around again made her feel that there was hope for Flour Child. For the future. For her.

And yet here they were, stuck in neutral.

And she had not a clue what to do about it.

Hence, she baked.

The twenty-four hour Walmart in Franklin didn’t let her down, and to prove a point to the cosmos, she almost bought the whole wall of peanut butter. Instead, she settled on three jumbo jars of the good stuff, paid the bored with life cashier, and climbed back into her car.

Victory. Peanut butter crisis averted.

She was singing along to Bob Dylan ten minutes later and doing fifty-five on the farm road when her car began to choke and sputter until it was jerking forward in random spurts.
Oh God. Oh God.
Flashing back to her high school driver’s ed class, she relied on instinct, held firmly to the steering wheel, and kept her foot from pumping the gas too vehemently. As her heart hammered away in her chest, she whispered the words, “please, please, please,” until the little-car-that-could gradually decelerated altogether, and slowed to a stop on the side of the very dark, very lonely road.

Damn it all again.

After thanking baby Jesus for her life, she got out and surveyed the scene. Except there was really nothing to see. She popped the hood but had very little idea what she was looking at. An attempt to start the car again just produced more sputtering.

Maybe that victory declaration had come a little too soon.

She called for roadside assistance, but due to the late hour, and her out of the way location, she was informed it could take up to two hours before they could have the one guy on duty out to her. Seriously? Just the one guy? The script reading phone operator advised that she not head out on foot and instead encouraged her to remain in her vehicle with the doors locked until help arrived.

She hung up and did the next best thing. She called Mikey.

“Why hello there, Molly,” he said upon answering. “What’s up in your world?”

“Hey, Mikey. I’m sorry to call so late, but I have kind of a situation here and was hoping you might be able to play big brother-in-law and help me out.”

“No problem. I’m great at big brother-in-law and I was still up. What happened?”

She explained the embarrassing sequence of events that now sounded more ridiculous than any words could justify as she paced rapidly back and forth in front of her car.

After a pause and chuckle, “Give me twenty minutes.”

“You have no idea how many kisses I plan to pepper your cheek with. Thank you so much!”

“See you soon. Hang in there and—”

“Lock the door,” she said with him in unison.

*

Jordan closed the door to Risa’s bedroom. “Okay, she’s out like a light. Just needed a little reassurance that there are, in fact, no sharks swimming on her floor when the lights go out. Common mistake.”

She settled back onto the couch and pulled her feet up to her chest, all set to finish the film she’d started with Mikey three hours before. It was rare that they got much one-on-one time, but with Teresa out of town on a girl’s trip, she was taking advantage of the opportunity to bond with her brother and his kids. It was only a minor inconvenience that their movie was interrupted every twenty minutes when one of the kids needed something. She kind of enjoyed being the one to step in and help out. Plus, they really seemed to like her so the old ego wasn’t exactly suffering.

Mikey stood and turned to her apologetically. “I hate to extend the longest movie in the history of film even further, but—”

Jordan stared at him pathetically. “Et tu, Brute?”

“Afraid so.”

She decided to cut him a break. He did seem to have a lot on his plate with Teresa out of town. “So what’s up?”

“Molly’s car broke down halfway between here and Franklin. I need to get out there and pick her up.”

Jordan shot a glance at the clock. “What the hell is she doing out this late by herself?”

He shrugged. “Got me. Something about a peanut butter crisis. Your guess is as good as mine. Can you stay with the kids until I get back?”

She stood and headed for her keys. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll go.”

“Bad idea. I don’t like the idea of you out this late either.”

“Please, Mikey. I live in downtown Chicago.”

“Point taken.”

*

She put the top down on the Beetle because it was that kind of night. The wind in her hair felt good as she sped along the twisting farm road. It took her twelve minutes to reach Molly’s car. When she arrived, she could just barely make her out in the driver’s seat.

She parked on the opposite side of the road and headed over. As she approached the car, Molly stared at her through the window questioningly. Finally, she exited the car wearing cutoff denim shorts and a hooded gray Rutgers sweatshirt. She looked incredibly confused and equally adorable.

“What’s going on? I thought Mikey was coming.”

“He wanted to, but he had an existing date with a couple of small people. Hence, you get me.”

“Yeah, hence,” she said neutrally, but Jordan could tell she was relieved someone had come to her rescue. The night was dark and the road was pretty desolate. She was glad she’d gotten there when she did.

“So will the engine turn over at all?”

“It tries and tries but never really gets there.”

“It could be the spark isn’t making it to the spark plugs.”

Molly looked hopeful. “Do you know how to fix that?”

“Not a clue. Let’s get out of here and let roadside tow it to Gibson’s.”

As Molly walked around the passenger’s side of her bug, Jordan surveyed her across the car. “So. Peanut butter.”

Molly shot her a glare as she slid into her seat. “Shut up.”

“If you insist. Top down okay?”

“Sounds nice, actually.”

Jordan smiled and pulled onto the road. As they drove, the cool air rushed past them, lifting their hair as the stars twinkled brightly above. The air smelled smoky, as it always seemed to on those country highways. They rode in silence for a while. Finally, Molly leaned her head against the seat and turned. She gazed at Jordan steadily, those soft brown eyes now gentle.

“Thank you for coming out so late. That’s what I should have led with when you got here. I seem to forget my manners with you lately, so let me try again. Thank you.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind coming. And you’re welcome.”

Molly glanced over her shoulder. “So this car, how long have you had it? Last I remembered, you were driving a
green
Beetle.”

“True. When I hit twenty-five, I decided it was time to get a little more serious about life and swapped in the bright green for dark blue.”

“Because blue is infinitely more refined?”

“Well, objectively.”

She laughed and Jordan felt it right in the center of her chest. It was nice to laugh with Molly again. It had been days since she had, and it was apparently her new favorite pastime. “So outside of the infamous peanut butter breakdown, how was your day?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Oh, you know, baking cookies and saving the world, that kind of thing.”

“Multitalented.”

“Aww, you noticed.”

“I notice a lot. I love you in the cutoffs, by the way.”

Molly’s cheeks colored and she glanced down at her shorts. “Thanks, but maybe let’s not flirt. It just causes problems.”