How Sweet It Is (20 page)

It had been good between them that night, more than that even. But what would this mean for their already established relationship? And where exactly was it that they were heading? Because quite honestly, she didn’t know. She reminded herself of the bottom line here.

Jordan lived in Chicago.

She was just a kid.

And she was Cassie’s
sister
, she told herself for the five hundredth time. The facts were against her, no matter how much fun she’d had or how wonderful Jordan felt beneath her touch.

Her thoughts drifted more fully to Cassie, which unleashed so much more on her already delicate psyche. As she sat there, flashes of their life together played across her mind like the images in a film. She saw Cassie’s smile, which radiated, heard her laugh. She relived the first moment she fell in love with Cassie, after the Homecoming football game their sophomore year. The quiet nights they’d spent watching their favorite TV shows together. Popping popcorn for Cubs games. All of it.

Their life together had been everything to Molly. Tears sprang into her eyes right before the first sob tore from her throat. She covered her mouth, but they continued to wrack her body. Relentless.

The guilt, the overwhelming guilt at what she had done, was simply too much.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the air around her. But this time, it felt like there was no one there to forgive her.

When Jordan woke the next morning, nothing felt the same.

And really how could it? The night before was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face if she’d tried.

As she showered, she recalled each moment she and Molly shared in explicit detail. She couldn’t get past how well they’d fit together. Then there was how hot it had been. But that wasn’t even the best part. With Molly, she’d felt excited and secure all at the same time. It was the most wonderful combination, and she knew it was because they had their friendship, their history to build on.

They still did.

But there’d been a lot unsaid, and it concerned her.

She’d left when she did because she could tell that would make Molly the most comfortable. If there was even a chance of anything between them, and she knew it was slim, it was going to have to be in small steps. She could do small steps. She’d welcome any kind of step where Molly was concerned because she mattered too much to screw this up.

And while there was nothing she wanted more in life than to pick up the phone and call Molly, or even one better, take a little morning trip to the bakeshop, the Molly she knew would require space. Time to process the new level of intimacy between them. And she could give her that. She’d give her whatever she needed.

She studied herself in the mirror, deciding to leave her hair down today. She applied a tad bit of cranberry lip gloss and grabbed her messenger bag. She was due at the clinic for her volunteer shift in ten minutes. She swung open the door and—“Whoa.”

“Hey there, sexy kitten.” George grinned at her like the Cheshire cat he imitated on a regular basis. Her mind scrambled, because he was supposed to be in LA. It was just like him to show up unannounced on the doorstep of her childhood home, but damn it, he was a sight for sore eyes so she hugged him anyway.

“What in the world are you doing here?” she asked as she squeezed him tight.

“I missed you. Plus, you told me I was welcome anytime. It was a lie? You lied to me? What kind of best friend are you?” He feigned shock. Always the drama queen.

“I didn’t lie. You’re welcome here.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “I should hope.”

“Wait, what about my cat? You’re supposed to be taking care of Francis Ford Coppola until I get back.” She took her cat most everywhere with her, but with her dad’s allergies, she’d had to set up a caretaker for the trip.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s so pretentious when you call him that.”

“Fine. Frankie. Where’s Frankie, George?”

“Your next-door neighbor agreed to feed him. I left him the key to your apartment. I hope that’s okay.”

“Seriously? Paul? That guy’s had his eye on my place ever since he moved in. He’s probably taking measurements as he plans my accidental drowning.” She locked the door behind them.

“I wondered about the tape measure.”

She slugged his arm. “Walk with me. We’re going to work.”

“We are? I didn’t know we had a job. I’m moving up in the world.”

They walked to the car. “Don’t get too excited. We work for free.”

“Well, you win some, you lose some.”

“Sing it, sister.”

As they drove through town to the clinic, George whistled low. “When you said Mayberry, you meant it.” He squinted at a woman outside the post office. “Is that Aunt Bea? Oh my lord, I think it’s Aunt Bea. Pull over. Let’s pause and say hi.”

“Stop that. I warned you what it was like here. You gotta admit though, it’s quaint. Not exactly a hipster dwelling, but cozy.”

“It’s more than quaint, Jordy. It’s downright adorable. How have you never brought me home with you before? I could find a nice boy and live here forever.”

“I haven’t been back here in years. This is not news to you.”

He nodded knowingly and then turned to her from the passenger seat, joking forgotten. “And you’ve been okay since you’ve been back?”

And then she understood. He wasn’t here on whimsy, to sightsee in the little-town-that-could. He was genuinely concerned for her and was here to make sure she was all right.

It spoke volumes to Jordan about their friendship. She reached across and scratched the back of his head. “I’m okay, Georgie. I promise.”

He nodded. Sincere moments like this one were rare between them. He then shook himself free of the emotion with an upshift in energy. Typical George. “Good. Because I want you to be. Now take me to work so I can earn my proverbial keep.”

*

It was just past noon and they were just hitting the traditional lunchtime lull at the bakeshop. Molly loved the lull. It gave her a chance to have a cup of coffee and regain her footing. Business would pick up again in about an hour or so, but they generally used the down time to catch up on whatever was running low in the display case and prep more dessert items as they moved away from breakfast pastries.

Molly drizzled some butter over a tray of blackberry pie bars and slid them into the oven. When she turned around, Eden was studying her with unusual focus. She glanced around, self-conscious. “Um, want to tell me why you’re looking at me like I’m your perplexing science project?”

“You’re different.”

Molly moved to the sink to wash her hands, shaking off the declaration. “I’m tired. Is that what you’re picking up on?”

“That could be part of it. Why are you tired, Molly? Tell the kitchen.” She gestured to the empty room.

Molly squinted in confusion. “You’re the only one here.”

“Work with me, sugar. What’s with the relaxed demeanor, the casual swagger, and the extra glow? Did you have sex last night? Is this sexed up Molly? Because I’ve never met her.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but the fact that Eden so had her number precluded any sort of protestation she could come up with. Instead, she stared. Lamely. Because that’s what she apparently did now. Gave in to herself and her every whim.

Eden extended her hand as a slow smile spread across her face. “Nice to meet you. I’m Eden.”

Molly swatted her hand away. “Fine. Yes. There was sex.”

Eden danced in a circle Rocky-style as Molly looked on.

“Are you done? Are you done dancing?”

“Almost.” She danced in a second circle. “Was it as good as you thought it would be? Was it as hot?”

She felt the small smile form on her lips.

Eden punched her in the arm gleefully. “Well, color me happy. It was, wasn’t it?”

“Better,” she said shyly.

Eden arched a highly interested eyebrow. “And everything’s good? You survived a very big step. Proud of you, you know.”

“Well…not entirely. I had kind of a breakdown afterward.”

Eden’s mouth fell open. “Not in front of Jordan?”

“God, no. After she left. There was this moment when it hit. The realization. And I crumbled.” She leaned against the counter as she tried to figure out how to better explain. “You have to understand, I’ve never been with anyone other than Cassie. And that’s forever changed now. Last night was kind of monumental, and I didn’t roll with the punches as well as I hoped I would.”

“Is it because you were with someone else? Or because you were with
Jordan
?”

Well, if that wasn’t the million-dollar question. “Both. I think. I’ve always been a rule follower, Eden. You know this. I don’t cheat at Monopoly. I wait for the walk sign before crossing the street even when there aren’t any cars coming. I’ve never tried an illegal drug in my life. And sleeping with
the sister
feels like breaking a rule. There’s bound to be a no sleeping with the sister clause.”

Eden thumbed through an imaginary book in her hands. “Good news. I just checked and there’s not.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “It’s something I’m working through.”

“One thing at a time, honey. You can do this.” She pinched Molly’s cheek affectionately and went back to the salted caramel snicker doodles she was mixing. “I’m going to put on some music while we work. That cool?”

“Sounds great.”

Sixty seconds later, when the song “Let’s Talk About Sex” filled the room, Molly couldn’t help but laugh. And shake her hips subtly to the music.

As the day at the bakeshop came to a close and the sun began its slow descent in the sky, Molly sat on the bench outside watching the world head home around her. She looked down at her cell phone and smiled. She dialed quickly but got voice mail. That was okay; a message would do.

“This message is for a Jordan Tuscana. Sorry to bother you. This is Molly O’Brien, also known as the illustrious auction winner. That’s actually how I prefer to be addressed, by the way, ‘illustrious auction winner.’ I was calling to politely inquire about setting up a date and time to collect my winnings. See, I have a car that needs to be washed and a back porch that could be stained, and word on the street is that you’re surprisingly handy. I hope the street is right. Please get back to me at your earliest convenience. P.S. There’s possible lemonade. I emphasize the word possible.”

It was several hours later, while Molly was in the bathtub, that the reply must have come in. Wrapped in her cuddly white robe, she listened to the voice mail.

“Illustrious auction winner, thanks so much for your message. I wondered when you’d call in your winnings. In good news, the street doesn’t lie. I’ve won multiple car washing competitions. I made it to state in car washing when I was younger. If I remember correctly, I learned from the best. How do I know if this lemonade is any good?”

Molly dialed immediately and grinned when she got the outgoing message. “I’m going to let that lemonade comment go, as I actually
won
state in lemonade. I know. I’ll pause for your required reverence. What about tomorrow?”

She waited for her phone to buzz and when it did, she let the call roll over.

“I’d love to do manual labor tomorrow, but my schedule is bit tied up with a friend. Not that kind, auction winner. I know where your mind goes. How about the day after? Looks to be a good car washing day. Tag. You’re it.”

She dialed back. “There’s nothing more I hate than being it. The day after tomorrow is perfect. I’ll start the lemonade. Four o’clock? Please confirm. I can’t stop tapping my foot until you do.”

“Calling to confirm. Cease the tapping. People will stare. I can’t even wait, by the way. And I mean that with the utmost of sincerity. Sweet dreams, auction winner.”

Molly smiled at the phone for a few moments before moving on to feed Rover. Things were looking up. She had a meeting with a possible distributor for her truffles, her dad had a good week and seemed to be on board with his diet, and she was carefully figuring out how to navigate the dicey Jordan scenario. It wasn’t the easiest of situations, but maybe it was because she was putting the cart before the horse. It wasn’t like she had to be in some sort of hardcore committed forever relationship with Jordan. They were enjoying each other’s company, and sewing a few wild oats in the process. And you know what? Sometimes oats needed to be sewn.

“Sewin’ a few oats,” she said to Rover to keep him in the loop. “That’s all.” But it registered somewhere in the back of her mind that it was Rover she was talking to nowadays, and not Cassie. She didn’t allow herself to dwell. As soon as the thought entered her head, she erased it.

Not something she was ready to deal with.

She was holding her own, and she intended to stay that way. In fact, she caught herself humming a tune as she headed down the hallway for bed. It was almost ten and she needed her sleep. And as she drifted off, she felt the presence of a small smile on her face.

Hope. That was the last cognizant thought she had before slumber took over. It turns out, there was hope.

When Molly arrived home from work the next day, Jordan was waiting on the front porch. It had only been a couple of days, but she was definitely a sight for sore eyes in a mouth-watering kind of way. She wore faded jeans with a hole in the left thigh, a white tank top underneath a pale blue shirt, that she wore open. And it just so happened to bring out the color of her eyes vibrantly.

After stealing a minute to take her in, Molly checked her watch. “Am I late? I thought we decided on four. I hate to be late.”

“Then you’re in luck because I’m early. I was free, so I thought I’d head over. I didn’t mind waiting. It’s such a gorgeous day. Just look.”

Molly took in her surroundings. Jordan was right. Applewood had offered up a pretty nice one. A total of two clouds in the sky, and just a slight breeze that happened every few moments. Spring was in the air, quite literally, and temperatures were rising.