How Sweet It Is (22 page)

He seemed to perk up a bit at the offer. “I don’t want to ruin any plans you might have.”

Molly shrugged. “We don’t have plans and I’m starving. Do you feel up for it?”

An enormous smile broke across his face, as if he were touched at the invitation. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” Molly said. “Let me call over to The Manor and let them know what’s going on. I don’t want them sending out a search party for you.” As she passed Jordan, she squeezed her arm. “Thank you,” she said quietly, meeting her eyes.

Jordan nodded, happy to hear she hadn’t overstepped her bounds.

*

Molly listened to the two of them in awe. They were like long lost best pals.

“I think
City Lights
might have been his best work.” Her father set down his fork. “The opening scene where the tramp meets the flower girl, now that was a masterpiece.”

Jordan nodded, her eyes sparkling in excitement. “Did you know Chaplin shot that scene three hundred and forty-two times? He couldn’t figure out how the blind girl was going to mistake the tramp for a wealthy man. Can you imagine the mood on that set?”

“I wouldn’t want to.”

“Cheers to that.” They clinked glasses and Molly regarded them. They’d been chatting about movies for the past thirty minutes and seemed to be having a great time. It was fun to watch them exchange stories, each so involved in what the other had to say. She could listen to them all night.

It turned out that Jordan’s idea had been a good one.

They’d decided on Angelina’s, a quiet little Italian restaurant just on the perimeter of Applewood. They’d shared a bottle of Chianti, though her father limited himself to one glass. The homemade lasagna was to die for, and Molly had been eying Jordan’s spaghetti and meatballs ever since their food had arrived. When her father excused himself to the restroom, she made her move.

“Hey, isn’t that Mrs. Trimble, the hateful algebra teacher from high school?”

Jordan turned in her chair and Molly slyly stole a meatball and popped it into her mouth. Jordan whirled back around and shot her a look of feigned shock. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“So incredibly worth it,” Molly managed as she finished chewing the most wonderful meatball on the planet.

“Totally blatant.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a daredevil. They actually call me that around town. Daredevil Molly.”

Jordan laughed. “First of all, no one calls you that, and second of all, you’re really cute when you have sauce all over your face.”

“And that would be?”

“Right now. Yeah.”

“Oh,” Molly said, appropriately embarrassed. She grabbed her napkin and went about scrubbing the side of her mouth.

“No, it’s actually over—Here, I got it.” Jordan delicately dabbed the corner of Molly’s mouth, smiling. Her voice was now low, intimate. “I can’t believe the same girl who was systematically taking my clothes off just two hours ago is now blushing over a little marina sauce.”

Molly felt her face heat further along with other parts of her. “You cannot say things like that to me in a restaurant. Besides, I was…in the moment then.” But just the mention of their interlude on the couch took Molly right back there.

“But not now?”

Molly could faintly smell Jordan’s perfume. Some sort of intoxicating vanilla fragrance that was affecting her ability to think clearly. Before dinner, Jordan had run home and changed into her alter ego, fashionable supermodel. Her outfit of designer jeans, a royal blue cuff shirt, and modest heels, was in great contrast to the one she’d worn earlier. One of the qualities that made her incredibly intriguing. Not to mention alluring. So many interesting layers to explore. Molly’s eyes dipped to Jordan’s mouth, and her stomach did a roll. It took her a minute to find her voice, her body now thrumming. “No, I’d say now too.”

Jordan’s expression took on the heat Molly felt. “We’re kind of—”

“Combustible,” Molly supplied, without even having to think about it.

“What’s combustible?” her dad asked as he settled back into his chair.

Molly laughed, totally caught. “Oh. The, um, what’s it called? The chocolate lava cake they rolled by.”

He shook his head. “I wish I’d saved room.”

“Next time,” Jordan said.

The mood from earlier was recaptured easily as they settled in and waited for the check. It had been a fun night. Her dad looked a little tired, but the laughing, smiling, and time out seemed to have bolstered his spirits noticeably. In fact, she didn’t understand why she hadn’t thought of it sooner. Visiting him daily was all well and good, but she should have been taking him out more, even if it had to be for short spurts. He was a gregarious type who needed to feel connected to the world. She decided to make a point to plan things for them to do together outside of The Manor.

As they drove back to Molly’s house after getting her father settled back in, Molly felt herself at a loss.

What now? She didn’t know the proper protocol here and didn’t want to assume anything. There was Jordan’s car parked along the curb, and there were the steps that led to her house.

Her bed.

So many options with so many repercussions.

Jordan turned to face her on the sidewalk outside of the house. “It was fun tonight. Catching up with your dad. Smart guy.”

The warmth in Jordan’s eyes caused Molly to relax. “He is. Thanks for being so wonderful tonight. You knew what he needed when I didn’t. He had a great night tonight because of you.”

Jordan raised a shoulder and let it drop almost shyly. “I don’t know what you mean. We all had a fun night.”

“Yes, you do.” Molly took a step into her and tugged lightly on her shirt. “You’ve turned into a pretty great person, you know that?”

Jordan appeared genuinely touched. “Thank you.” They stood on the sidewalk starring at each other lazily before Jordan took a deep breath. “I guess I should say good night.”

“Yeah.” And then, “Is that what you want?”

Jordan took a minute and shook her head.

“What we’re doing here, Jordan, it can’t be—”

She held up a hand, but her eyes held understanding. “I get it. You don’t have to explain. I won’t develop any grand ideas about the future. I’m a big girl, Molly, and I know the score here.”

But Molly felt the need to explain. “No, it’s not like that. There’s no score. I care about you, Jordan, a lot. It’s just that this is a tricky situation and, God, when you look at me like that I can’t even think straight.”

Jordan’s lips parted in surprise. She moved in slowly and kissed her, causing Molly’s head to spin right on cue. “Can we go inside?” Jordan said quietly. “Forget the world for a while? Even if it’s just temporary?”

“That sounds about perfect.” And it did. They were on the same page and all was well.

When they came together that night, their pace was slow. Wonderfully so. Molly savored each tender touch, excruciating as it was to not race ahead. They enjoyed each other in a whole new way that Molly found intoxicating. She let herself get lost in Jordan, and it was the most satisfying feeling in the whole world.

Letting go.

She marveled how adept Jordan seemed to be at just about everything, and that included sex. She knew exactly when to be sweet and coaxing and when she should be neither of those things. It was a powerful combination.

“You have some impressive moves,” she said later as they lay there exhausted alongside each other. She traced the outside of Jordan’s breast with her finger.

Jordan propped her head up with her elbow. “You haven’t seen all of them yet.”

The sentence shot a powerful thrill through her center. “I can’t even imagine what you’re referencing.”

“You don’t have to imagine. Because there’s always later.” And then she smiled. And there it was, that connection, that little click that they’d always had between them. In spite of all the changes, it was alive and well and had only been added to by what they just shared. Because she just had to, she leaned in and brushed Jordan’s lips with hers.

“Later it is. For now, we should get some shuteye. I hear the rooster crows early around here.”

Jordan eyed her with amusement. “You sound like one of the Waltons. A very alluring Walton, but still a Walton. And please tell me that was just something to say and that there’s not a rooster in your backyard.”

Molly looked at her quite seriously. “I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.”

“God, I think I have to now.”

“That’s good news,” Molly said and held her gaze.

They snuggled in, limbs tangled, Jordan’s head tucked under Molly’s chin. It was easy between them, the way they fit together. She never would have imagined it could feel this easy.

“Night, John-Boy,” Jordan whispered.

Molly laughed and pulled Jordan in tighter. It wasn’t long before deep, even breathing indicated Jordan had drifted off first.

She was grateful for the quiet moment because she didn’t have the right words to describe what it was she was feeling. As she lay there staring out her window with Jordan asleep in her arms, she watched the moonlight play in the trees and shook her head in wonder.

Something slow and steady was beginning to take root within her and spread out. It was an odd feeling, discovering someone that you’ve known for most of your life.

It was so much more than she’d figured on. She’d expected fun and maybe even the intense chemistry. Instead, she’d been swept away by so much more than all of that. Everything in her had surrendered to Jordan that night.

When her alarm went off at four the next morning, she snuck out from underneath Jordan’s arm, feeling the loss of the warmth against her. As she made her way to the shower, she heard Jordan mumble quietly.

“Not a rooster.”

She smiled and turned back, but Jordan was already fast asleep, her hair across the pillow. She looked peaceful, angelic even. She walked back to the bed and pulled the sheet across her, covering her breasts, tucking her in. The morning air carried a chill after all. It had nothing to do with the unexplained feelings she felt swirling within her.

Nothing at all.

The next morning, Jordan took a tentative sip of the Starbucks latte she knew she shouldn’t be holding. George had picked up coffee for them on what would be his last morning in town, but she could see imaginary Molly glaring at her in the recesses of her mind. The beverage was, quite simply, contraband.

She and George walked up Main Street en route to the library for Jordan to show him the business plan she’d been working on. George had some connections in the venture capital world, and though she had a decent nest egg, it wouldn’t be enough to get the production company up and running without outside financial assistance. They’d worked on films together before and had such a harmonious creative energy that she was thrilled he’d agreed to come on board.

“So how’s the inn working out for you?”

He lit up at the question. “Oh, it’s adorable. Maureen, the innkeeper, will be hosting a tea later. I plan to hit it up before I head back to the city. I don’t know if you heard me, so I’ll say it again. An actual
tea
. And
I’m
invited.” George looked so incredibly excited that Jordan had to laugh.

“She likes to keep things fun over there.”

“Fun doesn’t do it justice. I feel fancy and I love it.”

“Thinking of moving to Applewood, are you?”

He looked thoughtful. “Well, you never know.”

“Whoa. Hold the phone. What does that mean? And there’s a coy little smile on your face. What are you not saying?”

He took a deep breath. “I met someone last night when you ditched me for requisite manual labor.”

“First of all, I told you I had an obligation that I had to keep, and second of all, who did you meet? Seriously, this town is like the size of a shoebox and not exactly overrun with gay men in a conga line down Main Street. Though that could be fun.”

He laughed sardonically. “Shows how much you know.”

They settled onto the bench in front of the library to finish the discussion. “Seriously, Romeo, who?”

His eyes sparkled. “The quiet bartender over at that owl place.”

She laughed. “Please. Little Bobby?”

“That’s him. Unfortunate nickname though, don’t you think?”

“Not gay.”

“Gay.”

“Nope. I’ve known him for years. You couldn’t be more off.”

“Wait and see.”

“Fine. But I’m rarely wrong. And I’m sorry, but I can’t drink this.” She handed him the latte. “I’m on a one-way guilt train to hell if I do.”

George studied her with interest. “Suddenly developed an aversion to your favorite morning pick-me-up? Interesting development.”

She sighed. “Long story. My sister-in-law owns the bakeshop around the corner from here and—”

“That’s who you were with last night, right?”

“Yes. Focus, ADD. We’re talking about Starbucks and how it’s ruining lives.”

“Drastic, but okay. Plus, I’d rather talk about the sister-in-law and why you turned all squirmy when she came up. Go on. Squirm again. I enjoy it.”

Jordan exhaled slowly. “I’m sleeping with her.”

“Duh. But since when does that kind of thing ever get under your gorgeously moisturized skin?”

“Exactly. It’s kind of the ideal situation. Amazing sex. A noticeable lack of strings. My dream scenario, right?

“Right. Perfect.”

She met his eyes. “Except it’s not perfect. It’s not even close.” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall helplessly.

Her mind drifted back to earlier that morning when she’d woken up at Molly’s house. The sun peaked at her through the window and she turned over to meet it, very aware of her body. As details from the night before tumbled back to her, she stretched languidly on and ran her hand across Molly’s pillow.

She knew she should get up and go about her day, but she had to hold on to it just a short while longer, this little bit of wonderful. So she closed her eyes and reveled for a moment, and it felt great.

Finally ready to face the day, she strolled to the bathroom and paused at what she saw sitting there on the dresser. The frame held a simple snapshot that looked as if it were taken on New Year’s Eve. Cassie beamed at the camera while Molly smiled adoringly at Cassie. It was the most natural thing in the world, that photo. But Jordan felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She picked up the wooden frame as if drawn to it by a magnet and ran her thumb gently across her sister’s face. As she stood there, reality came crashing down around her, and she was reminded of just how impractical the circumstances were.