How Sweet It Is (28 page)

Molly turned to her. “That man adores you, Lou. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Well, he should try smiling once in a while. You know, prove he has teeth. You never know at his age.”

Eden laughed. “Tall order for that man.”

Molly and Eden went back to their respective projects, brownies and croissants, working in quiet tandem.

Eden shot her a look across the island. “You hangin’ in there, sugar?”

She glanced up. “Sure. I’m getting by.”

Eden leaned her hip against the counter and folded her arms. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“Who?” It was a lame attempt to sidestep a conversation that would make her think about Jordan, because when she thought about Jordan, all she did was think about Jordan, so she rationed it out in small doses. The truth of it was she missed her more than she would have thought possible.

“Don’t play dumb with me, missy. You’ve fallen for her and we all know it. It’s written all over your pretty little face when you get all daydreamy and smile at nothing.”

“I do miss her. A lot, actually.”

Eden’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “So you’re in this for real? Inching toward the big L-O-V-E? White picket fence and all?”

And there was that hesitation. As much as she was feeling for Jordan, there were obstacles holding her back when she considered anything too permanent. Because there was the bigger picture to consider. Among other issues, there were the Tuscanas, who would hate the idea of she and Jordan together by design. And the concept of losing them was almost too much to think about. They were the only family she had outside of her father. It would crush her if they were no longer a part of her life. And what if she devastated them with this relationship, and she and Jordan didn’t work out in the end. The risk was exponential and she wasn’t generally a risk taker.

“I think love is a lofty word.”

“Okay, so you’re playing it conservative. I can get behind that. But it’s good? Things are progressing?”

“They are, and most of the time I’m incredibly happy about that. But it’s different. She’s…different.” Molly slid the brownies into the oven and pushed herself up onto the counter.

“And that’s a problem?”

“It’s…” She hesitated, not knowing quite how to explain the thoughts that had her consumed with guilt for the past couple of days. “It’s a problem for me, I guess. Yeah.”

Eden narrowed her eyes, trying to understand. “Wait. So you’re comparing her to her sister?”

Molly took a moment and nodded. “I wish I didn’t, but yeah. And when I do compare them, I feel horrible. Hence, the problem.”

Eden took a breath. “You’re gonna have to decode this one for me.”

Molly sat up straighter thinking of another way to explain. “Cassie was goal oriented, dependable, and sweet, but fairly serious. Jordan is funny, wild, and unpredictable. She’s the life of every room she’s in. Sometimes it’s hard to believe they’re even sisters.”

“Still not sensing a problem.”

“There’s more.” And here we go. “With Cassie, things were sweet. They were comfortable, right where you’d want them to be.”

“And with Jordan?”

She shook her head slowly. “We click in a way I’ve never experienced. It’s like this thing that overtakes me when I’m around her. I just want to talk to her, laugh with her, stare at her all the time. It’s a lot to take in in a really wonderful way.”

“Different is okay, Molly.”

“Different
is
okay. But what if it’s more?
More
doesn’t feel okay.”

Eden’s face softened as realization struck. She moved to her quickly, taking Molly gently by the shoulders and rubbing her hands up and down. “Oh, sweetie. You’re worried that you fit better with Jordan than you fit with Cassie? You can’t do that to yourself. You can’t beat yourself up for what you feel. That’s not something you’re in control of. I get that you don’t want to betray Cassie’s memory, but that’s not what’s happening here. You have to move on with your life and forgive yourself for what’s happening between you and Jordan, no matter how strong your feelings are.”

Molly raised her gaze to Eden, her voice laced with fear. “I don’t know if I can.”

*

It was the end of the day Wednesday and Jordan flopped onto her couch and turned on a little jazz to take the edge off her aching neck muscles. She’d spent the day researching office space and pricing equipment, and now her brain felt fuzzy, and really, who could blame it?

In some ways, Jordan was happy to be home. It felt good to see the familiar walls of her downtown apartment and scratch Frankie under his chin again. He still hadn’t totally forgiven her for leaving, but they were baby-stepping their way back to a respectable cat-human relationship. She fawned over him and he acted like he could perhaps put up with it. It was a start.

The meeting with the investors had gone well and after taking a look at some proposed projects and a reel of Jordan’s work, it seemed they had a tentative deal. And that meant cash. This production company was actually going to happen and there was a lot to be done.

But she had to hand it to herself. It’d been a productive month. She’d figured out her next career move, something she had a true passion for, and had even reconnected with her family. Yet, for the past week, her life felt incomplete and she knew why. Molly wasn’t there, and that made everything seem a little less vibrant.

She wanted the vibrant back.

It was a problem she didn’t see going away easily, if ever. But the space between them this past week had offered her perspective. She knew what she wanted one hundred percent, and it was Molly. And though that didn’t exactly come in a nice neat little package, she no longer cared. How brave was that?

She slid a look to the digital clock on the microwave and her heart did a little leap of excitement, acrobatic heart that it was these days. Three minutes until the phone date she and Molly had scheduled earlier in the week. She’d been looking forward to it all day. She stood for a quick second and checked herself in the mirror, which was ridiculous because it was a phone call. But then there seemed to be a lot of ridiculous lately.

“What?” she asked Frankie, who only yawned in cat judgment. “You haven’t met her. You have no basis on which to weigh in.” He looked at the wall in boredom.

She and Molly had exchanged a couple of phone calls and a few scattered text messages since she’d been home, but it had fallen drastically short of satisfaction for her. While on one hand, they’d both been busy, on the other, they were both probably a little cautious about the relationship. But as the days sans Molly added up, she felt her cautious side slipping away more and more.

The phone in her pocket started to vibrate. Right on time. She felt the smile on her face take shape and grow. “Hey, you.”

Molly sighed into the phone. “So it’s really nice to hear your voice.”

“It is?” Jordan got up and walked to her kitchen table because the zip of energy talking to Molly gave her required movement.

“You have no idea.”

“How was your day? Give me the scoop.”

“Five trays of blueberry muffins, a hundred million MollyDollys, three fancy birthday cakes, and that was just my morning. Now a segue. When do I see you exactly? Because that’s what I’d like to focus on.”

Jordan grinned into the phone. “I like that you announce your segues. Not enough people do that. And three days from now. I thought I’d come a couple of hours before the party to help out. My mom would like that.”

“I would like that.”

“All the more reason.”

“How’s Chicago?”

“Busy. I feel like I haven’t stopped since I’ve been home. But the deal’s in place. It’s time to start putting plans in motion for my first project, which I think might be an extension of the short film I did in college about the suicide forest in Japan. Do you remember that one? It would be a more full-length version now that I have the means.”

Molly took in air. “I loved that film. It was absolutely chilling. That’s when I knew that you were gifted at this, when you could elicit that kind of response in me.”

The compliment resonated, and she took a minute to let it wash over her. No one from back home had showed that much interest in her college work. Her family had definitely downplayed it, probably afraid to encourage her too much in that direction. “Thanks. That film meant a lot to me when I made it. One of the reasons I want to make more like it.”

“And you will.” A pause. “So as we talk, I’m trying to picture you at your place, all urban and ultra cool. What’s it like? A person’s home says a lot about them, you know?”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure. Not sure I want to tell you now.”

“Then don’t. Let me give it a shot. Okay, so I’m imagining brick walls in the living room, steel lighting fixtures in a rather open kitchen, and then a large bedroom with not a lot of furniture. You’re kind of a minimalistic kind of girl.”

Whoa. It was shockingly accurate. “Um. Yeah. Except the bedroom is pretty standard size. Other than that, you’re spot on. How exactly did you do that?” She glanced around curiously for the hidden cameras.

“I just thought about you and what you like.”

“Impressive, and I mean that genuinely.”

“Well, if I remember correctly, you’re really good at knowing what I like.”

Heat flooded her face and she wandered aimlessly back into the living room. “You’re too far away for a line like that. You’ll keep me up all night thinking about it.”

Molly chuckled quietly. “I was referencing chicken salad and romantic comedies, but we can talk about the other things I like, you know, if you want to.”

The insinuation made her stomach tighten reflexively as memories of their most recent night together flashed across her mind. Plus, there was the fact that she just loved Molly’s voice. She loved it even more when she dropped her tone and sounded super sexy, which was in complete contrast to her everyday good girl persona. It was thrilling to say the least.

She sighed deeply. “Exactly how many more hours until I see you again?”

By late in the afternoon on Friday, Molly’s kitchen looked like a confection tornado had blown through it. And why shouldn’t it? She’d spent the entire day at home, baking away in preparation for her father-in-law’s birthday party the following day. She left Flour Child in Eden’s trustworthy hands in the meantime and only called in to check on things three times. She was working on easing her status as control freak when it came to the bakeshop she loved so dearly.

She let out a breath and surveyed her work. There were plates full of a half dozen different flavors of truffles. Oversized white chocolate dipped pretzels dried on the rack next to coconut macaroons, which were hanging out with a platter of giant chocolate chip cookies. Now those had come out nicely. And the pièce de résistance, the chocolate marble birthday cake, was baking snugly in the oven. Or at least the third layer of it was.

No one at this birthday party was going to find the dessert table lacking in any capacity. Fully aware of the reputation she planned to live up to, she had conquered sugar township and all the surrounding territories.

To accompany her efforts, she’d put on some sultry blues from her iPod, and the tunes inspired her to sway her hips ever so slightly. And to reward her hard work, she celebrated with a glass of Tempranillo, her new favorite red wine blend. It was true she still had the chocolate covered strawberries to make, followed by some clean up, but she allowed herself a few minutes to revel in her success.

“Check it out, Rover.” She indicated the stash of goodies with a tilt of her head. “Bet you couldn’t have done all of that.” He continued to swim laps. She raised a shoulder. “Well, you couldn’t.”

She slid a glance at the clock. It was a little past four o’clock, and if her calculations were correct, Damon should be finishing up his other deliveries and would be by soon with the apple caramel shots Louise had prepared for the party. She would need to make room in the refrigerator in her garage if she wanted to—

The sound of the doorbell stopped her mid thought. Perfect. Right on time.

She swung the door open to the tray of small shot glasses, but as she raised her gaze, her breath caught. Because it was Jordan who stood there, offering the most welcome smile in history. Her hair was pulled into a stylish ponytail that looked the perfect addition to her slim fitting jeans and the dark red thermal top. “Delivery,” she said with a little tilt of her head.

Molly’s mouth fell open and her heart stuttered in her chest. Because it really was the most fantastic surprise ever. They stood there smiling at each other stupidly before Molly found her voice. “How did you—What are you doing here?”

“Bringing you these.” She glanced down at the tray. “Whatever these are.”

She took the tray from Jordan. “Caramel apple shots. Now get in here right now so I can make a big deal out of you.”

“I’ve always liked attention.”

Molly followed Jordan into the house, her insides doing a happy dance at this latest development. She set the tray on the counter and turned in time to find herself pulled into Jordan’s arms for a scorching kiss. She was grateful Jordan had a firm hold on her because her knees just about went to Jell-O.

“Sorry. I’ve been waiting to do that all week.”

“True story?” Molly murmured against her mouth, going in for more.

“Mhmm,” she said. “And worth the wait.”

Molly tilted her head and studied Jordan. “But really, how is it that you’re here right now? Explain yourself.”

“I pulled a couple of all-nighters and made a satisfactory dent in the planning for the company, which I should tell you has a name now.”

“And you’re just now mentioning this? You should have called with news like that. What is it?”

“Journey Production Group. Because essentially, that’s what this whole thing has been for me, a journey. And these last two months have been what I hope is just the beginning.”

Molly nodded as she took it in, understanding the meaning. “I love it, Jordan. I really do.”