How Sweet It Is (11 page)

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Authors: Melissa Brayden

BOOK: How Sweet It Is
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That’s when hands began to move.

Jordan’s were first and settled on the small of her back before slipping under her T-shirt to the skin beneath. Her insides fluttered at the contact and she felt herself pushing desperately against Jordan’s stomach as the aching escalated. All the while, her mouth savored every moment of the tantalizing kiss. The flash of desire was staggering and her hands drifted from Jordan’s face, to her neck, down her collarbone to her breasts. At the briefest of touch, Jordan took in air, pulling her mouth away. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes unfocused. “Wait a second, Mol. Wait.”

And it all came crashing down.

At the sound of Jordan’s voice, reality infused Molly’s conscious thought and she tumbled back to the land of the present, the land of rational, and the land of what the hell? “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What just happened?” She moved off of Jordan and backed away as if she’d been burned. She ran her fingers through her hair because she didn’t quite know what else to do to erase the past three minutes. But somehow she had to erase them.

Jordan watched her from the couch. “Calm down. It’s okay.”

“It’s
not
okay. It’s not okay at all. You’re Cassie’s sister. You’re Jordan, who’s like ten years old. You’re a child.”

“I haven’t been ten in a long time. We’re both adults, Molly.”

“You have to go.”

Jordan stood and held up her hands. “Okay. I’ll go. But please don’t blow this out of proportion. Nothing unrecoverable happened here. We kissed. It happens.”

“And it was a mistake.” God, it was a mistake. What had she been thinking? What was wrong with her?

Jordan stared at her for a beat and then nodded once, her expression unreadable. “We’ll just pretend this didn’t happen then.”

“Exactly. Because it
never
should have.” She crossed her arms in front of her defensively and watched as Jordan made her way silently to the door. Alone in her living room, she sank in the chair as a multitude of self-recriminations surfaced and swirled.

She’d acted impulsively. She’d betrayed Cassie with her sister. She’d forever ruined her friendship with Jordan. And God, for a very brief time, she’d enjoyed it.

That was the part that upset her most of all.

Chapter Eight
 

“What does a man have to do to get his coffee made to his liking?” Mr. Jeffries held his cup across the counter, just shy of Molly’s chin. She took a breath because, man, she was not in the mood for him this morning. Channeling her inner Donna Reed, she forced a polite smile.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeffries. What exactly is wrong with your coffee?”

“Only one sweetener. I take two packets in my coffee. Everyone knows that.”

This was true. She’d made his coffee every day for as long as she could remember, and she’d never once screwed up. But having not slept at all the night prior had her grappling for focus. “Sorry about that. But in good news, it’s easily remedied.” She took his cup and added the additional packet of sweetener. “Here you go. And tomorrow’s is on the house.”

“Well, it’s the least you could do. Don’t you think?” He shook his head in disgust and walked back to his favorite table. “Of all things,” he muttered angrily to himself. Twenty minutes later, Mr. Jeffries placed his hat on his head and took off for home, leaving the place customer free. Molly slid into a booth and rested her cheek in her hand.

“You okay, sugar?” Eden wiped down the now vacant table. “You look a little glazed over.”

Molly couldn’t disagree. It’d been a rough twelve hours. She’d played back the night prior with Jordan a hundred times and still had very little understanding of how it could have happened. Those thoughts had kept her tossing and turning until it was time to head into work. Now, in desperation, she decided to seize the opportunity to talk it out. “Could we chat a minute in the kitchen?”

“You bet we can. Louise, sweetie, will you watch the counter for me?”

Louise didn’t even glance up from the Pennysaver. “On it.”

Once safely behind the swinging door, Molly pushed herself up onto the counter and stared hard at Eden. “Have you ever done something that you’d give anything to take back?”

A smile spread across her face. “Oh, I think I’m gonna like this.”

Molly exhaled impatiently. “Shut up and focus. This is hardcore serious. Have you?”

Eden thought for a moment. “Sure, sweetheart. Of course I have. Let’s see. I wish I’d never married Carl, the two-timing idiot from Oklahoma who stole my Chevy in the middle of the night.”

Molly shook her head slowly. “I don’t even know what to say to that. I think your life is a perpetual country music song.”

“Call it whatever you will, but the cops caught up with him in Tuscaloosa and threw his sorry ass in jail. Wonder which one of us is crying now?”

“Again, just further proving my point.”

Eden winked and slid herself up onto the counter across from Molly. “I guess you’re right. Now you. What horrible thing do you regret doing?”

“Okay, but if I tell you this, it cannot leave this room. You have a tendency to share things with the free world, and while I love you anyway, this cannot be one of those things. Do you understand me, Eden Young? Top secret.”

Eden seemed to sober at the serious tone in Molly’s voice. “Of course, darlin’. You have my word. This stays between us.”

Molly stared at the floor. “I kissed Jordan last night. Well, technically she kissed me, but then I made it worse and there was lots more kissing.”

Eden’s eyes were wide when Molly looked up and her mouth fell slowly open. “Well, color me impressed. Little Molly Hot Pants.”

Molly pushed herself off of the counter and moved to Eden in a rush. “No, uh-uh. Don’t say that. There can be no glorification in what happened.”

Eden seemed confused. “So it was bad? The kissing?”

“No, that’s not what we’re talking about. I’m a horrible person. That’s the main idea here. She’s Cassie’s little sister, Eden. A cosmic rule has been broken here. You don’t kiss the sister. Ever.”

“What if the sister is wildly attractive? Is there a clause for that?”

“Irrelevant.”

Eden stared at her, clearly confused. “Let me make sure I understand. It’s not that you don’t like Jordan; it’s that she’s related to Cassie. Did Cassie hate Jordan or something?”

“What? No, of course not. It just feels wrong, what happened. And I don’t know how to fix it. Tell me you know how. I need guidance here.”

“I don’t know that you
need
to fix it. Little sister is hot and Cassie would want you to be happy. Maybe this little spark is something worth exploring.”

Molly couldn’t believe the lunacy of what she was hearing. “You’re crazy. Absolutely zero chance of that happening. But I can’t avoid her forever and I don’t want to. We have fun together, and things feel, I don’t know, better since she’s been home. A lot.”

“Well, then you’re going to have to be a big girl about this. Face her head on. Talk about what happened and get it out there on the table. Take the bull by the horns.”

Molly nodded, marinating on the advice. “Take the bull by the horns. Got it. I just have to summon my courage and face her. Put everything on the table and get things back to normal.”

“Or put
her
on the table and—”

“Eden!” Molly shouted, appalled.

The door opened and Louise held a ticket in the air. “Delivery called in for the clinic’s staff meeting. Two dozen bombshell brownies. Damon should be back from the high school drop-off soon.”

“Um, that’s okay.” Molly grabbed the ticket from Louise nonchalantly. “I can deliver this one.”

“That-a-girl,” Eden said. “By the horns.”

She nodded and rolled her shoulders, warrior style.

She could do this. It didn’t have to be that big a deal. She’d seen
Days of Our Lives
. People kissed all the time. She’d survive this.

 

*

 

It took a certain amount of patience to work in the medical profession, and it consistently amazed Jordan how her family was able to do it. That morning alone, they’d treated upward of twenty-five patients with appointments, and another eight walk-ins. And instead of scooping up their prescription and heading out, they all wanted to chat about their week, their son, their wife, or how many football games the high school was on track to win this year.

Not only was it exhausting, it was starting to back up the schedule Jordan was put in charge of monitoring. She’d decided that while she was in town she would help out at the clinic as much as possible, and with a missing receptionist, she saw her opportunity. She could hang at the clinic for a few hours each day. She’d missed her family, and this was a great way to maybe reconnect, make up for the time she’d stayed away. So she was a rather successful producer in the film industry, she wasn’t above answering a few phones for the dueling doctors.

“What’s up, tiger?” Mikey asked, after saying good-bye to his latest patient. He pulled her ear as he passed behind the desk. Her brother practiced at a medical group in Andersville, but devoted two days a week to working in their parents’ clinic. Good thing too, as having a third doctor in-house helped alleviate some of the pressure on their parents. Mikey was a good guy that way.

“Ow. Leave my ears alone.”

“No way. As your brother, it’s my job in life to tug on your ears. What’s up next?” He leaned on the counter as Jordan consulted the computerized appointment book.

“You have Mrs. Fitzsimmons’ sore throat at noon and then the staff meeting after lunch. That’s when I make my crafty getaway. Jackson can take the desk.”

“What? You don’t want to hang out for clinic policies and procedures?”

“Sounds riveting, but I’m a volunteer. This right here”—she gestured to the room around her—“is out of the goodness of my heart.”

“So benevolent.”

Jordan grinned proudly. “Get it while you can.”

The bell above the door rang and they turned. Jordan expected to see yet another patient or maybe Damon with the delivery they’d called in for the staff meeting. But she was wrong.

Molly’s eyes held hers only briefly before fluttering to Mikey. “Hey, you two. What’s with all the standing around? Shouldn’t there be some work getting done around here?” She smiled at them, but it didn’t quite take over her face the way Molly’s smiles usually did.

When Jordan had left Molly’s house the night before, she’d walked the neighborhood, working through the sequence of events. As many times as she’d imagined kissing Molly, the reality of it, of her, had been so much more than she’d ever planned on. She didn’t know what had come over her and caused her to actually act on her impulse, but she did know that as their lips met, all bets seemed off.

Everything had faded away except for the sharp need that left her wonderfully breathless. She could still feel what it was like to have Molly’s lips on hers, the weight of her on her lap, the intoxicating scent of the raspberry shampoo she used.

The exchange had rocked her. And though it had ended horribly, she couldn’t quite get past the fact that for a few precious moments, Molly had kissed her back. In even more impressive news, she was probably the world’s best kisser.

But as she’d walked on, she’d remembered Molly’s words and the conviction with which she’d said them.
“It’s not okay. You’re Cassie’s sister.”
And no matter how exciting those few moments had been, she could never change the facts in the scenario. Molly couldn’t see her for who she was, only her connection to Cassie.

Mikey moved to Molly and kissed her cheek with a loud smack. “What is this? Have we moved up in the world? Since when does the esteemed owner of Flour Child personally deliver to little old us?”

“I make exceptions for special people.” She handed him the pink box of brownies. “Out of the oven ten minutes ago. Still warm and amazing.”

“You’re my favorite sister-in-law. Have I told you that?”

“First time today.”

“Then I’m slacking.” He inclined his head to the break room. “I’ll drop these off on my way to catch up on my charts. Thanks, Molly.”

“No problem.”

And they were alone.

Molly eyed her a moment. There was that slight smile again. “So, hey. How are you this morning, Jordan? I trust you’re well.”

I trust you’re well?
Were they now characters in a Jane Austen novel and she’d failed to be notified? Since when did they speak so formally to each other? Oh, this didn’t bode well. “I’m fine. Just a little worried about the fact that you’re talking to me like we’re at high tea.”

Molly exhaled and shook her head. “I know. That was weird. Agreed. But I don’t want to be weird. Listen, Jordan, I don’t know how we wound up…”

“Making out on the couch,” Jordan supplied, when it was clear Molly couldn’t actually say the words.

She winced. “Right. God. I don’t know how that happened. Trust me, I fully accept my share of the blame, but I think we can both agree that it was a really bad idea.” Jordan nodded because she could tell it was what Molly needed. “And the last thing in the world that I want is for things to be awkward between us. We’re important to each other and I need that.”

“I promise, nothing has to be weird. It’s just me. Same old Jordan.”

Molly held her gaze steadily and Jordan watched as those caramel eyes slowly softened. “Yeah, it is.” The moment lingered, and no one said anything until Molly seemed to shake herself out of whatever trance had wrapped around them. “So we’re okay, then? Business as usual?”

Jordan lifted a shoulder and regarded her seriously. “Unless you plan to renege on our baked goods arrangement. Then we have problems.”

Massive relief washed across Molly’s face. “No, I think I can come through on that one. Oh, and come by the bakeshop tomorrow. I want you to try something.”

“You’re on.”

It was still there, Jordan noted. That crackle between them that had emerged so aggressively the night before, was still simmering just below the surface. She would ignore it if that’s what Molly wanted, but that didn’t make it any less real.

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