“I see you,” she said quietly. “Believe me. I do.” Her thumb stroked Jordan’s cheek gently as she lowered herself back onto her heels again. Molly let her go and took a step backward. “Good night, Jordan.” She turned, not waiting for an answer.
Struck, amazed, and mesmerized by what had just taken place, Jordan stood there motionless, rooted firmly to the cement of the driveway. She watched Molly let herself into the house, and once the kitchen light glowed brightly through the window, she floated ever so slowly back to Earth. With her hand now touching her still swollen lips, she relived the kiss she would be up all night thinking about. Because it was the kind of kiss you didn’t forget. It was the kiss you compared all other kisses to for the rest of your adult life. The kind that left you wanting so much more, yet satisfied you immensely at the same damn time. If that was even a real possibility. But where Molly was concerned, she was beginning to understand that there was no limit to what she didn’t know.
It was with a slight smile on her lips that she climbed back into the car and headed for home in the wee hours of the morning.
Chapter Fourteen
There was something about the April Showers Festival that made the word feel infinitely more exciting. Perhaps it was the fact that the whole town came together in celebration. Or maybe it was the cover bands that played in rotation on the stage at the back of the fairgrounds, the ones that made Molly want to dance the whole time she was there. Or even more likely, it was the amazing food booths that she took pleasure in hopping between, sampling all the sinfully wonderful options. Whatever it was, she looked forward to it all year, even if it meant a ton of work for the bakeshop.
As was tradition, Flour Child had a small but dignified booth at the center of the concessions section. This year, they were selling caramel apple wassail, white chocolate macadamia nut cookies and, of course, MollyDollys. The truffles were making their grand debut that afternoon. And after only being open an hour, the booth was already picking up buzz.
“I’ll take a half dozen of the truffle thingies named after you,” said Mrs. Welch, Molly’s elderly neighbor from two doors down. “The ladies from my bridge club said I had to come try them out, and I always listen to them.”
“Coming right up.” Molly handed the chocolate to Mrs. Welch in their customary wax paper bag with the bakeshop’s name stenciled along the bottom. “Let me know what you think, and if you like them, tell your friends.”
But before she could move on to the next customer in line, Mrs. Welch bit right into one and grinned. “Amazing,” she breathed. “Don’t worry, Molly. I’ll tell everyone I know.” She looked down at the truffle in her hand, shook her head in wonder, and headed off with her remaining chocolates. Another satisfied customer.
“Sugar, you think we made enough of these things? We’re an hour in and already hitting our stash pretty hard.”
“No worries. There are more at the shop.” She grinned triumphantly, and though it was still early, that’s kind of how she felt. Triumphant. Bold. She was taking control of her life lately and if felt good.
Eden slung an arm around Molly’s shoulders. “My, my. It seems our fearless leader has thought of everything. When bonehead gets here, we can send him back for more inventory.”
“Eden, can we maybe not call Damon a bonehead? He’s a member of our staff and just as deserving of respect as the rest of us.”
“If you say so. And out of loyalty to you, I will try not to call the bonehead a bonehead.”
“Thanks for going out of your way.”
Eden placed a big smacking kiss on her cheek. “Anytime.”
As the hours rolled by, the bright blue sky dimmed and made way for the twinkling of stars. The crowds increased exponentially as did the line at the Flour Child booth. In good news, her shift was almost over and she could head out into the world to enjoy the festival. The carnival rides were now lit up with neon, and as she handed Mr. Walker his change, she stared at the towering Ferris wheel in the distance. Her nemesis.
The great big circle of terror.
Satan’s bicycle wheel.
The symbol of all her fears rolled into one.
Saying she was afraid of heights was an understatement. And after a widely witnessed freak-out on the ride when she was twelve years old, she steered clear of the thing. Even the sight of it sent a terrifying shiver through her. Every once in a while, she’d start to feel a little courageous and wonder if she could ever give it another go. You know, conquer that fear once and for all. But the answer was always no, she’d decide most matter-of-factly. She could not. Her fear of heights and rides and all things scary was just something she’d have to live with.
“Hey, proud business owner.”
Molly shot a look over her right shoulder and found Jordan leaning over the side of the booth. Her hair was swept partially back and she looked incredibly fresh faced and vibrant. This time a shiver moved through her for an entirely different reason.
They hadn’t seen each other since the kiss in the driveway. The kiss she’d initiated in one of the most daring moments of her entire life. The thing was, the kiss they’d shared that first time in her living room had been great. No, more than great. But the second kiss had completely devastated the first one. How? She wasn’t quite sure. It was a mystery—as was the fact that she forgot the rest of the world existed when Jordan’s lips were on hers. She didn’t know exactly where they stood, but a door was definitely standing open. It was just a matter of whether she chose to walk through it. And she had a feeling she’d know the answer by the time the night was over. “Hey, you. Enjoying yourself?”
Jordan grinned whimsically. “You have no idea. I’ve been here an hour and barely scraped the surface. Done soon? There’s festivating to partake in.”
“Festivating?” Molly arched an eyebrow.
“Festivating. Don’t look at me like that. It’s a word.”
“Give me five minutes.”
“Okay. Meet me at the bandstand?”
Molly considered this. “Only if you have a cold beer waiting for me. I’m working pretty hard here.” She offered up a pathetic facial expression for effect.
“I’ll see what I can rustle up.” And she was off, with Molly watching in appreciation as she walked away.
“You should take a picture. Lasts longer,” Eden whispered in her ear.
“What are you, seven? I haven’t heard anyone say that since elementary school.”
“What can I say? I like the classics.” Eden gestured in Jordan’s direction with her chin. “You hittin’ that yet?”
“Excuse me?” Molly said, shocked, but okay, not entirely. It was Eden. Molly took off her apron and handed it to Louise, who was taking over for her, and headed to the booth’s staging area.
Eden followed, close on her heels. “Don’t play innocent with me, Miss Molly. You have blatant lust scrawled across your forehead in giant red letters.”
Molly decided to drop the lame protestations. It’s not like Eden was wrong. “Okay, the blatant lust exists, yes. But blatant lust is not always smart lust, you know? Does lust have to be smart or can it just be fun? Fun lust.” She took a deep breath. “What do I do here?”
Eden stared at her as if trying to work a difficult puzzle. “What do you want to do here?”
“Hit that.”
Eden laughed loudly and pulled Molly into a hug. “I love you. And let’s be clear. Fun lust is not a crime and you could definitely use some fun. Get outta here and enjoy your night. I think you’re in good shape. Please do everything and anything that I would and that’s an order.”