“A hundred,” called Mr. Huskill, her parents’ elderly neighbor. She blew out a breath in relief. This was good. If he won, they’d probably spend the time over a game of chess and some coffee. She decided to root for him. Go, Mr. Huskill. The odds were on her side, as Mikey wouldn’t want to go over a hundred.
But damn it all, in a shocking turn of events, he countered. “One fifty.”
She shot a warning glare at her brother, who was enjoying this way too much. She would pummel him later.
“One seventy-five.” That’s right, Mr. Huskill, take that guy down. You got this.
Mikey lifted his ball cap. “Two hundred. My floor needs some washing with a toothbrush.”
Oh no. He was kidding. He had to be kidding. Seriously, someone had to put a stop to this. But Mr. Huskill wasn’t saying anything. In fact, Mr. Huskill was tragically silent. He was some distance away from Jordan, but she did her best to give him her puppy dog eyes. Anything to keep her out of the hands of her merciless big brother.
“Two twenty-five,” a female voice called out. Jordan swiveled and Summer smiled up at her from a few rows in. This was good. Summer would flirt with her mercilessly, but she’d be kind. She’d be hospitable. There would be no torture or humiliation involved.
“Two twenty-five going once.” Celia surveyed the crowd. “Going twice.” She pointed her gavel at Summer. “Going three times and—”
“Three hundred.” The bid came from the back of the crowd, but Jordan knew without looking. She located Molly, who calmly held Celia’s gaze, at the edge of the lawn. The crowd seemed to enjoy the new development and murmurs of “uh oh” and “Mikey’s got a sidekick” rippled down to the front row. If the town thought Molly was in cahoots with her brother, it made the scenario all the more perfect. But Jordan knew differently and the secret she shared with Molly made things exceptionally alluring.
“Three hundred going once, twice, and sold to one Molly O’Brien. Sorry, Jordan. There’s no telling what lies in store for you.”
She tried her best to look appropriately nervous. “I can hardly wait to find out.”
*
Several hours later and Molly, once again, couldn’t sleep. Instead, she tossed and turned and marinated on the events of the day. There was the fun she’d had at the booth with her coworkers. The fact that they’d sold out of MollyDollys hours in advance of the close of the festival. The unexpected meeting with Grant Tranton that could lead to so much more. And of course, tucked in the middle of all of that had been her interlude with Jordan.
And let’s be honest, she’d surprised even herself with that impulsive bid.
The slash of jealousy that had cut across her at the thought of Summer spending hours of downtime with Jordan took precedence over her more reasonable side. Her bank account couldn’t really take the hit, but she’d figure out the logistics later, which seemed to be how she was operating most of her life these days. Without a net.
She hadn’t seen Jordan after the auction. She’d slipped away on purpose, helping with the last of the booth cleanup before heading for home. The heat between them had been unmistakable that night, and she didn’t want to do something she’d regret later.
Her feelings for Jordan were complicated.
And she’d have to sort them out in due time. But what was wrong with enjoying whatever this was for a little while first? She didn’t consider herself a selfish person, so for once, she’d like to do something just because she wanted to.
One thing was for sure when it came to Jordan. She had a way of creeping into Molly’s thoughts with a persistence unlike any other.
Like now.
Their tryst in the funhouse had rocked her in a way she hadn’t been prepared for, and as she lay there, staring up at the ceiling, her body latched on to the memory of Jordan pressed up against her, all soft and demanding at the same time. She’d worn shorts and a tank top to bed, but as the memory took over, the covers were becoming too much. She threw them off of her and let the cool air move across her skin as her mind continued its very detailed recollection. She closed her eyes and let the movie play on as the rest of her responded with a slow burn. God.
There was a clinking sound.
She turned onto her side, and resumed her daydream, chalking it up to her aging house.
But there was that sound again.
Clink.
She sat up and surveyed the window in confusion. It wasn’t raining was it? It didn’t sound like rain.
Clink. Clink.
She moved to the window, just in time to see something fly up and hit the glass. What in the world? She peered down and her mouth fell open when she saw the culprit. It took her only a moment to lift the window and hang her head out. Jordan stood beneath with the wind in her hair. For a moment she just stared, because it was a breathtaking image. “What are you doing?” she finally whispered.
“Just making sure you got home okay,” Jordan whispered back. She was smiling and Molly couldn’t help but smile back.
“I did. Look. Here I am.” She rested her chin in her hand. “It’s after midnight, you know.”
“I know. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to say good night.”
Molly stared at Jordan, the air around them heavy. She made a decision. “I’ll come down.” She closed the window, considered putting on a robe, but decided against it. She descended the stairs and opened the door.
And there she was.
Blue eyes, full lips, glossy, windblown hair. But it was the way Jordan was looking at her that stole her breath and sent the ripple of longing through her. Her body responded noticeably, as if Jordan had already touched her. What happened next was clear to her.
They moved to each other at the exact same time, their mouths colliding, no preamble needed. It was hot, bewildering, and hazy. Molly slid her hands into Jordan’s hair, holding her in place as her lips and tongue began to explore. Somehow, they stumbled inside and that was good. That’s what she wanted.
Jordan kissed her back like she was starving, but Molly was right there with her. Kissing, tasting, reveling. Then hands got into the fray. Jordan grasped her waist and lifted Molly onto the small entryway table. Her palms moved up Molly’s ribcage to the outsides of her breasts. There was a moan. Hers.
“God, you’re sexy,” Jordan murmured into her skin.
The adjective stopped Molly short because no one had ever used that word to describe her before. Girl next door, maybe. Cute or pretty, on occasion.
But not sexy.
“Something wrong?” Jordan breathed, pulling back and studying her face.
She shook her head. “Just the opposite.” And she captured Jordan’s mouth in a searing kiss, encouraged in a way she couldn’t quite explain. She felt confidence for days and it was liberating.
Jordan’s lips found her neck, her ear, and circled back to her lips again. God, it felt good, but she wanted more. She wanted things she couldn’t even name and she wanted them now. Their pace was fast and that was okay too. Once the fire between them took hold, she wasn’t sure it could be any other way.
Molly pulled her lips from Jordan’s just long enough to unbutton Jordan’s shirt and free her of it. She dipped her head to kiss the tops of breasts peeking out from the black bra. Sensing Molly’s need, Jordan reached behind and unclasped the bra, letting it fall to the floor. Molly sighed in deep appreciation then, because Jordan was that exquisite. She didn’t have the luxury of dwelling, however, and settled her mouth first on one breast and then the other, giving each the much-deserved attention until Jordan was writhing beneath her touch.
“Upstairs,” she breathed, helping Molly off of the table.
She nodded wordlessly and pulled Jordan by the hand up the stairs. When they hit the top step, they fell together again, kissing and stumbling their way into the bedroom where they landed at the foot of Molly’s bed.