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It had been good between them that night, more than that even. But what would this mean for their already established relationship? And where exactly was it that they were heading? Because quite honestly, she didn’t know. She reminded herself of the bottom line here.

Jordan lived in Chicago.

She was just a kid.

And she was Cassie’s sister , she told herself for the five hundredth time. The facts were against her, no matter how much fun she’d had or how wonderful Jordan felt beneath her touch.

Her thoughts drifted more fully to Cassie, which unleashed so much more on her already delicate psyche. As she sat there, flashes of their life together played across her mind like the images in a film. She saw Cassie’s smile, which radiated, heard her laugh. She relived the first moment she fell in love with Cassie, after the Homecoming football game their sophomore year. The quiet nights they’d spent watching their favorite TV shows together. Popping popcorn for Cubs games. All of it.

Their life together had been everything to Molly. Tears sprang into her eyes right before the first sob tore from her throat. She covered her mouth, but they continued to wrack her body. Relentless.

The guilt, the overwhelming guilt at what she had done, was simply too much.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the air around her. But this time, it felt like there was no one there to forgive her.

Chapter Sixteen

When Jordan woke the next morning, nothing felt the same.

And really how could it? The night before was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face if she’d tried.

As she showered, she recalled each moment she and Molly shared in explicit detail. She couldn’t get past how well they’d fit together. Then there was how hot it had been. But that wasn’t even the best part. With Molly, she’d felt excited and secure all at the same time. It was the most wonderful combination, and she knew it was because they had their friendship, their history to build on.

They still did.

But there’d been a lot unsaid, and it concerned her.

She’d left when she did because she could tell that would make Molly the most comfortable. If there was even a chance of anything between them, and she knew it was slim, it was going to have to be in small steps. She could do small steps. She’d welcome any kind of step where Molly was concerned because she mattered too much to screw this up.

And while there was nothing she wanted more in life than to pick up the phone and call Molly, or even one better, take a little morning trip to the bakeshop, the Molly she knew would require space. Time to process the new level of intimacy between them. And she could give her that. She’d give her whatever she needed.

She studied herself in the mirror, deciding to leave her hair down today. She applied a tad bit of cranberry lip gloss and grabbed her messenger bag. She was due at the clinic for her volunteer shift in ten minutes. She swung open the door and—“Whoa.”

“Hey there, sexy kitten.” George grinned at her like the Cheshire cat he imitated on a regular basis. Her mind scrambled, because he was supposed to be in LA. It was just like him to show up unannounced on the doorstep of her childhood home, but damn it, he was a sight for sore eyes so she hugged him anyway.

“What in the world are you doing here?” she asked as she squeezed him tight.

“I missed you. Plus, you told me I was welcome anytime. It was a lie? You lied to me? What kind of best friend are you?” He feigned shock. Always the drama queen.

“I didn’t lie. You’re welcome here.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “I should hope.”

“Wait, what about my cat? You’re supposed to be taking care of Francis Ford Coppola until I get back.” She took her cat most everywhere with her, but with her dad’s allergies, she’d had to set up a caretaker for the trip.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s so pretentious when you call him that.”

“Fine. Frankie. Where’s Frankie, George?”

“Your next-door neighbor agreed to feed him. I left him the key to your apartment. I hope that’s okay.”

“Seriously? Paul? That guy’s had his eye on my place ever since he moved in. He’s probably taking measurements as he plans my accidental drowning.” She locked the door behind them.

“I wondered about the tape measure.”

She slugged his arm. “Walk with me. We’re going to work.”

“We are? I didn’t know we had a job. I’m moving up in the world.”

They walked to the car. “Don’t get too excited. We work for free.”

“Well, you win some, you lose some.”

“Sing it, sister.”

As they drove through town to the clinic, George whistled low. “When you said Mayberry, you meant it.” He squinted at a woman outside the post office. “Is that Aunt Bea? Oh my lord, I think it’s Aunt Bea. Pull over. Let’s pause and say hi.”

“Stop that. I warned you what it was like here. You gotta admit though, it’s quaint. Not exactly a hipster dwelling, but cozy.”

“It’s more than quaint, Jordy. It’s downright adorable. How have you never brought me home with you before? I could find a nice boy and live here forever.”

“I haven’t been back here in years. This is not news to you.”

He nodded knowingly and then turned to her from the passenger seat, joking forgotten. “And you’ve been okay since you’ve been back?”

And then she understood. He wasn’t here on whimsy, to sightsee in the little-town-that-could. He was genuinely concerned for her and was here to make sure she was all right.

It spoke volumes to Jordan about their friendship. She reached across and scratched the back of his head. “I’m okay, Georgie. I promise.”

He nodded. Sincere moments like this one were rare between them. He then shook himself free of the emotion with an upshift in energy. Typical George. “Good. Because I want you to be. Now take me to work so I can earn my proverbial keep.”

*

It was just past noon and they were just hitting the traditional lunchtime lull at the bakeshop. Molly loved the lull. It gave her a chance to have a cup of coffee and regain her footing. Business would pick up again in about an hour or so, but they generally used the down time to catch up on whatever was running low in the display case and prep more dessert items as they moved away from breakfast pastries.

Molly drizzled some butter over a tray of blackberry pie bars and slid them into the oven. When she turned around, Eden was studying her with unusual focus. She glanced around, self-conscious. “Um, want to tell me why you’re looking at me like I’m your perplexing science project?”

“You’re different.”

Molly moved to the sink to wash her hands, shaking off the declaration. “I’m tired. Is that what you’re picking up on?”

“That could be part of it. Why are you tired, Molly? Tell the kitchen.” She gestured to the empty room.

Molly squinted in confusion. “You’re the only one here.”

“Work with me, sugar. What’s with the relaxed demeanor, the casual swagger, and the extra glow? Did you have sex last night? Is this sexed up Molly? Because I’ve never met her.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but the fact that Eden so had her number precluded any sort of protestation she could come up with. Instead, she stared. Lamely. Because that’s what she apparently did now. Gave in to herself and her every whim.

Eden extended her hand as a slow smile spread across her face. “Nice to meet you. I’m Eden.”

Molly swatted her hand away. “Fine. Yes. There was sex.”

Eden danced in a circle Rocky-style as Molly looked on.

“Are you done? Are you done dancing?”

“Almost.” She danced in a second circle. “Was it as good as you thought it would be? Was it as hot?”