“Oh God, I don’t think I can—”
“Yes, you can,” Jordan whispered in her ear. “Hold on for me.” She stared into her eyes, and the vulnerability there staggered her. With nothing standing between them now, it was easily the most intimate experience of her life.
She rolled herself more fully on top and slid her hands down Molly’s sides, cupping her hips and holding them in place as she pressed against her firmly. Molly whimpered quietly and closed her eyes. “More,” was all she managed. But more she could do. She began to move her hips against Molly slowly in small circles. And though Molly attempted to increase their rhythm, Jordan held her in place, maintaining control. Finally, she reached a hand between them and slid into Molly, her hips picking up pace against her hand until Molly called out and shuddered against her in the most gorgeous display. Her lips parted, her hair fanned out across the pillow, Jordan made a point to memorize the image.
She kissed her neck softly and smoothed the hair from her forehead as her breathing slowed once again.
“Jordan?
“Yeah?”
Molly cradled her face in her hands and shook her head. “You undo me every time. You know that?”
“I think we undo each other.” She kissed her cheek softly.
They made love again that night, waking up and finding each other. The touches were somehow softer with the understanding of what they meant, what they promised. It was a night Jordan would never forget. Because it wasn’t about the moment at hand. It was about forever.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The sun was up early and streaming through the window, but Molly let herself sleep until seven.
Louise had opened up shop on what would be Flour Child’s last day. Molly had scheduled herself for eight, knowing she’d have to stay late into the night to finish the last of the packing. She had to hand over the keys to the bank the next day.
“Are you going to be okay?” Jordan asked from the kitchen table where she nursed a cup of coffee in her jeans and T-shirt. She’d gotten up with Molly and seemed to be lingering close for moral support. It was sweet.
Molly attempted a smile, but it was weighted with sadness. “It’ll be a rough day. The roughest. But if I have you waiting for me, I’m going to get through this. I feel like I have a lot to look forward to and I have to concentrate on that.”
“You do.” Jordan held out her hand, and Molly crossed the distance between them and allowed herself to be pulled into Jordan’s lap. “So, there’s a thing.”
“A thing? You should probably elaborate.”
“George is moving to Applewood.” Molly raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “We’ll get to why later. But the point is, he’s now planning to commute to Chicago. To me. So we could work together. But if I were to move to Applewood, that wouldn’t exactly be necessary. I mean we’d still have to go into the city for meetings, and of course on location for shooting. But if our office home base was here—”
She didn’t get to finish because Molly’s lips silenced her in a celebratory kiss. “Yes,” she said to Jordan when they came up for air. “That sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard. Did you hear me say yes? ’Cause I can say it louder. Yes!” she called out loudly to the room as Jordan laughed.
“I can get an apartment or…”
Molly took the leap. “Or you could move in with me.”
A beat. “Really?” Jordan asked in a hopeful voice. She also looked especially adorable.
Molly looked down at her. “Uh-huh.. But if you’re gonna move in, there’ll have to be conditions.”
Jordan grinned. “Conditions?”
“Oh yeah,” Molly said quite seriously. “You’ll need to pull your share of the handiwork around this place.”
“Which would be?”
“Well, all of it. While wearing jeans and a tank top. That’s also a condition by the way, because there will be lots of objectification.”
“I love it when you objectify me.”
“And I’ll need to interview this cat of yours, Frankie, is it?”
“Francis Ford Coppola until you get to know him better.”
“Pretentious.”
“He totally can be, yeah.”
Molly sighed happily. “So it’s settled. You, me, a cat, and a fish in the blue house.”
“How can you beat it?”
“Who would even try?” Molly murmured as she went in for another kiss.
That’s when Jordan’s phone buzzed. She checked the readout and took the call. “Hey, Bobby. I’ll be over in just a bit.”
She stared at Molly questioningly. “Yeah, she’s right here. What’s up?” Molly watched Jordan curiously, finally tilting her head to the side in question. Jordan took her hand in reassurance and smiled. “Okay, we can leave now.”
“What?” Molly asked as she hung up. “Is everything okay?”
“I think so. But Bobby says we need to get over to Flour Child now.”
Molly’s mind raced with a million possible problems. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”
“Let’s not wonder. Let’s go find out.” Jordan took her hand and they headed out.
*
Molly heard them before she saw them.
As they rounded the corner to Main Street, the sight before them stopped her cold. There were people, throngs of them, hundreds in fact, gathered in front of the bakeshop. Some were carrying signs depicting the Starbucks logo with a line through it. Others wore homemade T-shirts. She didn’t know what to make of it. She looked at Jordan, who shrugged in mystification.
The crowd started to cheer when they saw her. It was all very surreal. She moved among them, shocked at the sight. There was Mr. Mueller, the mailman; Deb from the diner; a whole grouping of her neighbors and former teachers. Hell, she could go on and on. It seemed like everyone was there. And that’s when she saw him.
“Daddy? You’re here too?” she said. “Do you know what’s going on?”
He smiled and put his arm around her. “Turns out these folks don’t want to see you close. In fact, they’re here to show their support and vow to keep you in business.”
“Gonna skip Starbucks from now on, Molly,” Evan Thompson, from the auto body shop called out. “I don’t care if they do have a drive-through. Your cinnamon rolls are fifty times better anyway. I’ll be here from now on each morning. Promise ya.”
“Thanks, Evan. But I don’t think that’s—”
Celia Foster pushed through the crowd. “None of us are going to that big chain store anymore. Flour Child is our bakeshop and we’d like it to stay that way. We’re not willing to give it up.”
“I’ll be in at least twice a week. Three times if I get a raise,” someone behind her called out.
Molly turned toward the voice. “That’s so nice of you to say, Mrs. Abernathy, but I’m afraid there’s not much choice. I have to close down today.”
“Actually, you don’t.” It was Felix from the bank. Molly threw a questioning look to Jordan who squeezed her hand.
“I don’t understand.”
He handed her an envelope. “The mortgage has been paid, along with the secondary loan. You’re free and clear.”
She stared at him. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“A donor came forward. Paid it all off in your name.” Felix looked to his right, and Molly followed his gaze.
There, standing at the edge of the crowd, feigning interest in the shop’s awning and pretty much ignoring everyone was Mr. Jeffries.
He scoffed, catching Molly looking at him. “What?”
“Did you pay off my mortgage, Mr. Jeffries?”
He glared back at her like she was less than bright. “Well, I couldn’t exactly have the shop close down, could I? A man’s entitled to his routine, you know.”
She didn’t know what to say. “Thank you,” was the start she went with. “I’ll pay you back just as soon as I can.” She couldn’t quite process this turn of events.