She should probably go over the morning’s receipts to see how they did and—“Holy hell!” She was ripped abruptly from her thoughts at the sight of Eden and Damon engaged in a heat infused lip lock for the ages. She covered her eyes out of respect and because these two hadn’t been just making out. They’d been climbing all over each other in some sort of aggressive, passion-filled groping session that they clearly did not intend for her to see. Holy hell, again.

Okay. What in the world was she supposed to say here? Carry on? Nice technique? Her brain wasn’t working. Better just to talk sans the thinking. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your making out. Sorry. Your time, I mean—HOLY HELL! What is happening right now?”

Because quite honestly, she was at a loss on every count.

They’d stepped away from each other as soon as Molly walked in, and now Eden seemed to be sending Damon secret signals with her eyes. But he wasn’t understanding, which only complicated things, so the three of them stood there in the most awkward triangle of confusion as Molly prayed the floor would open and swallow her up and away. She was tempted to jump and see if she could make that happen.

Eventually, Eden inclined her head in the direction of the door. “Scram, hot sauce. Let me talk to Molly.” He nodded a few times too many and finally left them in the kitchen with a quick “sorry about that” thrown in Molly’s general direction as he passed.

Once they were alone, Eden turned to her calmly. “I apologize you had to walk in on that, sugar.”

Molly was still reeling. The world was upside down. Eden and Damon, mortal enemies, had just finished a round of tonsil hockey in her kitchen, and damn it, there had better be an explanation so life could make sense again. “Don’t apologize. No apology needed. Just explain, please. How long has this been going on?”

Eden shrugged. “Three months or so.”

“Three months! And you’re just now telling me? Correction. You weren’t telling me at all, were you? When were you planning on doing that, exactly?”

Eden sighed and took off her apron. “I’ve been trying to, but it’s hard, you know. Damon and I, well, we’re…about as easy to explain as a two-headed rooster.”

“Trust me. I get that. Not the rooster thing, but the complicated part. So all that fighting, that was an act?”

“Hell no. He drives me crazy and then some. But that’s where it all comes from, I think. We argue, we fight, and then there’s all this tension in the air and then we have to just”—she made a grabbing gesture with her hands—“tear each other’s clothes off and have at it.”

“It’s foreplay?” Molly asked in disbelief. “You two put us through all your crazy knockdown, drag outs so you can ravish each other later?”

Eden looked at her guiltily. “Yeah, I guess that’s about it.”

“And you legitimately like him?”

“At first, it was just the sexy sex, and who doesn’t love sexy sex? But, you know, he’s actually kind of sweet to me. Does thoughtful things other men wouldn’t think of. Leaves me little notes and takes the trash out before he leaves, you know?”

Molly stared at her, liking the new shade of pink that dusted Eden’s cheeks. She seemed more embarrassed by her last admission than the scintillating scene Molly had just caught her in. It was telling. “Well, look who’s got it bad? Come here.” She pulled a clearly bashful Eden in for a tight hug. “I like you in vulnerable. It totally counteracts your feisty disposition.”

“This does not mean we’re gonna run off and get hitched. At least not right away.”

“But I look stunning in red so keep that in mind when you pick out your bridesmaid dresses.” Which was a perfect coincidence because Eden’s face was now scarlet.

“What about you?” Eden asked, clearly trying to deflect. “How’s your red hot love life?”

Molly thought back to the picnic in the park and felt the smile break out across her face. “You know? I don’t have too many things to complain about this week. And”—she held out one arm to punctuate—“I have an honest to goodness date tonight.”

“Whoa. With Hotty McHotpants?” Molly suppressed an eye roll at Eden’s new favorite nickname for Jordan.

“With Jordan, yes.”

“Oh my dear Lord in heaven, alert the media. Molly O’Brien has taken the big step in living her life to the fullest.”

Molly held up a finger. “Except, let’s not alert anyone. It’s imperative that my in-laws don’t hear anything about this until we decide we need to tell them. And we haven’t decided that yet. It’s too early and there is no reason to get everyone involved until we’re sure. Capiche?”

“I think I can manage that as long as you can promise the same about the smooching display you saw here today.” Eden slid her a sidewise stare in challenge and extended her hand to seal the deal.

Molly accepted it just as the bell up front signaled a customer. “I’ll get it.”

“It’s probably Mrs. Peterson picking up her triple order of MollyDollys. I tell you what; these little truffles are going to put us in the lap of luxury. They’re flying out of here faster than a glob of butter melts on a stack of hotcakes.”

Molly took a minute with that one. “So, fast?”

“Hell, yeah. Fast.”

Molly felt a burst of pride. “Well, they may not put us in the lap of luxury, but they will keep us in business. Let me help Mrs. Peterson and then I have a story to tell you. I received some very important papers today.”

*

“So Eden was excited?” Jordan asked, taking another sip of her champagne. They’d wound up at a little French place Jordan knew about not too far from Applewood. She’d insisted they celebrate Molly’s news over crepes and a little bubbly, which had made for a fantastic dinner. She’d made note of the restaurant when she’d discovered it and planned to come back one day.

Molly leaned her chin on her hand. “She was thrilled. Turned out they’d all pretty much figured out that the shop was going under. They just didn’t have the heart to let on, so they played dumb. All three of them. They’re about to be out of a job and they’re worried about my feelings. Can you imagine that?”

“It’s a great group you have there.”

Molly smiled as she thought about it. “We’re a little family, in a way. It’s nice to care so much about the people you work with.” She reached across the small table and threaded her fingers through Jordan’s. “I have a lot of great people in my life it seems.”

Jordan looked at their hands and then back at Molly. “There’s a reason for that, you know.”

“And what would that be?”

“Because of who you are, Molly. Your kindness. Your warmth. It sounds like a cliché, but you’re the heart and soul of the whole town, and what you do at the bakeshop makes a difference. The way you take time with everyone and the care you put into the amazing food. It goes a long way. When people walk out of Flour Child, their day is a little bit brighter. I, for one, happen to think that’s a pretty amazing thing. I hope to make that sort of a difference one day.”

Her words were simple, but they resonated. Hearing what Jordan thought of her, that what she did mattered, moved something powerful in Molly. She took a sip of champagne to allow the weight to settle. “Thank you,” she said, lifting her eyes to Jordan. “And I don’t quite know what to say after that.”

The small candle that sat between them flickered gently, and Jordan tilted her head to the side, biting her bottom lip in a move Molly found incredibly attractive. “Don’t say anything. Just know it’s true.”

They moved on to lighter topics then. The changing weather and the longer days. How much they looked forward to summer and the fireflies that would dance through the trees at night. And they laughed a lot. That was Molly’s favorite part about spending time with Jordan. They always had such fun together. Time seemed to fly by.

And it was easy. Just easy in the most wonderful way.

Later, they walked back to Jordan’s car leisurely, hand in hand. As they neared the car, Molly tugged Jordan’s hand bringing them to a stop. “Tonight was wonderful. Dinner. The conversation. And then there’s the fact that you look amazing.” She did too. When Jordan had knocked on her door earlier that evening, Molly had needed a moment to take her in. Dark jeans and an off red V-neck top that dipped just low enough, capped off with the standard boots, this time with a small heel. Not overly fancy, but killer when it was Jordan wearing it. Her mouth had gone dry at the sight.

Jordan stepped into her. “Then I hope you won’t mind if I do this.” She dipped her head and kissed Molly, a slow gentle kiss that left her skin tingling and alive.

“You kiss pretty good, Hotty McHotpants.”

“What did you just call me?” Jordan whispered against her mouth, the corners of her lips curving in amusement.

“You heard me,” Molly said, leaning in for more and sliding her arms around Jordan’s neck in the process. Yeah, this was a pretty good date, she thought lazily, as they kissed some more. Finally, she pulled back and looked into Jordan’s eyes. “Now take me home. There’s homemade Oreo ice cream.”

Jordan’s mouth fell open a little. “Sometimes when I think you can’t get any better, you somehow do. How did you know I like Oreo?”

“Everyone likes Oreo. It’s a law of nature.”

“I love nature.”

*

Back at Molly’s house, Jordan fed Rover while Molly scooped the ice cream. “He’s a happy little guy,” Jordan remarked as Rover sprang into action, doing laps around the tank as if he knew he had an audience.

“He’s a little obsessed with dinner time. A fish after my own heart, I’m afraid.”

“I like his fish spirit.”

Molly handed Jordan a bowl and made her way to the couch. She’d taken off her shoes and wore just the green print sundress that preoccupied Jordan all through dinner.