Molly must have sensed her reluctance and whispered against her neck. “You have to go, don’t you?”

She kissed her temple. “Probably.”

Molly pushed herself up, looking adorably concerned. “Do you think you can stay awake for the drive? Let me make you some coffee.”

She sat up across from Molly. “I won’t need it. I think you’ve given me a lot to think about. Reflect on. Relive.” She raised an eyebrow in seductive punctuation.

“Good.” Molly leaned in and brushed her lips in a feather light kiss. “Was kinda the goal. Now let’s get you on the road to cinematic history before I change my mind about giving you up.”

Jordan dressed silently and Molly slipped into a robe. As they said good-bye in the doorway of Molly’s house, Jordan felt the lump form in her throat. She’d be back in just two weeks for her father’s birthday, but that seemed like an eternity. She didn’t want to leave Molly. And how ironic was that? She was the girl who always hoped the women she was with wouldn’t get attached, and here she’d gone and done just that. More than that even, because she wasn’t just attached, she was in deep.

Molly touched her cheek. “Call me when you get there so I know you’re safe.”

“I will.”

Molly went up on her toes and kissed her, lingering just a bit. “Bye, Jordan. Please be safe.” And as she pulled back, Jordan felt the loss.

“Sweet dreams, Molly.” She walked backward a few steps, memorizing the way Molly looked in that moment. Standing on the porch in her robe, still swollen lips. Sexy as hell. She’d done a lot of difficult things in her life, but leaving Molly that night had definitely been somewhere at the top of that list.

But they had plenty of time, she reminded herself as she pulled onto Main Street. Plenty of time.

Chapter Twenty-one

“Yes, hi. This is Molly O’Brien calling for Mr. Tranton again.” She shifted the phone to the other ear so she could better stir the brownie batter. The advance check he promised her should be ready soon and she needed to arrange for delivery or pickup, whichever would be faster. The bank continued to call on practically a daily basis now and she no longer had the luxury of that little cushion of time.

The curt woman on the other end of the line sighed. “Yes, Ms. O’Brien. Mr. Tranton received your messages and instructed me to tell you that your advance check would be ready by the end of next week. He was hopeful you’d have time to discuss a few details of the Walgreens deal. It’s almost in place.”

Praise baby Jesus.

She’d held the bank off as long as she possibly could, and the minutes were beginning to matter, a place she’d never thought she’d be. Even though she was growing further and further behind, if the check was ready when his assistant professed it would be, all would be well.

It was Tuesday. She could make it to Monday. She could. Big sigh of relief. “Thank you so much.”

“Mr. Tranton will be in touch within the week to set up the planning session.”

“That sounds great. I appreciate your help.”

She hung up the phone and turned to Eden and Louise who stared at her like a couple of beauty pageant contestants, awaiting the results.

She let out a breath. “The check will be ready on Monday. We’re still good.”

The tension left their bodies immediately as they released one another, but Eden tried to play if off. “I told you, sugar! You worry too much! Pass me that salted butter!” But the covert look she exchanged with Louise coupled with the fact that she was now speaking in exclamation points tipped her hand. She’d been every bit as concerned as Molly had.

They were in this together, she realized. Her little group. They were a makeshift Flour Child family, and she was so grateful for them it almost hurt.

But in newly fantastic news, the bakeshop family was going to be okay. She’d just been assured of that. She took a moment to call Felix over at the mortgage department and let him know that the check was on its way. He’d seemed conservatively happy to hear it, and she knew she owed him her firstborn for all the interference he’d run for her over the last six months.

Content that her job was no longer at stake, Louise headed to the front of the shop to work the counter. “I’m off to greet the customers and hopefully dodge Mr. Jeffries’ grumbling.”

Molly turned to her. “That man adores you, Lou. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Well, he should try smiling once in a while. You know, prove he has teeth. You never know at his age.”

Eden laughed. “Tall order for that man.”

Molly and Eden went back to their respective projects, brownies and croissants, working in quiet tandem.

Eden shot her a look across the island. “You hangin’ in there, sugar?”

She glanced up. “Sure. I’m getting by.”

Eden leaned her hip against the counter and folded her arms. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“Who?” It was a lame attempt to sidestep a conversation that would make her think about Jordan, because when she thought about Jordan, all she did was think about Jordan, so she rationed it out in small doses. The truth of it was she missed her more than she would have thought possible.

“Don’t play dumb with me, missy. You’ve fallen for her and we all know it. It’s written all over your pretty little face when you get all daydreamy and smile at nothing.”

“I do miss her. A lot, actually.”

Eden’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “So you’re in this for real? Inching toward the big L-O-V-E? White picket fence and all?”

And there was that hesitation. As much as she was feeling for Jordan, there were obstacles holding her back when she considered anything too permanent. Because there was the bigger picture to consider. Among other issues, there were the Tuscanas, who would hate the idea of she and Jordan together by design. And the concept of losing them was almost too much to think about. They were the only family she had outside of her father. It would crush her if they were no longer a part of her life. And what if she devastated them with this relationship, and she and Jordan didn’t work out in the end. The risk was exponential and she wasn’t generally a risk taker.

“I think love is a lofty word.”

“Okay, so you’re playing it conservative. I can get behind that. But it’s good? Things are progressing?”

“They are, and most of the time I’m incredibly happy about that. But it’s different. She’s…different.” Molly slid the brownies into the oven and pushed herself up onto the counter.

“And that’s a problem?”

“It’s…” She hesitated, not knowing quite how to explain the thoughts that had her consumed with guilt for the past couple of days. “It’s a problem for me, I guess. Yeah.”

Eden narrowed her eyes, trying to understand. “Wait. So you’re comparing her to her sister?”

Molly took a moment and nodded. “I wish I didn’t, but yeah. And when I do compare them, I feel horrible. Hence, the problem.”

Eden took a breath. “You’re gonna have to decode this one for me.”

Molly sat up straighter thinking of another way to explain. “Cassie was goal oriented, dependable, and sweet, but fairly serious. Jordan is funny, wild, and unpredictable. She’s the life of every room she’s in. Sometimes it’s hard to believe they’re even sisters.”

“Still not sensing a problem.”

“There’s more.” And here we go. “With Cassie, things were sweet. They were comfortable, right where you’d want them to be.”

“And with Jordan?”

She shook her head slowly. “We click in a way I’ve never experienced. It’s like this thing that overtakes me when I’m around her. I just want to talk to her, laugh with her, stare at her all the time. It’s a lot to take in in a really wonderful way.”

“Different is okay, Molly.”

“Different is okay. But what if it’s more? More doesn’t feel okay.”

Eden’s face softened as realization struck. She moved to her quickly, taking Molly gently by the shoulders and rubbing her hands up and down. “Oh, sweetie. You’re worried that you fit better with Jordan than you fit with Cassie? You can’t do that to yourself. You can’t beat yourself up for what you feel. That’s not something you’re in control of. I get that you don’t want to betray Cassie’s memory, but that’s not what’s happening here. You have to move on with your life and forgive yourself for what’s happening between you and Jordan, no matter how strong your feelings are.”

Molly raised her gaze to Eden, her voice laced with fear. “I don’t know if I can.”

*

It was the end of the day Wednesday and Jordan flopped onto her couch and turned on a little jazz to take the edge off her aching neck muscles. She’d spent the day researching office space and pricing equipment, and now her brain felt fuzzy, and really, who could blame it?

In some ways, Jordan was happy to be home. It felt good to see the familiar walls of her downtown apartment and scratch Frankie under his chin again. He still hadn’t totally forgiven her for leaving, but they were baby-stepping their way back to a respectable cat-human relationship. She fawned over him and he acted like he could perhaps put up with it. It was a start.

The meeting with the investors had gone well and after taking a look at some proposed projects and a reel of Jordan’s work, it seemed they had a tentative deal. And that meant cash. This production company was actually going to happen and there was a lot to be done.

But she had to hand it to herself. It’d been a productive month. She’d figured out her next career move, something she had a true passion for, and had even reconnected with her family. Yet, for the past week, her life felt incomplete and she knew why. Molly wasn’t there, and that made everything seem a little less vibrant.