Brayden, Melissa - How Sweet It Is

“Why don’t we all go to dinner?” Jordan asked. It wasn’t exactly her place to make such a suggestion, but it was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Mr. O’Brien just seemed so sad and she wanted desperately to cheer him up.

He seemed to perk up a bit at the offer. “I don’t want to ruin any plans you might have.”

Molly shrugged. “We don’t have plans and I’m starving. Do you feel up for it?”

An enormous smile broke across his face, as if he were touched at the invitation. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” Molly said. “Let me call over to The Manor and let them know what’s going on. I don’t want them sending out a search party for you.” As she passed Jordan, she squeezed her arm. “Thank you,” she said quietly, meeting her eyes.

Jordan nodded, happy to hear she hadn’t overstepped her bounds.

*

Molly listened to the two of them in awe. They were like long lost best pals.

“I think City Lights might have been his best work.” Her father set down his fork. “The opening scene where the tramp meets the flower girl, now that was a masterpiece.”

Jordan nodded, her eyes sparkling in excitement. “Did you know Chaplin shot that scene three hundred and forty-two times? He couldn’t figure out how the blind girl was going to mistake the tramp for a wealthy man. Can you imagine the mood on that set?”

“I wouldn’t want to.”

“Cheers to that.” They clinked glasses and Molly regarded them. They’d been chatting about movies for the past thirty minutes and seemed to be having a great time. It was fun to watch them exchange stories, each so involved in what the other had to say. She could listen to them all night.

It turned out that Jordan’s idea had been a good one.

They’d decided on Angelina’s, a quiet little Italian restaurant just on the perimeter of Applewood. They’d shared a bottle of Chianti, though her father limited himself to one glass. The homemade lasagna was to die for, and Molly had been eying Jordan’s spaghetti and meatballs ever since their food had arrived. When her father excused himself to the restroom, she made her move.

“Hey, isn’t that Mrs. Trimble, the hateful algebra teacher from high school?”

Jordan turned in her chair and Molly slyly stole a meatball and popped it into her mouth. Jordan whirled back around and shot her a look of feigned shock. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“So incredibly worth it,” Molly managed as she finished chewing the most wonderful meatball on the planet.

“Totally blatant.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a daredevil. They actually call me that around town. Daredevil Molly.”

Jordan laughed. “First of all, no one calls you that, and second of all, you’re really cute when you have sauce all over your face.”

“And that would be?”

“Right now. Yeah.”

“Oh,” Molly said, appropriately embarrassed. She grabbed her napkin and went about scrubbing the side of her mouth.

“No, it’s actually over—Here, I got it.” Jordan delicately dabbed the corner of Molly’s mouth, smiling. Her voice was now low, intimate. “I can’t believe the same girl who was systematically taking my clothes off just two hours ago is now blushing over a little marina sauce.”

Molly felt her face heat further along with other parts of her. “You cannot say things like that to me in a restaurant. Besides, I was…in the moment then.” But just the mention of their interlude on the couch took Molly right back there.

“But not now?”

Molly could faintly smell Jordan’s perfume. Some sort of intoxicating vanilla fragrance that was affecting her ability to think clearly. Before dinner, Jordan had run home and changed into her alter ego, fashionable supermodel. Her outfit of designer jeans, a royal blue cuff shirt, and modest heels, was in great contrast to the one she’d worn earlier. One of the qualities that made her incredibly intriguing. Not to mention alluring. So many interesting layers to explore. Molly’s eyes dipped to Jordan’s mouth, and her stomach did a roll. It took her a minute to find her voice, her body now thrumming. “No, I’d say now too.”

Jordan’s expression took on the heat Molly felt. “We’re kind of—”

“Combustible,” Molly supplied, without even having to think about it.

“What’s combustible?” her dad asked as he settled back into his chair.

Molly laughed, totally caught. “Oh. The, um, what’s it called? The chocolate lava cake they rolled by.”

He shook his head. “I wish I’d saved room.”

“Next time,” Jordan said.

The mood from earlier was recaptured easily as they settled in and waited for the check. It had been a fun night. Her dad looked a little tired, but the laughing, smiling, and time out seemed to have bolstered his spirits noticeably. In fact, she didn’t understand why she hadn’t thought of it sooner. Visiting him daily was all well and good, but she should have been taking him out more, even if it had to be for short spurts. He was a gregarious type who needed to feel connected to the world. She decided to make a point to plan things for them to do together outside of The Manor.

As they drove back to Molly’s house after getting her father settled back in, Molly felt herself at a loss.

What now? She didn’t know the proper protocol here and didn’t want to assume anything. There was Jordan’s car parked along the curb, and there were the steps that led to her house.

Her bed.

So many options with so many repercussions.

Jordan turned to face her on the sidewalk outside of the house. “It was fun tonight. Catching up with your dad. Smart guy.”

The warmth in Jordan’s eyes caused Molly to relax. “He is. Thanks for being so wonderful tonight. You knew what he needed when I didn’t. He had a great night tonight because of you.”

Jordan raised a shoulder and let it drop almost shyly. “I don’t know what you mean. We all had a fun night.”

“Yes, you do.” Molly took a step into her and tugged lightly on her shirt. “You’ve turned into a pretty great person, you know that?”

Jordan appeared genuinely touched. “Thank you.” They stood on the sidewalk starring at each other lazily before Jordan took a deep breath. “I guess I should say good night.”

“Yeah.” And then, “Is that what you want?”

Jordan took a minute and shook her head.

“What we’re doing here, Jordan, it can’t be—”

She held up a hand, but her eyes held understanding. “I get it. You don’t have to explain. I won’t develop any grand ideas about the future. I’m a big girl, Molly, and I know the score here.”

But Molly felt the need to explain. “No, it’s not like that. There’s no score. I care about you, Jordan, a lot. It’s just that this is a tricky situation and, God, when you look at me like that I can’t even think straight.”

Jordan’s lips parted in surprise. She moved in slowly and kissed her, causing Molly’s head to spin right on cue. “Can we go inside?” Jordan said quietly. “Forget the world for a while? Even if it’s just temporary?”

“That sounds about perfect.” And it did. They were on the same page and all was well.

When they came together that night, their pace was slow. Wonderfully so. Molly savored each tender touch, excruciating as it was to not race ahead. They enjoyed each other in a whole new way that Molly found intoxicating. She let herself get lost in Jordan, and it was the most satisfying feeling in the whole world.

Letting go.

She marveled how adept Jordan seemed to be at just about everything, and that included sex. She knew exactly when to be sweet and coaxing and when she should be neither of those things. It was a powerful combination.