Brayden, Melissa - How Sweet It Is

Finally, he gave her a long look. “Understand that this money will go against your share of the profits until it’s repaid in full. It would be an advance, not any kind of signing bonus.”

“I understand completely.”

Another never-ending pause. “We have a deal. I’ll put the advance in the paperwork,” he said and extended his hand. They were the most glorious words in the history of words.

“We do?” She felt the most amazing smile break across her face as she stood. Relief flooded her senses, and her body felt so much lighter, like she could easily float away. She shook his hand, but it wasn’t enough. She full on hugged the guy and jumped up and down a few times afterward.

He laughed at her antics and eyed her strangely at the same time. “I’ll leave this paperwork with you and be in touch soon regarding the advance.” She was still rocking out to the imaginary victory music when he left.

Things were coming together. They were going to be all right. She looked at the photo of her parents on the wall and felt such gratitude for what they’d built for her. And she hadn’t let them down. She hadn’t. And with MollyDollys to put Flour Child on the map, business would return to how it had been in the pre-Starbucks era.

When her dancing mellowed to a controlled hopping, she no longer knew what to do with herself. Except that she did. She fumbled for her phone. There was one person she had to share this with.

*

Flour Child was seemingly deserted when Molly came into work that next day, but with the new plan in place, she tried not to let that bother her. She’d given herself the late morning shift so she could enjoy a quiet, celebratory morning at home after the events of the day before. Deserted, of course with the exception of Mr. Jeffries, who was nursing his coffee a bit longer than usual and watching the world go by from his seat by the window. She greeted him, which earned her a customary scowl in return.

She made her way to the back of the shop to put on her apron and get to work. She’d be off by six, and that left plenty of time for evening plans, about which she had a lot of ideas.

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.