“Why’s that? I thought you discussed it with your father.” He picked up his cup and took a sip, his gaze fixed on her as he waited for her reply.
“Yes, I did. But given the amount, it should go to your family, not me. I don’t deserve to be included in his will. I’m just a girl he used to know. No one special.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Jake placed his cup back on the saucer. “You obviously meant a lot to him.”
She frowned at the thought. Her father had said much the same thing. But when it came to Jesse, so much had never made sense—not only the bequest but also the card and the autographed drumsticks.
Molly went to tell Jake about them, then changed her mind. She’d gift them to him one day, maybe if she left for the UK in the new year, but right now, the sight of those sticks bought her a semblance of peace for some unknown reason. But then, not everything needs to be explained or understood. And that had always been the essence of her time with Jesse.
No explanations, no understanding.
“Speaking of my family,” Jake continued, “I’m concerned about Mum’s reaction to you the other day. She’s hurt that Jesse never mentioned you and convinced herself you knew he was dying and chose to stay away in spite of the fact.”
“Just like you’d convinced yourself?”
“Maybe. But I’m more accepting than she is.”
Molly tucked that statement away for later. “Why don’t people bother to ask before passing judgment?”
“Because sometimes there’s no comfort in the truth.” Jake leaned back in his chair, but his gaze persisted. “And I’m sorry we didn’t discuss this sooner.”
“Thank you. And thanks for inviting me here and giving me the chance to explain. I loathe miscommunication.”
Jake nodded. “Yes, me too.”
“As for your mother, grief can cloud a person’s perception, I get that, but I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just want to live my life as best I can, and some days, that’s a challenge.”
20
Jake watched as Molly gathered her bag from the floor beside her. She’d not touched a thing on the cake stand, but their conversation hadn’t exactly been conducive to eating pastries while sipping tea.
He’d wanted to ask more about the challenges she’d faced, the people she’d left behind, her loves and losses. Had she been in love with his twin? Had they discussed building a life together?
Then he remembered she was only twenty at the time, barely out of high school, and way too young to be tied down. When Jake was twenty, all he wanted to do was get laid, drink beer, and go surfing.
Molly rose from the table and shouldered her bag. “I should go. Let you enjoy the rest of your day.” She glanced around the room as if saying goodbye to a space she’d never return to. “Don’t worry about driving me home. I’ll call an Uber. And thanks for the choux pastry lesson the other day… and the éclairs. In spite of the unexpected intro to your mother, I still enjoyed myself.”
The words “now or never” surfaced in Jake’s mind. He didn’t want Molly to leave, not yet. The connection he felt with her strengthened each time they met, and despite the circumstances, his need to be with her overtook all the reasons why he shouldn’t. “Any plans for the rest of the afternoon?”
She considered his question. “Not really.”
“I’m heading out to Petrie Bay. Wanna come?”
Molly moved to the window, her gaze on the tree-framed view of the harbor. She turned back to face him, her expression one of sadness. “Why are you doing this? A few days ago, you called me confused. Now, you want us to spend time together?”
“You know why.”
She hesitated. “When we first met, you could hardly look me in the eye, and at the bake-off, you were downright superior, bordering on rude at times. Then, out of nowhere, you’re giving me choux lessons, making home deliveries, and inviting me to high tea. I don’t get it.”
“Are you sure about that?” Jake stayed at the table; it seemed safer somehow.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with the other contestants. In fact, you were quite charming when it suited you. So, salted pastry cream aside, why did I draw the short straw?”
Now in his thirties, Jake saw no point in playing games. Honesty held no captives; he knew that. The person he’d respected—loved—the most in life was gone, and for some unknown reason, Jesse had delivered Molly into his life. Perhaps she was meant to be there, even if for only a fleeting moment in time.
He leaned back, one hand on the handle of his cup, the other relaxed along his jawline. “I’ve always been a fan of honesty without apology, so here goes.That day I saw you walking along the waterfront with your friends—Valentine’s Day of all days—I didn’t stare at you because you looked familiar. I stared because I was interested. Then, a few weeks later, when I realized you were a contestant in the bake-off, I felt like a teenager crushing on someone way out of my league, so…”
Molly returned to the table and rested her hands on the back of the chair, so close the delicate scent of her flooded his senses with a touch of regret. She held his gaze as if urging him to say more. “You had a crush? On me? Are you serious right now?”
