“Big-girl sex?” CeCe gestured with a hand for Molly to continue.
Molly fanned herself dramatically. “He’s intense and commanding and so freakin’ passionate that my knees go weak just thinking about him. And, man, that guy can kiss. So, yeah… big-girl sex.”
“You realize I won’t be able to set foot in the patisserie again without those three little words messing up my head?”
Molly laughed. “Perhaps it’s time we started keeping secrets from each other.”
“What, and spoil all my fun? I don’t think so.”
25
Three days later, Molly returned to Silkwood Crescent at Jake’s request, a box from her favorite delicatessen in hand. Jake opened the door before she even had the chance to ring the bell. He kissed her on both cheeks, then took her coat and hung it on the stand.
“I brought sustenance.”
His lips lifted a fraction as he accepted the box. “Sustenance sounds good.”
Molly followed him into the open-plan living area, where a low fire flickered in the grate, and as he set the food on the counter, all she wanted was to lounge on the sofa with a glass of wine and a wedge of brie and forget all about the outside world.
She studied him as he turned. With dark circles under his eyes and his beard scruffy, he looked exhausted. “Are you okay? You seem tired.”
He brushed aside her concern with his signature shrug. “Yeah. I just have a lot going on at the moment. Wine?”
“Thanks.”
He poured two glasses of red and handed one to her. “Here’s to new beginnings.” He lifted his glass and motioned to the box. “You going to do the honors?”
“Sure. Do you have a charcuterie board in this no-clutter kitchen of yours?”
Jake opened a cabinet and pulled out a slate-gray platter. “Will this do?”
“Perfect.” As Molly arranged the cheese, cured meat, breads, and quince paste, she felt Jake watching her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly.
She looked up and smiled. “Thanks for inviting me.”
They sat in front of the fire, the delicious food between them and the mellow tones of Joni Mitchell flowing from the sound system. Satiated and with a wineglass dangling from her hand, Molly leaned back in her chair. “I love this song. I saw her sing it at the Grammys a while back.”
“Me too. What an amazing presence. I heard a busker sing it in French once. She was outside the patisserie where I worked and, I loved it so much that I asked her to sing it again.”
“Do you miss it?”
“What, Paris? At times.”
“Tell me about your life there. Ten years is a long time to stay on the other side of the world when you’re in your twenties.”
“There’s nothing much to tell. I went there on a working holiday… one job led to another, and before I knew it, I was buying my own place and running a kitchen.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Mostly. The pressure got a little intense at times. But…” Jake paused. “Anyway, I don’t like living in the past.”
Molly couldn’t help but feel he was holding something back—another life she’d never be privy to. However, she understood his hesitancy. Like most people, she had untold stories of her own, ones she didn’t want to be judged for by voicing them. It was a smart decision she’d made after one too many heartbreaks. Now, she seldom talked about her past, even with her parents.
“I’d love to go there one day. To see the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. And eat the pastries, of course.”
He leaned forward to help himself to more cheese. “You should. It’s an experience, that’s for sure. Actually, I have to go back soon, just for a few weeks, to tie up some loose ends.”
