Southern Storm

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Southern Storm Page 7

by Natasha Madison

She shrugs now, and when I look at her, I see that her shield is up, and her eyes are void of emotion. It’s like she locked it down and only opens it when she’s alone. “It is what it is. There is nothing I can say to change anyone’s mind.”

  “But you aren’t that person,” I say, walking to the truck. “You aren’t the person who people think you are.”

  She opens the back door to the truck and puts her bag in there. “I’ve never been the person who people think I am. Even before Ethan, I was labeled when I was fucking twelve and I got breasts. People assumed I would be like my mother. Flirt and sleep her way through the town. It didn’t help that I got pregnant and stuck around.” She closes the door now. “I can’t do anything to change anyone’s perception of me, so as long as they are polite to Ethan and he’s treated with kindness, I pick my battles.”

  I think of her selflessness. I think about how it would feel to know that you aren’t wanted yet stay nonetheless. I think about the hurt she must feel, and I feel like a huge dick for not seeing it beforehand. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are?” I say, walking to her and standing in front of her. “Has anyone ever told you that?” My hand cups her cheek, and my thumb moves back and forth. “That you’re pretty amazing.”

  She looks down now, and I can see that she’s embarrassed by this and not used to it. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she says. Her stomach grumbles, and she laughs.

  “When was the last time you ate?” I ask, and she shrugs.

  “Two days ago,” she mumbles and then turns around to the driver’s side of her truck. “It’ll be fine.”

  “Two days ago?” I shout. “Two days ago?” I repeat, and she gets up and into her truck. “You go to my house,” I say through the open window on the passenger side. I reach in my pocket and hand her my key to the house. “I’m going to the diner and pick up food,” I say, and she leans over and grabs the key.

  “What if one of your women shows up?” she asks, and I just glare at her.

  “I don’t have women, and that was the first time anyone has stepped foot into my house.” She raises her eyebrows. “Not counting you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she jokes and starts the car. “You do know that I’m a bartender, right?” she says, and I just look at her. “You do know that I’m almost a shrink.”

  “What’s your point?” I ask her.

  “My point is that people talk. Women, especially, so you may not have women in your house, but you have women,” she says, putting the truck in reverse. “And all those women are waiting with bated breath to see who you’ll pick.” She looks away from me and backs out.

  “I pick you,” I say to the empty space in front of me as I watch her drive away. I walk to my truck and make my way over to the diner. The bell rings over the door when I walk in, looking around at the tables that are full. Most of the people look at the door and smile at me when I walk in. Mr. Lewis comes out of the back kitchen and smiles at me. I walk over to the counter and sit on one of the red stools in front. “Hey there, Mr. Lewis.”

  “Mr. Mayor.” He smiles big. “What can I get for you?”

  “I’ll have two cheeseburgers fully loaded,” I say, looking up at the menu board that hasn’t changed in over ten maybe even twenty years. “Some fries and rings with that also.”

  “Will do,” he says, turning and walking back into the kitchen. The door opens again, and I look over my shoulder to see that it’s Grady. He stops at a couple of tables on his way to the counter and takes the stool next to me.

  “Hey,” he says. Mr. Lewis comes back out, and Grady places his order. “Did Jacob call you?”

  “No.” My thumbs move on the counter as Delores comes out and puts two Cokes down in front of us with a smile. “Why?”

  “I’m going to grab a couple of guys and go over to Savannah’s to put some wood up tonight,” he says, and I look at him confused.

  “Why would you be doing that?” I ask. He avoids my eyes, and I know deep down that this has to do with my father. I can feel it in my bones.

  “Seems everyone is busy,” he tells me, taking the Coke and bringing it to his lips, “with no spare time.”

  “Is that so?” I ask. He just nods and looks over at me. “Interesting.”

  “I think so, too,” he says.

  “Do you need help?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “I can drop off the food and then come back.”

  “Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s all good. I have two guys coming in to help me.”

  Mr. Lewis comes out with a bag in his hand. “Here you go.” He hands it to me. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “Add Grady’s also.”

  “Now that, Mr. Mayor …” Grady starts, and he hides his smirk when he says the next line. “They could count that as a bribe.”

  “Fuck you.” I shake my head, laughing. “Let me know when it’s done.” He nods, and I walk out of the diner. When I pull up to my house, something inside me shifts when I see her truck parked in the driveway, and I park right behind her.

  Opening the door, I don’t hear any noise. “Hello?” I shout, but when I make it into the kitchen, I can’t find her anywhere. My heart starts to speed up, and I jog up the steps and go to the spare bedroom. I find her bag on the bed, but that is it. I walk to my bedroom and see that she isn’t in there, and when I jog back down the steps, I look out and see that she is lying in the hammock. Opening the back door, I walk down the steps and head across the grass. She sways side to side, and her eyes are closed. The sound of a branch breaking under my foot makes her eyes flutter open.

  “Hey,” I say softly. “Were you sleeping?”

  “No,” she says, “but I was resting my eyes.” I watch her, taking in how beautiful she is, and with the sun going down, her eyes are a darker blue. “It’s so relaxing.”

  “Come and eat,” I say. “Then you can come back once you’re fed.”

  She gets off the hammock. “Fine.” We walk into the house side by side, and she devours her burger, fries, and half the onion rings. “God, that was good.” She gets up and cleans up, then looks at me.

  “Do you think I can take a bath?” I just nod and don’t say anything because the fact that she’s going to be under my roof naked and in a bubble bath makes my cock so hard I almost groan out in pain. “Great,” she says and walks away, going upstairs.

  I clean up the kitchen and try not to think about the fact that she’s upstairs. I try not to think about the fact that I want to see her naked, and that I’ve been thinking about it more and more recently. I try not to think about the fact that I want her here more and more. I try to also talk myself down off the ledge. It takes Grady an hour to text me that they’ve finished at Savannah’s house and then another text from Tony letting me know that it’ll take him three days to get everything replaced and back to normal. Grabbing my laptop, I scan my emails now and make a list of things to follow up on.

  Only when I look over and see it’s dark outside do I realize it’s past ten o’clock. I shut down my computer and then walk upstairs. The light is on in the spare room, but when I walk over, nothing could prepare me for what I see. She lies in the middle of the big bed in the fetal position. Her eyes are red and puffy because she has been crying.

  “What happened?” I ask, my heart stopping in my chest. I walk to the bed and sit beside her.

  “Nothing,” she says, her voice so soft you can barely hear it. “Absolutely nothing.”

  I reach out and push her hair away from her face. “Then why the tears?”

  “My whole life, all I wanted was to be better. I saw the way they would look at my mother, and all I could do was say I was going to be better than that,” she says, the tears so big they roll over her eyes. “I should have left.” Her voice sounds so broken. “I should have taken the money I had and left.”

  I lie down in bed with her on top of the blankets and take her in my arms. “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know what I would do with
out you,” I say, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she cries in my arms.

  I don’t know how long we are both sleeping, but when I hear the sound of glass breaking, my eyes open, and then I hear a car peel off. “What is that?” she mumbles. I get off the bed and walk over to the window that overlooks the front lawn and both of our cars. “What is it?” I hear from beside me, and then she must see what I see. “Oh my God.”

  I walk to the side table where I placed my phone and call Grady, who answers after one ring. “Mayor.”

  “Hey, no rush,” I start to say and look over to Savannah who stands there with her hand over her mouth, “but someone just smashed my car windows.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Savannah

  “I have no idea. I heard the sound of windows breaking and then a car speeding away.” Beau stands there on his phone, and the only thing I can do is look down at his windows. “Yeah, tomorrow is fine.”

  He hangs up the phone, and he rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry,” I say softly. “This is all my fault.”

  He looks over at me, and his hair is all rustled from sleep, his shirt untucked and wrinkled. “How is any of this your fault?” he asks, putting his hands on his waist. “It could be all the women who are after me,” he tries to joke. “I did send what’s-her-name away, and now your truck is in my driveway.”

  I sit on the bed. “Everyone knows we are best friends, and you would never date me.” I try to make the words not matter.

  “Why you do think I would never date you?” he asks, and I avoid his eyes. “If anything, you’re the only one I would date.” My eyes fly to his. “I mean, let’s face it, we are best friends,” he says. “I’m with you more than anyone else. Also, that kiss was out of this world.”

  My stomach dips just a bit when he mentions the kiss. The kiss that I’ve wanted more of ever since. “Even your Tuesday girl?” I joke with him, and he glares at me.

  “What is it with this fucking Tuesday girl?” He throws his hands in the air. “I haven’t fucked anyone on a Tuesday in a while, let alone every Tuesday.” He walks to the door. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “So feisty,” I joke, and he looks over his shoulder. “Maybe you should be having sex if you are this uptight.” Though the thought of him having sex with other women makes me physically sick. He sticks up his finger, flipping me off, and walks toward his bedroom. I hear the door close and then the water turns on. I put my hand to my stomach, and I get up, walking downstairs to get some water. I walk back up the stairs and walk back into the bedroom. I’m about to slip into bed when my phone starts to ring. I immediately jump up, my heart hammering as thoughts of Ethan being sick make my heart beat even faster.

  I pick up the phone, seeing that it’s an unknown number. “Hello?” I say and then don’t hear anything. “Hello?” I say again, and I hear the phone beep and then look at the screen, seeing that it’s off. The phone rings again, and I answer now right away, and it’s the same thing.

  “Are you hungry?” Looking toward the door, I see Beau’s out of the shower and standing in the doorway wearing shorts. Looking at him with my mouth hanging down, I look away and wonder why this bothers me now when I see him like that all the time. Maybe because I’m in his house. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I say. “Someone called me twice times and hung up. I thought it was Jacob, but it’s an unknown number.”

  “Maybe it’s a wrong number,” Beau says, coming closer to me. The scent of his body wash overwhelms me, and my hands tremble.

  “Maybe.” I look at him. “This guy met this girl, and she gave him the wrong number or vice versa.”

  “So he’s calling her in the middle of the night?” He laughs now.

  “Booty call,” I joke with him. “It’s almost dawn.”

  “Yeah, let’s go make breakfast,” he says, and I walk past him toward the door.

  “The last time you said that, you stood there holding a cup of coffee the whole time, pretending to take notes.” I remind him of the time we went away to a cabin up north with Ethan, and he didn’t do any cooking.

  “I told you this,” he says from behind me while I walk down the stairs. “My job is to get the food, and your job is to cook the food.”

  “In what universe?” I ask, walking to the kitchen.

  “Earth,” he says, laughing, and I look at him.

  “You make coffee.” I point at him, and he nods.

  “That I can do,” he says, opening up a cupboard and making the coffee. I grab bacon and sausage out of the fridge and start them both when my phone rings again.

  “I’ll get it,” he says and picks up the phone. “Unknown number.” He slides his finger and puts it to his ear. “Hello?” I watch him say hello again and then put the phone down.

  “This woman or man is in desperate need of something if they are going to call me three times.” I shake my head, and he laughs. When he walks past me, he puts his hands on my hips, and my whole body shivers when he lets me go. I try not to think of where he touched me, but my hips are still warm from his touch.

  “Here you go,” he says, handing me a mug of coffee made just the way I like it. “It already smells great,” he says, and we hear a soft knock on the door. “That must be Grady.”

  He walks to the door, and I hear Grady’s voice while I flip the bacon and start preparing the pancakes. “Morning,” he says, and I just smile at him.

  “Would you like some coffee?” I ask as he sits at the island.

  “I’d love some,” he says, taking out a pad and paper. I turn and lean up to grab a mug and then make Grady a cup.

  “Here you go.” I hear Beau coming into the kitchen, and he hands me a white robe. I look at him and then look at Grady who just rolls his lips and looks down at the paper in front of him.

  “What is that?” I ask him and look down at my outfit. It’s shorts and a tank top. I’m even wearing a bra.

  Beau comes closer and says, “It’s a robe,” under his breath as he puts it around my shoulders. “In case you get splashed by the food.” I look at him.

  “So cooking with a robe that is twice or maybe even three times my size is better than burning myself?”

  “Yes.” He grabs his coffee and turns around to go sit next to Grady. “What do I need to tell you?”

  I listen to him give his side of what happened while I put the robe on and roll the sleeves. I finish breakfast at the same time as Grady finishes taking the report. He joins us for breakfast, and I clean up as soon as they are both done. I’m closing the dishwasher when my phone rings again, and this time, I see it’s Jacob.

  “Hello,” I say, looking over and seeing that it’s just after seven a.m.

  “Hey,” he says, and I can hear music in the background. “Just letting you know that we are on our way back.”

  “What? I thought you were going for a couple of days. Is everything okay?” My heart starts to pick up speed.

  “Kallie isn’t feeling so hot,” he says. “She was throwing up all night, and then I think Ethan is catching it also.”

  “Oh, no,” I say, sitting down. “Well, call me when you get home, and I’ll come and get Ethan from you.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, and I hear Ethan in the back shouting that he’s going to throw up. “I’ll call you back.”

  I hang up the phone the same time Beau comes downstairs, and he’s dressed in black dress pants and a white button-down shirt. The cuffs are rolled up to his elbows, showing off the silver watch his grandfather gave him at graduation. “Who was on the phone?” he asks, running his hands through his hair. I wonder if it feels as soft and silky as it looks. He keeps it longer on the top so he can just brush it over.

  “Jacob,” I say. “He’s on his way home. Kallie and Ethan are throwing up.”

  He grimaces. “Gross.”

  I laugh. “Oh, trust me, I know all about you and your queasy stomach.” He walks over and takes out a to-go cup. “Remember when Ethan
was a baby, and you thought it was a good idea to throw him in the air?”

  “Oh my God.” He puts his hand to his stomach. “He threw up right in my mouth.” I throw my head back and laugh, thinking about it.

  “It took you two seconds to hand him over to me, and then you threw up in my flowers.” I can picture it like it was yesterday.

  “Be happy I didn’t throw up on you,” he says and closes the lid for his coffee. “I have a meeting with the sanitation department in ten minutes,” he says to me. “Do you want to come to the office for lunch?”

  I stretch. “Might as well get it over with.”

  “What does that mean?” He takes a sip of his coffee.

  “It means that the news of the bar is probably all over town,” I start. “Then the news of my windows was probably all over town even before Grady showed up. Shirley is the town’s gazette.”

  He shakes his head. “Fuck ’em.” Pushing off, he comes around the counter and stands right next to me. “See you for lunch,” he says softly. I watch as he leans in, and I wonder if he is going to kiss me. I close my eyes, then I feel his lips right beside my lips. “Call me if you need anything.” My eyes flutter open, and I just nod. There is nothing more that I trust myself to say. Also, my tongue is in my throat, and I feel that any words that might come out are going to be slurs. After I watch him walk out of the house, I get up and walk to the door, seeing his red taillights drive off. I walk upstairs and pull out a pair of white jeans and a pink top. I’m just walking down the stairs when my phone rings, and I see it’s my mother. I roll my eyes, knowing that she already heard the news, and she lives two towns over.

  “Hello, Mother,” I answer, putting the phone on speaker while I make the bed.

  “Don’t hello me, Savannah,” she says, and I hear her blow out. She’s already smoking. I shake my head. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  I roll my eyes. “Why would I call you, Mother?”

  “Because I’m your mother,” she huffs out, and I want to laugh. She is more like the annoying big sister. There was nothing motherly about my relationship with her.

 

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