Magnolia Summer

by Jaci Burton

  “When’s the Summer Festival?” she asked, hardly able to believe she’d even consider doing it.

  “Next month,” Katie replied. “You’re reconsidering, aren’t you? You never could resist me, you know.”

  Jordan laughed. Funny how she could so easily slip into the old routines. In fact, she would still be here then, having committed to staying for at least a month. It would be good practice for the day she’d own her own theater. And, she had to admit, The Music Man was one of her favorites.

  Looking at the expectant faces in the room, she relented. “Sure, I’d love to help.”

  Cheers resounded in the room, and those in the room she didn’t know came up to introduce themselves.

  The door opened and a tall figure entered. “Am I late?”

  Jordan was surprised to see Tony Darnell, Sam’s partner at TNT Construction. He was apparently equally surprised to see Jordan and to find out she was their new director.

  “Well that role should fit you well, shouldn’t it, honey?” he said with a wink.

  “What role do you play in this musical, Tony?”

  “The lead, of course,” he said, charming her with his boyish grin.

  Jordan shook her head. It didn’t surprise her that half the town would be involved in this production in one way or another. It was a mystery how people made a living around here, and still managed to do the extra things they always found time to do.

  George explained, “We meet three times a week in the evening and then on Saturdays and Sundays for rehearsals. We just happened to be here today because Betsy left and we had to have an emergency meeting to figure out what to do. Must be fate that brought you to our door at this particular time, Jordan. We’re sure glad you’re here.”

  She didn’t believe in fate, but she was still happy to have stumbled into an opportunity to do what she loved, even for only a short time. It would help combat boredom and would also keep her mind off Sam, where it had been lingering way too frequently since she arrived.

  The rest of the day was spent with the cast and crew going over their roles. She was going to take the script and set design plan home and make some notes. Since tomorrow was Saturday, the cast was going to meet at her house to go over the script, so she had to get through it tonight.

  Jordan had to admit, having people at the house would put a buffer between her and Sam, something she desperately needed. There were already getting to be too many close encounters, and although firm in her resolve, she wasn’t Joan of Arc. Never having had great sex and being in such close proximity to someone she knew could probably give it to her was trouble in the making.

  How sad to realize that the last great sex she’d experienced had been with one of her many vibrators.

  She really needed a man.

  No, she didn’t, actually. Her mother had felt the need for a man in her life at all times. And when she couldn’t find any in Magnolia, she’d taken off, leaving her child behind.

  Jordan would never need a man so badly she’d go hunting for one.

  Shaking off thoughts of men and sex, specifically one man in particular, she turned her attention back to the play. Admittedly, she was excited about producing and directing the musical, even if it was a small-town event. And when she could get back to New York and start her own theater, all her dreams would come true. She wouldn’t need love, or a man, to make her happy.

  Many women found fulfillment in their careers instead of a relationship. She wasn’t her mother, and didn’t yearn for the same things her mother had. Jordan was content to have her work. She didn’t need love, and she definitely didn’t need Sam Tanner.

  Chapter Four

  Jordan was busily thinking of production notes, scenery and set design when she pulled into the drive in front of her house.

  Mounds of paperwork threatened to topple out of her arms as she struggled her way up the porch steps. She didn’t notice Sam standing with his back to her in front of the door until she ran right into him, dropping everything she was holding.

  “Whoa. You driving the bus that just ran over me?” He steadied her with his hands, and as she bent down to retrieve her papers knelt beside her to help.

  “I’m…I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I was thinking of something else and trying to juggle these papers and I didn’t even see you there. God, what a mess,” she said, looking at the jumbled pile of papers covering the front porch. A slight breeze was blowing and some of the papers were scattering off the porch and into the yard. “Oh no, I have to get those!”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you round those up.” The two of them set off running after papers like a couple of butterfly hunters, no more getting close to one than a gust of wind would pick it up and blow it ten feet further away than it was before. They laughed as they chased papers around the front yard like a couple of kids.

  When they finally had everything picked up, they collapsed on the front porch swing and Sam helped her organize the mess. They were both out of breath and still laughing.

  Sam took one of the papers he had picked up and glanced at it. “Production notes?”

  Jordan smiled. “Yes, I seem to have stumbled into a part-time job. I’m going to direct the musical for the summer festival.”

  “Guess your arrival was good timing, then. Tony told me that Betsy had run off and they were searching for a new director.”

  “Well I guess that’s me, then.”

  His expression grew serious. “Jordan, this new community theater is a big deal to the people of Magnolia. Don’t take it lightly just because it isn’t Broadway.”

  The comment hurt more than she wanted to admit. “Just because I live in a large city doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a small-town production. I grew up here, Sam. I know how important the small things are when you aren’t given the opportunity to be exposed to the big things.”

  Sam held up his hands. “Hey, don’t get your panties in a bunch. I was just stating a fact. You don’t like small towns or anything that goes with them. Just didn’t think you’d want to waste your time on a meaningless production like the one Magnolia is putting on.”

  Maybe she hadn’t wanted to get involved in the beginning, but the idea had become more and more appealing as the day wore on. But did she project that kind of attitude toward the town? Like she thought what happened here was beneath her? “I don’t think it’s meaningless at all. Is that how you see me?”

  Responding with a nonchalant shrug, he said, “I can only tell you my own impressions. Don’t really know what everyone else thinks.”

  She pushed back the gnawing hurt growling in her stomach. “How dare you assume to know anything about me? Who are you to pass judgment? We hardly know each other.”

  “Did I hit a sore spot? Maybe you’re revealing more about your true nature than you’d like to.”

  Her idea was to reveal nothing. Just hang in Magnolia long enough to get the house sold, and then get out. No attachments, no friendships, nothing.

  “I’m not revealing anything.” Her irritation grew at the thought he would make up his mind about who she was and what she thought without ever really knowing her.

  “That’s your problem, Jordan. You don’t let anyone in, so people make up their own stories. Lots of folks have their opinions about you, about why you left town and didn’t come back. Most think it’s because you were looking for glitz and glamour. Sure can’t find that in a place like Magnolia.”

  “Glitz and glamour my ass,” she replied, angry at the typical small-town mindset. “Most folks don’t want to know anything about me. The busybodies and gossips make up their own stories about me, just like they did about my mother, and just like they did about you. They think what they want to think, what’s juicy and dirty and scandalous, not what’s true.”

  A smile curved his bottom lip. “What stories about me? Now you’ve got me curious. Were they good ones?”

  It figured Sam wasn’t the least bit concerned about any gossip spread about him.
Men labeled as bad boys or from the wrong side of the tracks looked on it as a badge of honor, not a criticism. Women were called trash for doing the same things that men did.

  Narrow-minded double standard. Another reason she hated living here.

  “So? What have you heard about me?”

  She shook her head, fighting a smile at his interest. “They just said you got into some trouble and had to leave town. Nothing specific, just enough to get the town gossips’ curiosity going, and the grapevine took care of the rest.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’d heard you had been arrested for drug dealing. Another story said you were involved in organized crime, and had to go into the Witness Protection program because you were testifying against a mob boss.”

  Sam paused, then threw back his head and laughed out loud. “No shit? Witness Protection?” His laughter rolled on until Jordan couldn’t help but let her smile run free.

  “Well? Is any of it true?”

  He choked out a last chuckle and shook his head. “Nope.”

  “See what I mean? Typically, gossip is not rooted in fact at all, but fantasy. Most people don’t really know anything about me, or why I left or what I’ve been doing.”

  “Then tell me.”

  The seriousness of his statement unnerved her. “Tell you what?”

  “Tell me about you, Jordan. I’d like to know why you left, what you’ve been doing, what your dreams are.”

  “Why would you be interested?” she blurted, wishing immediately that she hadn’t.

  “Because I’m interested in you. I want to know about you.” A soft breeze whipped a curl across her cheek, and Sam swept it away with his fingertips.

  She shivered at the contact.

  “Interested how?”

  He smiled. “You can take the frightened bunny look out of your eyes. Not that kind of interested.”

  Jordan relaxed. Then paused a moment to think. Suddenly she wondered why Sam wasn’t “that kind of interested”. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t repulsive, could carry on a decent conversation and occasionally even showed a sense of humor. So why wasn’t Sam interested in her? In that way.

  “Why not?”

  Sam looked confused. “Why not what?”

  “Why aren’t you interested in me that way?”

  “In what way?”

  “Sam! You know what way I’m referring to. Stop confusing me.”

  “I’m confusing you? Are you sure it’s not the other way around?”

  “Answer my question!” Geez, the man was frustrating.

  “What question?”

  “Oh my God you are so dense! You know the question!”

  He laughed then, and when she thought about it for a second, she did too.

  “Seriously, I am interested. In knowing everything about you. You intrigue me, and sometimes you confuse me, but I’m still interested.”

  “Confuse you about what?”

  “About your reasons for leaving this town. I’ve been where you are. Thinking I could find my life outside of Magnolia. It didn’t work for me. I’m curious how it’s working for you.”

  His turquoise gaze was probing and curious, and also much too hot and sexy for her liking.

  Is this what her mother experienced? The desire to have a man show interest in her, someone to care about what she did? She wanted to tell him, wanted him to know about her. And she wanted to know about him. But finding out about Sam Tanner would mean she cared about him, and she most certainly did not. She wouldn’t allow herself to.

  She was too comfortable. Sitting next to Sam on the porch swing felt natural, as if they’d been doing it for years. The longer she sat and talked with him, the more she’d want to know about him, want him to know about her. The more she’d come to just purely want him in the physical sense.

  All were dangerous. They signaled interest in a relationship. The way her body had been feeling lately, so in tune to him, she knew it only meant trouble. It was time to escape.

  “I’d love to sit around here all day and talk about me, me, me, but I have things to do.” She rose and gathered her papers, looking down at Sam, who continued to leisurely swing. “And am I not paying you to do something around here, or do you just intend to take up my time and do nothing?”

  “Why don’t you take a look at what I’ve done, and then tell me if you feel like you’re getting your money’s worth.”

  When she first got home all the papers had scattered, so she hadn’t seen what Sam had done that day. Now that he pointed it out, she could see all the step and porch boards that were rotted or cracked had been replaced, the front door was painted, as was the entire porch.

  He’d done a hell of a lot of work. And she hadn’t been aware of any of it.

  Had she noticed earlier, she would have seen the paint and dirt stains all over Sam’s shirt and shorts. He was filthy, sweaty, dusty…and absolutely gorgeous. Sweat glistened off his muscular arms and shoulders, and a smudge of dirt on his cheek did nothing to detract from his classically handsome features.

  Looking at him did strange things to her—created aches in areas of her body that had never ached before. And to top it all off, he had to act curious about her, wanting her to talk about herself and her life, as if he was really interested. No, she wasn’t going to fall for that line.

  It was best to keep things businesslike between them, no matter what her body and her heart wanted.

  “Yes, I can see you did a fine job today,” she replied, purposely adding a brusque tone to her voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do. You can just clean up your stuff and take off whenever you’re done for the day.” Effectively dismissing him with a turn away, she hurried inside, shutting the door quickly behind her.

  Leaning against the inside of the front door, she felt shame wash over her. Shrewish behavior wasn’t like her at all. Sam had worked hard on the house, and she should have noticed. Should have shown her appreciation. Instead she insulted him and his work.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  Not that she needed to look far for the answer. Being around him unnerved her, made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Her only thought had been escape. To run. Just like Sam said she always did when she was around him. And he was right. She was still running.

  Frustrated and angry at both Sam and herself, she ran upstairs and sat on the bed. Pent-up anxiety swirled through her, too many emotions she’d rather not recognize churning her insides out.

  Relax, Jordan. Quit thinking so much.

  Right. Like that would ever happen.

  Only one thing was going to calm her down right now. She needed release, the kind that would only come from sex.

  Since that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, she’d have to rely on her vibrators.

  Nothing like whirling gizmos and jellied toys as her only way of sexual release. But at least she could think about Sam, about what could have been between them, in the safety of her own bedroom.

  He’d never know that her sexual fantasies revolved around him, that she imagined him fucking her when she fucked her vibrator.

  Just the thought had her pussy quivering.

  With a sigh of eager anticipation, she laid on the bed and reached into her nightstand drawer.

  * * * * *

  Sam climbed the scaffold at the side of the house to retrieve the paint and tools, too pissed off to even think straight.

  Dismissed him. She had just walked away and dismissed him.

  Fine. Tomorrow he’d get a crew in here to finish the job. He was busy as hell at work and things were piling up. He didn’t need this kind of shit from a woman.

  Especially a woman who didn’t mean a goddamned thing to him.

  When he reached the scaffold platform, he grabbed for the paintbrush he’d left near the bedroom window ledge.

  But when he glanced in the open window, all thoughts of making a quick escape fled from his mind.

  Jordan lay a
cross the bed on her back, a pink jelly vibrator in her hand. She’d obviously shed her clothing and slipped on a short silken robe that was the same color as her fiery hair. Her eyes were closed, her hair spread around her like a willowy flame, her lips parted and her hand gently caressing her breasts through the robe.

  He hardened instantly and nearly dropped to his knees. Jordan had been the fantasy of his youth—intelligent, beautiful, cool and remote, she’d been everything he wanted and didn’t think he’d ever have.

  Many a night as a teen he’d jacked off with her face and budding body in his mind, imagining what it would be like to see her naked, to touch her soft skin and taste her sweet mouth.

  Funny, in his reality he’d always thought her too aloof to enjoy sex.

  He had a feeling he was about to be proven dead wrong about that assumption.

  Jordan turned on the vibrator and pulled the bottom of her robe aside. Her position on the bed afforded him a perfect view of her pussy. A strip of red curls covered her mound, and her swollen lips were bare. Glistening juices sparkled in the light shining into the room and onto the bed.

  She was hot, swollen and wet. He licked his lips, almost able to imagine her taste and wishing that he could slip in the window and bury his face in her cunt until she screamed and flooded his mouth with her sweet cream.

  But he couldn’t do that. As it was he already felt like a voyeur, a dirty old man about to watch a woman’s most private moment. And damned if he was going to budge from his spot on the scaffold.

  Instead, he palmed his throbbing cock through his shorts and watched intently as she teased her clit and pussy lips with the vibrator. It whirred softly, the only sound in the quiet room.

  Until she moaned. God, he loved it when a woman made noises. His cock jerked against his palm, demanding attention. Holding onto the handrail of the scaffold, he took a look around the property.

  Secluded, trees barring view of the bedroom and his location, and away from the long drive. No one could see him.

  He slipped the front of his shorts down under his balls and took out his cock, squeezing it hard, once again focusing his attention on Jordan.