She let out a shuddery breath as I zipped my pants. “Have you seen your body and your face? I’m definitely the lucky one. And you feed me. Super lucky.”
I wanted so bad to ask her what it meant. Did she still want to go through with the divorce? Because her words sounded like a woman who saw the worth of her man. Instead I grinned and puffed out my chest.
“Hey I sound like a catch. How’d you get so lucky?”
“Pure dumb luck,” she muttered and bent over to lace up her boots.
My smile wouldn’t die, because Magenta wanted me. All of me. So, what was holding her back? I had to find out. “How about we find an orgasm spot and then food?”
“See?” She pointed at her self. “Lucky.” With a wink and a smile, she walked towards the steps that would take us back to the parking lot.
An hour later we were seated at a roadside picnic table with chili dogs, curly fries and onion rings on the table between us. Two sweaty bottles of beer in our hands. One of us, not me, laughing too damn hard. “It’s not that funny, Mags.”
She gasped and smacked the table, still laughing. “What are the odds that every scenic spot for miles was occupied by families, tourist and other lovers? It’s like the universe was cockblocking us.” She continued to laugh and I began to eat, watching her enjoy herself. Today was the first time that she seemed like the woman I met in Vegas. Badass, carefree, fearless and fun.
“At least we’ve still got all those flat surfaces at home.” That only sent her up in another fit of laughter, and though it was at my expense, I enjoyed the sight and the sound of it.
“Look at you with the optimism,” she joked and snagged a curly fry right from my fingers.
“Hey, I’m a man with layers.” And one of those layers reminded me of what I had to do if I had a chance in hell of keeping Magenta with me. “So, your brother doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”
She froze as I knew she would, turning a wary gaze my way. “And?” Everything about her was immediately defensive, from the tilt of her chin to the way she crossed her arms and glared at me.
“And he doesn’t seem like a guy to do something to callous just because you can’t take a hint.” Mason was gruff, and he was a little overprotective, but he didn’t seem cruel.
“So, you’re taking his side?”
“Hell no. I always side with my wife.” I flashed her a sweet smile, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying that men are dumb. We do some pretty reckless things because of it, rarely intentional.” Her brows arched suspiciously. “About five years ago I got caught up fighting a fire in Oregon, we were there for five or six weeks before it was safe.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s your job.”
“Exactly. We worked two or three days straight and taking a break only to eat and sleep a few hours at a time. I was wrecked after that and went with a friend to his place up in Minnesota.” It was embarrassing as hell but I needed her open up to me.
“Is there a point to this?”
“Yeah, I forgot all about the girlfriend I had at the time. I hadn’t called her, or checked in with her during the fire, and then I forgot afterwards too. For two weeks.”
“No. Way.”
I nodded, my face flushed with heat at the look of disbelief on her face. “Yep. She was furious.”
“Wait, you told her you forgot about her?”
“I had to, or else she might’ve thought I was cheating on her.” She’d been plenty pissed off with the truth, and had ended things before the call ended.
Magenta stared, and I waited for her judgment, but got her laughter instead. “Trust me, ‘I forgot about you babe’ is so much worse than any other excuse. Ever. In the history of excuses.”
“She agreed, and I felt bad. My point is that I was careless, but I never meant to hurt her the way I did.”
“Yeah, yeah and maybe Mason didn’t mean it either? Thanks, Freud.”
“Smartass. Is there a reason you assume otherwise?”
Her gaze settled on mine, the gentle breeze blowing wisps of hair across her face before blowing away to reveal resignation. “I was the younger kid, the accident. My parents didn’t have time to parent by then, and a lot of my care fell to Mason. He’s used to taking care of me. Worrying about me and making sure I stay out of trouble.”
“I can totally see you as a little troublemaker.”
She grinned, but her eyes were sad. “Not really a troublemaker, more like curious and unsupervised. But to another kid I’m sure it was pure hell.” Magenta let out a heavy sigh and turned her gaze towards the field on the other side of the road.
“I stayed too long. That’s the problem.”
“Too long?” We’d bonded over our nomadic lifestyles, but I didn’t realize she took it so seriously.
She nodded and bit into an onion ring, taking her time to gather her thoughts. “I got too comfortable here, and look what happened.”
“What happened is you were reunited with your long lost husband.” I flashed a wink and she grinned.
“That was an unexpected. But if Mason doesn’t want me around then I’m gone. This place is too small to avoid him.” She shook her head, lost in thought for a moment before turning her gaze back to me. “Are you still close to your mom?”
My lips spread into a smile. “You remembered.”
“She sounded awesome.”
“She is awesome. We’re still close, but she remarried about a year ago and the new guy has money. So much, that he’s taking her to see all the places around the world she’s ever wanted to see. We talk two, maybe three times a month.”
“Does she know about us?”
I shook my head, noting the sliver of disappointment that dimmed her smile. “Last time I talked to her, I didn’t know we were still married, so all she knows is that I ran into you again.”
She froze. “You told your mother about me after Vegas?”
“I did. I liked you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I told her everything.”
“About the quickie wedding?”
I nodded, and Magenta’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of red.
“Quickie divorce too?”
“Afraid so. She’ll be happy to find out about this strange twist to the story. Mom’s a romantic.”
“So that’s where you get it from,” she accused, but I didn’t miss the affection shining in those big green eyes.
“Me? I’m no romantic.”
“Really? Mr. Waterfall isn’t a romantic?” Magenta leaned forward with a mischievous grin and whispered, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. For a price.”
I mock gasped. “You’d blackmail your own husband?”
“Damn right I would. Luckily, I don’t have to, because you’re not a romantic, right?”
“You’re such a smartass.”
She grinned. “I’ve been told by a very credible source that I have a great ass.”
“Yeah? Stand up and do a twirl, let me double check this credible source.”
“I’m ignoring you while I think of all the ways to get you for that ‘twirl’ comment.”
I had no doubt that was true, and I knew I was really gone because I actually looked forward to whatever she came up with to punish me.
Magenta
I sat inside a far corner booth in Zeke’s Joint with a lager at my side while I waited for Trish. I owed her a huge apology, and since I needed a pretty big favor, I figured the apology was the best place to start.
“Sorry I’m late. Had a little bout of afternoon sickness.” Trish removed her long wrap around sweater and balled it up, tossing it in the corner along with her purse and another bag. “Even though Vivi and Maddie warned me, I wasn’t prepared for morning sickness, or all day sickness as I call it.”
“Zeke has real ginger beer, with real ginger and no booze. Drink up,” I slid the glass towards her with a terrified frown. I could handle drunk sick friends, but I had my doubts about pregnancy sickness.
“Tha
nk you, Mags. Such a sweetheart.” She took a long pull from her straw, sucking down half the glass in a few sips. “Okay, what’s up?”
“I wanted to apologize to you, Trish. You didn’t deserve the way me and Mason acted over dinner. I appreciate what you were trying to do, really.”
“But you want me to butt out?”
“Yes. No. Shit, I don’t know. I don’t want to be forced into anything until I’m ready. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah it does,” Trish assured me, and I let my shoulders sag with relief. “That’s why friends are so annoying, because they are put here for the sole purpose of making you do things you’re too scared to do.”
“So, you won’t stop?”
Trish shook her head, blond ponytail bobbling so cheerfully I wanted to tug on it just for laughs. “We’re friends and sisters, I’m afraid to say it, but it’s only going to get worse from here.”
“Kill me now.”
Trish laughed, ordered loaded nachos from a passing waitress, and sipped her drink. “That’d be too easy. Now tell me why we’re really here.”
“Are we good?”
“Mags we’re family. We’re always good. Now, spill.”
“You’re spending too much time with my brother, his bossiness is rubbing off on you.”
“It’s not the only thing that rubs-,”
“Nope. Stop. I don’t wanna hear it!” She laughed again and took another sip from her drink, looking a little pale. I glanced around for those nachos before Trish tossed her cookies. “I want to have a birthday party, or dinner for Davis, and I was hoping you’d help me with the cooking?” I hated asking people for favors. In my experience they always cashed them in at double the original going rate. “You can even invite Vivi and Maddie with the husbands if you want.”
She rolled her eyes. “How kind of you to invite your friends.”
“Right? I considered a sex coupon book, just to avoid this whole people thing.” But the truth was I wanted Davis to fit in here and this party would help.
“Now that’s something to consider,” Trish said and rubbed her chin with a salacious look on her face. “How many coupons?”
“I’m not helping you screw my brother, Trish.”
“That’s okay, I don’t need any help. Clearly we get the job done with out you.” She snickered as she rubbed her belly, ducking her head to avoid the napkin I sent flying at her head. “So, this party?”
“It’ll be at our place, so really, all I need is help with the food.”
“Oooh, our place,” she teased and I rolled my eyes. I realized I should have expected the teasing, but it surprised me every single time.
“What else should I call it?”
The waitress set the nachos down and I swear Trish nearly bit off her arm in her rush to get to the steamy pile of meat and veggies. “Don’t downplay this, Mags. Enjoy it. Embrace it. You like Davis and that’s fine. Hell, it’s more than fine, he’s great. And you must really like him if you married him, unless you were drunk?”
“Stone cold sober,” I admitted, smiling as I thought about that day. I’d never felt like that, so reckless and free when I was with Davis and his boyish grin. “We knew what we were doing.”
“So you do like him. Why are you running from it?”
“Because Trish, we don’t all excel at relationships. If you recall, Mason almost lost you because the O’Malley family has a crappy track record when it comes to love.”
“Almost being the keyword. He got his head out of his sexy ass just in time to make things right, and now we’re blissfully happy.” I couldn’t deny that, and even if I wanted to, Trish glowed with love and her eyes practically sparkled.
“And I’m happy for you both, but I’ve got more issues than my brother and I’m just no good at relationships. Not one of them have ever worked out, Trish. Ever.”
“So what? None of them ever work, until they do.”
She didn’t get it. Trish had been incredibly close to her Aunt Becca who’d raised her, of course she wouldn’t understand. “But it’s not just romantic relationships. Platonic, familial you name it, and I’m not good at it.”
“That’s crap and you know it. Once I got past thinking you were his sexy badass girlfriend, you were a big part of why I fell in love with Mason. Any man who treats his kid sister the way he treats you, the way he loves you is a good man.”
“I never said he wasn’t.” That’s why it hurt so much. Mason was a stand up guy, and he’d only go to such lengths if he were truly fed up with me.
Trish glared at me, pointing a chipped pink forefinger at me. “No, but you’re acting like he’s some asshole who doesn’t care how he gets rid of you as long as you get gone.”
She was right, and Davis had said almost the same thing. “It wasn’t all about Mason, Trish. It’s my own crap that I have to deal with. I’m still not thrilled with him, but it wasn’t all his fault.” Like Davis had said, Mason hadn’t meant to be careless. That didn’t change the pain I felt, and I hadn’t figured out how to get over it yet.
Trish looked up at me, blue eyes big and hopeful. She grabbed another nacho and ate it with the gusto only a pregnant woman could, moaning loudly and doing a little chair dance as she did. “Does this mean you’re staying in Belle Musique and staying married to Davis?”
“I can’t stay married to Davis, which means I can’t stay here. I like him too much to hurt him, and that’s what will happen. Eventually.” It always did.
“You don’t know that, Mags. You can’t possibly know that.”
I wasn’t psychic, but I did have the benefit of hindsight, and a good memory. “Not for sure, no. But based on history it’s a likely outcome.”
“Likely outcome? This is life, Mags, not some computer game.” Trish’s demeanor changed, softened and she sighed again, but this time it wasn’t a ‘why does Magenta have to be so difficult sigh’, and that was a relief. “Don’t leave Mags. Please. I love having you around, and with a baby on the way, there’s no way I can fly all over the world just to hang with you.”
I couldn’t imagine missing out on watching Mason’s kid grow up, and teaching him or her all the bad stuff he wouldn’t dare. But I couldn’t fool myself into believing that would happen. Even when I got over my own crap with my brother, there was still Davis. Sweet, beautiful Davis who didn’t deserve the havoc I’d wreak on his life. I didn’t tell Trish all that, though.
“It’s not like the meddlers in town are going to make it easy. I haven’t heard from anyone about anything, and I’m pretty sure they hacked my email. And my phone. And my social media.” How in the hell a bunch of scheming senior citizens could do all that, I had no clue, just a healthy fear of their powers.
Trish laughed. “God, I’m grateful to those women right now. You can’t go, I won’t let you. But I will help you with your husband’s birthday party.”
With another roll of my eyes and a smile, finished my beer and sighed. “Thanks, Trish.”
“Anytime, Mags. Drop by the shop tomorrow and we can talk specifics.”
I nodded and paid the tab, ordering another ginger beer for Trish before leaving. There was a lull in town right now, everyone was either at the diner or doing something more important, which meant this was the perfect opportunity to ambush one of the town’s lawyers.
So I wandered Main St. for a full thirty minutes hoping to accidentally bump into one of them, only to come up empty. Then about a block away I spotted Delilah McInnis in a red pantsuit that looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine rather than a small town lawyer’s office. I took one step forward and froze.
Then, as if I’d never seen her at all, my feet turned in the opposite direction and hurried back to work.
Like a coward.
Davis
“Crawford you got a visitor!”
There was just an hour left on my shift, and I doubted Magenta had popped in wearing nothing but a trench coat to wish me a happy birthday. Even though that would be
a great way to end another two day shift.
I made my way towards the big red doors that were open to the public who often stopped by with food, phone numbers and other offers. Today I was hoping for food.
“Aunt Mae.” I grinned when I spotted her, looking like a birthday cake herself in her silky white dress with confetti colored dots all around the hem and neckline. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Happy birthday young man. I’ve brought you enough food that you and Magenta can spend a full day in bed making beautiful little babies.” She shoved a pie plate at me that smelled suspiciously like peanut butter and then another, warmer casserole dish. “Peanut butter pie and cornbread chili casserole. Enjoy.” She kissed my cheek, rubbed off her hot pink lipstick and left the station as quickly as she’d arrived.
That was weird. I never told Aunt Mae my birthday, and while I didn’t believe the woman was connected to the spirit world as she claimed, I also didn’t think she’d broken into the town records to find out when to bring me a casserole. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past her.
“What’s all that?” Scott stood and walked over to the kitchen, peeling back the aluminum foil on the casserole dish.
“Food. For my birthday.”
“Oh yeah? Happy birthday, man.”
“Thanks.”
“Yoohoo, where are you Davis Crawford?” The sound of the old woman’s voice had Scott laughing and I snatched the pie from his hand.
“Dick. In here Mrs. Crinkle, I mean Betty.” The stylish older woman strolled in looking like she’d just come from a day at the country club in her lavender pants and matching blouse, pearls in her ears and not one single curl out of place.
“Such a handsome boy. A handsome birthday boy,” she corrected. “I come bearing gifts. Shepherd’s pie and my famous chocolate fudge cake. Some people call it The Babymaker.” She winked at her over the top hint and sauntered off.
Fifteen minutes later there were two more desserts and three more casserole dishes on the firehouse countertop.
“How in the hell do they know it’s my birthday?”
Accidentally On Purpose: An Accidental Marriage Boxset Page 56
