by LK Farlow
“T-together?” she asks, her cheeks going rosy.
“I was hopin’.” I keep my tone light, not wanting her to feel pressured.
Wordlessly, Magnolia rises from the bed and drags the shirt she’s wearing over her head, dropping it at her feet.
“Swear to God, Goldilocks, I’ll never get tired of lookin’ at you.”
She bites her lip, though not because she’s nervous. Nah, my girl’s turned the hell on, and I very much intend to do something about it.
I scoot to the edge of the bed and pull her toward me so she’s standing between my legs. I place a kiss to her right hip, and then to her left, my eyes never leaving hers. Magnolia sighs in pleasure at the contact. I skim my nose across the expanse of smooth, tan skin between her hips until I’m just below her belly button. I press an open-mouthed kiss to her soft yet toned stomach, nipping lightly as I pull away.
“C’mon, let’s go get dirty so we can get clean.” I say the words as a joke, but when I look back up at Magnolia, her eyes are glazed over with want and need.
Grabbing her hand, I guide her to the shower. Once the water feels just right, I help her over the ledge of the tub, climbing in right behind her. Under the spray of the hot water, I make good on my promise of getting us dirty, using my hands and my mouth to make her feel so damn good, her bones feel like jelly.
Even though she’s spent, my girl offers to return the favor, but I decline. It’s not because I don’t want her, because shit, I do. Rather, I want her to know she’s worth more to me than her body. I want her to know she always comes first, literally and figuratively.
§
Thirty minutes later, we’re both clean, dressed, and ready to head over to Mateo’s shop. Magnolia’s fairly quiet on the ride over, and I can only assume she’s reflecting on everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours—and Jesus, has it been a lot.
I slide my hand that’s not holding the steering wheel over to her and take her hand in mine. “Everything’s gonna be okay,” I say to her, hoping she believes me.
“Okay, Simon,” she whispers back, as if she’s not quite sure. Can’t say I blame her, especially with the thought of her shit-stain of a husband possibly being in town.
Speaking of him, that’s one more thing we need to deal with, but I don’t want to overwhelm her; one thing at a time—for now, at least.
When we turn into the parking lot, Mateo and his brother, Arrón, are both outside waiting for us. I press a quick kiss to Magnolia’s lips before shutting off the engine and exiting the truck. I rush around to the other side to help her down, pleased as hell she actually waited for me to do so.
Magnolia looks a little nervous as she checks out the two men over my shoulder, and I can see why she’d be a bit intimidated. Mateo and his brother are both big, imposing men. Mateo stands at just under six feet tall, and Arrón is maybe an inch shorter. They both have skin the color of rich toffee and jet-black hair. Arrón looks especially intimidating with his black monochromatic full-sleeve tattoos that creep right out of his collar and up his neck.
“Hello there, buenas tardes,” Mateo calls out, his warm, friendly tone immediately setting Magnolia at ease.
“Hey there,” I say to the brothers. “Always good to see y’all, though I gotta say, I’m not loving the circumstances.”
“Brother, you’re singlehandedly gonna keep me in business.” We all share a laugh then Mateo suggests we step into his office to get out of the sun.
Once inside, he starts laying it on real thick. “Simon, don’t you want to introduce me to this mujer muy hermosa you have with you?”
I nod toward Magnolia, grinning like a fool, because damn straight, she is a very beautiful woman. “Gladly. This here is my girlfriend, Magnolia Ellington. Magnolia, this is Mateo.” I nod toward the elder Reyes brother. “And that’s his baby brother, Arrón,” I say, nodding toward him as well.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Mateo murmurs, a knowing smile plastered across his face.
“Sorry about your ride,” Arrón says to her as he shakes her hand.
“It’s really good to meet y’all,” Magnolia replies in that sweet voice of hers, sounding like an angel sent just for me.
“Now, about your car. Luckily, all we really have to do is replace the back windshield and order four new tires and mount them. So, while it sucks that this happened, it’s a good thing the little estúpido didn’t do any damage to the body. I just need you to sign off on the paperwork.”
“H-how much will that be?” Magnolia asks, worry evident in her tone.
“Insurance will cover the costs, but you do have to pay your deductible.” Mateo drops into his desk chair and rolls over to his computer. He clicks around for a few seconds and announces, “It looks like your deductible is five hundred dollars.”
Magnolia brings a hand to her chest. “F-five hundred?”
“Sí,” Mateo says, “I know that seems like mucho dinero, but when you think about what the out-of-pocket cost would be, you’re coming out on top.”
“I guess you’re r-right,” Magnolia says, tripping over the words. I know she’s worried about the money, but I also know she’ll be annoyed if I swoop in and offer to pay.
“Tell you what, I’m gonna give you the same discount I gave Simon here on his truck the other day—the mujer enamorada discount.”
“The what discount?” Magnolia asks, tilting her head to the side.
Mateo and I exchange a knowing glance as Arrón blurts out, “The woman in love discount.” I rotate my head to look at Magnolia, and sure enough, her cheeks are a pretty red.
“Oh…um…th-thanks?” Her voice rises at the end, making her gratitude seem like a question.
Mateo tips his chin to her. “How do you feel about one hundred today and the rest over the course of four months?”
“So, one hundred a month?” Magnolia asks.
“Sí.”
Magnolia tilts her head to the side and scrunches her eyes closed. Mumbling under her breath, I hear her running the numbers. “Um, yeah, that should w-work. Thank you so much!”
Mateo smiles widely at her, as does his brother. “You’re very welcome. We should have your car ready by Tuesday. That okay?”
“That’s perfect,” Magnolia replies, looking relieved.
Mateo runs her card for the first one hundred and after he locks up, the four of us file out of the shop. I help Magnolia back into my truck and tell her to give me just a few seconds to talk to Mateo.
Walking over, I wrap my right arm around him, giving him a manly hug. “Thanks for coming in on a Sunday for us, brother. Appreciate it.”
“Anything for you, Simon. See you Tuesday.”
They both hit me with one-armed bro hugs as they file past me toward Mateo’s sweet-as-hell GTO.
I climb up into the truck and crank the engine. “Ready to head home, pretty girl?”
“Yeah, Simon, I am.”
With her hand in mine, I make the short drive back to my place.
Chapter Eighteen
SIMON
“Want me to make us some lunch?” Magnolia asks as we turn down my long driveway. “It’s only f-fair since you made breakfast.”
I throw the truck into park and my stomach grumbles. “Lunch sounds good.”
Magnolia points that pretty smile of hers my way, and I swear to God, my blood runs faster through my veins. It’s almost scary how much I’ve come to love this woman, how easily I can see a future with her.
Inside, Magnolia gets straight to work, pulling out a head of lettuce and other fresh produce. I watch almost in awe as she navigates my kitchen as if it’s her own, which really, it is if I have my way and can convince her to move to my bedroom from the guest room—but one thing at a time.
“Mags, I’m gonna run and check the mail. I never got around to checking it yesterday.”
“Okay. Lunch should be ready by the time you’re back.”
I step over to her and press a ling
ering kiss to her plump, lickable lips before turning and walking out the front door.
Usually I make sure to grab the mail when I turn down the driveway on my way home, since it is fairly long, but the weather is mild today, so I decide to walk to the mailbox and back.
A few moments later, I’m flipping open the lid and collecting several letters—bills and junk mostly—and a few catalogs into my hands. In the distance, I hear a vehicle accelerating.
The sound of the racing engine grows louder and louder. I close the lid on the mailbox and look up just in time to see a sleek, black luxury sedan careening toward me. I throw myself back and down, toward the ditch that separates my property from the road, and praise fucking God, the car misses me. My mailbox, however, is not so lucky. The post is splintered right down the middle, as if lightning struck it, and the box itself lands in the ditch next to me.
The car was undeterred by the hit and kept right on going, not even fucking bothering to check to see if I was okay. Unfortunately, everything happened so quickly, I wasn’t able to get the make and model or tag. “FUCK!” I shout, my voice echoing.
In all the commotion, I didn’t see Cash’s truck idling at the end of their driveway. By the time I notice them, he and Myla Rose are both already out of the truck and running over. Judging from the looks on their faces, they must’ve seen the whole thing.
Myla Rose kneels at the edge of the ditch, in full mama-bear mode. “Oh. My. God. Sim! Are you okay?”
Cash is hot on her heels, baby Brody cradled in his arms. He passes him to Myla and quickly hops down into the ditch next to me, where he helps me gather up the mail I dropped. Once it’s all collected, we hike ourselves up and out. “What the hell just happened?” he asks.
“No fucking clue. I heard the engine revving, and when I looked up, they were on me.” I shake my head, disgusted with myself for not being able to get any details about the car other than its color.
“I’d have gone after ’em if Myles and Brody weren’t in the truck.”
“I know you would have. Dammit, I wish I’d have gotten a better look at it.”
“It was an Audi, an A4 I think,” Myla Rose says, holding Brody closer to her chest, pressing a kiss to his head.
Cash reaches out and strokes her cheek then ruffles Brody’s auburn curls that are so much like his mother’s. “Damn, darlin’. Did you see anything else?”
Myla Rose nods. “I don’t remember the tag number, but I know I saw a palm tree with a moon in the center.”
I turn to stone at her words. I know that tag—it’s a white palmetto tree, and more importantly, a South Carolina license plate. “Motherfucker!” I yell, kicking at the ground.
Brody startles at my loud tone and begins crying in his mother’s arms. Any other time she’d have my ass for scaring her son and using such foul language in front of him, but today she seems to be giving me a pass. Instead of lighting into me, she begins murmuring in his ear and bouncing him lightly.
I stare at the two of them, wondering if Magnolia would’ve been the same with her son, had she been given the chance.
The sound of Cash talking breaks me from my dark thoughts. “Hop in the truck and we’ll drive you back up to the house.”
“Thanks,” I say as I climb up into the back seat. Myla Rose comes around and opens the other door, securing Brody in his car seat.
“Hey, little man,” I coo, reaching across the middle seat to him. He instantly grips my index finger with his tiny, pudgy ones, squeezing with all his might—he’s shockingly strong for six months old. He tries to pull my finger into his mouth, but my arm’s not long enough. “You tryin’ to eat me, B?”
“Sorry,” Myla Rose says, glancing at me from the front seat. “He’s teething like crazy and will gnaw on anything he can get into his mouth.” She laughs to herself before continuing. “Just the other day, I found him slobbering on a Milk-Bone.”
“What in the hell’s a Milk-Bone?”
I catch sight of Cash’s smirking grin in the rearview mirror. “It’s a dog treat, dude.”
“Oh, thank God. Wait…y’all have a dog?” I ask, wondering when that happened.
“No,” Cash says at the exact same time Myla Rose says, “Not yet!”
At that, I laugh. “Good luck, Cash. Thanks for the ride back to the house. Y’all wanna stick around?”
“Nah, we gotta get going, but give the police our info.”
“Will do. Y’all be safe.”
Mail in hand, I make my way back into the house, dreading breaking the bad news to Magnolia.
“You g-get lost?” she calls out when I shut the front door behind me.
“No.” I lay the mail on the front table and walk over to her. “We gotta talk, Goldilocks, and you’re not gonna like what I have to say.” Magnolia stares at me with fear in her eyes, mute and unmoving. “C’mon, let’s go sit.”
I lower us both down into my recliner, wanting to keep her close for this conversation. “What’s going on, Simon? You’re sc-scaring me.”
“Gotta ask you something: what did Grant drive?”
Magnolia’s entire body tenses at my question. Her breathing is labored and choppy, the fear snaking through her veins fucking palpable. I swear, if I ever meet that man…I. Will. Kill. Him.
“An Audi,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“Had a feelin’ that was what you were gonna say. Let me guess…black?”
She nods her head up and down. “Why?”
“You were right, pretty girl. He’s here.”
She sucks in a sharp breath and immediately begins hyperventilating. I feel so fucking helpless, watching as the woman I love breaks down right before my very eyes. “Hey,” I whisper in her ear, smoothing her matted hair back from her tear-soaked cheek. “I won’t let him or anyone else hurt you. You’re mine now, and I take care of what’s mine. I’ll keep you safe, always.”
I murmur different variations of the same words until her breathing regulates and her sobs stop. Finally, she looks up at me, her eyes rimmed with red and bloodshot. “Y-you s-s-saw him?”
I debate whether or not to tell her he tried to run me over, but Magnolia and I have built our relationship on honesty and respect, and I’m not gonna stop now. She deserves the truth. “He tried to run me down out by the mailbox. Missed me, destroyed the box, and kept going. Cash and Myla saw it all.”
Like turning on a faucet, Magnolia’s tears start back up and she clings to me, sobbing into the fabric of my shirt. “I’m so s-sorry. So sorry.” Suddenly, she jumps up from my lap and takes off down the hallway. I dash after her, hot on her heels.
“What in the hell are you doing?” I demand when I see her shoving her meager belongings into her duffle bag.
“I-if I’m n-not here, he w-won’t hurt you.”
I watch in disbelief as she struggles to zip the bag, her shaking hands continually jamming the closure. Is this real? Does she really think leaving me is the answer? I can’t keep her safe if she’s not with me.
Panic starts to build and bubble in my chest, its claw gripping my heart and squeezing. “Magnolia.” I’m across the room and to her in seconds, pulling her hands away from the zipper and wrapping her in my arms. “Baby, you can’t leave.”
She nods her head fervently. “I h-have to. I love you so m-much, Simon. I’ll n-never forgive m-myself if anything h-happens to you.” Her words are rushed and choppy, much like my breathing. The thought of her leaving has me spiraling into an abyss.
“Mags…Goldilocks—listen to me, please?” My voice breaks with raw emotion. Maybe that makes me weak—my need for her—but I don’t give a fuck. I have to make her understand. “You’re safer with me. I can protect you from him, and together, we can take his ass down.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I wait for her reply, the silence seeming to stretch out into an eternity. Each second feels like ten minutes, every minute an hour. When she finally replies, the claws around my heart loosen their grip, and I can b
reathe again. “Okay. H-how?”
Chapter Nineteen
MAGNOLIA
The thought of anything happening to Simon—or any of our friends—because of me damn near paralyzes me, but for some reason, I believe him when he says I’m safer with him. I believe we’re better together.
What gives me pause is the fact that we can’t predict the future, and his promise to keep me safe isn’t one he can keep. Things happen—life happens—and it very rarely takes into account promises made.
Still, I’m at least willing to listen to what he has to say, because at the end of the day, leaving him and my life here in Dogwood is the last thing I want.
“For starters, we don’t take his shit lying down,” Simon says vehemently. “First thing we need to do is call the police and report what just happened. After that, we need to fill everyone in on what’s happening.”
“D-do we have to tell them?” I ask, sniffling as my tears begin to dry.
“Yeah, baby, we do. We need to get them in the loop so when you’re not with me, the girls know to be alert. The guys need to know too, in case he tries anything with them to get to you.”
I deflate. Simon’s totally right. Dammit. “Okay, I s-see your point.”
He gives me a warm smile before laying his lips on mine. “No more tears, not over him. He doesn’t deserve any part of you—never did.” I try to return his smile, but my own is weak and frail. “Now, I’m gonna call the police so we can file a report, okay?”
I nod and he pulls his phone from his pocket. I watch as he taps out 911, nerves racing through me, and I can hear the sound of ringing then the muffled voice of the dispatcher.
“Yes, ma’am, I’d like to report an attempted hit-and-run.”
I hear more murmuring from the dispatcher. She almost sounds the way the adults do in Charlie Brown, which makes my smile a little perkier.
Simon rattles off his address and ends the call. Turning, he tosses the phone onto my bed and brings his hand to my face, palming my cheek.
