The Merriest Magnolia

by Michelle Major

  “Get dressed,” he commanded then took a step away from her.

  A yawn escaped her as she glanced at the pile of clothes. “I’m not sure I have the energy for that. Apparently, bawling your eyes out is exhausting. I guess that’s why I’ve avoided it for so long.”

  He chuckled. “In general, I find feelings overrated and taxing.” He picked up the shirt and pulled it over her head. A part of her wanted to protest. She was a grown woman and obviously capable of dressing herself. But she allowed him to help, grateful for a few minutes of not having to take care of herself, even for such a simple task.

  He didn’t break eye contact with her as she put one arm and then the other into the shirt, allowing the towel to drop to the floor as the T-shirt grazed her thighs.

  “Shorts next,” he said as a parent might to a child.

  Heat flooded her cheeks as he knelt in front of her and she stepped into the soft cotton. “I can manage,” she whispered but didn’t shrug away his touch. The truth was she felt too damn tired to move a muscle. Even if she wanted to make an escape at this point, she didn’t think she had the energy to make it out the door.

  As if sensing that she was on the verge of collapse, Dylan scooped her into his arms as he straightened, one arm supporting her back and the other behind her knees.

  “I’m making a fool of myself,” she said miserably. “I was supposed to come back for a booty call.”

  “Is that all you were interested in?” Dylan asked, sounding entertained as he moved into the bedroom.

  “My only interest at the moment is sleeping.”

  “I can help with that.” He bent and pulled back the comforter and top sheet on his big bed.

  Carrie sighed as she sank against the soft mattress.

  “Sleep as long as you want,” he told her, tucking the covers around her. “I’ll take the couch.”

  “No.”

  He gave her a funny look. “I know you aren’t up for anything but sleep, and I want you to feel safe with me. I promise I don’t care why you’re here, Carrie. I’m glad you are. No pressure.”

  “It’s a huge bed.” She yawned again. “Just get in, Dylan. I’m too tired to argue right now.”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Bossy,” he murmured then turned off the bedside lamp.

  A moment later she felt the mattress sag on the opposite side of the bed.

  She was still embarrassed and more than a little disappointed at how this night had turned out. Then Dylan moved closer, tucking his body behind her and draping an arm around her waist. “Is this okay?” he asked.

  “More than okay.” Enveloped in his heat, she drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  THREE-ELEVEN IN the morning according to the clock on the unfamiliar nightstand. Carrie blinked several times to clear her head. This wasn’t her bedroom.

  A rumbling breath from behind her had her alert in an instant. Memories from earlier flooded her mind. Her mental and physical exhaustion, the tender way Dylan had taken care of her. She turned carefully on the mattress, trying not to disturb him.

  Not that she had much to worry about. Dylan lay on his back, one arm bent above his head. In the soft moonlight she could see his chest rise and fall in rhythmic breaths. It had been over a decade since she’d seen his body. He was both familiar and not. In the ensuing years since he’d left Magnolia, Dylan Scott had become a man.

  His shoulders had broadened, and lean muscles defined his arms, even in sleep. It seemed almost unfair for someone to have that golden tone of skin in winter, like he’d come back to town after years of living in the tropics instead of the big city. A fine sprinkling of wiry hair covered his chest.

  “Hey.”

  Her gaze flicked to his face, where a small smile curved his full lips and his eyes danced with amusement in the soft glow of the light that remained on in the nearby bathroom.

  “I was checking you out,” she admitted with a grimace.

  “I noticed.” He turned onto his side, propping himself on one elbow. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Embarrassed at how I was earlier. I should have gone home.”

  “No.” He reached out and traced one finger along her cheek and jaw. “I’m glad you were with me.” His smile widened a touch. “Although you snore.”

  She sniffed. “I don’t snore.”

  “It’s cute.”

  “No wonder you’re single.” She grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand away from her. “Your moves are awful.” But the moment she started to flip off the covers, he moved toward her. More quickly than she would have thought for a guy who’d just been woken from a deep sleep. She was suddenly pinned to the bed with Dylan over her, his warm body pressed against hers in a way that had every inch of her coming fully awake.

  “Awful?” he asked with a deep chuckle. “That sounds like a challenge.”

  Carrie licked her suddenly dry lips. “And are you up for the challenge?” she asked, barely recognizing her own voice.

  “You decide,” he whispered and then claimed her mouth. His tongue melded with hers as the kiss became hot and demanding. His hand pushed up under her shirt, and she gasped as his fingers grazed the underside of her breast, sending quivers spiraling through her.

  He urged her to lift her back and pulled the shirt over her head. Gazing up at him, she forgot about being self-conscious.

  All thoughts other than Dylan disappeared from her mind. There was no worry over the estate or the town or what was left of her family’s birthright. Dylan might not be her forever, but right now she wanted anything he could give.

  She wanted to take her pleasure and dismiss all the stress of real life for a while. In this bed Carrie didn’t have to be dutiful or helpful or anything but a woman with needs.

  Needs she had no doubt this man could more than fulfill, despite her teasing.

  She wanted to feel alive.

  Without another thought, she hitched up her hips and shimmied out of his boxers.

  Dylan swore under his breath as he took in her naked body, his gaze filled with appreciation. She’d never felt more beautiful.

  Then he lowered his mouth to one breast and then the other, licking and sucking until she moaned and arched under him. Her fingers grazed along the tight muscles of his back. It felt as though all of her nerve endings were standing upright and singing his praises, and not just because it had been far too long since a man had touched Carrie in this way.

  No one had ever made her feel the way Dylan did.

  She tugged on the waistband on his boxer briefs, and he growled low in his throat when she pushed them down over his hips. The evidence of his desire for her was like its own form of foreplay.

  Lifting away from her for a moment, he took his boxers the rest of the way off then grabbed a condom wrapper from the nightstand drawer.

  “Expecting company in your new house?” she asked as he tore open the packet.

  “Hoping,” he said with a sexy half smile, “that you might stop by for—” he kissed her like he’d been saving up his need for a decade “—anything.”

  Her breath hitched at the vulnerability in his tone. This wasn’t exactly the Dylan she remembered. That boy had been at once cocky and sweet, patient with her inexperience but sure of his own control.

  The man who covered her body with his felt different. Not just grown-up or world-weary, although she knew he was both of those things. This Dylan had experienced loss and tragedy; he’d made himself into a success, but she somehow understood it had come with a price.

  The same way the choices she’d made had changed her from an innocent girl into the woman she’d become. So even if they returned to being enemies again tomorrow or at the end of the holiday season, for now she wasn’t ready to let him go.

  “Are we good?” he asked, poised at her body’s entrance. “I o
nly want this if it’s what you want, too.”

  “More than anything,” she told him honestly and the way his face lit with relief and gratitude made her heart hurt just the tiniest bit.

  Then he pushed into her, filling her body and her senses until their current reality vanished. All that was left was need and desire. They moved together like their bodies were made for each other, pressure building within her and around her until she wasn’t sure where she ended and Dylan began. Carrie rode the blissful wave until she couldn’t hold out any longer and her release crested over her.

  She held on to Dylan, whispering his name and taking him over the edge with her.

  It was everything she’d remembered and more. So much more, which she knew could only mean one thing. It would hurt so much worse when it ended.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “CARRIE!”

  Carrie stepped away from where she stood in front of the easel, pulling the earbud from her ear and pausing the music. “What’s wrong?” She looked between Meredith and Avery, who were staring at her from the doorway of the studio. “What’s going on?”

  Meredith thumped the heel of her palm against her forehead. “You haven’t been kidnapped and held captive in some crazy basement bunker.”

  “Are you disappointed?” Carrie asked with a surprised laugh.

  Avery stepped forward. “We’ve been calling and texting for the past hour. You never showed up for dinner.”

  Carrie blinked then glanced at her watch. “Oh, shoot. I lost track of the time.” She’d made plans to meet her sisters, along with two members of the town council to discuss next steps for Magnolia’s tourism plan after the first of the year.

  “Tonight was important.” Avery’s soft admonishment made the hair on the back of Carrie’s neck stand on end. “Everyone was expecting you. We need to capitalize on the success of the festival activities if we’re going to stop Dylan.”

  “I realize that.” She put down the paintbrush gripped tightly between her fingers and wiped her hands on a towel. Letting people down was not something in Carrie’s usual repertoire. Normally her life was based on a solid underpinning of how she could help, what she could do better and her need to go above and beyond with the way she contributed to the community. She should feel guiltier about forgetting tonight and worrying her sisters and her friends.

  She glanced toward the canvas that engulfed her attention and pride swelled inside her chest, despite knowing she’d disappointed the people who mattered to her. Tonight she’d also taken care of herself, and that mattered.

  She mattered.

  “Does this have something to do with Dylan Scott?” Meredith demanded.

  “Excuse me?”

  Her petite younger sister put her hands on her slim hips. “Has he gotten to you? Convinced you that the festival and what comes next in Magnolia isn’t as important as his plan? You know if we fail at this, it sets him up to prove our vision for the future as a legitimate tourist destination is just a pipe dream. He’ll gather support and momentum to turn this place into the North Carolina coast’s version of Monte Carlo or some other snobby playground for the wealthy. He’s using you to ruin everything we’ve worked for.”

  “He’s using me?” Heat crept up Carrie’s spine. Since the previous weekend, she’d spent every night in Dylan’s bed, drawn by their connection and the way she seemed to come alive in his arms. He’d invited her for dinner tomorrow night, a real date, he’d called it. At the time the gesture had seemed sweet. He wanted her to know she meant more than just a secret tryst. Which was exactly the reason she’d only visited under the cover of darkness, once Sam and most of the rest of the town had drifted off to sleep.

  The invitation flattered her, but she had her priorities straight. The physical pleasure of being with him didn’t change the fact that they were on opposite sides of Magnolia’s future. She almost never lost sight of her goal.

  “You know what I mean,” Meredith added, her tone softer, as if she realized she’d overstepped some invisible line.

  “We don’t want you to forget what’s important.” Avery smiled. “This town is everything to you.”

  “Not everything.” Carrie shook her head. “For too long it’s been everything. I’m dedicated to Magnolia’s success, but maybe I want something for myself, as well.” She pointed a finger at Avery. “Isn’t that what you and Dylan discussed? That I need to focus on myself.”

  Avery sucked in a breath. “He told you that?”

  Meredith nudged Avery’s arm. “You talked about Care-bear with that jerk face?”

  “In a moment of weakness.”

  “No.” Carrie took another step forward. “You were right. You and Dylan both. For too long I’ve tamped down my own desires. It doesn’t change my commitment to Magnolia, but I need to consider myself, as well.” She blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry I missed dinner and the meeting tonight, but I had an idea for a new painting and...” She gestured the two of them forward. “Would you like to see?”

  Nerves ratcheted through her as the two of them approached. Carrie backed up, and her sisters joined her and then turned to view the canvas, a landscape scene of Magnolia Beach. Carrie had returned there early in the morning yesterday to see the sunrise, inspired by the promise of a new day dawning on the horizon.

  “Wow,” Meredith murmured.

  “The colors of the sky are amazing.” Avery reached out and squeezed Carrie’s fingers. “I’m blown away.”

  Carrie couldn’t describe her style based on the techniques she’d learned from formal classes and watching her father through the years, but dipping the paintbrush in the vibrant palette of acrylic paint she’d chosen unleashed something inside her. All the emotions she’d tamped down for so many years had burst forth onto the canvas.

  “This is different than the way you normally paint,” Avery said, her tone filled with astonishment.

  “I wasn’t trying for a huge departure.” Carrie laughed softly. “Honestly, so much of what I’ve painted lately has been owls and flowers and holiday scenes from the classes. Not to mention the festival backdrops. I’m not even sure what my own style is at this point.”

  Meredith raised her delicate brows. “I think you can safely call it ‘lots of mind-blowing sex.’”

  Carrie felt her mouth drop open. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes at her sister before turning her attention back to the canvas. “There’s nothing sexual in that painting.”

  “Maybe not overtly,” Avery murmured. “But it’s definitely sensual.”

  “It’s a landscape.” Carrie stepped forward and then turned, using her body to block the canvas. It felt suddenly personal for the other women to view it. “Not even a Georgia O’Keeffe type flower.”

  Meredith and Avery shared a look and then grinned at Carrie. “You didn’t deny the great sex,” Meredith pointed out.

  Carrie closed her eyes for a moment and tried not to groan out loud. She hadn’t talked to anyone about the change in her relationship with Dylan. If she could even call it a relationship. More like a mutual scratching of an itch.

  Whatever she called the arrangement, it worked for her on a lot of levels. Her body felt satiated in a manner that made her want to purr with pleasure at the thought of all the ways Dylan had touched her. She continued to ignore the faint warning bells going off in the vicinity of her heart that told her she was in too deep with him. She knew better than to trust her heart.

  Carrie had been a dutiful daughter, a faithful friend and a devoted member of the Magnolia community. She was everyone’s go-to for help, known far and wide as dependable, practical and boring as all get out.

  Being with Dylan was freeing, her own little act of rebellion from what was expected of her. That didn’t mean she was ready to share the details of her personal life with anyone, even her sisters. Somehow speaking about
it would make things more real and prevent her from keeping her emotions and hopes in perspective.

  “It’s not a big deal,” she told them, trying and probably failing in the attempt not to sound defensive.

  “Taking up with Dylan again is a huge deal,” Meredith countered. “The biggest.”

  Avery put a hand on Meredith’s shoulder. “She looks happy.”

  Meredith sniffed. “Delirious from great sex and happy aren’t the same thing.”

  “Is it more than sex?” Avery asked gently. “Do you have feelings for him?”

  “It’s been a few days. He and I want different things from life.” Carrie shook her head. “I haven’t lost sight of the goal,” she repeated. “I know his plan isn’t right for Magnolia.”

  “Are you sleeping with him to butter him up in order to win?” Meredith tapped a finger on her chin. “I wouldn’t have expected it of you, but it’s not a bad idea.”

  “Of course that’s not what I’m doing.”

  “You’re painting,” Avery remarked.

  Meredith turned to the polished blonde. “Does Dylan get credit for that?”

  “No, but it’s a good thing if he’s helping her realize she has to take care of herself in addition to everyone else.”

  “You’re talking about me like I’m not standing here.”

  “True,” Meredith said with a nod. Carrie wasn’t sure who she was talking to. “Maybe he’s not all bad other than the business about wanting to change the very fabric of the town we love.”

  “Enough.” Carrie put her brushes in the Mason jars of mineral spirits, and then stalked to the doorway before looking over her shoulder. “I missed dinner, and talking to the two of you is giving me a headache.”

  “She’s hangry,” Avery said to Meredith.

  “Happens to the best of us,” Meredith agreed.

  Carrie wanted to shout in frustration, but a laugh bubbled up inside her instead. It was crazy to think that she’d spent most of her life as an only child. At this point she couldn’t imagine not having her sisters to frustrate, annoy, entertain and support her.