Weather the Storm Page 9

  “Teenagers—what can you do?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. I can’t imagine raising a teenage girl by myself; he’s fucking Superman in my mind, though Desi is a good kid—stubborn, but good.

  “We’re on our way. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  I end the call and relay our conversation to Magnolia, since she only heard my side of it. Once the truck is in gear, I take her left hand in mine, stroking the top of her wrist gently with my thumb the entire drive.

  About two minutes in, Magnolia’s exhaustion gets the better of her and she passes out cold with her head against my shoulder. Not wanting to wake her, I make the turn into my driveway as slowly as possible to keep the jostling to a minimum.

  I throw the truck in park and lift her into my arms, cradling her. I keep my footsteps light and my gait even, shifting her just a bit to get the front door unlocked. I head down the hall toward her bedroom, and right as I go to set her on the bed, she blinks awake and throws her arms around my neck. A small whimper passes her lips and my soul aches for her.

  “Y-your bed?” Magnolia rasps out, and I’m helpless to tell her no.

  Chapter Fifteen

  SIMON

  Changing course, I carry Magnolia to my room. Since the covers are already kicked down to the foot of the bed, I softly deposit her right in the center so she can choose the side she sleeps on.

  “Do you want me to run to your room and grab you something to sleep in?”

  “I’ll just t-take one of your sh-shirts, if that’s okay with y-you?”

  “That’s more than okay with me.” I walk to my dresser and grab her a soft, worn, cotton T-shirt that I’ve had forever. “Here ya go. You can get changed while I go grab your stuff from the truck and lock up.”

  “Thanks, Simon.” Her voice is so damn soft, I hardly hear her. I let my stare linger, making sure she’s okay—as okay as she can be, given the circumstances.

  Keys in hand, I walk out to my truck and grab her shit before hitting the lock button. Back inside, I hang my keys and deposit her purse and bag onto the couch. I take my time heading back to my room in case she needs a few minutes to herself. After double-checking the locks and grabbing a sip of water, I finally make my way back to her.

  Despite the heavy events of the night, my cheeks split into a wide grin when I see Magnolia’s sleeping form snuggled up on the side of the bed I usually sleep on. There’s something so right about her being in my bed. Hell, if I could, I’d never let her leave it, even if all we ever did in it was hold one another.

  Flicking open the button of my jeans, I shuck them off, along with my shirt and socks. I do, however, throw on a pair of sweatpants, as I’m not sure Magnolia would appreciate me hopping into bed with her while clad in only my boxer briefs.

  The second my head hits the pillow, she turns over to face me, seeking out my comfort in her sleep. She wriggles around until her head is resting on my chest with her arm thrown over my middle.

  Fuck. Lying here with her wrapped around me feels like everything—and I mean everything—I’ve ever wanted. Watching my friends fall in love has been nothing short of amazing, but deep down I was slightly jealous of their connections. Here, now, I feel like I’m floating on cloud fucking nine.

  The sound of Magnolia’s deep breathing fills the room, and slowly, I drift off to sleep.

  §

  MAGNOLIA

  I don’t remember falling asleep. I wanted so badly to wait for Simon to climb into bed beside me, to talk to him about everything that’s happened, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to do so.

  However, I’m starting to think waking up next to Simon is far better than watching him get into bed with me. Since I was already asleep, we skipped over the awkwardness and apparently jumped right to cuddling.

  Now, here I am with my head nestled into that space between his shoulder and his neck with his chest acting as a pillow. Our arms are wrapped tightly around one another, and one of my legs is tucked between his.

  I tilt my chin and press a soft, hesitant kiss to Simon’s skin. The contact causes him to stir a bit in his sleep. Feeling braver, I drop my lips to his chest again, firmer this time.

  Simon grunts. “Feels so good, Magnolia.”

  Oh crap! He’s awake. But, he seems to like it…

  “Don’t gotta stop,” he says, his voice thick and rough with sleep.

  His words spur me on, and I press closer to him, gasping when his now very obvious hardness brushes against my leg. The knowledge that I can turn him on like that makes butterflies take flight, swooping down low in my belly.

  Simon looks down at me and smiles before capturing my lips in a scorching kiss. His tongue begs for entry, licking at the seam of my lips, and I immediately open, the contact making us both groan in pleasure.

  Simon rolls to his back, somehow maneuvering us so that I’m now straddling him. Slowly, with his eyes never leaving mine, he rolls his hips, eliciting a strangled moan from me. “You like that?” he asks, sounding cocky but sincere all at once.

  “So much,” I pant, desperate for more. Luckily, Simon doesn’t keep me waiting.

  “You trust me?” There’s a vulnerability to his voice that makes me shiver. I nod, and he flips us so he’s hovering over me. “I want to see you.”

  I gulp. My nerves war with my libido, but the sight of Simon poised above me, looking like the best thing that’s ever happened to me has me sitting up and pulling my borrowed shirt over my head.

  “Oh, goddamn.” He bites his fist at the sight of my naked breasts. “So, so perfect,” he murmurs as he tests their weight in his hands. “I want to see all of you.”

  I nod and he moves back, trailing his fingers down my sides as he goes until he reaches the seam of my panties. He hooks his fingers into them on each side and slowly drags them down my legs. He crawls back up my body and seals his lips to mine, drowning me with his kisses.

  Simon slides his hand down my body, pausing to grip my hip before trailing down to my inner thigh. I gasp at the feeling of his hand so, so close to where I need him the most.

  “Let me make you feel good?” His words are choppy, as if he’s barely able to restrain himself.

  Nodding, I lift my hips.

  “Need the words, Magnolia.”

  “Yes, Simon, please—” The words have barely left my lips when I feel Simon shift his hand higher. “Wait!” My words stop him cold.

  “What? Are you okay?” I expect him to be angry, but instead he sounds concerned.

  “I-I’m fine. It’s…it’s just…I w-want to feel you too.”

  Simon stares at me for a beat, and I’m so nervous he’ll reject me. When he moves off of me, I try my hardest not to let my emotions show, but then when he kicks off his sweats and underwear, I realize I read him wrong. He’s not rejecting me; he’s giving me everything he knows I need.

  Once he’s situated back between my legs, he resumes kissing me like his life depends on it. I rock against him, desperate for friction, and Simon responds, lining us up just right.

  “D-do you want me?” I ask, sounding small and nervous.

  “So much,” he grits out.

  “I’m yours, Simon.”

  Simon reaches toward his nightstand and stops. “I don’t have any protection.”

  I take a deep breath in then release it. “It’s okay. We’re okay. I…I can’t have kids.”

  I’m almost expecting him to run from the room, but my Simon is full of surprises. “You trust me that much?”

  “I really do,” I say as a single, solitary tear slips down my cheek.

  Simon pushes into me so slowly it’s almost painful. My need for this man is painful. “So right. So, so right.” He breathes the words against my lips, his eyes never leaving mine.

  Simon makes love to me with his body, his words, his eyes, and when we’re both sated and spent, he rolls to his side and pulls me into him. “You’re so damn perfect, Magnolia. I’m not sure I deserve you, but I swear to
God, I’ll never stop trying to be good enough for you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  SIMON

  Twenty minutes later, and Magnolia and I are still wrapped in my comforter, wound up in one another. I drag the fingertips of my left hand up and down the column of her spine, the pads of my fingers just barely brushing her skin.

  “You okay, Magnolia?”

  She looks up at me, eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask, worried she regrets what just happened between us.

  “I…I have so m-many emotions r-running through me right now, I’m not even sure which way is up.”

  “Talk to me, okay? Don’t shut me out.” I press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the calming lavender scent of her hair.

  “I won’t shut you out, I promise.”

  “Good.” I unwrap myself from around her, and she whines at the loss of contact. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” I slip my sweats back on and toss Magnolia the shirt she slept in before padding down the hall to the kitchen.

  I quickly put on a pot of coffee and throw together a quick breakfast consisting of fresh fruit and cheesy eggs. “Where’s that damn tray,” I mumble to myself, opening and closing cabinets looking for the serving tray Myla Rose insisted I needed. As a last-ditch effort, I check the cabinet over the fridge. “Found it!” I exclaim, victorious.

  I pile our food and mugs of coffee onto the tray, taking slow, measured steps back down the hall as to not slosh any coffee over the rims of the mugs. “Hope you’re hungry,” I say as I step back into the bedroom.

  “Is this…did you do this for me?” Magnolia asks, pressing a hand to her chest.

  “Certainly did, Goldilocks.”

  Those tears she’d been trying to keep at bay finally spill over, and I worry I’ve somehow screwed up. “Oh, S-Simon. This is the n-nicest thing anyone has ever d-done for me.”

  “Get used to it, pretty girl, because as long as you’re mine, it’s just a way of life. Taking care of you is as natural as breathing.”

  “I’m yours?” she asks, hope coloring her tone.

  “You wanna be mine?”

  “D-don’t you know b-better than to answer a question with a question?” I quirk my brow at her, and she laughs then replies, “Yeah, Simon, I wanna be yours.”

  “Exactly what I was hopin’ you’d say. Now, let’s eat.”

  We dig into our food, and the eggs cause Magnolia to moan much the same way I cause her to moan. “Good, right?”

  “Oh my God, s-so good.”

  “Not as good as yours, but thanks.” I have a lot I want us to talk about this morning, but I know she’ll need her energy for the conversation, so I decide to wait until we’re both fed and caffeinated.

  Once both our bellies are full, I place our plates back on the tray and set it down on the dresser—the dishes can wait.

  “Magnolia.” I tuck her long hair back behind her ear, brushing my fingers over her cheeks. “We need to talk.”

  Her eyes become guarded and weary, and I hate it. “We…we do?”

  “We do.” I crawl up next to her on the bed and draw her close. “Not about us, but about everything that has happened and everything that is happening.”

  “Yeah, o-okay.”

  “I gotta ask…do you really think your husband had anything to do with your car?”

  “My gut says yes, but I don’t know. D-doesn’t that seem farfetched?”

  “Hard for me to say, but if you truly think it was him, then I believe you. I need you to know that. Also need you to know I’ll protect you from him—and anyone else who means you harm.”

  Magnolia melts into me, and I love it.

  “Next thing: y’all are still married?” I grit my teeth in anticipation of her reply. The thought of her being his in any way has my blood rushing so loudly, I swear I can hear it roaring, like a raging river.

  “Yes,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

  “Explain,” I prompt, careful to keep my tone calm and even.

  “As y-you know, I r-r-ran. Never had the m-money to file for divorce, though I doubt I w-would’ve been b-brave enough even if I had. He’s…Grant’s r-rich and powerful. He has c-connections and…”

  “And what? It’s okay, you can tell me anything.”

  “I was scared he w-would hunt me d-down and drag me h-home.”

  Fire ignites in my chest at the thought. “Never gonna let that happen.”

  “Promise?”

  “Swear it, Goldilocks.”

  §

  MAGNOLIA

  When Simon said we needed to talk, I was momentarily petrified. A million thoughts raced through my mind all at once. The most prevalent: Did he decide I’m too much work? That I’m not worth the hassle?

  Truly, I should’ve known better. That’s not the kind of man Simon McAllister is, not to mention, he’s so very right—there’re a lot of things we need to talk about, even though some of them will hurt.

  “This next question, Magnolia—please know your answer won’t change anything about the way I feel for you.”

  I twine my fingers together in my lap and worry my lip between my teeth; I know what he’s about to ask me.

  “You said you can’t have children?”

  “Um…wow, this is r-r-really hard to talk about.”

  “Take your time, pretty girl. I’m yours, either way.”

  I release my own hands and take hold of his, hoping to glean some of his strength. “L-like I t-told you, Grant used to b-beat on me.” Simon tips his chin down to his chest, his blue stare boring into mine. “He…he wanted a son something f-fierce. The m-minute we said ‘I do,’ he was t-talking about babies, w-wanted to start trying right away.

  “It t-took a while for me to conceive, and then about ten weeks in, I mis-miscarried. Grant was so, so, so mad. So, we tried a-again. Another miscarriage. And again.” I pause to brush away the moisture clinging to my cheeks, but it’s no use; fresh tears just keep falling. “Grant was furious. He took me to a specialist, who told him there was n-no real r-reason for me to not be able to carry a baby, said it was probably stress-induced, which just served to enrage him even more. A-according to him, I didn’t have anything to be stressed about, you know, because getting the snot beat out of me daily certainly wasn’t upsetting.”

  I let out a deprecating laugh; my God, I hate that monster. He not only robbed me of years of my life, but also of my ability to create life.

  “After that, he p-put me on a schedule and a diet. He tr-tracked my fertility, my b-basal temperature, all of that. He researched the best times and days and p-positions, and f-finally, six months later, we got a p-positive test.”

  Simon kisses the corner of my eye. “I feel like the worst is yet to come, and my heart fucking hurts for you.”

  I offer him a strained smile in return. “The pregnancy stuck this time, made it into the second trimester. Grant was so happy, and for a while, things were good. He even took me to a dinner party one night. One of his b-business associates struck up a con-conversation with me, and Grant saw red. He practically dragged me home.

  “He was sh-shouting c-crazy stuff, accusing me of cheating—said the bastard in my belly wasn’t his.” My tears are a steady stream now, my voice shaky. I glance to Simon, and he’s crying almost as hard as I am, distraught over the things I’m telling him. “He th-threw me down the st-stairs. I prayed he’d leave me alone, but he stomped down after me like he was possessed by the devil himself, reared back and kicked me again and again, t-told me he wasn’t gonna raise the abomination in my belly.”

  Simon pulls me up, cocoons me in his arms, and kisses my face all over, tasting my tears.

  “It was his, Simon, I s-swear. Until you, I’d only ever been with him.”

  “I know, Magnolia, I know.”

  “I lost my baby, Simon. I saw him on the ultrasound screen just the week before and heard his heartbeat. It was a b-boy. He k-killed my baby.” My soft cries
have turned to full-blown wails as I mourn the loss of my son. “When he beat me that time, he damaged my o-ovaries, and now…” My words fall away, allowing him to fill in the rest.

  Simon swallows roughly, his posture as rigid as a steel post. “Two things,” he grinds out through clenched teeth. “One, if I ever meet that sack of shit, I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna put him down like the dog he is. Two, I love you regardless.”

  We both freeze.

  “You…you love me?” I choke on the question, petrified to hear his answer.

  “Yeah, Goldilocks, I do.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  SIMON

  “H-how?” Magnolia asks, looking up at me with wide eyes.

  “What do you mean how?”

  Magnolia looks down at her unpolished nails, staring at them like they’re the most interesting thing in the universe. “I mean, w-wouldn’t you rather be with s-someone who can g-give you children?”

  I tip her chin up so her eyes are on mine. “I love you, not what you can give me, not what you can or can’t do for me. I love who you are—your strength, your kindness, your thoughtfulness, your humor, your sass—when you let it show—but most of all, I love your heart. You’re so fucking magnificent, Magnolia, and you don’t even see it. You’re good and pure and honest, and that’s so rare. If I have any say at all, I’m never letting you go.”

  “Promise?” She utters the word, breathy and low, her body leaning toward me as if my answer is the most important thing she’ll ever hear.

  “Promise.”

  Magnolia launches herself at me, kissing me all over—my face, my chest, everywhere. “Slow down, pretty girl. We have time.”

  “I’m just s-so happy, Simon.”

  “I am too, believe me, but we need to get ready at some point so we can go down and talk to Mateo about your car.”

  She deflates a little at the mention of it. Luckily, I know just the way to perk her back up. “Let’s get showered?”