Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
MAGNOLIA
B ane was on my mind all night. Every time I shut my eyes, I remembered what it felt like to be in his arms. The weight of his body pressing into mine. The feel of his mouth working mine.
I had been kissed before. Many times. But not by Alexander Bane.
His mouth on mine was magic. He licked and bit at my lips, nipping the bottom one and soothing it with his glorious tongue. The lips that could spout such venom were soft and full against mine. He explored me, his tongue seeking every part of my mouth. He went deep and passionate. Light and sweet. Dipping, teasing, touching. Taking, sucking, demanding. His embrace was tight, and his hand wound around my hair felt divine. We were a flame, drawing heat from each other. I never wanted it to end.
Until we were exposed to a harsh reality. He was right to draw back. To put an end to what was happening. The office was still open, people coming and going.
It wasn’t the time for us to be coming with each other.
But it would happen. I knew it as sure as I knew my own name.
Which I totally forgot when his mouth was on mine.
I was up early, unable to sleep. I baked more muffins and made sandwiches. I boarded the bus, absently digging through my purse for a mint. My fingers encountered a small bag, and I recalled the bridal shower I had been at the previous week. All the guests had been given one. The bus was fairly empty and no one was behind me or beside me, so I opened the bag, peeking in. It held some candy, a gift certificate to an adult shop, a tiny bottle of lube, and a lipstick. Curious, I took off the top, realizing too late it was a mini vibrator. I giggled as I put it back in the bag. I dug in the bottom, my eyes going wide when I saw the candies were actually rainbow-colored condoms. One was labeled “glow-in-the-dark.” The others were pink, purple, and green, and I dropped them back into the bag with another laugh.
Maybe I would be able to use them one day. Soon.
I walked into the office, already hearing the printer going. I knew Bane wanted this done today, and although I hadn’t told him I was coming, I wanted to help. I had stopped and gotten coffee, and after tapping on his door, I went in.
“Morning,” I said with a smile.
He looked up from the printer, surprised. “Myers,” he said with a quizzical smile. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I thought I could help. I brought coffee.”
“Muffins?” he asked, his voice sounding hopeful.
I held up the bag. “Yes.”
He crossed over, stopping short of me. He lifted his arm then dropped it, but he smiled. “Come in, then.”
We had coffee, and he ate his muffin with no remarks about store-bought this time. “What’s in the other bag?” he asked.
“Sandwiches.”
“You’ve already been to the deli?” he questioned.
“No. I make the sandwiches.”
He stopped eating, frowning at me.
“You make the sandwiches,” he repeated. “The ones I eat every day?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Deli meat has all sorts of nitrates and preservatives. My dad’s doctor told me how bad they are for you. All that stuff is linked to Alzheimer’s and other diseases. I roast the meat, and I make all his sandwiches.” I shrugged. “And I make yours.”
He studied me. “That’s what all the meat in your freezer is for?”
“Yes.”
“How are you getting paid for these sandwiches?”
“I’m not. Really, it’s not a problem. I make them for my dad. I make one for myself every day. One more is no big deal.”
He stared, not speaking. Then he shook his head. “It is to me.”
Our eyes met and held, his gaze warm and direct. I had never seen his eyes so blue. They were always intense, but the way he looked at me, they were lit up. A burning cerulean, so clear, they were bottomless. I felt the warmth flow between us, circling and strong.
It took everything in me to drop my gaze as I picked up my coffee. He cleared his throat.
“I see you’re prepared for lumberjack-hunting again,” he said, a teasing note to his voice.
I laughed. “Whatever, Bane.”
“Alex,” he said quietly. “When we’re alone, it’s Alex.” He paused. “Magnolia.”
“Maggie.”
“Maggie,” he repeated. “It suits you, but so does Magnolia. I rather like it. It’s unique—like you.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t used to a kinder Bane. So I smiled, making him grin.
“You’re blushing.”
I could feel the heat in my cheeks. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“I’d stop, but you’re very pretty when you blush.”
“I think we need to get to work.”
That got me another smile. “Okay…Magnolia.”
BANE
I had hoped she would show up today. It had taken all my willpower not to call her last night. Not to show up unannounced at her place and continue what we started. Even to have the chance to ask her if she wanted to continue.
When I looked up and saw her in the doorway, something in my chest flexed. Eased. Her shy smile and her sunny greeting made me smile. I walked closer, desperate to touch her, then thought better of it. We had to talk first.
Her quiet confession of making the sandwiches herself caught me off guard. I didn’t think anyone had ever made me something. Not even Sally—and she had been with me for years. No one had ever expressed worries over what I was consuming. I found it touching. I would make sure Myers was paid well for her thoughtfulness, even though I knew that wasn’t why she did it.
There was something different between us today. Something tangible and real. I felt it. I knew she did as well from the high color that infused her cheeks.
She confounded me. I didn’t like sweet, shy, adorable, mouthy, or accident-prone.
She was all of the above.
And yet, I liked her a lot.
More than I should.
I glanced over, watching her remove a finished tree from the printer. I took it from her, placing it in the model. We worked silently for a while, the piece almost complete. I studied it, looking at it from different angles, pursing my lips.
“Write down what I do,” I instructed. “Every change, no matter how small.”
She grabbed her ever-present notebook and listed what I told her as I moved a few shrubs, then stood back. “Something. I need something.”
“Um,” she breathed.
I looked at her. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Tell me,” I demanded.
“I don’t know much about trees or landscaping.”
“But you know what you like. What pleases you visually. Tell me.”
“This corner.” She tapped an area just off a path. “It’s on a hill, right?”
“Yes.”
“A couple of lovely shade trees and some flowers with a seating place to read would be perfect here.” She paused. “I think.”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s what it needs. It’s off-balance here.”
I headed to the computer, bringing up the design. Myers disappeared, returning a few moments later with more coffee. She went back to her desk, working as I touched up the design. I sat back with a pleased nod. It was what was missing. Something simple yet perfect. I glanced up, seeing Myers at her desk.
Magnolia.
That summed her up. Simple, but perfect. The yin to my yang.
And I had no idea what to do about it.
It didn’t take long to print the additions. Magnolia watched over the printer as I updated the final design, and I sat back, pleased with the project.
“How have your designs evolved?” she asked.
I went to the concept model, tracing my finger back to a building behind the main hotel. “Everything you see here is self-sufficient. There is no freshwater system for keeping the gardens blooming. The gray water from the resort feeds all the plants on the grounds. All recycled. The system we put in will keep everything alive and fed. It’s designed specifically for this purpose. It’s gaining more and more popularity.”
“All the used water?”
“No—not kitchen or toilets. Nothing where bacteria can build or harsh chemicals are used. The system filters out the impurities from the other areas, and it is run using solar panels—another cost-saver and good for the environment.”
“And you design all that?”
I nodded. “I don’t just dig in the dirt, as my mother thinks. I spent years earning a lot of degrees and gaining knowledge. I keep up with all the current innovations.”
She frowned. “Is that what she thinks?”
“My grandfather, her father, was a lawyer. My father was as well until he died. My mother has her degree, although she no longer practices. Her current husband is a lawyer. And so is my stepbrother. He was and is the golden child as well. That is what is acceptable. Being a landscape architect is not. I haven’t lived up to my potential, according to my mother. The fact is that I never will.”
“Oh,” she said with a frown.
“I tried.” I barked out a laugh. “I was forced to try. I found it dull and boring. I have been fascinated by plants and how things grow for as long as I can remember. My mother hated it when I would dig in the ground or spend hours with my nose in a book about horticulture. My father thought it was amusing. He was very different from my mother. Quiet. Unassuming. He always told her to relax, that it was simply a phase.”
She settled on the back of the sofa, looking at me. “But it wasn’t.”
I had no idea why I was telling her this. I never discussed my personal life. Ever.
“No. It was my passion, and I think my dad understood. He was the only one. He died when I was young. I had huge fights with my mother that grew worse after my dad died. He was a successful lawyer, yet still a gentle man, from what I recall of him. She always had visions of grandeur. Of being more than we were. I remember disagreements between them. She wanted him to spend his inheritance, but he refused.” I laughed dryly. “It wasn’t a huge amount, and I think my father knew it would be gone in a hurry. He was saving the money for their future. When he died, she tried to get her hands on the money and failed because my father left it in trust for me, the way his father had left it for him. She wasn’t happy, which, coming from her, was the norm, really. I think she thought life with my father would be different than it was. More…opulent. When she met Doug, she saw that opportunity and grabbed it. She married too fast after he died. Changed her name. Wanted me to change mine, which I refused to do. That was another mark against me on a very long list.” I ran a hand over my face. “Her refusal to accept what I wanted to do, the only thing that brought me any sort of happiness, was another one of the many arguments that tore us apart.”
“You don’t get along at all.”
“No. We strike sparks. She hates my job. Hates my single status. Hates I’m not in the headlines the way my stepbrother or stepfather are.”
“But your reputation…” she protested.
I shook my head. “Isn’t enough. I am never enough for her.”
“That’s why you avoid her.”
I sighed, running a hand over my hair and pushing it away from my face. “We argue constantly. Always have. We’re like chalk and cheese. Nothing is enough. Right now, all of her friends have weddings they are planning for their children. She wants me to give her that, so she is constantly trying to set me up on dates with the ‘right’ sort of woman. One who will make me see sense . I refuse. We argue. She leaves.” I lifted an eyebrow. “And the cycle begins again. She shows up, tells me everything I’m doing wrong, how much of a disappointment I am, a letdown to the family, we argue…” I lifted a shoulder. “She is all about reputation. Presenting a united front. Upper-class BS I want nothing to do with.”
She grimaced. “No wonder she was so horrified by my story of why you couldn’t see her.”
I began to chuckle, and I moved in front of her, resting my arms on the back of the sofa, caging her in. “I would have given anything to see her face when you said that, Myers. I can only imagine the appalled expression.”
Myers frowned then contorted her face into a mock scream of terror. Then she grinned. “Kinda like that.”
I laughed again, lowering my head and letting the amusement escape. Good God, she was funny. I lifted my head, meeting her dark eyes. They were dancing in amusement.
“You are too much,” I whispered, feeling the heat begin to build between us again. I pushed a long strand of hair off her face, twisting it in my fingers. I lifted it to my nose, inhaling. “You smell so good.”
Her breathing picked up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I eased closer. “The first day you were in the office, I wondered how you’d smell here.” I traced the delicate skin of her neck, making her shiver. “Here.” I touched the lobe of her ear. “Here,” I added softly, letting my finger ghost down to the vee of her shirt. “Especially here.”
She licked her lips, her tongue pink and wet. “Why don’t you find out?”
I glanced toward the door.
“The outer office is locked. There’s no one else here.” She met my eyes. “Just us.”
“I won’t kiss you while you’re wearing another man’s shirt. I don’t care who it belongs to.”
She rolled her shoulders, the plaid shirt falling away. She tugged the sleeves off, exposing her tight tank top. Her hard nipples pressed through the soft material.
I slid my hand up her arm, feeling the goose bumps that erupted on her skin. I made my way to her neck, brushing the thick hair to one side. I lowered my head to the soft skin of her nape, inhaling.
“Oh, Magnolia,” I murmured, my voice raspy. “It’s even better than I thought.”
Then I claimed her mouth.