Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
MAGNOLIA
I was anxious by the time Bane texted me to say he was on the way. When he knocked on the door a short time later, I let him in, my nerves kicking into high gear.
“Hi,” I said.
He stepped in. “Ready?”
“Are you sure you want me to come stay with you?”
He studied me for a moment, then came closer, cupping my cheek. “Totally.”
“Are you, ah, is everything okay?”
He pulled me against him, threading his fingers through my hair and kissing me. I gasped at the intensity of his caress, his tongue entering my mouth with no hesitation and taking control. He kissed me until I was breathless, grasping his shoulders for support. His erection was trapped between us, and he ground it against me.
“Doesn’t that feel as if everything is okay?” he murmured into my ear. “I want you, Myers. I want you in my space. My bed. If you don’t want that, tell me and I’ll go.”
“I do. I was worried…”
“I’m fine,” he assured me with a droll wink. “And I’ve learned my lesson. No condoms, no sneak attacks.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He stroked my face. “No apologies needed. It’s done. Now, we move forward. And I want to enjoy a couple of days with you, just being Alex and Magnolia. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Great. I’ll get your bag, and we’ll start.”
BANE
We held hands in the car, Myers—Magnolia—staring out the window as we slowly drove to my condo in the heavy late-afternoon Friday traffic. She was quiet, seemingly lost in thought. I stared at her profile, noting the delicate point of her chin, how tiny her earlobes were. The little mass of freckles behind the one turned in my direction. I would have to investigate both thoroughly when we were alone.
“Amazing how long it takes to get from my place to yours, even though we’re really not that far apart,” she mused. “I could probably power walk it faster.”
“As long as your lumberjack outfit wasn’t tripping you up.”
She giggle-snorted. “Whatever, Bane.”
I tugged her from the window, wrapping my arm around her and kissing her sweet mouth. “Alex,” I admonished. “We’re Alex and Magnolia.”
“Alex,” she repeated, her voice breathless.
I bent and captured her mouth, kissing her until we were both dizzy. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to kiss her enough. Her mouth was a temptation I couldn’t resist. She was a temptation I didn’t want to resist anymore.
Darryl pulled up to the building, clearing his throat. “Have a good weekend, sir.”
I slid from the car, taking Magnolia’s hand and grabbing her bag. “See you Monday.”
“Of course.”
In the condo, Magnolia looked around, still curious. I carried her bag to the bedroom, changing into more casual attire. I found her in the kitchen, peeking into cupboards. I sat on one of the stools, watching her.
“Not much to cook with,” she observed.
“I didn’t plan on making you cook. Where would you like to go for dinner?” I asked.
“Pizza?” she asked hopefully.
“Really?”
“I love pizza, and it’s a treat I don’t get very often.”
“Pizza it is. There is a little place a few blocks away I like.”
“Okay.”
She came closer, smiling at me. “I like your outfit. You look very handsome. Casual but stylish.”
I chuckled. “I can dress down. I don’t always wear a suit.”
She frowned. “I was sure you slept in one.”
I tugged her close. “You slept with me, Magnolia. You know the only suit I wear to bed is my birthday one.”
“Oh, I thought that was a special occasion. I assumed you got up in the morning looking perfect and ready for the day.”
I laughed and swatted her ass. “Enough of your sass. Let’s go to dinner.”
Enzo’s was busy, but we got a table near the back. I ordered a bottle of wine, and we argued over pizza toppings, deciding to get two smaller ones rather than one large. I added a salad, and as we waited for dinner, we chatted about various things.
“Will you go see your father on Sunday?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“May I go with you?”
She frowned, took a sip of her wine, then met my eyes. “You really want to do that?”
I took her hand that had begun to fidget with the edge of the tablecloth. I lifted it to my mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers. “You start tearing at things with your fingers when you’re nervous.”
“I always have. I used to tear my napkins under the table or shred a little piece of paper under my desk at school to help me stay calm.”
“Why does it make you nervous about me meeting your dad?”
“He might be having an off day. I don’t want you to think badly of him. He’s truly a lovely man.”
The love she had for her father tugged at something in my chest. I could hear her pain beneath her words.
“How about I take you, and if he isn’t up to it, I’ll go do something else while you visit. If it’s an okay day, I’ll come in.”
Her eyes lit up. “That would be great.”
The pizza arrived, and we dove into dinner. I laughed at her combo, teasing her about a total salt fest on her sausage, bacon, olives, and extra cheese pizza. She informed me my goat cheese, ham, and asparagus was snooty. We both tried a slice of the other’s pizza, and I grudgingly had to admit hers was better. It tasted like pizza. The one I ordered was delicious but, as she pointed out, a great appetizer, not pizza. She let me finish hers off, deciding mine would make a great snack for later. We shared some tiramisu and sipped lattes, enjoying the cozy ambiance.
She took a sip and I grinned. “You have some foam by your mouth.”
She swiped at it, missing it entirely. I leaned closer, wrapping my hand around her neck and pulling her to my mouth. I kissed away the foam, then took her mouth, tasting her latte and the sweet dessert. I sat back, shaking my head in wonder.
“Thank you,” I breathed out.
“For being a messy coffee drinker?”
“No. For being you.” I lifted my hands, indicating the restaurant. “For this.”
“I don’t follow.”
I took a sip of latte and offered her the last mouthful of tiramisu. After I fed it to her, I licked the spoon and set it aside. I sighed as I gathered my thoughts.
“The last woman I dated was one of my mother’s ‘suggestions.’ This woman was supposedly ‘perfect for me.’ She was, in fact, the exact opposite.”
“How?” Magnolia asked, cupping her face, with her elbow on the table and looking genuinely curious. “I thought I’d be your exact opposite.”
“You are—which makes you perfect.”
“Explain.”
“This woman was a socialite. She wanted the lifestyle that comes with it. She had a job in her father’s company. An office she’d been given that she went into on occasion to say she worked, when the truth was, she spent all her time on social media, posting about her hair and clothing. The first dinner I took her to, she suggested the restaurant. The food was passable at best to me, what little of it there was on the plate. But she could be seen , and she made sure she was. That we were seen. The bill came and it was over five hundred bucks, and I was still starving.”
“Ah.”
“All she talked about was herself. What she liked. Wanted. Thought. I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. I thought she was nervous.” I shook my head as I laughed. “I was so wrong.”
“What happened?”
“I saw her three times over two weeks. Each restaurant was progressively more expensive. More ‘visible.’ Acceptable by her standards. By the third date, she was basically telling people we were getting engaged. I was planning on telling her I was breaking it off. All she wanted was my money and my name. Not me. I could have been anyone. In fact, I was quite certain, if she had to, she couldn’t pick me out of a lineup.”
Magnolia rolled her eyes. “That’s a stretch. You are far too good-looking for anyone not to notice, Alex.”
“She didn’t,” I insisted. “She was too busy on her phone, not eating the specks of food they put on the plate, visiting other tables, dropping my name, to bother trying to get to know me.”
Magnolia frowned. “What did she do when you broke it off?”
“She told me it was a big mistake. That we could help each other. I could give her the lifestyle she wanted, and she would make sure, despite my lack of charm, that I would be one of the A-listers. We could be a power couple.” I drained my latte. “She wasn’t happy when I told her I preferred to be on my own and unplugged from power.”
“Oh dear,” Magnolia murmured.
“You’re so easy, Magnolia,” I murmured. “You talk to me. Listen to me. You want to eat pizza and relax. You don’t fill my head with mundane details about other people’s lives and how I should be emulating them. You let me be me.” I tilted my head, studying her. “And I like the Alex I am when I’m with you.”
“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I leaned close and kissed her. “I’ll try harder.”
I kissed her again. “Ready to go home?”
“Yes.”
We strolled toward the condo, Magnolia tucked tight to my side. I carried the pizza box in my other hand. It was dark, the air cool, and she shivered.
“Cold?” I asked. “Do you want my jacket?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“We’ll be home in five minutes, if those little legs of yours can pick up the pace.”
She laughed, and we moved a little faster. But she faltered, and I stopped. “What?”
“Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
A strange noise was coming from the shadows. It sounded plaintive and sad.
“That. It sounds like… Oh my God! It is!”
I blinked, unsure what I was looking at. From the dark corner of the building, a little object rushed toward us, almost bleating as it came closer.
“It’s a kitten,” Magnolia exclaimed, bending and making a little clicking noise in her throat. The creature moved faster and, before I could object, launched itself at me, climbing my pants and jacket, right up to my chest, and burrowing into the fabric. It was wet and dirty, and its claws dug into my skin.
“Get it off me, Myers,” I ordered.
“No, it likes you,” she replied, not at all put out by my tone. She reached up, scratching the cat’s furry head. “Where did you come from?”
“Wherever it was, go back,” I demanded.
“Stop it, Bane. Obviously, it’s alone and scared.” She clasped her hands, peering up at me. “And it chose you!”
I attempted to dislodge the cat’s claws, pushing the pizza box into Myers’s hands. But the cat wouldn’t have it, burrowing closer and digging its claws in deeper.
“What do we do now?” I asked, exasperated. “I can’t get it off.”
“We take the kitten home,” she said in a tone that implied I was an idiot for not understanding this course of action.
“No.”
She walked away, muttering. “We’ll need a few things.”
“Magnolia—Myers—stop walking!”
She kept talking and walking. “I’ll make a list. You’ll have to go to the store.”
I hurried to catch up to her, for some reason holding the kitten in place. “We are not keeping this thing.”
She looked at me, surprised. “No, we’re not.”
I felt relief that she understood. “Great.”
“You are,” she said with a smirk. “The kitten picked you.”
And she turned and walked away.
After a moment, I followed.
In the condo, Magnolia faced me, holding out her hands. “Give him to me.”
“It’s a him?”
She shrugged. “Fifty-fifty chance. I’ll find out soon.”
I looked down. “He’s sleeping.” Then I grimaced. “He’s filthy.”
“Probably covered in fleas too.”
“Get him off me.”
She chuckled and held up a finger. “Wait.”
She disappeared for a few moments, and I looked at the kitten. I couldn’t even tell what color it was. The fur was matted and stuck up all over its body in little spikes. He was thin, and when his eyes opened, they were a dull green. Unsure what to do, I used my index finger and tapped his head. “Hi.”
The noise it made was strange. It sounded like a tiny squeak, followed by a motor running.
Was he sick? Broken?
The kitten shut its eyes and kept making the odd noise with a little bleat breaking up the constant hum.
Magnolia appeared, a piece of paper in one hand, a towel in the other.
“It’s making a funny noise,” I informed her. “I think it’s sick.”
She leaned in and grinned. “He’s purring. He’s happy.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows he’s safe.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but she interrupted me.
“You have a choice,” she informed me. “Bathe him or go to the store.”
“How about we put him back outside?”
“Not even funny, Bane.”
I plucked the list from her hand. “Fine, Myers. But he’s out of here when the shelter opens up in the morning.”
“We’ll see.” She managed to remove his claws from my shirt, and she bundled him in the towel. “There is a pet store one block over. I called, and they’re open. They’re waiting for you. Hurry.”
I looked at the list in my hand. “Seriously? For one night?”
She rolled her eyes. “Accept it, Bane.” Then she grinned. “It’s me and the kitten—or the socialite and the five-hundred-dollar dinners.”
I waved the list. “You owe me.”
She grinned. “Hurry. He needs food.”
And for some reason, I did exactly as she told me.
I had no idea I lived that close to a pet store. Or that kittens needed so much stuff. The owners helped me out, and when I couldn’t answer the questions, I called Myers and she talked to them. As I was waiting, I spied a fuzzy little tepee-looking structure.
“What is that?” I asked.
“For the cat to sleep in. Unless, of course, you have one?”
“No.”
“We don’t recommend they sleep on a bed. Too high for them. And they like the comfort of being closed in. It makes them feel safe.”
Thinking how cold the kitten had felt when I first touched it, I plucked the tent off the shelf and added it to the pile.
Besides, there was only one pussy sleeping in my bed tonight, and it wasn’t the little ruffian who had claimed me as his own.
I walked into the condo, hearing Myers cooing and talking softly.
“Who is such a handsome boy? So cute! Look at that fur!”
I walked into the kitchen, finding her holding the kitten. She met my eyes. “Congratulations, Daddy! It’s a boy!”
I snorted. “Not his daddy. And he isn’t staying.” Then I dumped the bags on the counter. “All this goes with him tomorrow.”
She ignored me, pushing the kitten at me. Having no choice, I took him. Even with his fur damp, I could see the ginger color beginning to show. He snuggled into my chest again, making that purring sound. Absently, I stroked his head, mimicking the actions I had seen Myers make. I watched her mix up some mushy stuff and add a bit of horrendous-smelling food from a can into it.
“I think he is about seven, maybe eight weeks old,” she muttered, taking him from my hand and setting him in front of the food. “Oh, he is so hungry!” she exclaimed then laughed as he began to eat, supposedly so famished that he set his front paws in the dish, making growly noises as he devoured the wet mess in front of him.
“So much for the bath,” I observed, my lips pulling into a grin without my realizing it.
“I can clean his paws.” She dug through the bag and got out some other items, then clapped her hands in delight over the little bed. “He’ll love it!” She met my eyes. “What will we name him?”
I rolled my eyes. “How about Goodbye? Because that is where he’s going tomorrow. I’m going to change my shirt.” I left the kitchen, shaking my head.
As if I was going to keep a cat. I had never had a pet my entire life. I had no idea how to care for one or what to do with it.
Now, I simply had to convince Myers of that fact.