22. Magnolia Steel
Chapter 22
Magnolia Steel
It’s been a week since JC and I had dinner at Jack and Laurelyn’s house, and I was surprised when she reached out to invite me on a girls’ day. We’ve only just met, and while she’s been warm and welcoming, I didn’t expect to hear from her. When her message popped up, asking if I wanted to go shopping, I found myself saying yes without hesitation.
I pictured high-end boutiques and exclusive storefronts, the kind of places that fit her polished life. Instead, we’re at a lively shopping center, the kind of place where real people—people like me—come to shop. It’s not what I imagined, but it’s perfect.
Not that I’m struggling—I’m doing fine for myself. But growing up with barely enough to get by has left its mark. I’m careful with money, always thinking ahead, always weighing what’s necessary versus what’s frivolous. Splurges are rare, reserved for something truly special… or something I can’t stop thinking about.
My attention keeps straying—unwillingly, irresistibly—to a particular lingerie set in the store we’ve wandered into. Deep emerald with delicate lace, it’s unlike anything I’d normally buy. But it’s got my attention in a way that’s both surprising and hard to ignore.
Laurelyn’s eyes sparkle as she plucks a lacy black piece from the rack, holding it up with a mischievous grin. “Now this would send Jack Henry straight over the edge if I showed up wearing it tonight.”
I laugh, nodding. “It’s hot. You should absolutely get it.”
She drapes it over her arm, her smile turning satisfied. “I think I will. It’s perfect for my next dance.”
“Next dance?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued.
Her eyes twinkle with playful confidence. “I pole dance—only for Jack Henry, of course. It keeps things fun.” She says it casually as though she’s talking about what she had for breakfast. The way she owns it, completely unapologetic, is both surprising and admirable.
She moves on, sifting through delicate lace and silk, humming softly as if this is simply another ordinary errand. Her ease is magnetic.
Singing, dancing, raising four kids, and still looking like a million bucks—seriously, is there anything this woman can’t do?
We comb through the racks, the soft rustle of fabric filling the air as curiosity gets the better of me. “So, what’s it like being married for—” I pause, realizing I don’t remember the number.
“Ten years,” she supplies with an easy smile. “And it’s… well, it’s imperfect. But it’s also magical in its own way. It’s the kind of bond that’s hard to describe unless you’re living it—filled with moments of absolute joy and others that test every ounce of patience and love you have. It’s not always a fairy tale, but the magic is in the realness, in knowing someone has your back, flaws and all. There’s beauty in the mess, in building a life together piece by piece.”
I let her words sink in, feeling the depth behind them.
“And your career? You were the lead singer for one of the biggest country bands in existence. Do you ever regret giving that up?”
“Not for a second.” Her expression softens, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Jack Henry will always be my first choice. I love him, and I love the life we’ve built together. My family means everything to me. Nothing—no stage or spotlight—could ever compare to what I have at home.”
A pang of admiration settles in my chest. “I can see it. The way you two look at each other—you can feel the love between you. But how did you know?”
“That Jack Henry was the one?” She glances at me briefly, her smile deepening with fondness, before her eyes drop to the piece of lingerie in her hand,. “I just knew. With him, it felt like coming home. Like every part of me was understood and accepted, no questions, no conditions. He saw the real me—flaws, quirks, everything—and loved me anyway. It’s the kind of love that makes you know you can face anything together.”
Her words settle over me, stirring something deep and quiet. And her description leaves a soft imprint in my thoughts. “That makes sense.”
Laurelyn’s eyes light up as she pulls a striking red lingerie set from the rack—a delicate lace bralette with matching, barely-there bottoms edged in soft satin. She holds it up, giving me a knowing grin. “This would look incredible on you.”
I glance at it, the vibrant red lace practically daring me to step out of my comfort zone. “Honestly, I didn’t even pack lingerie. I mean, why would I? I didn’t come to Australia expecting to—” I pause, realizing there’s no graceful way to finish that sentence.
“To get laid ?” Laurelyn fills in, her smile playful. “Julius Caesar would lose his mind if he saw you in this. You should get it. It would make his night—and yours.”
I hesitate, the lace dangling from her hand as if it’s challenging me. It’s not something I’d normally choose, but there’s something about it—bold, daring, the kind of thing Magnolia Steel wouldn’t give a second look.
But Charleston?
Laurelyn raises a brow, her expression full of encouragement. “Do it.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab the set, draping it over my arm with a grin that surprises even me. “Why not?”
We wander through the aisles, conversation flowing as easily as the shopping. Laurelyn glances over, her expression curious. “How are you feeling about everything?”
I smile, the thought of JC warming me from the inside out. “He’s amazing. Patient, selfless, and genuinely giving. He’s special. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s hotter than a two-dollar pistol.”
Laurelyn laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You spend a lot of time together, don’t you?”
“We’re together every night and entire weekends. He’s practically moved into the penthouse with me. My coworkers probably think I’m holed up in my room depressed and moping.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “If they only knew. I’m having the time of my life. And the sex? Incredible. Best I’ve ever had.” My cheeks heat slightly as I realize how easily the words slip out. “But you probably don’t want to hear about that, considering how close you are to him.”
Laurelyn waves a dismissive hand, her laugh light and easy. “Doesn’t bother me one bit. Say whatever you like about your relationship.”
Her easy acceptance softens something inside me, and I grin. “Thanks, Laurelyn. Honestly, it means a lot. I don’t really have anyone I can talk to about him. It’s not like I can bring it up with my coworkers.”
Laurelyn studies me thoughtfully before nodding. “You know, you and Julius Caesar seem like a really good fit.”
Warmth blooms inside me. “I’ve never felt this compatible with anyone before. It’s surprising, honestly, considering how different our backgrounds are.”
“I think you’d feel even closer if you knew more about him and could see the parts of his life he hasn’t shown you yet.”
The thought takes root. “Sometimes, I long to know more. Not because I need to pry, but because I yearn to understand him better. I want to see the pieces of him kept out of reach.”
Laurelyn reaches out, her hand resting gently on my arm. “Maybe it’s time to think about being honest with each other. The aliases were a fun way to start—safe, playful, and exactly what you needed then. But you’ve built something stronger now, something real. You’ve outgrown the game, as Jack Henry and I did.”
You’ve outgrown the game. The words settle deep inside me, stirring a quiet ache of uncertainty.
Am I ready for what comes next?
“JC knows me more than any man ever has. The real me.” Well, almost the real me. The exception, of course, being my name—and the truth about my father.
“So, you’ve been comfortable revealing your true self to him?”
“I am. It’s strange, but with him, it feels easy. Natural.”
“And you’re not opposed to learning who Julius Caesar is?”
“Not at all.” No hesitation. “But it has to be his decision. If he wants me to know, I’ll be ready. If he doesn’t, that’s his choice to make.”
“You should tell him that. Don’t wait. It’d be a shame to spend the rest of your time with anyone other than the real man he is.”
Her words settle over me, a quiet but firm nudge toward honesty. “How were you able to leave Jack when your three months were up?”
Her expression softens. “I was stubborn and scared. I’d built so many walls that I couldn’t let myself be vulnerable enough to tell him how I felt. So, I slipped away without a goodbye, telling myself it was easier than risking the pain of hearing him say he didn’t feel the same.”
Her gaze drifts, a soft smile playing on her lips as though she’s caught in a distant memory. “What I didn’t know was that Jack Henry was already coming for me. He was ready to tell me everything—how he felt, what he wanted. But I’d already run off, and we missed each other by a few hours.”
Her words resonate like an unspoken warning. “Being apart from the person you love is a kind of misery you can’t prepare for. It hollows you out in ways you don’t expect. I lost so much time with him—time we could’ve spent building the life we have now.”
Her words carry a hint of urgency. “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let fear or pride keep you from being honest. If you care about him—and I know you do—then tell him. Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. And don’t let something as fragile as doubt rob you of something real.”
Her lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “Trust me, Julius Caesar cares deeply for you.”
He cares deeply for you. Those words hit me with a quiet intensity, sparking a flutter in my chest.
Laurelyn picks up a delicate white lingerie set, all lace and silk accents, holding it up with a playful grin. “Imagine this with stockings and heels, the whole shebang. Trust me, he won’t stand a chance.”
I run my fingers over the soft fabric. “I’m afraid.”
Laurelyn rests a hand on my arm with a quiet assurance that only someone who’s walked this path can offer. “I’ve been there. And I’m telling you from a place of knowing … don’t let fear drive your choices. Regret is worse than any risk you’ll ever take. It’s better to regret the things you’ve done than regret the things you haven’t.”
Her words sink in, stirring something deep within me, a fragile place I’ve tried to keep untouched. “And if it all falls apart?”
She smiles, soft but sure. “Sometimes things fall apart so that better things can come together.”
Laurelyn’s words settle into something resembling courage. Three months—that’s all I signed up for, all I let myself hope for.
But now, I realize, I want so much more.