Chapter Eighteen
Zoey
T he insistent buzzing of my cell drags me rudely into wakefulness. I grab it from the coffee table and burrow down beneath the throw. “Hello?”
“Babe, it’s me.”
It takes me an embarrassingly long time to place the voice. “Who?” I sit up slowly and push my hair from my face. “Bronn?”
“We should catch up.”
“After how many years?” I couldn’t sleep last night and ended up baking until four a.m. So I’m not in the mood.
For a moment he doesn’t answer, and then he says, “Is the flame still burning for old Bronn?”
Good God, talk about inexplicable choices. “No flame,” I say to him. “Just tired, and you’re the last person I expected to hear from. And I don’t have time to—”
“We’ll cut to the chase. I hear Sinclair’s sniffing around and you haven’t sold. I want to make an offer…”
Where Bronn made me annoyed, Magnus makes me melt. I know I should have pushed to see if my college ex had any dirt on Edward Sinclair, but what am I going to do with it? Pot plants?
Even if these high-powered bullies all play nasty games, and play them sloppily, that’s not me.
I don’t have a chance down in the muck, even if I wanted to, and the muck isn’t okay. Sinking to other people’s low bars is wrong. And…I’m not playing games.
Besides, a guy like Bronn isn’t going to give me anything. That’s not out of intelligence, although I know he isn’t stupid. It’s out of his greed and his self-satisfaction with being born into the right family. I imagine Edward Sinclair is exactly the same. They just both want.
They’re shallow, egotistical assholes. They think about their ambitions, making money, power, and Magnus… He gave up his career—or put it on hold—for his gran. He lost his job because to take the promotion, to work in the arena he’s trained in, he knew he wouldn’t have the room to do what he considers right.
He’s layered and complex and a man who, I think, can see past the almighty dollar.
Because why else would he be here? In my store?
The ease, yes, the freedom, definitely, but there are other jobs to make him money. He chose having the time to flex so he could spend it with his gran, to keep an eye on her. That’s depth.
And me? I’m exactly where I was, still trying to keep my home and business from falling into callous, moneyed hands.
The bell dings and the man who makes me melt walks in. There’s no one else here as I’ve just opened, but his smile when his eyes meet mine makes my heart sing all kinds of songs that it shouldn’t.
After Bronn’s call, it hit me that I haven’t had a visit from anyone to do with Sinclair since the whole power outage and the street work. I’d love to say they must have changed their minds, but I know they haven’t. Life doesn’t work that way and I’m waiting.
“You look both tired and preoccupied.”
I shake my head. “That’s no way to talk to women.” I duck behind the counter and give him a cookie I know he’s not going to eat. It’s cranberry, white chocolate, and dark sugared pecans today. Then I set about making coffee.
“Beautiful is a given.”
I slide him a look, even as warmth spreads through me. It might be a terrible line said as a joke but I’ll take it. “Don’t push it.”
He comes up and leans over the counter as I set his espresso down. Magnus shifts it out of the way and takes my hands, his onyx eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiles. “You are, you know. Beautiful. Inside and out.”
He sucks in a breath and straightens, letting me go and fussing with his caffeine fix. His words make me reel and I stir in sugar after sugar into mine.
“I’m okay. Just couldn’t sleep and then…” I sigh. “My ex called this morning.”
Magnus goes still. “Oh?”
“Yeah. I guess he heard I hadn’t sold and wanted to make me an offer. I’m guessing so he could then use his money to get more from Sinclair.”
“Or a piece of the project,” he mutters. He casts me a long look. “Did you take it up?”
“Have you met me?” I take a sip of my coffee and almost choke. It’s caffeinated sugar with a little milk. I set it down.
Magnus takes my hand before I can move away. “I think I do. You’re not going to sell to him, or to Sinclair, no matter what.”
I just smile and shake my head. “I’m that obvious?”
“I think you’re that principled.”
Words bubble up, and his hand is warm and solid and reassuring on mine and I want to tell him how lovely he is, but I’m saved from making a fool of myself by the bell.
Mikey comes in and his eyes dart between me and Magnus and his hand on mine. I go to pull away but Magnus’s fingers tighten a little and then he lets me go.
“Is he bugging you, Mama S?”
Magnus’s gaze hits mine, full of heat and humor and something much darker, like a proprietary spark that sends a deep thrill tumbling in my blood. “Am I, Mama S?”
There’s something in his tone that’s made of steel, that’s like a sliver of danger and that thrill dissipates. Mikey, for all his bluster, is insecure, and he’s the exact right age where being made fun of, mocked by a man like Magnus, might cause wounds.
“No one’s bothering me, Mikey,” I say.
“There you go.” Magnus straightens up, and turns his cup on the counter. “You’re a good man, Mikey.”
Mikey’s eyes narrow and his body tenses like he’s waiting for the blow. “I like her. She’s good people.”
“I know.” Magnus leans into the kid a little. “And she’s na?ve as all hell. She needs someone savvy to keep his eye out. Glad to know you’re on the job.”
Mikey searches his face a long time like he’s looking for the hidden meanings, but then he relaxes, nods, puffs up a bit, and straightens his cap.
“Always,” the kid says.
And I relax, too. Magnus excuses himself, grabs the duster and goes to the books, straightening them, dusting as he goes and Mikey shakes his head.
I fill up a bag with cookies and a couple of slices of cake. I made a nut and seed cake today. It’s healthy, but tastes good. Perfect for Mikey. I hand them to him with a couple of books I set aside I think he’ll like.
“Your boyfriend—”
“He works here.”
Mikey rolls his eyes. “He’s not bad people, Mama S. Catch ya on the flip side.”
He leaves and I pick up the crumpled fiver the kid left on the counter and put it in the register, marking a little card I keep for Mikey under the register drawer.
My hand shakes as awareness burns into me and I look up into Magnus’s gaze. His mouth twists, then he says, “I’ll be back in a few.”
I can’t help it. I follow him to the door and watch as he darts across the traffic to catch Mikey.
Magnus does most of the talking, but Mikey finally nods, and they pull out their phones, like they’re swapping numbers. The moment Magnus turns, I hurry back to the counter and start sorting the piles of things I need to do tonight. Like bookkeeping. The bell dings and he just smiles at me as he approaches.
“Not going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Why I chased after Mikey?”
I shrug and he leans over the counter, brushing against my hand and making me shiver as he grabs the card and holds it up. I snatch it away and slide it back.
“You have an account for him, don’t you?”
Heat floods my skin. “It’s not much. Just when he gives me money, I record it and put away for him. That’s all.”
“You’re like a saint without all the annoying parts.”
“Are saints annoying?” I pick up the books and paperwork and hug them.
“I’m pretty sure sanctimonious counts as annoying.”
“Why did you go after him?”
He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Not to be sanctimonious. I just figured I could help him out.”
Magnus glances away a moment.
“It’s just some after school stuff, to do with the charity we went to. And I know how you feel about Sinclair, but…”
I come around the counter and give him a one-armed hug, breathing in his whiskey, dark citrusy scent, letting myself indulge in the heat of him for a moment. “That’s sweet.”
“I’m not sweet.”
I draw back. “You are, you know. Magnus-style sweet. And…I think you’re ready.”
“Don’t look at me like I’m a baby bird.”
“I’m not throwing you from a nest. I’m just going to duck into the back for a big part of the day, leave you to it. I have bookkeeping and other boring mundane things to do.”
Magnus doesn’t move and while I’m not expecting fireworks and leaps for joy, I don’t expect this. I don’t expect the stillness and the strange look on his face, but then he smiles. “Okay. I promise I won’t burn the place down.”
And with that, I go to tackle all the things I don’t want to, things I normally do in the evening. And for once, a touch of lightness comes over me. Maybe things are going my way.
Things going my way might be a little bit of a stretch, I decide hours later, but I’ll take the tiny nuggets.
I worked through lunch, just grabbing a cookie and a coffee. And I’m not checking up on him, but he’s with a customer, someone well-heeled, probably in from a few blocks over where the gentrification has set in. But she has books in her arms and Magnus is leading her towards the art books.
Smiling, I dive back into my little area and I smile deeper as the ding of the register sounds.
The day wears on and the normal sales happen and I let Magnus handle things because there are issues I have to deal with. Bills, and all the things that come with a business. There’s an estate sale coming up and the area at the foot of the Catskills is full of little stores and pop up garage sales this time of year, and I want to go because I can usually find books. We do get people coming in with bags of books to sell to us, but these things always hold gems. And it’s a nice way of collecting all sorts of books I might not normally be able to.
But getting all the grindstone work out of the way frees me up for such day trips.
Later in the afternoon, I join Magnus and the day passes into evening in a harmonious companionship.
One that’s layered by an unspoken awareness and tension that drips with sexual innuendo.
Magnus finally flips the sign at the end of the day and sighs, leaning against the door. “Want me to close the register?”
“If you’re ready.”
He raises a brow. “I think I can handle it.”
When that’s done he’s ready to leave, lingering and I’m doing the same. He approaches me slowly, and brushes a curl from my face, his fingers warm and gentle and a lick of flame rises in my belly.
“We’re done for the day,” he says.
“Yes.”
“So since we’re off the clock and you’re not in boss mode, I can finally do what’s been on my mind all day long.”
Before I can even ask, he lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me soft and sweet, and the flame flares bright in me as I cling to him, kissing him back, letting the heat and magic melt into my bones.
He’s like tinder to that flame in me. Tinder spiked with fuel. And the kiss morphs from sweet to erotic in seconds and a fierce hunger sweeps me. His arms are around me and he walks me back until I hit the counter. Then he lifts me like I don’t weigh anything, and puts me there, on the top, and we’re face to face.
The kisses come in slow and biting as he parts my jean-clad thighs and steps between them, moving against me, letting me feel the heat and steel of his erection and I moan into him, wrapping my arms about his neck, fingers thrust into his thick, soft hair as I tug his face to me and he takes my mouth deep.
Magnus moves a trail of fire over my chin and down my throat, his teeth nipping against my pulse point and he slides a hand up against my pussy, rubbing me slowly or am I rubbing against him. All that material is in the way and I want…I need…
Shit.
I break the kiss, gasping for air. “Magnus, the lights are on and the whole store front is glass.”
“So?”
“I’m not into giving a show. And we—”
“Yeah, I know. Take it slow.” He straightens and kisses the tip of my nose, his hands coming to rest on my thighs as he breathes in slow and steady. “Lucky for you, my phone started to buzz. I need to go.” He pulls it out and the name Gran is on the screen. He shakes his head and sets it on the counter. “In a minute. I don’t think anyone needs to see me like this.”
I put my hands on either side of his face and bring it to mine. “You’re a good man, Magnus Simpson.”
The next morning, I’m alone in the store. I’m buzzing a little from last night. The sweetness of him before he left me, that underlying layer that draws me down into him.
And I’m glad I’m alone to breathe and think. There’s an aura about Magnus that is overwhelming. To me.
He makes me want to lose myself.
So when he texted to say he’d be in at lunch, I was happy. Well, happy isn’t exactly the right word. He said it wasn’t anything to worry about, just he needed to make some last-minute appointments.
The doorbell dings and I turn. Magnus’s gran, Amanda, shuffles in, seemingly frailer than she was last time I saw her.
I hurry to help her. “Magnus isn’t here.”
“Oh. That boy…He’s probably doing what I asked him not to. Meeting my doctors.”
“Are you okay?”
She pats my hand. “It’s just a small operation, dear. Nothing to worry about.”
And then to my horror, her face crumples.
“That, I can put off. You can’t tell him about this. Promise.”
“Whatever it is, tell him.”
“No. He’s given up so much. I…can’t.”
My stomach knots. “Amanda, what happened?”
“It’s that beast who bought my building. He’s putting up all the prices. If I can’t pay, and pay the back rent, I’m out. And I’ve nowhere to go.”