Chapter 11
eleven
Cooking with Dalton’s mother has been the highlight of my week. Hell, probably my entire year. She may not be my mother, but I’ve always been desperate for the kind of affection she’s shown me, and she barely knows me.
I promise myself that if I ever have children, I will be a mother like Dalton’s.
The kind of woman who loves her children above all else, and treats the people they love as her own.
I’ve never felt as welcome as I do tonight, sitting at this dining table, listening to Dalton’s family rag on him for all the dumb shit he did when he was younger.
After dinner was finished, his mom brought out a homemade birthday cake and we all sang happy birthday.
My heart sank a little at the realization that I have never before experienced someone singing me happy birthday. How pathetic is that?
“You remember when he brought home that turtle, mom? And he tried to hide it under the bed?” Saoirse says, laughing so hard she has tears rolling down her face. Dalton looks completely unashamed, which makes it so much better.
“Oh, how could I forget? His room smelled like a dead animal, and he was sneaking vegetables from my cutting board for over a week!” His mother rolls her eyes. I can only imagine the trials she was put through in raising two spirited kids.
“Did you at least let him keep the turtle?” I ask, my cheeks aching from smiling so much tonight.
“No, she didn’t. Can you believe that?! All the work I did to hide Raphael, and I didn’t even get to keep him,” Dalton says, grabbing my hand where it’s resting on the table and stroking the back with his thumb.
I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it.
He keeps talking casually with his family, laughing and joking about all of his crazy antics as a kid.
I’m so focused on his hand on mine, I don’t see anything else.
“I’m sorry, Raphael?” I ask, amused by his choice of name.
“Yes, angel. Raphael. He was the red Ninja Turtle, my favorite.” Dalton replies, and I burst out laughing. My laughter brings a beaming smile to his face and I wish I could stop time just to see that sight forever.
“Do you two have any other plans tonight?” His mother asks, snapping me out of my daze. She gives me a knowing smile and I blush, knowing I’ve been caught daydreaming about her son.
“Well, it’s up to this one, I suppose. The guys asked if we were gonna go to Pop’s tonight. Even on my night off, I can’t escape that place,” he says with a laugh.
“It’s your birthday. I’m just along for the ride,” I say with a shrug. I’d follow this man into the fire if he only asked.
“I guess we’re headed to Pop’s then,” he replies, firing off a text to our friends and standing. “Thank you so much for dinner, mom. And the cake. I love you.”
He pulls her in for a tight hug and kisses her head.
She squeezes him back just as tightly, and I envy their connection.
I don’t remember a single time when my mother has actually hugged me.
Fiona moves on to me, giving me a warm smile before hugging me just as tightly.
I let it linger as long as she’ll allow, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes.
I never thought I was so starved for maternal affection until this moment.
“It was so lovely to meet you, dear. You’re welcome here, anytime,” she tells me, and I nearly break. When I finally release her, a watery smile spread across my face, she gives me a wink.
When we’re safely inside the privacy of my car again, I let the tears fall silently.
“You are so incredibly lucky, Dalton,” I tell him, staring blankly ahead.
“I know, angel.” There’s nothing else to be said, so he puts the car in drive and takes us back to Grovewood.
When we walk into Pop’s, it’s packed wall to wall. I can see Dalton’s face tense, and I know he’s worried about taking the night off. His transition from bar manager to bar owner seems to be going really well, but I can tell he wants to put out every fire on his own.
“Maggie!” Kelsea’s voice calls out from a table close to the bar, and I wave back.
Dalton and I weave our way through the crowd, hands locked together so we don’t lose each other.
Once we reach the table, he releases my hand, and I try not to read too much into it.
He’s not intentionally avoiding holding my hand in front of our friends.
Right? Refusing to dwell on it, I hug my friends, excited for a night of normalcy in the midst of the crazy shit going on in my life.
“Hey, babe! You look incredible! God, I love this dress!” Kelsea says, commenting on my outfit.
When I got dressed earlier, for the first time in my life, I didn’t think about what my mother would want me to wear or what someone else would want to see.
I put on exactly what I wanted to, and I’ve never been more comfortable.
“I’m calling it Magnolia 2.0,” I laugh and Ember gives me an encouraging nod from across the table.
“Well, you look hot as fuck, so I’m here for it,” Rory says. The guys exchange back slapping hugs the way men do, telling Dalton happy birthday as they do.
“I’m gonna go grab a drink real quick,” he shouts above all the noise. “What do you want, angel?” He brings his face closer to mine, and I tell myself it’s just so he can hear me better.
But his scent, all leather and man, assaults me for the hundredth time tonight, and I have to clench my thighs to dull the ache he causes every time he’s around. He lets out a low growl and I know he sees my movements, no matter how subtle.
Suddenly, I feel emboldened by the effect I have on this man. Leaning in until my lips are almost brushing his ear, I let out the tiniest breathy moan. Dalton’s fists clench at his sides, and I feel powerful. Adrenaline rushes through my body, making every sensitive part of me throb.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having, baby,” I whisper to him, and he physically shivers, his eyes darkening like a stormy sea.
I know I’m playing with fire, tempting the fates in all the best ways.
But I’m tired of standing in limbo, one foot in a fake relationship, while we both obviously want more.
I’ve already given him my body, but I want him to take it all. Every single piece of me.
Instead of snapping and fucking me right here across this table for the whole town to see, he simply nods, turning on his heel and heading for the bar.
The man has far more self control than I do, because I’d drop to my knees right now if he asked me to.
I watch him leave, tracking his every move as he talks comfortably with the staff.
“Careful, honey. You’re gonna drool on your dress,” Kelsea says, and I roll my eyes.
I think by now, they all know something is going on with Dalton and I.
But the question is, what is it? Propping my elbows on the table, I drop my head into my hands, my eyes still glued to Dalton’s back where he stands at the bar talking to Megan, one of the bartenders.
Their conversation looks friendly enough, but I can’t help the pinpricks of jealousy that rise in the back of my mind.
How dare any other woman ever make him smile or laugh?
I’ve never considered myself a jealous or possessive person.
But then again, I’ve never had anything worth holding onto that tightly.
Now, I see another woman even looking at him and I want to cut her eyes out.
Is this what it feels like to have someone you can’t imagine living without?
I’ve always felt like my emotions were too severe, too much or too heavy for anyone to understand.
But with Dalton, he makes me feel like I’m free to say and think whatever I want to, honest and unashamed.
It’s my favorite part of being with him.
I can be myself, my true self, and I still feel completely safe.
“Heads up, Mags. Looks like you’re not the only one with eyes for our boy,” Everett says, pointing at a bleach blonde with fake tits at the end of the bar who is currently looking at Dalton like she wants to eat him for dinner.
Heat creeps up my spine as anger boils under my skin.
He and I haven’t had a chance to solidly define the terms of this relationship yet, but I already know I’m not okay with anyone else looking at him like that bitch is.
We all watch as she stands, sliding down the bar until she’s right next to him.
Her fake, forced laugh echoes through the room as she interjects herself into his conversation with Megan, who quickly excuses herself to help other customers.
Dalton is polite, waiting for Megan to mix our drinks but still keeping himself at a distance from the woman.
Elijah, Everett, and Breaker all share a surprised look that leads me to believe he doesn’t brush women off very often.
As if I didn’t already know that. Dalton is no saint, but I know him now, the man behind the mask.
Megan puts the drinks down in front of him and he hands her his card, dismissing the woman at his side again.
But apparently, this bitch must be stupid.
Because instead of taking the obvious hint that he’s not interested, she moves even closer to him, her manicured hand wrapping around his forearm.
I don’t think, don’t even have time to rationalize what’s going through my mind before I’m pushing through the crowd towards them.
“Oh, fuck,” I hear someone say behind me, but I’m on a mission. No one touches what is mine . If he wants to be a possessive alpha-hole, then so can I. Stopping in front of them, I draw both of their attention to the murderous look on my face.
“Angel, I-” he starts, but I reach between them, picking up my drink and downing it all at once.
The burn of alcohol gives me the extra nudge I need to push the barbie bitch off my man as I step between them, barely giving her a second glance before I thread my fingers through his hair and pull his lips to mine.
This kiss is rough, messy, claiming, but no less passionate than any other.
He responds immediately, pulling my body against his and fisting the skirt of my dress in one hand.
He moans into my mouth and I swallow it down, my tongue lashing against his in a desperate fight for control.
Any other time, I would concede, letting him take this wherever he wants to.
But not this time. This is my public claiming of him, and I won’t back down.
Every kiss with him steals the breath from my lungs, but this one is so much more.
It feels like the final wall standing between us has been obliterated until all that’s left is him and I standing in the rubble.
One firm hand flattens against my lower back, pulling my body flush against his until I can feel every rock hard ridge of him against my skin.
Our kiss slows, and I blink, barely pulling back from his lips.
The woman is gone, and when I look over at the table of our friends, they’re all staring back at us, eyes wide and jaws slack.
Rory smacks her husband in the chest, saying something to him that looks a lot like ‘pay up’, and I laugh.
“Mo ghrá fíor,” he whispers before kissing me softly one more time. I don’t even have time to wonder what that means before his lips glide across mine again. “You kiss me like that and then expect me to keep my hands to myself? Impossible.”
“I never told you to keep your hands to yourself,” I joke, but he slides both palms over the curves of my ass, squeezing the muscles as he bucks his hips into me. His cock is already rock hard between us, and I can feel every inch of hard steel and harder flesh, even through his jeans.
I step out of his grasp, picking up the fresh drink Megan set on the counter and walking back to our table.
He follows behind me like a man possessed, under my spell but oh so willing.
When we reach the table, Everett starts to slow clap, but Kelsea elbows him in the gut, drawing a laugh from Ember and Elijah.
“Well, okay then,” Rory says, a mischievous smirk painted across her lips as she leans back on her stool into Breaker’s chest.
I sit down on my own stool across from her, the heat from Dalton’s body radiating across my back. One strong arm wraps around my waist as he stands with his chest flush against my back. His lips graze the shell of my ear as he tightens his hold around me, whispering so only I can hear.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, Magnolia.
” His fingers creep down my thigh as he toys with the hem of my dress.
Goosebumps spread down my legs, and my core aches from just one touch.
“I’m glad you walked away before I bent you over that bar and fucked you till you screamed my name.
Then nobody would have to wonder who belongs to who, baby.
Or maybe I should take you upstairs right now and finish what you started.
You’d be such a good girl and come back downstairs, sitting here in front of all our friends with this sweet pussy full of my cum.
” His fingers graze across the tops of my thighs, his fingertips skating closer and closer to my core.
I’m grateful no one can see under this table right now.
“Is that what you want, angel? You want my cum to drip down your legs as you talk to the girls like nothing is happening? Like it’s just our dirty little secret? ”
He nips at my earlobe, and I moan a little louder than I intend to.
Ember’s eyes find mine and I know I’m flush and panting.
If I wasn’t embarrassed before, I should be now.
Only, I’m not. I love every filthy thing Dalton is whispering to me right now.
So instead of stopping him, I turn slightly, reaching back to dig my nails into his thigh.
He hisses in my ear, and I smirk. I wait until he slides his hand out from under my dress, picking up his drink and taking a big sip, before I pull him down to my level with one hand on his shoulder.
“You think you have the power here, baby? Remember that later when you’re barely holding on while I’m choking on your cock, punishing you for being such a dirty little tease right now,” I say, and he spits his drink all over the table.
The looks we get from our friends are a mixture of curiosity and confusion, but my triumphant smile overshadows them all.